Flip Flop

That's the sound you make when you shift in-between decisions; when your mind trapped in a ping pong game, your attention being the ball and the two alternatives being the players; it's the cold drift that enters through the door when you open it - too comforting to shiver from, yet too cold to stand under for long.

And aren't we all such big fans of indecision?

When was the last time you were indecisive? What was it for? Did you end up with a good conclusion?

The world is a stage, said Shakespeare, and for all plays, a script - one written through the eyes of its creator, channeled through his blood and scratching the resultant exponential into permanence on a piece of paper.

But life is stranger than fiction, an irony in all sense, in that we write our stories, true, but our stories is but a small footnote on the greater script of a collection of all scripts. Look around you, the man whose walking dog scribbles; the woman who's asking for a smaller-sized dress scribbles; the guy who sits in front of his laptop blogging scribbles.

A script made entirely out of footnotes - isn't that queer?

But such circumstance, and it demands a certain amount of empathy from all of us to complete this silly theater we all are entrenched in.

When was the last time you read someone else's footnote? Give it a try sometimes, and maybe you won't find the sound of indecision that much annoying anymore.