So what is going on?

I am giving myself 10 minutes to recount the past few ages, and then I am off to a corner of the couch with a sketchbook and an indelible pen (beyond Confucius and his 'cross-words with a pen'... every sketched line must remain).

The sensation that rises to surface is of course, the heat. Thankfully, there is an angelic air-conditioner overhead and an altruistic little fan spinning its little molded-plastic heart out, which makes living bearable.

Edit: next day...

I missed the cutoff, as more observant readers might have guessed. Although it is somewhat understandable that the local 'maximum' - the highest profile- was the heat...

other things do, however, register... but I get trapped, as usual, in the lung-fluttering wings of indecision: do I write about them, or commence doing them. Lately, I have opted for the latter.

So here, today, again, the same. I started to edit this post with the best of intentions, to make a textual map of the things so waspishly nettling my mind, but I have lost momentum and focus.

More soon? We shall see...