A New Era of Babble
While on my usual runs in Bishan park, I was inspired into action after
listening to an essay being read from one of my favourite "Chidi" tiktok video.
When was the last time I wrote without a commercial purpose? I guess it's time
to begin a new series of psychobabbles in the year of the Lord 2026. They say
perfect is the enemy of the good, so I can only pray and hope that these
nonsensical posts will not be read by anyone else except me.
September 4, 2026, 7.30PM.
The haze sure is getting worse. When was the last time it got this bad? 2023. At least according to the AI summary that Google had spat out, no doubt doing its part to contribute to the current crisis. My first response was 'wow, that is just a couple of years ago.' And then it hit me; I made the same mistake that all elder millennials do. My mind was in the wrong decade. It appears everything of note has been at least a decade ago.
Crossing Bishan road, I thought about the number of years of my life I had spent running. I was never an active person when I was in school, but slowly but surely, milestones in life compelled me to become more active. Family badminton, full-time national service, annual IPPT, the accidental gym addiction... It is almost strange that I became more active as I grew older. Almost, because Hyrox appears to be the biggest activity amongst middle-aged men. As I pummelled the pavement with my flat-footed gait, I wonder how much my stamina had deteriorated. I am sure that I am fitter than a significant proportion of the population, but I know I'm grasping at straws as the term "fit for one's age" increasingly fades into relevance.
It is time to wind down my run, with a newfound motivation to restart writing for its own sake (and subject the world to my meandering thoughts). Without AI, might I add. Just like my run, I contend that we never really end our races (or our words). We set endpoints and goals in our lives but even in the best circumstances, achieving them means we need to shift our goal posts and continue our journey. Because there is ultimately only one end goal in life.
September 4, 2026, 7.30PM.
The haze sure is getting worse. When was the last time it got this bad? 2023. At least according to the AI summary that Google had spat out, no doubt doing its part to contribute to the current crisis. My first response was 'wow, that is just a couple of years ago.' And then it hit me; I made the same mistake that all elder millennials do. My mind was in the wrong decade. It appears everything of note has been at least a decade ago.
Crossing Bishan road, I thought about the number of years of my life I had spent running. I was never an active person when I was in school, but slowly but surely, milestones in life compelled me to become more active. Family badminton, full-time national service, annual IPPT, the accidental gym addiction... It is almost strange that I became more active as I grew older. Almost, because Hyrox appears to be the biggest activity amongst middle-aged men. As I pummelled the pavement with my flat-footed gait, I wonder how much my stamina had deteriorated. I am sure that I am fitter than a significant proportion of the population, but I know I'm grasping at straws as the term "fit for one's age" increasingly fades into relevance.
It is time to wind down my run, with a newfound motivation to restart writing for its own sake (and subject the world to my meandering thoughts). Without AI, might I add. Just like my run, I contend that we never really end our races (or our words). We set endpoints and goals in our lives but even in the best circumstances, achieving them means we need to shift our goal posts and continue our journey. Because there is ultimately only one end goal in life.
posted by Kelvin Lim at 5:21 pm
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