I want to be a bird.
To fly freely in the sky, to make the world my home. I will fly from one end of the world to the other, across vast oceans, across great fields, across timelines; to feel the wind in my wings, the absoluteness of freedom.
Then I wonder where I will stay. In nests? Heavens, no. What happens when it rains?
What will I feed on? Worms? Goodness gracious, no! I want my pig's trotters and mee goreng! Pratas! Pratas! I need them!
So I don't want to be a bird.
I know! I want to be a fish!
To swim freely in the ocean, to make the sea my home. I will swim from one end of the world to the other, over vast distances, over great fields of sea anemones, across timelines; to feel the water in my fins, the absoluteness of freedom.
Then I wonder where I will stay, again. Heavens, I don't even have a nest!
What will I feed on? Other fishes? Planktons? No, I want my fish fillet and Hainanese chicken rice! Pastas! Pastas! I need them!
So I don't want to be a fish.
What about a squirrel?
To hide my nuts like a possessive nutcase, to make trees my home. I will jump about from trees to trees with nuts in my hands, balancing myself with my soft bushy tail. I can make my own Nutella, and I'll have fur that never goes out of fashion.
Then I wonder what I will do other than hiding nuts and jumping around. Nothing much, really. Do I get to see the world? No. Do I get to see anywhere outside my little community of trees? Probably not. What happens when it rains, or snows?
So I don't want to be a squirrel.
How about a tortoise? I'll take life easy...
To live a long life, to see what has been here and what will be here. To move about at leisurely speeds, laughing at the meaningless business of everyone else. Why bother to rush about doing, and miss the enjoyment of quiet peacefulness? Two hands of leisure rather than one hand of business, I'd say.
Then I wonder the usefulness of such a long life, if life is meant to be all so peaceful and non-undulating....
No, I don't want to be a tortoise. I want more excitement to life.
A dragon? I'm a magestic dragon! I'll breathe fire and destroy towns and places - holding princesses and kingdoms in ransom. Everyone will be in fear and awe of me! I'll fly freer than a bird, and I'll live in a cave with people paying tributes to me.
But then, who will be my friend? Who will dare to be my friend?
I don't want to deal with the occasional smart ass knight who thinks himself good enough to kill me for the princess and some stupid intangible he calls 'Glory'.
No, I don't want to be a dragon.
I guess I'm better off a human as I am -
I can fly further and faster than a bird to Cananda and live in East Hastings, living freer than a lark in my rented apartment with Garry and Eu;
I can swim freer than a fish in Ko Samut with Chee wee, and laze on sentosa beach as well;
I can wakeboard/windsurf/kayak with ZK/stef/lele anytime I want (if the weather permits);
I can buy cans and cans of Nutella and eat them with bread in PGP, with Gurka to tell me stories of exploits in Mt. Vernon camp;
I can spend a quiet sunday afternoon by myself in McDonald's, watching traffic pass me by;
I can sit in a park and watch children play whilst mothers scream, hearing the chirping of the birds and marvelling at how everything opposing fits in picture-perfectly;
and most of all, I have my friends.
Who needs to be a dragon when you already have friends who promise their kingdoms to you in times of need? (Though I'm always wondering why we never did have enough princesses to go around...)