Alice and the cards;

Mets ta ceinture Alice et bon voyage au pays des merveilles.

Recently everything has tumbled out in words and glances to the people around me.

Past the examinations, there is plenty of sleep and lounging, a flu and being too sleepy to tell, a new fondness for C.K Williams and a callback to those tunes that marked my primary school-hood, and a strange vague sensation that another part of my life is starting.

In my life, there are always sudden various occurrences which suddenly sweep me off my feet when I wasn’t looking, which is perhaps what Alice’s Grow Large and Grow Small potions me. One moment you feel fifteen feet tall, and the next dimunitive as a mouse. It is dutch courage, wondering if I go ahead and do the things I am wanting to, whether the secret feeling tells me it is wrong or right, besides just the need to run whenever the Rabbit appears.

At some point, I will have to stop running, but it is just not time yet.

I am going back to the office on Monday. Trepidation! Cases stacked on my table in blue-red files, chaomomile tea to soothe the nerves, running back and forth trying to understand voices… I am not the best working girl. I wish my mind was more in the world, but after the spate of examinations where you focus so much on the heart of cases, my mind is some other-where in Equalia.

I heard Best Friend Irving’s voice again last night which was soft and warm. I was sick and vaguely there then not, but he still manages to bring back those images of checked shirts and Elizabeth having six mothers. I sometimes wish God in my life was not so complicated and stunningly simple. I met someone recently where it was that easy for him, and remembered the time when it was that easy for me too. One part of me wants to be part of that world again, the other part makes me suspect whether I am any of that, like a dual Hyde-Jekyll heading towards another end. But it is not good to have one’s faith premised on childhood, for cradle faith will only last me like a first love, and every person needs something stronger and enduring. In the middle of a hymn my heart is quiet,  but I am not sure which of the voices it made thus so. I am beginning to think about things again.

I hear many stories about the law faculty recently, and strange/weird conceptions about love and careers, and the fanatical obsession of some towards success, sense the pride of these local students in their school and area of law, and how it consumes their mind and life. Things are very different from back when I was in university, for though desiring for the Magic Circle/worklife, people had convictions and attitudes in a manner I sometimes can’t pinpoint to. I feel relegated to the group of people who similarly can think but cannot write naturally and practically about important things. It made me remember SK and our walks and how he was convicted to make something different out of his life, and I admired his courage and audacity. It is human not to feel settled, and we need to ride on dreams.

It is December, and nearing Christmas.

There are Christmas carols playing in the streets again, and last night I took a walk to see the lights. Admitably disappointing, for there is only purple! My friend laughed at me as I expect a sort of aurora. Should I try making mulled wine? Should I send turkey to the best friend? Does he not like natural Christmas trees anymore?

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