myriad

What do you know? You haven’t lived!

I’ve thought. That’s life enough.

Pinochet dies at 91, given a military funeral instead of a state funeral. Note the distinction. Since he came to power via a military coup, that would be the politically correct thing to do.

Lying there pale and dead in the coffin. How many battles have he won?

How many battles have you won?

How many battles have you fought, even?

It’s a bad example to use Pinochet as the springing board for an end of the year reflection. He’s just not the guy to look to for inspiration or instruction. Yet, it makes you think, does it not? What his life was for? And why the heck did Pol Pot and Pinochet lived such a damn long time?

Well, if you look at it from the Buddhist point of view, where I summarize really briefly, that life is suffering, then it all makes sense.

Oh well.

Zoukout was fun. Lots of sand and wind. They should have a zoukout every week, or every two weeks. To paraphrase Sentosa’s marketing campaign, that’s what island living is about.

Stuck in the office, where you get used to the whirring of the photocopier and the scanner. Peer out of the windows and see the city below. It’s amazing, how many people you can occupy for such a long time in little boxes of air spaces.

Human, all too human.

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