I’ve been right for all the wrong reasons. Disambiguation intended. The sudden realization from an everyday “Oops I made a boopie!” to a much graver “What is the matter with me?” does hit me pretty hard especially when I’m already on the verge of breaking out…again. It might be of the most trivial importance that I forgot to bring back a platter of gravy from office. Yet it strikes chords for my inner repressions which have almost mechanically started to resurface again. My consequential actions have led me to believe that down one road or another, I’m not capable of almost anything. It’s not the drive of this moment that has led me to this conclusion. Quite the contrary actually, of which I must not delineate on. Threading along curiosity has led to nothing but a more suppressive void of questions. Questions which branch out (with their answers) into more objective intrigues. And once the intrigue is content, I manoeuvre towards even more Question Marks. Ah! Silly me. Should have bunged up at the Period itself.