Singapore Revisit Log #3.0

It was 12 am. I was walking distances alone. Much have changed since I last walked through the streets here. Within a year or two, it looked like a regular neighbourhood. It still felt the same, like I had never left. I would wake to see dawn if I made rest there and then. Such was the trust of the streets, who knew who I was.

Welcome home, said one. Welcome to the country of birth, I thought. What an amazing place, the country many of us called home. Lots of flaws no doubt, but there was charm in its imperfection. Though the intricacies irked me to no end, I felt a sense of gratefulness to be able to see my family and friends safe and sound once again. To most of us, nothing else mattered more.

The eerie feeling lingered. Despite being more than two years away and living in a brand new neighbourhood, the protocols seemed calibrated and cloned to a DNA pattern. I could cross the streets with my eyes and mind elsewhere, activate buttons I had never touched before as if I knew they were there all along. I didn't know whether to marvel or be annoyed at our relentless pursuit for consistency. Consistency provided predictability and stability but it brought the death of creation at its wake. There was always a price for anything we asked for. Anything. Home would be the prize for the price. All of us chose to pay a different price for what we truly seek.

When fear took over, faith was shaken. Without faith, there was little or no hope. Such was the importance of faith, lucent in the tunnel of desolation. Be it holy faith, undying faith or blind faith, that was the essence that fueled the glimmer of hope in our hearts as we walked through our own storms. How many more faith were already broken here and their eyes saw darkness, only darkness, through the scope of oracle.

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