I used to wonder why a tree had to be called a tree, and a flower – a flower. What if I were to raise a child and teach him/her to call a tree a flower, and a flower a tree, to call blue red and red, blue, to call an apple an orange, and an orange, an apple. I wonder whether the green colour that I see is the same green that you see. I wonder if perhaps I see the green you see in pink instead. Am I making any sense?

When I was younger, I could be doing anything, something as mindless and as mindful as sitting on a chair, believing that someone, somewhere else in the world, could be doing the exact same thing I was doing. If I knocked my head against a cupboard, I’d think someone, somewhere else in the world probably knocked their head against a cupboard the same moment I did.

Sometimes, when I repeat the name of an object while looking at it over and over and over again, the word becomes meaningless and my mind would go into a tumble. I remember staring at a door knob once (yes, of all things, a door knob!), and repeating the word ‘knob’ again and again until the physical door knob and the word itself stopped connecting; until ‘knob’ suddenly became foreign-sounding. Have any of you experienced that before?

I guess in a way, our lives can be anything we make it out to be. We can call something whatever we want, it’s just whether the people we are communicating with can understand the message we are trying to convey. Sometimes, living in a world of opposites feels like fun, like how we used to play ‘Opposite Day’ when I was in primary school and ‘yes’ meant ‘no’, and ‘no’ meant ‘yes’ – BUT only when we felt like applying it. Lol. I think I am kinda wierd. Doesn't it quite tickle you?