At first, coffee and a piece of danish like this from GTower Hotel Kuala Lumpur's Buffet Breakfast would seem to be quite scrumptuous, but then, being ill- with a systemic viral infection, no less, would work to dull anyone's appetite.
I have just come off of sick bay. This boy just went through the ringer. A fever, colds, nasal congestion, and whole host of other things later, and, well, I feel like a newly groomed dog- with a bad owner.
This past week has given me time off of the computer (my eyes and head couldn't take the radiation), and time to reflect on the future.
Destiny. It's a grand thing. It is said, contrary to what popular culture would state, that our personal destinies are always under our control. I believe that we always are in control of where we end up, and it would be foolish to think otherwise. Fatalism can be the stuff stale tofu is made of.
Way over Jonker. One Flintstone-sized Pineapple Tart in Jonker Street, Malacca. I was there in December 2013.
My destiny has spoken to me about seeing the world. My destiny has spoken of me going to the extent of arranging a bit of subterfuge with the agents of ennui, intellectual stagnation, and settling for satisfactory cakes. You never settle for a satisfactory cake. You always have to go for the most savory, the most freshly basked, the most satisfying bit of pastry you can get your grubby little hands on.
Of it you're like me, you can try your hand at a low fat, low sugar, treat. Real dieters don't mind the subtractions.
Seriously, though, being ill can do a lot of strange things to your mind- like, make you want to wander and never come "home".
Then again, is it really that queer to dream of flight, or, is it but natural to bring out the inner Icarus in you, once in a while?
It's good to be bothered sometimes.
MC
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