Burnt Wood

The smell of burnt wood on my hands never fail to arouse me.
I was on a sabbatical with woodworks until I got a job decent enough to buy me what I consider the most valuable weapon I can have, a grinder.

I just started, or re-started, a project paused for a very long time. A hiatus of my addiction to wood, I can consider, of which wizarding fans would most likely take an interest in. I digress as to avoid being a spoiler.

Work has and is currently seeping into my veins. Just like the flu vaccine I had just yesterday, it will take a while until I get my arm back from the numbing stinging pain for the sake of the zeitgeist and my wallet.

I can feel the pressure, the push and pulls of ultimately everything. It's Mitch Alboms's rubber band analogy from Tuesdays With Morrie. I seem to be walking on thin ice, treading the wire, or a witch's fine hair strand that could turn me into a hideous amphibian as soon as it snaps. But nevertheless, I'm still breathing, my heart's still beating and my soul is still praying, so thank God. I always do.

It must have been a hard half year for a lot of us. But it's still the life we intend to live. And most of us may not understand an essence or two of living, but it takes guts to just head on through this path. I salute the ignorant and the innocent for walking through life blindly. As I say, every time I talk to myself and the rest of the universe, "We can only learn so much from every single cell we meet, touch and encounter each passing moment, and we can only share so much. The rest is up to us to live by."

Learn from the ancient scrolls of The Greatest Salesman in The World, live by The Secret and be A Warrior Of The Light.