To the nameless dude at raffles place I saw through the window the other day, eating his daobao-ed lunch at his desk
You’re always swimming. Gotta swim fast, you say, faster and faster still. When the net comes down, you’ve gotta be swimming fast to not get caught.
Can’t you just chill, I say. Lepak la…just live a little. What good is living if all you do is spend it swimming? Ain’t no use trying to run, anyway. Sooner or later, one way or another they’ll get us. So might as well be kids and have as much fun as we can before they do.
But you won’t listen. There’s no time to chill, no time to have fun, you insist. We’ve got to keep swimming, and we’ve got to swim fast.
Yup. When the net finally fell, you were swimming fast, the fastest ever, just like you said you would. And it got you all the same, just like I said it would.
So there you are now. Probably on some fancy white plate with spring onions sprinkled all over you. Having never lived, you dead dude.
