Time marches on, oblivious to my struggle. The issue I face every day — every single day! — remains unresolved. Do I exist to tackle this issue? Or does it demonstrate the continuity of my existence; a testimonial of my life; a witness to my tribulation?

How true can this be then?

It is apt and succinct in how Aristotle once said: We are what we repeatedly do. Greatness then, is not an act, but a habit.

Yet there are days when I am simply unable to choose in face of my daily adversary, unwise in my judgement of the matter. Or is it a false dilemma in the very beginning of societal formation?

Just as another great thinker of ancient past, Socrates, posited: Life contains but two tragedies. One is not to get your heart’s desire; the other is to get it.

Should I decide one against the other, would then be to turn my heart — and my back — against the other! The agony!

The choices that are before me!

However shall my heart endure such great tragedy of life then, when it is too fragile, like a piece of glass standing in the way of a rolling boulder known as decision?

Yet the philosophy of life is so set against me! Indeed, teasingly so!

How I dread the time to make a decision that affects my life so ultimately. And it occurs, time and again, the unrelenting striking of wooden fish within the hallowed walls of Buddhist temple! If only, the peace of my mind is attained the same manner!

“Dude, I ask a simple question. Why are you making it so complicated?” my colleague frowns at me.

“I’m sorry, what is the question again?” I smile sheepishly, hoping to buy more time.

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