Perched on a low step in the kitchen,
i stared out into the back garden –
a familiar scene when i’m pushing myself to get on to a piece i work i have yet to finish.
At this point of time it’s a 30-minute speech for the Asian Bloggers & New Media conference this Wednesday.
I noticed a trail of ants steadily making their way into a crack at the doorpost.
In previous times, i would have stuck chewing gum or other suitable matter into the hole,
just so the ants would go lose their home and go away.
Many-a-time i’ve done it,
and every time with an ounce of satisfaction and a pinch of glee.
Staring at the ants, i pretended i was an ant.
All the hours and days i spend,
working on this entrance to an empire.
And for who? The queen.
But as nature goes, i have to do what i have to do.
And i know no other life.
If so happens something happens to the entrance,
we would just toil all over again to make it work.
(Maybe some ants talk like Tim Gunn, who knows?)
After my imagination time being an ant,
i couldn’t bring myself to do anything to the bottom of the doorpost.
Who am i to play God in an ant’s world?
Already i have the Universe playing God in mine.
