Motivations of an unscrupulous kind

I'm being bugged.

By... myself? The past Rachel gets shooed away and locked up like a caterpillar in a finely spun spider's web. The future Rachel says to the present one: Now, now. We must all behave ourselves. Don't get drunk or even half-drunk. Act decent. Stop being so wilful. The present one happily cheers itself up in the company of decent, good, friends while ignoring the past's cries for rescue. A few years later the past finally unwinds itself from the tangled mess of web it has spun itself into. It comes, face to face with the present while the future dissipates with a poof! into thin air. And that's where it gets complicated.

A note to guys: (Perhaps I should be lecturing on Relationships 101: Communicating with the female gender) Firstly never ask a lady 'Are you alright?' when you know she's not unless you're expecting a wack on the head by her killer slipper. This also applies when she's sick or feeling/looking miserable. It is highly imprudent to comment on the obvious. Basically she's not in a jovial state of mind already. Also applies when she's crying, or about to. Never say the dreaded words 'Don't cry', it will only make her feel like crying more. And hating you for spoiling her mascara and feeling weepy and generally unhappy. Yep. At times like this just offer the nice manly shoulder and listen to her blabber till she's exhausted.

Then congratulate yourself on how s.n.a.g you are.

In many ways this season, I question my motives in doing things. Personal motto is always to be sincere in every dealing. But yea, there is still the question of the past repressed eventually catching up with the 'no regrets' present and the hopeful future. Was so troubled that all through yesterday an inner voice told me to 'Talk to Mr Foo" - this highly enlightened being who looks ageless - really; besides being charming, kind-hearted and chivalrous AND suave, I would like to believe that sometimes, he takes that little bit of effort to look out for me. and welcome me into his humble abode, his gang of merry, friendly men not found in other habitats. Unashamedly I told him about my inferior motives and lack of integrity in certain methods I was applying to my life. He provided me food for thought (and was a definite instument in uplifting my spirits) for he said that although my motivations were not unscrupulous, they certainly meant well. Which is true, in a way - I never meant harm or hurt to anyone that might be impacted by me. In living life too close to the edge I'm beginning to realise that I'm always saved in the nick of time when I call. Each day is a decision by itself, formed by a bubble of thoughts, hopes and dreams - one which, when not treasured, quickly fades away into obscurity.

Show me the way how; and I will bravely follow.