IT used to be "When shall we three meet again... in thunder, lightning or in rain?" We said this line whenever we were planning a night out. We would say this line in unison and burst out in giggles and laughter.
Well, these days, my nights out are with Robert Frost. "And miles to go before I sleep... and miles to go before I sleep" is the line that surfaces very often for me (silently in my mind, like soft falling snow) -- followed by the mental image of a tired horse and an equally tired old man trudging through the snow and clip-clopping past the deep and dark forests.
I guess it has to do with age. Nights out? You must be joking. I'd rather catch the 9pm, Ch 8 -- my favourites are on -- Zoe Tay, Rui En, Chen Liping and Chen Haiwei. What a combination.
But I also watch the deep and dark forests from afar -- from my mind's window. As in the poem, they are rather appealing. So restful, a world where people do not get dragged 1km by runaway murderers, where people do not get slashed just because perhaps they walked in a manner that seemed upperty -- to someone.
But well, there are miles to go before I sleep... and miles to go before I sleep.