It's like.. driving a car with a scratch on the door. No doubt the car can still be driven, but seeing the scar there - it feels like a dormant ghost that threatens to float to the surface anytime. Thinking of that Anthropology text we did last semester - In Search of Respect by Philippe Bourgois. The Puerto Rican drug dealers were able to support themselves financially by selling crack, but it's quite obvious that they were envious of those who secured a legal entry-level job; the feeling of not being able to transcend the invisible lines of apartheid.
My case's a bit more complicated, cos I don't know which side of the fence I'm on.
In the past when things were different, dreaming is strictly optional. Now, when the circumstances permit, it's within my reach. Maybe I shouldn't be thinking so much. When the time comes, just cross the bridge, lah. I won't die; I'd just lose $100 at most. But what if I end up gaining $100? I'll really be put to the test then.
Obviously I'm not talking about betting $100 per se, but that's somehow related to what's on my mind now. I'm just wondering whether it's worth all that trouble. Thinking about the imaginary car with the scratch on it again...
have a nice weekend =)