In times still etched firmly in my mind and many others, things were different. For my generation, the children who grew up in the 90s – hanging from monkey bars and experimenting with Digimon evolution – the world was small and yet held so much mystery. Is my brother hiding there? Which character should I like? Why are all the characters I like all so lousy? Wonder if Mom will let me eat Twisties today. Life was packed with academic pursuits, no less by the decree of our parents, and as children – even as we tolerated hours of tuition, mental sums and 大拇指 – everyday had so much potential, although it always swung two ways; it could either be a perfect day, or the worst day ever.

I remember watching the first episode of Teletubbies, airing on Premiere 12, after hours of Chinese tuition and vocabulary practice – which involved memorizing the Bahasa Indonesia to English dictionary. I remember watching the first episode of Pokemon; even buying the VCD from the Popular right above Orchard MRT, and re-watching it many times over. I remember getting an Alan Shearer football jersey, a solid-looking (but phoney) garment that made me a Geordie for life (although I only learnt the Geordie part much later in life). I remember that my parents only ever allowed me 1 hour of PlayStation time a week (only on the weekend) – 1.5 hours if I worked hard – and that was how I finished both Final Fantasy 8 and 9. The 1 hour restriction was so prohibitive that I once feigned illness and skipped church, just so that I could play while my family was away (Shhhh, Mom never found out!!). Back in the study room, I would imagine my 习字 homework to be a monster; every line I completed was a dent in his HP bar. Celebrations came in the form of football sessions in and around the playground. And then there were the Bomberman toys you had to assemble yourself – going for 5 dollars each and a generous amount of arm twisting and homework-related promises to the parents. Gundams were out of reach because they were an exorbitant $18.90. Soon it would be Pokemon cards, and after that Magic: The Gathering, and then WWE Cards. Glistening foil was treasure to our hungry young eyes, and bubble tea was all the craze for the first time ever in Singapore; I wished I could have all the money in the world so that I could buy any ice blended drink I wanted.

It’s amazing what details I can summon, just by attempting to recall the past, and even as I flash an idiotic grin at my monitor from remembering past stupidity, I turn my mind to today. Just looking at the past few years of my life – it has been workday after workday, project after project, colleague after colleague and thank the heavens if our interactions go beyond the simple hello and a nod of the head. I am lucky, and I have thanked the heavens many times, but the truly special moments have become so far and few between – my memory is no longer so well-inked, and my day no longer as full of potential as it once was; it could either be a rather nice day, or it could be a really bad day. Nothing earth-shattering as far as I’m concerned, and that makes me worry that the sky would never be as blue as the day we came from behind to win the C Division, nor the dirt as welcoming as the day we sealed the A Division with a shutout.

I worry that the best days of my life are behind me. I worry that my days start losing their colour, and that the roof falls further even as my feet race tirelessly towards a light in the horizon.

How do I turn back the clock? How can I bring it all back, to the time when $18.90 could have bought me all the happiness in the world?…