The right piece.

A jigsaw puzzle is my chosen metaphor for Life today.

You find the right pieces to fit the right grooves and you repeat the action 350 times (or depending on the challenge of the puzzle) to get the complete picture.

I never had much patience with jigsaw puzzles. They bore me to a similar level akin to reading the Yellow Pages. I get frustrated when I can't find the right piece to fit the other. So perhaps, for five minutes, I'd fuss and whine and try to find the right piece. Then I'd shrug and raid the kitchen for something to munch on, turn on the telly and watch Oprah. Then I'd surf the internet and blog surf and check my email. Then I'd raid the kitchen again.

Bascially I wouldn't go back to the puzzle. I've totally forgotten about completing it.

So I'm dipping a Khong Guan biscuit into my hot milo peng, and at the back of my head it kills me to know that among the unplaced pieces lay that missing puzzle that will fit the hallowing void screaming to be complete. I know it's there. And it's waiting. Yet here I am, feigning disacknowledgement.

I need to take a piss.
Maybe then I will know what I'm saying.