I actually set my mind to attend FOP after 4 years of missing the festival. So I went along with my parents to Singapore Indoor Stadium to realise that there is no place for me in crowds. For who can I see in a crowd and who can hear me in the midst of the voices? I knew where my mother was but I was still lost. I couldn't find myself.

The discomfort was so great that I started to get breathless. There were so many faces that I could not recognise my own.

I'm thankful I did not go in the end. I'll never know how "on fire" the congregation was or how good Hillsong was. I only knew the silence that kept me company as I sat on the bench outside my grandfather's barber shop and the melancholy that flooded me as I stared at the shelter which housed my grandmother's earthly body on the last few days it had on this temporary place. That place is my childhood.

It is ironical to note that when you were young, you wanted to grow up but when you have "grown up", you want to be young once more. They say that growing up is painful because you need to face your maturity and also your life. To me, it is not the destination of growing up that puts me off; it is the process of it. The thing is that you miss growing up completely, being caught up with the stages of life that society pushes you to achieve. We only realise what we have missed after we have missed them. No more second chances and no re-living the past. Only "what if".

I want my five stones back.