Finally,

HOME!

Have never been so happy to see this place,

yet I'm freaking out because the familiarity, the data that was supposed to be so rigidly planted at the back of my mind is fading away;

I was tongue tied speaking my mother tongue,

took the wrong escalator to a familiar place (my nan's home),

took a longer path under a time pressure (therefore, unintentionally making this error)...

Oh god,

No Hong Kong,

you must stay in my head,

forever.

x

:]

I'm finally heading back!

At Heathrow right now, waiting for the hours to pass by,

haven't had any sleep (which was only 40 mins to start with anyway) since 5am today...

But I know it'll all be worth it.

It's good,

soo good when people from all around tell you how much they wanna see your face,

and you to them,

it's just that the longing for a reconciliation in the near future makes you realise what you have missed,

and hence what we should all cherish more on a day to day basis.

I want you now, 852,

and all you ever mean to me.

x

B.

Stop snowing,

I just wanna go home.

:[

--

It happens doesn't it,

even something you've put in thousands of dollars to secure

would not go as planned;

because time is ever-going,

change is inevitable.

Hence the existence of weathering and etc.

The comes and goes,

when unpredictable,

I find the whole mechanism of it extremely irritable at this moment.

The operation where so many external factors could change the way of things

and make them not appear as you'd like to find it,

despite the amount of effort put into arranging it

makes the whole thing appear extremely selfish does it not?

Oh well,

another occasion to pass it by by just saying

C'est la vie.

B.

Is it true that the ones who are capable of forgiving

are much wiser than those who are only capable of forever holding a grudge?

I shall speculate and see what else's 'bout to arise...

then let go when the time's right.

This is a life lesson indeed.

B.

"Alone and awake I've looked at the stars,
The same that smile on you;
And time and again I've thought all the things T
hat you were thinking too.

I have dreamed that your arms are lovely,
I have dreamed what a joy you'll be.
I have dreamed every word you whisper.
When you're close,
Close to me.
How you look in the glow of evening
I have dreamed and enjoyed the view.

In these dreams I've loved you so
That by now I think I know. "

" Un p'tit coin d'parapluie

Contre un coin d'paradis..."

Not been snowing yet,

but woke up to a white, frost covered grass pitch.

Frost covered everything.

Getting cold now,

but so is the state of my worrying heart.

How could this be,

that I've been quite unfortunate in the strangest ways ever since I've relocated.

What is this path I'm unwinding, unravelling before me;

could these be signs that I'm not suited for where I am?

When I feel uncertain,

I like to take refuge in the fictional world,

and see the world for what it is through a protagonist unheard of.

This is the escapist's route,

but so what?

B.

Why is fate driving me through and down this road again?

I would admit I'm a bit afraid of what it is to come,

but nonetheless I would remain being myself,

and stand firm on my own two feet.

So what if people leave me?

It is more than obvious, in this situation, who's taken up the right side and who hasn't.

--

Which brings me to;

I'm trying very hard to understand why there are so many people in this world who are immature to this level and degree. Are they unable to evaluate what's a "should" and "shan't"?

Is it not time that I get shown that the world and it's people isn't turning to a position worse off?

My confidence and prospects for the people in our generation is dying.

B

I realised that I've

gotten over you,

a foolish, foolish crush that was never to result into anything in the first place.

B.

Sorry guys, these crappy phone pictures would just have to do for now.

My lovely little DC got stolen :[

What are the things that determine whether two individuals are meant to be or not?

I wish there was a definite answer to things like that,

and secretly hope some fortune teller working a crystal ball could tell me whether the subject of pursuit is worth chasing after or not.

Yet,

what makes the journey of life so incredible

is the fact that it's fully equipped with unexpected twists and turns,

like going on a camping expedition without plans, maps and aids.

Well,

let's see what's going to happen round the bend then?

B.

I'd rather be left unnoticed;

Don't give me hope if this is not what you want,

It hurts?

Sometimes I wish I were an object so I didn't have to have any emotional attachments,

with anything at all.

--

btw my camera's been stolen (by some asshole)

so it'll be a while till I have fresh pictures to put up.

B.

I guess some things are hard to maintain,

and pointless to do so too.

Finding out this way is still less painful I guess,

than having to face it up AND quickly come up with a good reaction.

Can I wish for something though?

Preserve the little bit of what we've had?

Thanks.

xx

--

God and,

I need to start finding the right people.

Or let the right people find me.

How does that even work?

I'm so sick of being the initiator.

B

The world as we percieve it, as it percieves us.

In our daily lives,

we often have to move about,

to and fro places that aren't reserved for our private use,

hence coming across numerous strangers, faces,

with each turn about to the corner,

or each bus ride.

When we arrive upon the topic of human interaction,

had there been two complete strangers,

and no 'man in the middle' to, perhaps, join up the points,

the only way a linkage could be drawn is completely left to the situation.

Had there been pressure that the whole point of a certain gathering was to mingle,

eg: parties, getting-to-know-yous, speed-dating,

then the chances of one approaching another is almost definite.

But had it been other circumstances,

such as being enclosed in a limited amount of space together in a forceful way,

awkwardness prevails.

But to break the ice,

it takes eye contact, initiation and etcetera.

This girl, she had beautiful dark eyes.

Me, being the shallow,

afraid of being too much of a stand-out under circumstances where I'm on my own,

I classified her, the avoiding glance and all-black apparel, as an 'emo'.

Had I felt rejected to any further friendly gestures,

because I assumed 'people of her type', they tend to not respond,

and I didn't want to feel embarassed,

- I pulled on an expressionless face.

Minutes later, when we made proper eye contact,

she smiled at me briefly,

only to be greeted by the cold front I've unconsciously set up.

Startled when I realised how I've chosen to conform to the other's ways of which I'd normally disapprove of,

I however, did not bother to correct what I've done,

but to shamefully look away and avoid her glances,

just so the other passengers would not think me queer for having made a big deal out of nothing.

Why is it that we've come to a stage where we allow peer pressure to change our values of what is right and wrong? Had I gone up and had the patience to endure the awkwardity of it all, I might've made a new friend with someone from a completely different background. How would it even have affected others, have I done this?

I think it's time to re-evaluate what the world, with all it's people,

make of us.

B.

I can't stand waiting any longer

I thought it was some sign from above,

for I finally had something and someone new to be after.

But no,

Fate's chosen to be cruel yet once again.

Yesterday came by so smooth,

I thought I would've had everything under control.

Stupid woman,

stop falling for anything without doing enough research!

Make sure...he's single first?

Yet,

What was that we had between us yesterday?

Or am I...

a 'friend'.

Case closed,

maybe this search should just stop.

Afterall, these things are supposed to happen when you least expect it right?

Play on, play on.

B.

The beauty of human beings are the kind of man power we are able to generate,

if we're willing to work together.

But then again,

the ultimate goal of this,

is always yet to excel in another competition or combat an opponent.

We are supposed to help men who fall down,

because we're in a better-off position.

But what if that means risking your own standing,

in that by making the effort to assist others,

there is a possibility you might fall

or graze your knee in the process?

To what extent is a deed done considered charitable,

before it would become an exploitation and abuse of another's ability to help?

Had I given you my work now,

would you become self-sustainable in the future,

or would we live in symbiosis,

but one that would evolve to the degree where it eventually gets parasitic?

Excuse my coming-out of my ugly nature,

but who would live just to feed another

without getting anything (they genuinely want) in return?

So should I,

or should I not?

B

The taste of defeat is bitter,

but will prove to be the greatest reminder of insufficient efforts in time.

I'm sorry I let the team down,

from now on, I will try and take this

all more seriously, just like everyone else does.

B.

"Girl stood on the rocks with the water at her feet

the sun on her skin and a tear on her cheek

With her hand on her chest and the wind in her hair

Underneath her breath like a beggar's prayer she said

I miss you, come back to me

I wish you'd come back to me

But nobody heard

And the world turned and the world turned and the world turned"

Beautiful song.

It's scary how it relates so closely to my current situation.

I don't normally listen closely to the lyrics, not everytime I hear an unfamiliar song.

And then through chance encounter, because a line or two suits my mood,

I'll relapse that song over and over again, and with each listen, pick up more details.

And grow to love/hate that song because it describes me so well.

Do you get that?

--

Our weekend's come and gone by much much much too quickly.

From preparing for Nicky's arrival, to picking her up at the station, to lounging about last night...

then finally sending her off at the train.

SIGH SIGH SIGH,

Will miss you, best bud!

x

B.

"I've got a midnight bottle gonna drink it down

A one way ticket takes me to the times we had before

When everything felt so right

If only for tonight I've got a midnight bottle gonna ease my pain

Fron allthese feelings' driving me insane

When I'm with you and everything's alright,

if only for tonight,

'Cause lately I've been stumbling feels like I'm recovering

But I think it's only for tonight."

I miss you.

B.

I went and trained for two hours straight today,

eventhough I came home dead tired from school already

and had to scoff down dinner in order to make it,

it was well worth it.

Its been too long since I've done any intensive sports,

too long to be of any good to my body.

Now I could feel the spirit reliving in me;

a hardcore session brings away all worries

and at that moment the outside world is at an unknown state.

Being on the court is like being sent off for a space mission :)

Should do this more often,

it feels awesome.

B.

learning to cope with your absence.

I should learn how to lead this new life on my own, right?

Here it goes again, you reappearing at the most unexpected, then disappearing off.

Or should I just assume that you're part of my history.

Stop torturing my mind like this.

You need to be packed away into a box,

tucked far away into the corner of the cupboard like the stuffed animals of my earlier years,

those with missing buttons, loosening seams and faded fabrics.

B.

Remember our little allegory;

the one about pulling off band-aids?

You cling to my mind like the band-aid over a wound -

the fresher it is, the more painful it is to lift off.

With time, the pain is washed off because the glue wears away.

It only stays because the injured wants it to stay on,

otherwise,

with a little flip up of the corner,

it peels off like a post-it,

painless, mark-less, traceless.

I choose to be a keeper,

because?

B.

It's always like this,

just when I've gotten to my upmost limit of pathetic-ness

and decide to give up dreaming,

you tune my positive energy back up.

And you're back again.

Now you're not,

I don't know what to do with you.

The build up is hollow, like foam,

so I have no solid footing to set foot on.

One of these days it'll all burst,

and I'll fall from the sky.

You keep telling me we're like the pair in Ladyhawke,

finally got round to watching it; indeed the whole concept is saddening.

Oh why oh why do you have to look so much like him too.

I think I'm about to go crazy.

"Cause you and I, get along for hours and on..."

screw that?

B.

Is this it?

Uni life,

supposedly a fresh new page,

yet.

Some things don't change.

Traces of you are like the pencil marks from the previous page, that gets imprinted onto the next if one wrote too hard on a writing pad.

It won't go away.

Irritated at first,

she'd slowly grow to not care about it's presence,

giving it minimal attention,

but it's still

there.

--

I'm loving this place,

the new environment,

weather

(fine, hate rainy days, but there's an atmospheric touch to them, chemistry achieved by the hazy rain and old buildings).

If only I could have someone to be with me all the time...

sigh,

lazy dreams.

B.

I got my head cleared.

I think.

I would have to call you up on my mind in order to see you,

I don't think of you when I don't want to anymore.

Have I gotten over this whole thing already?

--

Another thought:

sometimes the feeling of emptiness is so strong

that it's rock solid in the mind.

Ever experienced that before?

Ironic isn't it.

B.

1 final day.

"I'm leaving on a jet plane,

Don't know when I'll be back again..."

in about 24 hours,

I'm going to leave the place I called home for the past 18 years.

Besides just distant childhood memories,

there are lots I'm leaving behind too;

family, friends, items worth remembering...

yet much of all I could think about in the past few months

were thoughts of you.

I wish something miraculous would happen,

but the lights of hope are dimming,

dying out more rapidly than ever.

So is this it?

B.

2 days.

"Is it okay if I call you mine,

Just for a time,

And I will be just fine.

If I know that you know that I'm

Wanting, needing your love..."

I chickened out.

I was gonna tell you,

I swear.

But I can't bear the thought of being unable to return to what we have here.

Yet,

what if...

This is even worse than the chicken or egg question.

B.

3 days.

"Who is that girl with the crying face looking at millions of signs?

She knows that life is a running race,

Her face shouldn't show any signs..."

I can't believe

I actually got teary-eyed when I passed by your stop.

I miss your terribly.

:(

B

5 days.

"In an instant,

You are gone and I am scared..."

It's hitting closer,

the whole thing about starting a new page in life.

I've had to say goodbye to half of my family tonight,

and it was most awkward,

for the concept of having to leave behind anything at all is just so new,

so foreign that it might eventually be categorised as a fear.

As for you, I don't know.

I've never really had you,

but yet this non existant baggage,

having to admit it's non-existence,

is similar to asking a child to forget and tuck away his imaginary friend.

It's all about getting used to;

so while I'm used to the idea of having you around,

I will, eventually get around to, not having you around.

Eventually.

You realise that hope is as minimal as the last grains of sand

slipping through the neck of the hourglass,

that's because the thing that's scarce at hand right now,

is precisely

Time.

B.

6 days.

"Living our lives seperately.
And it's strange that things change.
But not me wanting you.
So desperately."

Time runs on and out without our notice.

Unlike cars on the road, there are no speed limit signs on the way

and so the passengers of time

could only get a grip of the rate at which everything slips by

if they remember to set things aside and observe.

Yet,

while I'm fully aware of how days fly by,

the person I would like to have taken notice

doesn't.

Soon enough I'll be gone and you said you promised,

but we won't get the chance to meet.

Not before I leave anyway.

Sorry about the not so elegant writing.

I'm so irritated.

SO.

Irritated.

B.

7 days.

"The shadow of our past,

Project on clouds of dust and gas

The ones where my eye will rest

A Silhouette of loneliness.

If you see these tears fill in my eyes

It's just the wind that makes me cry

If you could feel this pain inside

It's just the drinks we drank last night

It's just the drinks we drank last night..."

So the hours that follow after midnight,

we've decided to toast and drink away to our departure.

Dancing. under the blanket of heavy beats is inevitable.

Now how the hell did this lead to walking into the arms of an unknown stranger

and allowing him to touch me all over?

I felt no connection,

except a playful desire to keep him attracted;

I didn't want him in particular.

How good would it be, if we had this kind of bodily contact?

I want you only,

but you're never here.

What am I 'sposed to do?

B.

8 days.

"I thought I found the man of my dreams

Now it seems, this is how the story ends

He's going to turn me down and say:

Can't we be friends?"

In the wee small hours of the morning...

I choose to think about you.

The thought of instability,

not knowing whether the foot leaping outwards is going to step on solid ground

generates discomfort.

I don't cope well with insecurity;

it doesn't happen to me often,

but when it does, they are big issues,

leaving me at a point more vulnerable than ever.

I want to hang on to you,

but there's no point really when love is a manner of two people's way of interaction.

9 days. And a life's worth of childishness.

"Tombent les nuits a la lueurs de bougies qui fondent

Et que la lumiere soit

Passent les heures que s'ecoulent a jamais les secondes

Et que la lumiere soit..."

Beautiful lyrics.

I would've never come across Keren Ann's wonderful music had it not been...

yet another conflict with my dad,

on a topic tres juvenile.

Excuse my lack of accents by the way - can't be bothered to learn how to type them.

Who knew missed phone calls could result in a ... meeting with my father, ruined.

I hope he realises that this is one of the last times he'll see me before I leave.

This is just so perfect.

He was the reason I want to be away from home to start with,

and the feeling just got stronger.

There's quite a list of people I'm going to miss though.

B.

"Well, it kind of hurts when the words you write

And kind of turn themselves into knives,

And don't mind my nerve you can call it fiction,

'Cause I like being submerged in your contradictions, dear,

'Cause here we are,

Here we are."

I don't know what we are,

but right now, I just know that I really want to see you.

I need to.

B.

"How was I to know that this was always only just a little game to you,

All the time I felt you gave your heart I thought that I would do the same to you.

To tell the truth I should have seen it coming from a mile away..."

Once you're put on life support,

there is basically no other option.

No one expects a sudden recovery,

and spontaneous jerks of energy are no signs of hope.

No matter how hard the body's system tries to fight back,

it is inevitably, going through the process of decay.

The only variation from body to body

is the duration, the length of time it takes

till the organs reach the eventual stage of disrepair,

dysfunctionality.

In that specific scenario,

discomfort is hailed in from all directions;

the patient, ofcourse, suffers the more direct physical pain.

Yet, as those who've undergone these situations,

it's normally his closest;

family, friends and people of the like-

that suffer from pain in it's prevailing form.

Nothing hurts more than having to watch a loved pass.

Nothing hurts as much as to have to

watch love die.

and babe,

it hurts, like hell.

B.

"All I really wanna do is to love you,

The kind much closer than friends use,

But I still can't say it after all we've been through

All I want from you is to feel me,

As the feeling inside keeps building,

I'll find a way to you, if it kills me, if it kills me."

Still yearning and twisting a bit,

for the fluttering heart is looking for a safe spot to land.

I wish there was another way out of this than to just wait for the arrival of something new.

B.

"Woke up and wished that I was dead

With an aching in my head

I lay motionless in bed

I thought of you and where you'd gone

and let the world spin madly on."

I feel like I've moved on.

The emptiness no longer kills me;

wrenching at the heart whenever something reminds me of you.

Perhaps 'cause it's had enough as well,

and what feels like ripping burns are being defended against,

out of numbness.

It has been way too long,

much too long for me own good.

Yet the acknowledgement of this new-found liberation

is not reacting quite positively with the rest of my system.

I've been insomnic, thinking about the whole thing.

But on the other hand,

there are so many other things that are more satisfying.

It only takes a gather-round between family and friends.

I have a feeling that I'll actually miss this place quite a lot.

2 weeks exactly.

B.

Chasing Pavements

"This ain't lust, I know this is love...

But if I tell the world, I'll never say enough

'Cause it was not said to you

And that's exactly what I need to do if I'd end up with you

Should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavements

Even if it leads nowhere?

Or would it be a waste even if I knew my place

Should I leave it there...?"

That's basically my story.

Thank you Adele.

I'm chasing pavements, wound up and lost,

walking on eventhough I know it'll lead to nowhere.

What am I doing, wasting effort and time.

Yet my legs won't pause. They just won't stop.

I keep anticipating the eventual arrival/reward of...

you.

B.

"The more I see you, the more I want you

Somehow this feeling just grows and grows,

With every sigh I become more mad about you

More lost without you and so it goes..."

Being after something that you know will never be yours

yet is only just in fact, right in front of you,

is quite similar to the torture Tantalus goes through

as he positions his life around reaching above him

to the vine of grapes that has been cruelly placed just beyond his reach by the gods.

Just so what is perhaps, just a fingertip away

is still beyond reach,

and therefore,

never to be possessed.

"SOS means someone help me"

I still know it's so stupid of me

when I'm that someone who thinks the world of you

and to you, I'm just another person in the world.

What am I supposed to do,

when something you say or do,

actually everything,

seems to spark up new hopes;

when indeed

I'm really rather unimportant to you.

I'm really muddled up, tangled and wrapped in a mess that I've thrown myself into.

I wish you were more sensitive to these things sometimes.

B.

"And I think to myself,

What a wonderful world."

Today's been a rare occasion of which everyone (the four of us) was able to put down

what they were doing and get laid back for a while.

It simply consisted of four cousins strolling about Stanley's harbourside park

but perhaps with the dawn working it's magical pallette at the sky,

it appears much more atmospheric.

Though we might've not been able to chat up each other all the way through,

but the love was definitely strong and existent.

That's quality time spent together :)

I love you all,

we needa march on forward to pursue all our dreams,

and we shall hit the world with such great pact that we'll startle them all!

x

B.

"I'd like to celebrate you, dear,

All in all it's been a pretty good year,

I looked deep within myself,

I got scared by how hard I fell..."

So when and how exactly are we going to pick it up again?

Or...never?

I still want what we've had,

even if it just went on that way,

because I feel a little flight at the heart

whenever I hear from you.

Chasing after this,

I might as well be dead

because I know well enough for a fact that nothing's ever going to happen for real.

It's all just a loophole of misunderstanding.

God, and I'm deservant of this

because I remain a believer,

a dreamer,

remain someone naive and stupid?

B.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers,

Singing my life with his words.

Killing me softly with his song,

Telling my whole life

With his words..."

We've all had those moments where a song appears to be threaded,

stitched right up against your heart,

in that it's able to describe that particular feeling so well

that it seems the frequency in which your heart beats to

have formed the song.

Killing Me Softly is as beautiful as a song could get;

it's timeless - it still makes my heart melt everytime I hear it.

More touching still, when I found out today that it was

actually written about Bob Dylan.

--

As these days of non-communication pass me by,

I turn my focus onto the wooden soundbox,

practicing,

perfecting the timbre that shakes off in response to the impacted strings.

I hope, by the time I leave home, I'll have a handful of old songs I could take with me,

to everywhere I go.

So many that I could pick up a guitar anytime and any place,

and be able to voice out what I feel using songs from the past.

B.

How about planning for an escape to a small town with a loved one,

going on cozy trips to the sea,

strolling down brick lanes with flowerpots hanging outside french windows.

I'd like that.

B

"I don't wanna go another day,

So I'm telling you exactly what is on my mind.

Seems like everyone's breaking up,

and throwing their love away..."

I feel extremely desperate,

just to try and get things back on track.

This isn't even normal.

What the fuck happened?

--

I just want to know,

if what I thought existed between us

did exist, for awhile at least.

Why am I still waiting to hear from you

everyday?

B.

"A life goes by,

Romantic dreams must die...

So close to reaching that famous happy ending,

Almost believing this one's not pretend..."

The process of healing's like searching for a blooming blossom

under the harsh winter weather,

The only solution to which is time;

so to bring in the warm air once more,

which harvests the young and new,

so to blur and put in the distant

the less admirable momentos of the past.

The cure to heartbreaks

is time.

B.