i hope you will be able to crawl out of the tunnel one day.

then you would see the sun's ray soaking through the canopy, the breeze teasing the leaves, and the birds dancing from branch to branch.

and you would know that the nightmare is finally over.

there are mornings when i wake up with a tinge of sweetness in my heart.

and this is one of them.

anger is my morphine.

today i stretched out my arm and tried to catch a raindrop with my hand. but they retaliated by gently bouncing off my palm, and landing on the tongue of my shoe.

there are some things in life that we can never keep.

help, i have done it again
i have been here many times before
i hurt myself again today
and, the worst part is theres no one else to blame

ouch i have lost myself again
lost myself and i am nowhere to be found,
yeah i think that i might break
lost myself again and i feel unsafe

be my friend, hold me
wrap me up, unfold me
i am small, im needy
warm me up
and breathe me

-- breathe me | sia

this song seduces. it makes me feel like drowning. (:

fifteen minutes of gushing. fifteen minutes of high.

its been such a long time since i last had a chance to plug in my earphones into my laptop and chill out to the quiet tunes of ryan adams in the darkness of my room.

it has been a really slow week, and i have managed to crawl through it. sunday is waiting ahead for me, and i shall have half a day to hide in my shell.

i read that line again, and i knew it was much more than just a colon and an open bracket. it felt so strangely familiar.

sometimes i feel an urge to bare my heart out in hope that it will help me let go of certain things and certain people in my life.

my journal is the only thing in the world i have been truly faithful and truthful to. i dont lie to my journal, and in return it doesnt lie to me either. but i dont usually take out my past journals to read because im afraid that i would uncover some memories and emotions which i had previously buried within the pages.

on a particular spring, i wrote about how you once told me that you wished i could be the fifth person you met in heaven (with reference to the book by mitch albom), so that i could talk to you forever. and how i felt so touched at that moment because i had wished that you would be one of the people i meet too.

i wrote about how you accidentally dozed off one night when we were on the phone and i was so worried for the entire night because i knew you were down and i thought something had happened over your side.

i wrote about how i once lost something, only to find out a year later, to my complete surprise, that it was none other than you who took it and kept it.

people come and people go in life, but in my journal, i write about the people whom i hope i would remember. and within those pages, i hold their names and keep them in my heart.

the room was messy with half-empty packet drinks spilling all over the floor, paper crumpled and strewn all over the table. it was bustling with noise of people who was oblivious about what was happening around them, and everyone was just too busy talking among themselves.

i walked in in quiet panic, and scanned my eyes across the crowded room for something.

you caught my eye, pointed to a certain document, and asked,

'are you looking for this?'


--

there is more pain than love in love itself.

in the silence of the night, i felt the melancholy in the wind seep into my heart.

and i began to choke on the sorrows of yesteryears.

i once went on a kayaking expedition a couple of years back.

my memory of it is still so fresh in my mind because it was such a bitter experience, although ive never admitted it in public. i can still recall how my partner and i struggled against the tides, the storm and the wind, and against our greatest obstacle - ourselves. everybody ahead was paddling fiercely, and there was simply no chance that we would ever catch up. soon, the saltish water was getting into our eyes, the blisters on our palms and the lactic acid in our arms. the grey clouds above were threatening to engulf us, and before long, we were not only drenched in rain, but poor morale and low spirits.

that was when i started chanting in my mind - the more tired we are, the harder we have to paddle.