because it doesnt feel like mine anymore. ):

time is like the sand in your hand. it is rough on the surface, but gentle on your skin. it gives you a warm and cosy feeling when it slips through the gaps between your fingers and descends like a waterfall to bury your toes. summer breeze, colorful umbrellas, and seashells dotting the beach.

then you try to pick the sand up - the exact grains, but you know that it is impossible now.

i get so thorny sometimes that i prick myself. :S

on a sad note, library@orchard will be closing in november! ):

for some strange reason, they call it moving on, but they cant call it moving on if its going to disappear for the next three years! (before relocating to somewhere else.)

they should call it a hiatus instead. :/
a painful hiatus for many of its regulars.

food therapy saved my day.

one year ago, i swore that i hadto come back to this shop, despite not knowing its name or location,

and i did, after stumbling upon it by chance (:



i had a lousy start to the day and an even lousier closing, but at least the middle of the day was sweet like the desserts, and stuffed with many pleasant moments.

in response to lays' entry, i think the second year of my varsity life happened in a haze too.

the first year was like a romantic comedy dubbed on a fast forward mode. i fell hopelessly and madly in love with what i was doing, in spite of the frantic race against time to complete project after project. i met many great people, tried many new things, and skipped more classes than i ever had. i remember the company, the stupid taiwanese dramas, the late nights, the crazy ktv sessions, the stayovers and hangovers, good old messy clubroom, 26th, and my beloved arts club. it wasnt a part of my life. it was my life, my driving force and the reason why i wake up every morning.

then came RAG, like a pregnancy. a lot of anticipation, a lot of hope, and a lot of conscious effort to keep it going. we spent six months planning for it, three months working on it, and nine months later, the baby was born -



only to be killed the next day along with my dream.

lesson of that year - casinos are a bad idea. fairy tales dont exist. neither does the American dream.

in a nutshell, we started at the foot of the mountain with nothing but our bare hands and our warm hearts, made it to the top, only to tumble down before we could peg our flag at the peak. my heart didnt just sink. it died and brought my faith with it.

and that was when my life began to slip downhill too. i started doing poorly in school despite all the efforts i tried to put it, i regressed and i shunned as many people as i could, ashamed to face my own failure, which i knew i wasnt responsible for. i just couldnt stand the fact that so many things were out of my control, and that God chose to be unfair, not only to me, but all the people who has put their souls into the project. if you ask me, i still feel the pinch occasionally. delayed grief, as you might call it.

so i dragged myself through my second year, emerged from the winter fog and dived head-first into my internship. during the eleven weeks when i was there, i rekindled my interest in the helping profession, re-discovered myself, and revived my faith a little. the testimonies of the patients moved me, their strength inspired me, but their departure shook the little girl in me. it shook me because i know that in most calamities, the survivors are the real victims.

so now that the rain has stopped and the flowers are blooming, i open the window to welcome the arrival of a new academic year. in three weeks' time, my third year commences, and it smells like the beginning of a spring. and here, i whisper my prayers to the wind, and hope that it would reach my lord.

direction, wisdom, and a light to guide me through my darkness days.

i love reading my archives and reminiscing the past! here is an abstract three years back (:

why people would want to have kids.

1. they think that kids are crayons.
- they add texture and colour to your life.
2. they think that kids are ropes.
- they tie your spouses to you.
3. they think that kids are life policies.
- they are an investment and security to old age.
4. they think that kids are mirrors.
- they are reflections of what you are.
5. they think that kids are vintage watches.
- they last longer than you do.
6. they think that kids are crude oil.
- refine them and make them your wealth.
7. they think that kids are like an extra spouse.
- one more person to love you.

its not the problem that is the problem.
its the coping that's the problem.

- virginia satir

and yes, i have problems coping with farewells and closures. i have difficulty letting go, moving on and accepting changes. so i always end up jump-starting the whole process by forcing a drastic change on myself almost instantaneously.

God takes me to good places, only to take me away from it later on.

i feel like im suffering from PTSD now. being followed by a freaky man is no laughing matter. ):
--
everyone is needy once in a while, but sometimes i just find it hard to accept people who are perpetually needy, 24/7 52/365. i know this is going to sound mean, but doesnt it feel like a double punishment? firstly, youre being punished when youre required to spend so much time and effort to attend to the person. and secondly, youre being punished when your friends start spending much more time on the person and neglect you because you dont need their help like the person does.

its so unfair, and its definitely frustrating.

after reading howl's moving castle in paperback, i feel that the animation has done terrible injustice to the plot development in the book, despite the moving compositions by joe hisaishi and the exquisite artworks by studio ghibli.

many print-to-screens are so disappointing!

to be honest,

even though i do enjoy the nature of my work, but i just cannot imagine doing the same thing for the rest of my life. in fact i cant imagine myself doing anything for the next forty years. in time to come, i will have to enter a tunnel, and i just cannot picture myself coming out of the tunnel because the end seems to be light years away. i dont embrace adulthood, i dont want to grow up, and i cannot bear to see myself age or my skin wrinkle. and most importantly, i cannot bear to leave behind all the fun that will pass with my youth. teach me how to grow up and grow out of myself.

because i feel like a child, refusing to step out of the playhouse.

there is no need to panic,

nobody is going to blame you.

and these parallel lines

that go on infinitely,

will bar you in and keep you safe.

now, its not about everyone wanting a piece of me,
but me wanting to run a lap of their marathons for them.

its unfair i have so little time sometimes. ):