Relapse.

I'm trying not to think about you, only because I know you'll forget to remember that the broken remnants are still breaking.

Lord, grant me strength to pull through these seemingly hopeless moments.

Regardless of the minimal sleep and a prominent result in haggardness, the hyperactivity was duly lucrative, in ways and forms that material could never replace. Thank you Macpherson secondary's Fantastic Gatsby 4, for making fatigue joyful.

Mirror mirror.

After campfire!

I am aware of the fact that I look horrendously haggard (and cui).

They were laughing at this picture throughout the night.

"Fill in the gaps. Watch out! Oncoming vehicles. Keep to your left. Stop flirting with your girlfriend and walk already! Drink a gulp of water now. Can you guys walk faster?"

Proud instructors receiving THE first commendation letter from the school (for new birds like me).

Alright. The end. (:

The contemptuous breeding of ironic familiarity tugged me from behind as I trailed your sweet sad scent. Your back mocked a parody at the traces I took forward after you.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. What goes out of sight, goes out of mind. So which is it?

Your fingertips across my skin
The palm trees swaying in the wind
Images

You sang me Spanish lullabies
The sweetest sadness in your eyes
Clever trick

I never want to see you unhappy
I thought you'd want the same for me

Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
I should've known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do

We walked along a crowded street
You took my hand and danced with me
Images

And when you left you kissed my lips
You told me you'd never ever forget these images, no

I cannot go to the ocean
I cannot drive the streets at night
I cannot wake up in the morning
Without you on my mind
So you're gone and I'm haunted
And I bet you are just fine
Did I make it that easy
To walk right in and out of my life?

There's a limit to optimism. Life's a bitch smoking me inside out. Suck it up, like I always say. Doing just that. So hello, goodbye.

It happens. One day you let someone take your heart apart, you let that someone inspect its tiniest, most delicate mechanisms. And when that someone's gone, you try to put it back together again, but you find that it's ticking differently. You'll attempt at fixing the parts that requires mending, but the clock's not the same altogether. Just not the way it used to be, could have been, or should have been anymore. Your whole life thereafter, you'll discover that opportunities given and granted, actually turns out futile. And whether or not you're with or without the missing pieces that complete you, you're still somehow, unfixed, fragile, broken, unrepairable.

Cause and effect; some a great turnout, some a heinous failure, some unintended, some unexpected. Everything happens for a reason. Reasons we may or may not depict or ever fathomable. The big ol Man up there has a vast infinite of well-intended plans for every individual. There are blessings who come in forms of irreplaceable kinship, reconciliation with loved ones, or even the simplest of appreciation like an apology. With every given, I'm blessed.

And just like cookies, love is actually sweet. It is hopeful, kind, thoughtful, simple, perfect, and well, oozes outbursts of flavours. All we have to do, is explore and embrace.

A happy 'wear yellow' Valentine's day to me, and to one and all.

I take joy in morning blogging, whereby thoughts are crisp and nicotine tastes like good ol' breakfast and when the sunshine doesn't eat into the sheets. Mornings are optimistic primes of the day, whereby consequences are not heavy in duty. Mornings are periods of days whereby I take spelling, grammar, punctuation and what-nots into consideration and detailed re-checks.

I've been highlighted at your email address for the past solid 15 minutes but feeling many tads too apprehensive. The apprehension will die into faded regret as the hours of dawn clocks into yet another afternoon.

Oh, mornings are also the only occasions whereby a cigarette can last me for 20 minutes. Come afternoon, I'm taking a little trip down to the mall for a little solo retail therapy session. Ay, what harm would a little do?

Well, good morning.

Post #1196. My muse is endless, and I may possibly rant too much, but at least the mojo has remained constant throughout the years.









Does looking back help people bloom and grow? I encouraged reminisce and browsed through old photos, only to experience a certain surge of what I'd call an 'ouch'.








Do you remember taking them? You loved me through chubby and skinny phases. These memories are irreplaceable. Thank you nonetheless, for four years, for happiness, for sorrow, for everything.

Tame.

How dare you say it's nothing to me. Baby you're the only light I ever saw. I'll make the most of all the sadness. You'll be a bitch because you can. You try to hit me just to hurt me so you leave me feeling dirty cause you can't understand.

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room.

You make me smile
Please stay for awhile now
Just take your time
Wherever you go

It's disgusting, the way you misuse God's name, very much in vain.

You were mine and now you're mine to want
And I knew if you'd cut the cord
And rushed like balloons I'd fall
It's criminal to pause
As you basked in the season of I had it all
And I forgot what I had sometimes

Relationships aren't my kind of business.

All you need to do now is to be honest with me.

I haven't cried in a long while, and now the record's broken. Why do you always have to do this to me?

I'm trying, trying my limits. It's so hard. Can't you see? Stop putting me to this test, over and over again.

Please. Let me off.

As unlucrative this camping business may be for instructors, my spirits have successfully been on a higher strut. My past pales in comparison to the uplifting transformations that are consistently ongoing. Sure, my pocket's running drier by the day but it's always the companionship of people that aureates positivity.

The legends.

The oriental festivities are already festooned with frantic overnight preparations, harmonious merry-making and gathering of communities. I must admit, it's unusually heartwarming to sit back and glee at my parents staying vigil to whip up sumptuous spreads for guests, taking into consideration of the fact that they seldom get together without eardrums-damaging rackets (and cooking the family's classic favourites - century egg porridge and mutton soup).

There were like two hundred ducks aligned like that.

I loitered elsewhere, and no surprise where that place turned out to be.

Half of our GIANT loot.

What a shocker ay.

January has snapped by and hello February. There's the sissy turning 18, the much anticipated Valentine's day, multiple other birthdays, a string of camps, potential job opportunities, pay day and reunions. Life is good, and is damn well going to better to the skies. Thank you, to all who were and are a part of it.