this too, shall pass

surely it is not an overreaction of sorts, surely this must be a case of cat and mouse chasing nothing and everything at the same time? or you know, pulling the rabbit out of the hat after it miraculously disappeared before..?

you had your chance..

to see a friend step up.. and yet not to be there, to hear the laughter over barbeque.. from afar, to cover the tears with good cheer.. but dying a little inside. to be inspired to write.. but for all the wrong reasons. no, it is not the caffeine that makes my hands tremble tonight.

knowing isnt quite the same as sharing is it?

you had your share..

could be the result of crowd aversions and secret getaways. could be the reverse of a metamorphosis, a cocooning of thoughts.. hardening away into an empty shell, shielding a devolution of flesh. selfish, that is what this is. that reluctance should arise when taking a step back is for the betterment of most, if not all. the deviation of values, the pathetic feeling of rejection, the over-reliance on comfort taken for granted.

blissful ignorance was never an option was it?

no wonder the ferrero rochers sitting outside have been dwindling in numbers so quickly. if i stay awake long enough, it might do the disappearing act too.

thank you

for not judging,
despite the whispers.
for holding the umbrella,
even when it was too small for two.
for welcoming with open arms,
a faded rainbow.
for entertaining an insatiable appetite,
from north to south to city to town.
for not just tolerating the angry outburst,
but turning the despair into smiles.
And most of all..
for showing me the world,
in one weekend.

of love-hate relationships

it is like hitting the replay button, because the mental wars never stop.

i love you. i hate you.
you're delicious. you're worth 100grams of fat for every mouthful i partake.
you are addictive. you are detrimental to my health.
you let me down. and then you surprise me.
the performance is satisfaction-guaranteed. i just wish i didnt have to watch it with you.
you take up too much time. you are also my most rewarding experience.
you mean the world to me. if only you werent just twirling me around your fingers.
you make me happy. i dont even know you.
you can criticize my values and my reasons. just dont impose yours on me.
frustrating is your middle name. endearing is your first.
you unleash the competitive streak in me.
you also pull my muscles, and i cant walk down the stairs tomorrow.
you are horribly delightful, messing with my mind. i think the lights are so pretty.
you give me headaches and clog my throat. you are my most valid excuse.
i dont ever wanna hear from you again. one call lights up my day.

ironically, the same euphoric highs you get are inevitably going to be as pronounced as the psychotic breakdowns. blast the good times, lets get on to the next adventure.

hoping isnt all that bad, as long as you expect the worst.

choice

comes with a price.

a sacrifice, a stoical perseverance that either makes or breaks you.

the ultimate highs. your soul-breaking experiences. the wasted time and captured moments. the friends you hold close to your heart. your lovelies. your excessive consumption of gastronomical delights. your alchohol indulgence. the moments spent running away, from responsibilities.. and reality. your soft spot. the straying temptation. your endless laughter, and streaming tears. your fears unfaced. candid shots. the views beyond your imagination..

..the memory collage is beautiful.

the malaysian weekend

exhausted body, exhilarating games, excellent company.

the cumulation of MASCA Games ended in the grand finale Msian Night- where Victoria meets South Australia meets Tasmania meets Queensland meets New South meets Western Australia meets Canberra in a night of traditional glamour.

the Victorian vball team

happy people

dejavu at san remo

sisters beautiful in green

some of the podium takers

matching reds

good ol times

thumbs up

mixed doubles gold!

sydney-ians

silver for vball!

the inter-state badminton entourage

we meet again

the natural angle

my lovelies throughout

bite baby

night lights

super martini

what a weekend! i could not have been happier.. it's been awhile.

next up, MelCon!

fragmented yesterdays

was reading the old posts..

hazy recollections, too faint to be certain.
the cheeriness, the metaphors, the dark thoughts,
familiar yet strangely distant.
could it have been that long ago?

was looking at the old pictures..

.. nights out, partying, drinking, camwhoring.
the faces, so young.. the smiles, so carefree.
i almost forgot how everything has changed.
surely it cant just be me?

was gonna start writing the overdue article..

.. but instead was reminded of the past.
the buried emotions, the memories left behind.
the melancholy gets to you sometimes.
is this how it is supposed to feel?

you dont realize how far ahead you are until you stop to look behind..

.. just make sure you get back on track soon enough.

the man of my life

i love how you send me quirky e-mails

that have me laughing out loud
with you, at you, at us.
it's amazing how we have reached a point
where anything at all can be said.

i love your delightful insights
about life, about me, about people around us.
you never fail to surprise me
with your sharp observations.
your intuition has already gotten you so far.

i love how you have let me go,
yet still hold a part of me.

im sorry i cant be home this winter
you know i would love to..

happy fathers' day pa!

numb

she stares blankly at the papers in front of her, seeing past the printed knowledge meant to save her this friday.

in the next half-moon cubicle, teenage boys throw vulgarities at each other, an obvious norm in their daily conversation. the chatter drones on, mildly comforting because it ties her down to the reality that she is not in the safe haven of rainbows. the cleaner stacks up the grey stools on the white tables. an unintentionally hostile move, depriving new customers of choice.. and reminding existing ones that it is already two hours past midnight. the music is strangely familiar; pop in all its young glory. the smell of fries wafts through the air. oil-laden, salt-infested, the staple meal for almost all present. two policemen walk in. two friends follow. medics arrive not long after. all with a common goal.. supper.

her shoulders rise with every breath, her body otherwise motionless. the calculated movements stop her from feeling already more suffocated than she already feels. the seat grows warmer by the minute, but her fingers turn icy cold. she wills the tears to come, but none surface. inside, the war continues. outside, she is the picture of tranquility.

she remembers the barter trade; vulnerability in exchange for sweet nothings.

she should have known.