And then you realize maybe you are just a filler.
That comma before a period.

People will always believe what they want to believe. There’s really no use in trying to explain oneself.

Sometimes I wonder my carefulness with words is a curse or a blessing. I wish I could be more candid and speak the truth freely but I can’t. Always calculating the consequences and the what ifs. I wonder how others do it, being so careless. Perhaps you do need a certain level of selfishness because all you are concerned about are your own feelings and not thinking about how your words will affect others .

In vino veritas...
Even in a stupor, my censors still seem to be working... how odd

The week’s been a busy one. Lotsa strange things happened and I haven’t had time to properly digest the chain of events. Been feeling unsettled and finding myself wishing everything could return to normal but I’m not sure if it ever will. I’ve been asking myself if I’d ever done anything that could have caused misunderstandings and in all honesty, I couldn’t find any. What do all these mean? It just makes me more disheartened than ever at relationships, love, marriage...the picture that others paint is often not what it seems.

Sometimes I wonder why did I allow myself to be someone else’s doormat, at someone else’s beck and call, and the receiving end of unreasonable criticisms. I guess I’m done. We’ll eventually slip out of each other’s lives. So why bother ?

It’s one of those days when I just felt like retreating into my cave. Didn’t respond to any messages coz I just couldn’t find the energy to. I guess maybe I am tired of people. The need to communicate. The need to do things. I wonder if I’m having more and more of such days. Today’s susan’s Birthday. Third year of missed celebration.

Where’s Wally?

Found an old calendar that has “where’s wally?” on it, so I played. 

Halfway through the pages, this game reminded me of how finding wally is analogous to finding a perfect partner. There’s often chaos and the “almost-wallys” that you have to contend with. Sometimes we get detracted from our search and settle for the almost-wallys because we have given up hope of ever finding Wally or we just couldn’t tell the impostors from the real thing. Almost-wallys will do because the real Wally doesn’t exist. Or does he? So then, where’s wally? 

Saw this paragraph while at a data science course and I thought it was beautifully written. It gave the sense of a cold, empty winter, and so I bought the book. 
It was Hemingway’s nick adam stories. It was a good albeit disjointed read. Still the prose was captivating and Hemingway had this sharp observation of his surroundings, describing every scene to the most minute of details, especially the trout fishing scenes. 
The chapter I liked most was the one when nick and his sister ran away to escape the game wardens. 
That kind of love they had for each other is almost incomprehensible. 

"In the fall the war was always there, but we did not go to it any more. It was cold in the fall in Milan and the dark came very early. Then the electric lights came on, and it was pleasant along the streets looking in the windows. There was much game hanging outside the shops, and the snow powdered in the fur of the foxes and the wind blew their tails. The deer hung stiff and heavy and empty, and small birds blew in the wind and the wind turned their feathers. It was a cold fall and the wind came down from the mountains."

Haven’t been keeping track of the books I’ve read.
Read Harper lee’s Go set a watchman, Joseph crespino’s Atticus Finch- a biography, Antoine st-exupery’s flight to arras , jay parini’s the last station, and Jonathan franzen’s the discomfort zone,
Not much. Was a tad disappointed with go set a watchman and understood why from Atticus Finch that tho it was written prior to To kill a mockingbird, it wasn’t published first. Didn’t enjoy flight to areas as well. It was a little dry and kinda all over the place. Jay parini’s last station was about Tolstoy’s last days. Although it was a nice idea, I didn’t like the writing style. It lacked a certain poetic quality to it. In the last station, Tolstoy became increasingly uncomfortable with the lavishness he lived in as it was incompatible with the teachings of humility and simplicity he extolled. He became intolerant of his wife as she still hung desperately to materialism. Oftentimes, we do not examine what our values are, what others values are, nor discuss openly about these things with the significant people in our lives. We then live in misunderstandings and disillusionment.
Anyway I enjoyed the discomfort zone, which was a raw and honest autobiography of sort about puberty, family, marriage, books, politics and in a weird section birding. Some books I wanted to read from the book - Kafka’s The Trial, Rilke’s notebooks of malte Laurids brigge, the magic mountain

Nowadays I find myself wanting to conserve energy for better things, and better human beings.
Some people’s selfishness is just beyond my understanding and I’d rather just not waste anymore of my time on them.

And I weep

You’ve forgotten,
Love is pure.
By the sirens’ call,
Your heart was lured.

At your feet,
Gathers the remnants
Of love trampled,
And of hearts stolen.

A requiem you sang
For the heart asleep
For the love you massacred
And then I weep

For I’ve awaken from my reverie.

紅笑臉 紅裙 紅絲巾
白紙般 坦率還天真
一對眼 水晶般吸引
流轉的舞步 像浮雲

忘記你 但仍然想起
愈想起 更加難入寐
緊抱你 抱緊的只得空氣
明知得不到你 何必再要記起

一絲絲 一點點 燒毀憶記
一幅幅 一聲聲 又復燃起
怎麼捨得你 任由我 腸斷至死

戀一生 差一些 不可一起
只一心 等一天 日月如飛
卻等不到你 願忘記 又想起你

情與愛 是無從更改
未更改 卻因何分開
失去你 才明白未可捨棄
但始終祝福你 寧願我這田地

一絲絲 一點點 燒毀憶記
一幅幅 一聲聲 又復燃起
怎麼捨得你 任由我 腸斷至死

戀一生 差一些 不可一起
只一心 等一天 日月如飛
卻等不到你 願忘記 又想起你

一絲絲 一點點 燒毀憶記
一幅幅 一聲聲 又復燃起
怎麼捨得你 任由我 腸斷至死

戀一生 差一些 不可一起
只一心 等一天 日月如飛
卻等不到你 願忘記 又想起你

In sickness and in health

Oftentimes we paint the perfect picture of our future. Brushing aside the possibilities that perhaps the future’s not gonna be as rosy as we thought it would be.

I wonder how many of us would be willing to shoulder the burdens of “in sickness”. Would we begin to see the caregiving as burdens or acts of true love.
Are we there for only the good times? Do we love someone because of their “worth” to us, because we need them, whether it’s for the company, the entertainment, or simply because they love us more.

During this time, I began to see who are the ones who only pay lip service and who are the ones to really step up and shoulder all the responsibilities because they truly care. I begin to see who are the dependable ones and who are the ones whose shadows you could barely glimpse because there’s nothing in it for them.

You chased after the wind because you believe there’s true joy in doing so.
You chased after the wind because that’s the only way you know.
You chased after the wind because you no longer believe in love that’s pure.
You chased after the wind because the whole world’s on it.

motorcycle diaries -- Che Guevera

just started on this book, while being halfway through chasing the last laugh, which narrates Mark Twain's journey round the world being a stand up comedian to clear his debts during his silver years. Never knew he was a comedian.
Anyway back to che... it just strikes me how fearless he and alberto were, dropping out of school and travelling around latin america with barely a dime to their name, on a dingy motorbike. I think these days one can hardly find people like that. We have all been conditioned to think that our life course should be graduate from college, find a job, get married, buy a house, have kids, earn enough to retire. We crave safety, routine, comfort. and it's so easy to get trapped in this cycle. once u earn a certain amount of salary, acquire things, it becomes difficult to let them go even when we know these things hold no real value. We chase after what everyone else wants, what everyone thinks are important, never stopping once to reflect if these are the things our hearts desire too, and what they really mean to us.
How do we get out of this rat race? i dont know.

been on a slippery slope for the longest time
without God at the centre of your life
one chases after all the wrong things
making all the wrong decisions
for a moment's pleasure
for a moment's folly.

by the lake

"I just want to be free! Why do we have to be what others want and expect us to be?  Say the right things, do the right things, wear the right clothes, get the right job, get married, live in the right neigbourhood, have 2.5 kids, stick around boring parties! This engagement ring? Why, it is nothing but a well-played DeBeers marketing campaign! Honeymoon? Isn't it another trick by airline companies and travel agents? We are just puppets of capitalism! I just want to be free, free from the burdens of society!" she raged on and then threw the ring at Carl and raced up the long flight of stairs.
She threw a few change of clothes into her leather suitcase and ran out of the house with the white picket fence.
She didnt look back, not even once. Her steps were determined as they brought her frantically to an abandoned cabin by the lake.
She stood there by the lake, took a deep breath and started counting.
One, two, three, four, five....
Tears gathered in her eyes.
She looked up at the skies and then, smiled.

forever scares me still. I wonder what if the choices we make stay with us forever? and I do not mean just this lifetime. What if we live forever, as our faith says we would? Will we still make the same choices? will we even dare to make any decisions, I wonder?
What if the career path I choose now, goes on forever, and I no longer have the ability to change the course once this lifetime ends, and the next begins? What if the life partner we choose now is bind to us truly forever, and not just for this lifetime, would we still choose him/her?  Would we be less hasty in our life choices if we could see forever?

sadness seeps into my bones
in the distance i hear the church bells toll
into eternity you walk,
While I am left standing,
waiting,
in the darkness.

My lips are forever sealed,
the truth i am forbade to tell.
Peace eludes me,
And in that chaos, the battle is lost.
We bled and there is no victor.