To my dearest Charmaine

Dear Charmaine,

May my past just be a faded memory for it is the present and future that is important

For what was and what had been before you came into my life no longer exists to me. 

I am truly sorry for all the jealousy and annoyance that you felt whilst reading through this blog; if we swapped scenarios I would have felt terrible reading your blog too so I really can understand. But like you said, the past doesn't matter anymore. You're my princess now and that's all that matters.

As a gesture to show you how sincere I am in my apology I have striked out every single thing I wrote about her and I do hope that makes u feel better (though I am sure you alrdy do feel better by now hahaha).

I love you Charmaine <3 div="">

Not a day goes by without me thinking about you,
Where the day starts not by the sun rise but by your lovely morning greetings
And ends with a "goodnight sweetdreams"

To be together forever I pray

And to cherish and love you I will 

(And the midnight moon drifted across the hemispherical sky...)

I'm back because I realise that there is no better place then a dead blog to write out all that I have kept inside me. Facebook doesn't cut it because of the publicity. Twitter either.

I do not know how to say this. Is it deep rooted love? Or just my stubborness. I really do believe its the former. After convincing myself so many a times it just goes one big round and now I'm back here again.

I'm not complaining. I like it actually. I guess this way, at least those wonderful memories will be here to stay.


{That day}

You mentioned that the next time, I can make the lantern for my girlfriend. Your casual words ran over me. You didnt notice, and perhaps time really did not drag that long, but I looked at you and thought about the words that just wanted to escape from my heart so badly.


The only person I'd ever want to make them for is you... But I suppressed that urge to scream out those words...

Raising the Dead

Its a rebirth. After years of neglect, I'm finally back here on this ol' site that was my avenue for spilling out all my feelings. And of course, I'm back with changes.

Well, I'm now in JC and things have gotten a whole lot more complicated.

Affairs of the heart that is.

AHHHH FUCK THIS. FUCK EVERYTHING. I HATE MY LIFE. I HATE EMOTIONS

I'll just make that same wish every night.

A wish that one day I could just be by your side, doing everything together and enjoying life together.
I always had this hope that one day we could go and settle by the beachside and watch the sun set into the horizon. . .

Its a weird thing actually. Sometimes, you are so desperate for the truth, yet you don't wish to inquire because you are afraid of it.

Am I just being the over-sensitive person I am? Her replies are sometimes jovial and full of life, making the conversation so lifely, but at other times, they are so dead, its like a silent accusation, making you question yourself if you had done something wrong.

I guess this is what you would call lethal attraction. Loving a person so much it hurts.

Then , if you realise, there is only a faint line between love and hate. God, it sounds cliche, but its true. I mean, the person who coined this phrase had to derive it from somewhere, no?

Experience will tell you that, when you truly love someone, the feeling will not go away that easily, no matter how hard you tried. The affairs of the heart are not something that we can vouluntarily control.

He boarded the bus, feeling indeed a little awkward. He shuffled his feet as he made his way to the end of the bus. Taking a deep breath, he sat down on the chair which is two rows from the front.

What should I say? What should I do? Damn, I hate being so shy, he told himself.

Slowly, they started to converse. It was full of awkward pauses, but nevertheless, there was a conversation. Or at least he thought there was, for his definition of a conversation was of an ambiguous clarity. To him, just the slightest smile from her would equal to the exchange of a hundred, no a thousand words.

They alighted the bus, said their goodbyes and parted ways. How long had it been? 5 minutes? But he felt like time had stood still for him. He felt disgusted by his own thought. Cliche. He didnt like cliches, but sometimes cliches are right, and that was exactly how he felt when he was beside her. Just another memory to add on to his scrapbook.