Awesomely Distracted

In short, I was awesomely distracted. Well that happens when you join the rush of sports and performing arts within 12 hours - I could barely climb stairs, let alone hold a proper conversation. But God, how I've forgotten the joy of running and stepping in rhythm! It'll be perfect if it's a round of basketball, but this works, too. All the frustration, the excess thoughts... grounded like a lightning. (Well that contributes greatly to my inability to even register any form of stress that should've been there but oh well)

And I'll repair my poorly abused shoes tomorrow. I would've mourned in normal condition, but this fatigue-laced ecstasy is nowhere near normal.

:D

A solemn invitation

Question marks and any other marks.. all the way. The speck of honesty is welcomed. The bitterness is swallowed like a shot of espresso. The feedbacks is being processed accordingly. The loss of a precious bond of trust is deeply mourned.

No more. No more settling such things by the ones and the zeros. The hearts and minds of humankind hold much more mystery than that and they are to be respected properly. The use of art and text as means of communication is indeed an alternative, but like any other language, a loss in translation is probable. If you're ever willing and available for a direct, primitive and no brainer talk, I'll be here with a pot of tea.

My unimportant emotions aside, I personally think this is quite overdue anyway.


PS: This is also for you, my faraway friend that I hope will never read this log. This time, I'll face it and resolve it properly. 

"You drink what’s poured for you, no matter how bitter. That's one of my rules."

10 years ago

What's the difference? Get too close and you'll get burnt. I should've known.

I'm so sorry.

Nightea

Uni life. It's surreal - what can I say? Floating about a new place, day in and day out, doing things that I never really imagined myself doing (sketching a nude model for three hours straight being one thing). And the routines. Oh, the routines. Coming home to an empty room, a humble place that I call my chamber in a castle, doing the cleaning and the laundry and conjuring up makeshift tea breaks. Not to mention that the universe has its own way of separating me from familiar faces. Well, to be fair, that's how a journey is - dynamic. I guess.

Again, how did you do it?