Monday, June 16, 2003.

Ever since i was twelve, i knew that June 16 was a special day for me. i don't know why but it was just one of those days that seemed to be at the centre of everything, to hold that unspeakable, universal truth, to reveal the true meaning of life. When i was young enough, i even nurtured the thought that perhaps it would be the day of my wedding, or a future child's birthday. But now, i realize that maybe it's sole purpose is to allow me to experience emotional sensations at their peak, then feel nothing but the decline (until another 365 days have elapsed). The reason is simple - i am running away again, running away from the comfort of my beloved home to an unknown territory. A few days ago (or was it only yesterday?), i questionned myself, What is a sanctuary? Where is the comfort of freely expressing myself if i speak in fear of being seen through like glass by those who i am hiding from? What is the use of wearing a poker face if my cards are exposed anyways? And so, rather than retreating to my so-called sanctuary, i have chosen to come here. It's still rather uncomfortable right now, but i'll spend the remaining months in isolation until i have fully healed. Then, i'll return. i hate how i always feel the need to live in self-imposed exile when i've been hurt, but i guess that's just the way it is. And it still fking hurts. A lot. 7:14 pm

Saturday, March 8, 2003.

A gust of wind blows through the crack in the window each night, the invisible hand sweeping across my vertical blinds, making them dance to a silent rhythm. Jordan said this was fate. i wondered, "Every single day, we meet people, be they acquaintance or stranger - isn't that determined by fate, too?" To this, he replied, "No, that's just coincidence." For me, fate is when two paths cross. Some things are destined to occur, but given certain circumstances, it lies in the ability of one to make the most out of it. Hence, some say that fate is predestined, while others believe that it lies in our hands. And fate ends when you come to the fork in the road. This is where one asks, "Is the choice really up to me?" i suppose one could always choose the other path, but why follow another's path when you ought to follow your own? i am going through the motions. i eat. i sleep. i work. i procrastinate. i hang out with friends. i play badminton. i go clubbing. i bake. But each night, i'd look out the window and wish for more. A wish that would never come true. 4:51 pm

Monday, February 3, 2003.

Ti o o, bay lo o... ti o o, o o... Mei said that in Taiwanese, it means "The sky is getting dark, it's going to rain." It's actually a traditional Taiwanese song that she's heard of since she was a little girl, but that tune was also part of one of Yanzi's oldest and most beautiful songs, called "Tien hei hei". The Mandarin words "tien hei hei", literally translated as "sky black black", has the same written form and meaning as its Taiwanese counterpart, "ti o o". The sky was so gloomy today after we left act sci class that we spent the afternoon singing a song about a girl who had her heart broken and was remembering the song her grandmother used to sing to her to cheer her up whenever she was sad. i don't know why i was so excited about it last night, and i don't know why it was on my mind all day today, but maybe it was only because i needed to fill that void more than i dared to admit to myself. Because at the end of the day, all i remember was seeing three leaves drifting slowly, afloat on a clear wind and suspended by time. Another one of life's fleeting moments. 8:30 pm

Saturday, January 25, 2003.

The truth was that i was just confused about how i felt. And all i knew was that i wanted a balance in my life. It started out so perfectly, everything fell into place so effortlessly, and it was only the first week. Then things fell apart. Those dreams that were within arms reach a short fortnight ago vanished as quickly as they came, and i was left to wonder what went wrong. And yes, that is what i'm going through right now - the aftermath of one perfect Friday, not so long ago. 12:18 am

Tuesday, December 31, 2002.

Sometimes, i really don't understand how i could be so cynical. i guess it had a bit to do with Mom's constant reminder that nothing lasts forever, that we all come into and leave this world alone. Or maybe it's because, as i grow older, i have come to realize the truth in her words through the actions of others... But i'm glad that Mil and Lightbulb have once again proved me wrong. Some say that change is a good thing, while others tell us to make the best out of it because it is beyond our ability to alter unfavourable circumstances. It's good to know that, despite how we've changed, my best friends in the world are still true to me. ... The words my sister and i exchanged several days ago still linger in my head... Me - i was thinking... home isn't really any different with or without me. Mui - How would you know what home is like without you when you weren't even there? Why does it feel like i'm still running away from my problems? Why do i still feel like a lost child? 5:44 pm

Saturday, December 28, 2002.

So accustomed was i to bright light penetrating my closed lids in my slumber during these past four months that lying in the darkness of my own room became the most unnatural thing to do. Phantoms grew in dark doorways and goblins lurked in the corners while the faces of monsters formed in the intricate patterns of the draperies, all threatening me with something worse than death itself. Needless to say, going downstairs to the kitchen alone to get a sip of water was out of the question, and i found myself running to my parents' room to look for Mom (who, to my utter disappointment, was fast asleep). Dad was thoroughly amused; i have been living in this house since i was ten, and never, in these past ten years, have i ever had this problem before. Just last summer, i used to sneak down to the den in the middle of the night to talk to the ex on icq. Maybe sitting alone in the dark didn't seem as dreadful back then because i knew that there was another human life form on the other end of cyberspace. Or perhaps i'm not a big fan of orcs, and i had just watched lotr2 today. On a completely different note, this is what i overheard Mom saying in the afternoon: "If those chest pains are really a sign of breast cancer, then she should be able to feel the tumour inside, right?" Which is worse - to have a heart condition and provide the world with more than sufficient proof that one is a glutton, or to be diagnosed with breast cancer and run around with a breast missing? 3:14 am

Thursday, December 26, 2002.

i call on monotonous music to bring inspiration, but it is useless; my supply of words have run dry. How can i write without feeling the need to impress, without being overcome with shame should my hand grow too clumsy to control the pen? Sitting cross-legged on my own bed in my own room wearing nothing but pjs, the big toe on my left foot finds the strap to my mini knapsack-purse. The fingernail belonging to the middle finger on my right hand wedges itself between my upper and lower front teeth while my plush teddy rests on my lap as if to read what i had written amidst the scribbled mess. Silence, save for the sound of the running faucet growing stronger than ever. And Coldplay's tunes flowing softly in the background. 12:25 am