3am nights are perilous to my health and not just for the sole reason of clocking late hours.
It wreaks havoc in my head as I mindlessly surf the web and come across fancy schmancy lives which stirs the more whimsical part in me and I wish I resided in a more fancy schmancy place, lived a more fancy schmancy life and was everything pretty and glittered pictures made it all out to be.
It's also the time where I talk to my bestest friends whom I haven't seen in the longest time (and miss dearly) and start to bemoan the woes and trifles of life, recount funny stories, conjure up memories, be a living testimony for our supreme retardness and of course, cook up schemes like Project Butterfly (HA HA, in action come December!)
It's also the time where my stomach decides that all the silent reverie and multitude of thoughts has awakened the churning of its juices, and that's when I start hunting through the kitchen for food.
So last night, while idly clicking through stuff, I'd managed to demolish half a bag of potato chips, a bowl of chicken soup and the absolutely evil, sinful, fattening, ENTIRE MOONCAKE ...
It's also the time where I start talking to fellow late-nighters (like Grinning Gab) and have these long reminiscent heart to hearts and we sit and remember snippets of the past which slip through our head like loose pages.
So as I sat there last night, and we talked the night away about the golden days of our past and the way we laughed and cried, it was the time for funny smiles and torrential thoughts and emotions; and everything little inkling of a feeling I had bloomed out in full as Chantal Kreviazuk sang soft and wistful in the background.
And thinking and talking about those glorious days, it just reminds me so much of how happiness is such a relative, elusive thing.
That even though I can safely say I'm happy now, I don't believe I was ever as happy as I was two years ago.
That through the short almost 19 years of my life, the period of December 2004 running through January 2005, would undisputedly be the best and happiest time of my life.
It wasn't a fancy schmancy life, but it was truly my holiday snow-globe of a dream, of snow-white perfection, fairy lights and specks of magical glitter.
It wreaks havoc in my head as I mindlessly surf the web and come across fancy schmancy lives which stirs the more whimsical part in me and I wish I resided in a more fancy schmancy place, lived a more fancy schmancy life and was everything pretty and glittered pictures made it all out to be.
It's also the time where I talk to my bestest friends whom I haven't seen in the longest time (and miss dearly) and start to bemoan the woes and trifles of life, recount funny stories, conjure up memories, be a living testimony for our supreme retardness and of course, cook up schemes like Project Butterfly (HA HA, in action come December!)
It's also the time where my stomach decides that all the silent reverie and multitude of thoughts has awakened the churning of its juices, and that's when I start hunting through the kitchen for food.
So last night, while idly clicking through stuff, I'd managed to demolish half a bag of potato chips, a bowl of chicken soup and the absolutely evil, sinful, fattening, ENTIRE MOONCAKE ...
It's also the time where I start talking to fellow late-nighters (like Grinning Gab) and have these long reminiscent heart to hearts and we sit and remember snippets of the past which slip through our head like loose pages.
So as I sat there last night, and we talked the night away about the golden days of our past and the way we laughed and cried, it was the time for funny smiles and torrential thoughts and emotions; and everything little inkling of a feeling I had bloomed out in full as Chantal Kreviazuk sang soft and wistful in the background.
And thinking and talking about those glorious days, it just reminds me so much of how happiness is such a relative, elusive thing.
That even though I can safely say I'm happy now, I don't believe I was ever as happy as I was two years ago.
That through the short almost 19 years of my life, the period of December 2004 running through January 2005, would undisputedly be the best and happiest time of my life.
It wasn't a fancy schmancy life, but it was truly my holiday snow-globe of a dream, of snow-white perfection, fairy lights and specks of magical glitter.
A window breaks, down a long, dark street
And a siren wails in the night
But I'm alright, 'cause I have you here with me
And I can almost see, through the dark there is light
Well, if you knew how much this moment means to me
And how long I've waited for your touch
And if you knew how happy you are making me
I never thought that I'd love anyone so much
It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me
It feels like I'm all the way the back where I come from
It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me
It feels like I'm all the way back where I belong
It feels like I'm all the way back where I belong
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