HAPPY BIRTHDAY RUTH BOEY YONGXI!! Y
My dearest Miss Harriet, on this ultra spesh day of yours, I just wanna tell you that I couldn't have asked for a better neighbour, a better churchmate and most of all a better friend.
Thanks for everything you've been to me in these (relatively) short months that I've known you and I really, honestly cannot imagine life in Brisbane without you.
For all our shrieks of laughter, pensive heart to hearts and choo-choo-train conversations, dinners, walks home, the way you always seem to empathise and understand every other little thing, I just want to say a GREAT, BIG, HUMONGOUS, DELICIOUS, THANK YOU and also, MERRY HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
Love you!
-
It's been an exhaustingly looooooooong day today and I don't believe I've ever maximised the use of my daily bus ticket before.
A long story for another day where my brain can actually piece parts of a story together in a somewhat lucid and coherent manner.
It was also Ruth's birthday dinner tonight at Cafe21 at the casino and so, thanks Ruth for the very lovely dinner and dessert :)
Again, that's another event to be told when the brain can function properly and also when I've successfully leached all the photos off other people.
At Contracts lecture today, while I was happily plugged into Angie's ipod, it dawned upon me how certain songs trigger off an emotion as dejavu envelops us.
Like an embedded memory touching the tip of the surface, and in that short span of time, we suspend like drifting molecules, slipping into a slide of a memory, like a photograph in shades of yellow and sepia.
It's not so much like a story where we remember an event strung together by pivotal details and chronology, but more of a moment; a moment of colour and noise hazed over by memory's fuzz.
But despite the faded lines, at that particular song playing on her ipod, I could feel the former emotions building up inside as I struggled to identify them and put a feeling to a moment.
And slowly it came where I remembered a night I was sitting in my room in Singapore facing my laptop with that song on repeat as it droned low and mellow in my head.
It was one of those nights where you feel low and blue, where words knot themselves into an indecipherable coil and the song sings exactly what you cannot say.
For some odd reason, I could remember the exact smell of that particular night; it wasn't just the smell of my room, but also the smell of new clothes I'd bought to uselessly impress, the smell of a humid night where I struggled with myself and the faint aroma of food.
As the pieces slowly fitted together, I saw myself at that very minute: a girl sitting in front of her computer with her arms hugging her legs and head to her knees; I remember the smells, I remember the song and most of all, I remember the feeling.
And as I sat in that lecture theatre with the all too familiar but almost forgotten feeling welling up inside, for that moment, I didn't know what to do, to laugh or cry, to continue the memory or to brush it away.
And I don't know why I feel compelled to write all this down.
Maybe I'm afraid if I don't it'll choke me inside.
And maybe I'm afraid to forget; because forgetting means when it rolls around again one day, you wouldn't know and wouldn't be ready for it.
And I would never, ever want to feel like how I did that day.
-
Anonymous: Thanks so much! You honestly have no idea how much that comment means to me :)
My dearest Miss Harriet, on this ultra spesh day of yours, I just wanna tell you that I couldn't have asked for a better neighbour, a better churchmate and most of all a better friend.
Thanks for everything you've been to me in these (relatively) short months that I've known you and I really, honestly cannot imagine life in Brisbane without you.
For all our shrieks of laughter, pensive heart to hearts and choo-choo-train conversations, dinners, walks home, the way you always seem to empathise and understand every other little thing, I just want to say a GREAT, BIG, HUMONGOUS, DELICIOUS, THANK YOU and also, MERRY HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
Love you!
-
It's been an exhaustingly looooooooong day today and I don't believe I've ever maximised the use of my daily bus ticket before.
A long story for another day where my brain can actually piece parts of a story together in a somewhat lucid and coherent manner.
It was also Ruth's birthday dinner tonight at Cafe21 at the casino and so, thanks Ruth for the very lovely dinner and dessert :)
Again, that's another event to be told when the brain can function properly and also when I've successfully leached all the photos off other people.
At Contracts lecture today, while I was happily plugged into Angie's ipod, it dawned upon me how certain songs trigger off an emotion as dejavu envelops us.
Like an embedded memory touching the tip of the surface, and in that short span of time, we suspend like drifting molecules, slipping into a slide of a memory, like a photograph in shades of yellow and sepia.
It's not so much like a story where we remember an event strung together by pivotal details and chronology, but more of a moment; a moment of colour and noise hazed over by memory's fuzz.
But despite the faded lines, at that particular song playing on her ipod, I could feel the former emotions building up inside as I struggled to identify them and put a feeling to a moment.
And slowly it came where I remembered a night I was sitting in my room in Singapore facing my laptop with that song on repeat as it droned low and mellow in my head.
It was one of those nights where you feel low and blue, where words knot themselves into an indecipherable coil and the song sings exactly what you cannot say.
For some odd reason, I could remember the exact smell of that particular night; it wasn't just the smell of my room, but also the smell of new clothes I'd bought to uselessly impress, the smell of a humid night where I struggled with myself and the faint aroma of food.
As the pieces slowly fitted together, I saw myself at that very minute: a girl sitting in front of her computer with her arms hugging her legs and head to her knees; I remember the smells, I remember the song and most of all, I remember the feeling.
And as I sat in that lecture theatre with the all too familiar but almost forgotten feeling welling up inside, for that moment, I didn't know what to do, to laugh or cry, to continue the memory or to brush it away.
And I don't know why I feel compelled to write all this down.
Maybe I'm afraid if I don't it'll choke me inside.
And maybe I'm afraid to forget; because forgetting means when it rolls around again one day, you wouldn't know and wouldn't be ready for it.
And I would never, ever want to feel like how I did that day.
-
Anonymous: Thanks so much! You honestly have no idea how much that comment means to me :)
Clara: Oh hello! I asked Angie if she knew who you were and she said she did. Ha ha, nice to meet you! Or erm.. 'meet' you more like but thanks for commenting :)
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