Science & Faith

Tonight marks a brand new start to the rest of my life.

--
Everything dissipated into nothingness. I don't even want answers and to know why.
It was fun while it lasted I was naive and ignorant.

Fix you

I miss writing. I miss writing regularly, feeling how amazingly therapeutic it can be.

I was in the company of a very dear friend some days ago. We were talking about the future fraught with uncertainties, and inevitably, started to travel back in time, and talked about our pasts.

I guess it never leaves us behind, our past.

As much anger I have for myself, I am equally angry at the beast who stole it all away from me, and the trauma I was left with. Sometimes, I am so angry, I wish I could meet him a second time just to give him a cold tight slap against his wretched face. I wish I could slam the keyboard furiously and delete him from my life, my past. Time provides such clarity. I was terribly foolish, lost in the game of words, vulnerable to a situation I was not satisfied in. Fair enough, I wasn't already the happiest by that time, but none of that could possibly have made it better.

I see now the lack of remorse. Like my dear friend agreed - the epitome of what makes an asshole.

I was happy in my little bubble. And now, I'm just a mess, trying to fix myself, in order to fix the people I love around me. In order to not hurt the people I have hurt before. I need to fix me.

Silent thoughts

I know nobody comes here anymore. At least, nobody that personally knows me, and vice versa. I know, because that little box in the right column of this page tells me I am the only visitor from Singapore, and the rest are people from the States. Probably the random internet visitors that chanced upon this hidden forgotten blog, due to my old posts that were shared or listed by google searches.

Just individuals that breeze through the page without much impact or interaction, like strangers on the street, and in the cars wheezing past. They were there, but their existence were not quite felt.

It gives me the freedom to write without feeling as judged. Yet sometimes, you wish the subject of your posts - the people you'd been writing for - would chance upon the posts one day. But the likelihood of that is close to zero, and maybe it isn't a perfect idea either.

Perhaps this blog is going to be good for that. It'll be a perfect outlet for me to pretend you know and understand me because I'm always writing for you here, and you always read my thoughts...even though in reality you don't. You don't understand me, and in this growing distance, you will realise you never did.

Music

It's funny how the music I used to love, and used to bring me such joy, only serves to make me cry now - every single time.

Snow Patrol, I (used to) love you.