life's mean reds.

i am officially annoyed at how long it's taking me to change the layout of my blog. so annoyed that im almost tempted to search for my old blog template and restore it to its good old times. i am increasingly amazed and dismayed at my tendency to not carry through what i had originally planned to. --time for change! (though let's just leave the blog in construction till another day.:P)

it's strange how you know the holidays are here when most of your friends start disappearing. perhaps having had the burden of meeting datelines removed, it's that sudden increase in spare time that makes that wistfulness well up in you even more.

blogging seems almost foreign to me now. the past few months were far from being uneventful, rather the most exciting ones i would say since i first arrived in sydney. yet sometimes in life, just like how those events itself were fleeting, so were those emotions and moments when you felt as though you were bursting to share to the world with were too. there were times guilt gripped me; a side of me rebuking my lack of initiative which often ended with a vague resolve to "drop an line sometime about that thing that happened then", which led to nothingness, more often than not. and soon, the significance of the past dims; the present, the moment, is all that matters. it shouldnt. but it does.

i really only love God as much as i love the person i love the least. --Dorothy Day

cruel to be kind - letters to cleo one of those songs that still dont make sense to me even though i read the lyrics a million times over. but i love it nonetheless, perhaps because of the smile that creeps onto my face everytime i think of the sweet scene between patrick verona and kat stratford in 10 things i hate about you . there's just something about romantic shows that always seem to get me, no matter how cheesy these moments might seem on hindsight.

有好多想说的。但也有很多顾忌。 要在那俩中挣扎的个感觉，一点也不快。

i used to look upon the abstractness of art with frustration, till i came across this quote in my readings today:) "art is not difficult because it wishes to be difficult, rather because it wishes to be art .. [the artist] discovers that in being simple, honest, straight-forward, nothing much happens."