life's mean reds.

im really going to miss home.

Where Else Have We to Go - Nicky Chiswell

it's not how much love you have in the beginning, it's how much love you build to the end:)

even though i know how silly lily (in how i met your mother--awesome show btw:))sounded, i've got to admit, despite being bound by the practicalities of realism, that's how my life with its many inexplicable, works too at times. Lily: There are certain things in life where you know it's a mistake but you don't really know it's a mistake because the only way to know that it really is a mistake is to make that mistake and go, "Yup, that was a mistake". So really, the bigger mistake would be to not make the mistake because then you'll go about your whole life not knowing whether it was a mistake or not.

eight more days. wow.

say im such an oldie but i caught one of those films that i'd always wanted to today. and it was awesome:) well. im surprised at my own verdict of the show, because really, it's a pretty silly show on many counts. both leads' personalities were not fleshed out significantly through the show and some scenes were well, at best, unrealistic. take this conversation for example (sorry i just have to get this off my chest>. Holly Golightly: Well, when I get it(the mean reds) the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. and in my heart, the first thing i thought of was a robbery. hah. okay, too much hk dramas.but you get my point. despite this, i realised for all its blatant silliness, the show was really more than what it might have seemed at first glance. in a sense, it made me want to believe in love again. it showed, even without b...

i feel old and dull saying this, but ive taken to playing "bubble breaker" on my phone a lot these days.it's this pretty silly game where u try to get as many bubbles of the same colour together and burst them. or it can be intellectual, however u see it. whatever it is, it's been something i subconsciously engage myself in, be it a long bus ride, or when i lie in my bed before i fall asleep. not that i particularly adore this game though. it's just that whenever i poke randomly at these bubbles, it's almost as though i were in one of those myself.as though something in that silence kept me from being in the real world. something which kept my mind off otherwise frivolous but mind sapping thoughts. not that it's particularly filled with anything while playing it though >. a way that wont leave me tired from all those thoughts that race through my mind. a way that is safer than when i allow my mind and heart to wander to grounds im all too familiar with....

He Knows My Name-Paul Baloche I have a Maker He formed my heart Before even time began My life was in his hands I have a Father He calls me His own He'll never leave me No matter where I go He knows my name He knows my every thought He sees each tear that falls And He hears me when I call if there must be true love, this is it. not a love that seeks helplessly for the attention or approval of the other party. not a love that skeptics claim are for all but the strong. no, it's a love for the courageous; it's a love for those who realise that love, true love, can only be this great when they dare face their weaknesses.

im no sadist but there are times i have to admit that i understand how people find pleasure in pain. be it exfoliating facial washes (ha) that i am strangely drawn to, or the dull ache in my legs after what might thus seem like a fruitful exercise, pain,or any sense of physical discomfort, has subconsciously become my measure for fulfilling a particular task. it is as though that sensation added that extra dimension to shift something from the imagined realm to the reality. my face isnt really clean unless i allowed those sea salt beads sandpaper my pimples away(or so i was convinced to believe) and i hadnt really exercised unless my feet can move no longer. then i realised, on the bus home one day, that such reasoning, however irrational, was not merely confined to the more frivolous aspects in my life. perhaps, because of this, i find myself unwittingly convincing myself that if unless my heart hurt, i haven't truely loved anyone enough. it's almost silly, bordering even on c...