First we run, and then we laugh til we cry

This entry is dedicated to SAMANTHA LEE.

For the telepathy across the channels.

For the lack of action on the battlefields.

For the ego-boosting starbucks conversations that thickens with our skin.

For the unwillingness to compete with THE OTHERS.

For the joys of fat jeans and loser hoodies.

The ultimate contradiction: Winning losers.

And I don't care. Because I like us better :)



When I read my previous blogs, I cringe from the beginning to the end.
Childish. Whiny. Angsty.
If I could write beautifully and capture my "pain" (note the inverted commas) eloquently with words, then it would be a different matter. But the truth is I just cannot write that way, and if I tried I'd sound pretentious and will still cringe anyway.

Everyone seems to have a blogging style of their own. Char makes me marvel at the scenes she paints with her words. Sam makes me scream with laughter with her comedies.
Me? I guess it's time to figure it out.



I keep thinking about 2 feel-good dreams I've had in the past 2 weeks. Ever had dreams where you're with someone and everything just melts away? Maybe you don't even know who he is, maybe you won't ever know, but it doesn't matter.
Because all you wonder about is how perfectly your head fits against his neck.
Because all you feel is his arms around you, enveloping you into the most comforting embrace.
Because all you sense is the nearness of him.

Is it supposed to feel this good?

Well, what does it matter. All it takes is the freaking alarm clock on my handphone to dissolve everything and tear me away from this false sense of security. Disney isn't the only thing that makes me build unrealistic expectations.

But nothing wrong with being hopeful, right?


You tire me out, don't want to let that happen
A secret scream so loud, why did you let that happen?

So put your arms around me
You let me believe that you were someone else

Cos only time can take you
So let me believe that I am someone else