Paths

It's funny how as we grow up we all diverge on our own separate ways. Kinda like...sprouts from the same root. Back when, I thought I knew who I was already, but I guess we all find new paths to walk down upon, new hobbies, new friends, new experiences.

I'll miss this current road I'm on for sure.

We all carry baggage, and sometimes when you meet someone for the first time, you'd wish they'd stay that way. New. So you wouldn't need to see the things that you don't really like.

I sit here on a blazingly hot day. aka malaysia style hot! Just...watching the time tick. I'm completely suspended, neither willing to drive myself forward by sheer will and force of motivation, too scared to. Neither am I motivated by the potential failure that will face me if I give up on this last stretch. There's no turning back, that was never an option even though we all wish it was.

Lasts. Last day of year 11. Last day of year 13. Last day driving away from KLASS. Then it became firsts. First day of lecture. First day of being alone in Markley. First day being alone. Truly. First meetings, chance encounters.

We always have to say goodbye, we always get the chance to say hello. I'm trying to not see it like this, because as much as it hurts now we get over it. We do. That's life.

Tangled

Tangle me up so that the clock might stop ticking.
Tangle me up so I never have to extricate myself.
Tangle me up like the brambles do with roses knotted.
Tangle me up like the matter of the brain.
Tangle me up like thoughts intertwined.
Tangle me up like silences unspoken.
Tangle me up like memories bleeding into one another.
Tangle me up like strained shoulders after a solid workout.
Tangle me up, tongue tied and twisted.
Tangle me up so I can feel again.

谁知女人心.

I hate how I'm already so tangled.

Of unicycles and perfect days

Amazing highlight of the last month of my senior year. Attempting to ride a unicycle and getting on someone's back who in turn was riding that unicycle.

Tango has been such a turning point for this year. From beginning awkwardness to intermediate confidence, the dance has spread its infectious joy to almost every aspect of my life.

6-3, 3-6, 6-1. Perfect tennis early morning wakeup and amazing strokes. I forget how I love that sport, especially in the dead of winter when there's no playing to be done.

Twelve Angry Men at 7pm and Milonga at 10pm. I love this weekend! Sitting on the swings under a bright blue sky, there wasn't a care in the world.

The little things

2 feet in, 1 foot back.

And the car in front of the apt. would probably have saved $25.

Noticing that I was parked in a handicap spot and moving the car back home.

$100

Eeps.

It really is the little things that count. The post on the Sartorialist about how women notice the little things, and how small gestures mean so much more than loud showy ones is extremely true. It's easy to go out and buy the most expensive diamond in the world, but what does that reflect on? Materialism? The fact that you have money and are willing to spend it on trivial things?

I'm not saying that we don't like to be woo-ed with flowers and champagne, but at the end of the day what really matters is what happens between two people. When the truth and the little things outweigh any flashy substances that are bought with paper.

I surrender to you with absolute certainty. You are my balance.

There are no regrets. Only immersion. How much do you trust, how much can you trust? We always hold back, always afraid of things going wrong, of being hurt. But sometimes you find the point where you're so comfortable you don't mind being that open anymore. At least for a while.

GMAT score out. 6/6 writing and 690. Good, but good enough? We shall see.

Kuharap mentari pagi, tak menyambutku
Kuharap sinar rembulan, tutup mataku... selamanya
Sejak kau pergi, tinggalkan bumi, tinggalku di sini

Turunkan matahari
Usir bintang-bintang
Putarkan utara ke selatan
untuk apa lagi semuanya

Ambillah jiwa retak ini, ku tak ingin lagi
Putuskan ari-ari bumi, aku ingin pergi
menuju abadi...selamanya 

Pitter Patter

Soft breezes. Rolling growls. Lightning flashes. Cooling wind. Fluttering curtains. Whirring fans. Grey skies. At 4. Cancelled tennis. Traffic jams. Terrific downpours. Lightning sirens. Shot internet. Unplugged wires. Closed windows. Wires tripped. Candles lit. Pitter patter. Gushing drains. Bolster propped. Good read.

Home on a rainy day.

Bittersweet

I like my chocolate dark. Bittersweet. A balance between the contrasting flavours that hit and complement each other so well. Life is kinda like that right now, as the countdown looms ever closer I find myself less so desperate for it to not end, more so believing that endings make everything worth it.

Enough with living in memories, enough to pre-empting everything in life. For this short period of time I want to live, feel, breathe. I'm not going to say screw schoolwork because life is about balancing work and play and when I have too much time on my hands anyway I feel like such a bum. Not to mention there will be plenty of time to bum over summer since I don't have a job yet lined up.

Settle. For once.

Race

The last adrenaline rush when its needed most. The point of no return.

ARGH. Not as if this is do or die anyway. Right?