ok set i’m going to cut my hair.

you can run but you cannot hide.

do drop me an sms if you were the one who searched for ‘es/ther li/m s/i ji/e’ twice on some search engine! don’t play play with wordpress haha. i know this sounds very self-absorbed and narcissistic and all, but really knowing that someone had gone through more than 100 past entries (that’s like a whole year!!) in one sitting is quite scary. oh please save me the worry that my parents found this space. and let’s go out for a drink so you can in turn fill me in about what’s been going on with you since i last saw you. unless i like see you every week then i’ll see you when i see you. :)

而夏天还是那么短
思念却很长

我们都一样
（孙燕资）

3 hours holds special meaning today.

3 hours. the approximate length of sleep Jane and I had to do without because we tumbled out of beds while the sky was still dark to meet Dennis, Eugene and Sunny for a walk. 

3 hours. the maximum my poor knees can take of walking up and down slopes with high |gradient|. note the absolute sign! haha i think it’s quite dumb how using mathematical symbols gets me so excited. cheap thrill. anyway back to my knees, groaan what is wrong with them? they didn’t hurt a bit in Cambodia (except for the 6h bus rides), so I thought they were a-ok already. next week’s sport is swimming.

and 3 hours proved to be a little too short for time spent with my stalker (stalkee) whom i hardly see even though we study in the same school. we took a whole 30 minutes to decide where to eat! then we basically roamed around suan-ing each other. gosh, why do we do such things? hahah here’s to the only person who knows the reason i cried. (even though it took her half a year for me to admit it haha. see i wrote it here so no more blackmailing) cheers to yy, for being one of the few people whom i can spent 3 hours with without feeling like i have to be more/less than I am. & a solemn toast to Cafe Cartel’s fantastic ribs. photos will arrive, when they do.

what a day. now all i need to do is get through my nightly routine, and crash onto my bed, hoping my knees will recover for another long day tomorrow.

Days of the Week
Piotr Sommer

Tomorrow is Thursday.
If the world meets its obligation,
the following day will be Friday.
If it doesn’t, it could even be Sunday,
and no one will ever guess where our life got mislaid.

…

time is man-made. who decided that a new day must start at midnight? i wonder why he/she chose a time when the sky is still dark, when there was no obvious difference between the day before and the day to come? if we didn’t know about the earth revolving around the sun, would the concept of years exist. if the concept of years did not exist, i doubt i’ll realise i’m 2 decades old. (to gauge my age, i guess i would compare my height with people around me and come to the conclusion that i’m 12? haha)

the phrase ‘when i grow up, i want to..’ appear in my conversations often . but i’m beginning to see how absurd this statement is. I’ve grown enough already!!

jh and i had a conversation about how time flies, and he said that time flies when we’re not aware of it. of course, definitely. the thing is, i’m painfully aware. i’m so afraid of the horror stories of lying at my deathbed and regretting the life I lived, so I make myself aware that I might cherish the right things and live properly. i’m so aware, yet time still zooms.

time flies when we’re not aware of it, but awareness doesn’t slow it down. it’s times like these when i really really want to live properly, and do things that matter. truth is, i’m dying (and i say this with the most optimism i can muster).

i was just looking at Mr Tang’s facebook photos. there were a couple where he was sitting on a dunking machine, holding a piece of white paper which reads ‘I’m Falling Asleep’. and in the next photo, another paper reads ‘my grandmother can do better than that’. hahaha

it really brings back vague memories of a prank we tried to play on him in some classroom which failed (i think), and in response to the whole mumbojumbo, he said, ‘my armpit hair is laughing’. to which, i remember retorting with a very forceful EWWWW. hahaha.

out of the decade i spent in PL, sec 2 was undeniably the best year. and i would say that my funny laughing armpit hair teacher contributed a fair bit to that conclusion. (i learnt the soccer jargon ‘offside’ and what it means from him!) cheers sir. :D

Continued
Piotr Sommer

Nothing will be the same as it was,
even enjoying the same things
won’t be the same. Our sorrows
will differ one from the other and we
will differ one from the other in our worries.

And nothing will be the same as it was,
nothing at all. Simple thoughts will sound
different, newer, since they’ll be more simply, more newly
spoken. The heart will know how to open up and love
won’t be love anymore. Everything will change.

Nothing will be the same as it was
and that too will be new somehow, since after all,
before, things could be similar: morning,
the rest of the day, evening and night, but not now

…

wow what a stunner. this beats the clumsy analogy of salt handsdown.

everyday is packed. yet none are filled. i’ve got a question about reliance, an issue about spontaniety vs force and a deep weariness for words on repeat. like a teacher who’s no longer respected by pupils. she shouts for silence repeatedly yet none listen.