i had a nice day today.
and i want to post the pictures of us photo-whoring on wednesday night but quentin hasn't uploaded them yet so. . . the world will have to wait to see me in a dress. not that any of you actually want to see, you understand? i understand also.
i also wanted to go running just now, like back to law school to see the year 2 v year 4 soccer match but it started raining cats and dogs - i want a kitten. so i stayed at home and stood at the kitchen counter eating tuna and crackers with my grandmother.
public law lecture was - good. if that's the right word to use, haha. it wasn't arun - he was good la but it was really boring. no it was good because ruishan and i were blue-toothing each other. like writing notes to each other in chinese, taking photos of the notes and blue-toothing them to each other.
tris: what are you two silly girls doing?
i have our entire conversation in my phone, along with a picture of arun ruishan drew which i wish i could post but i can't because i don't have the cable to connect my phone to the computer.
i really don't think our chinese is improving.
oh well.
i was writing a note to a friend this morning, on a page i tore from this very pretty notebook i bought in sec one from barnes and noble in san francisco, when mg brought us there for the golden gate choral festival. i decided sometime in 2004 that i should use it as a sort of journal because it was too nice to go to waste - didn't work out, but i found something i wrote on the seventh of september that year, at six something a.m. and it's quite sad and emo and suits the rainy day so i shall share it with all of you, simply because i remember what eighteen was like. (i think the pages of the book are destined to become pretty letterpaper) i hope you do too.
and you say again that our meetings are bad, when it's at those instances i see your soul flash before me, that i feel my eyes well up with tears for no reason. when i remember all that you are and can be something in me aches. you're still worth it even now; as we grow older more and more people cease to matter. perhaps happy memories are better kept unspoiled.
yet i see you in all your rawness and need, know that you remember, and if things were different maybe we could "try again" - or perhaps a faint glimmer of promise will show, after all we've been through. i'd rather be with you through your silences than with the others and their carefree, inane laughter. i want to hold your hand, make you happy, tell you that everything will be okay - but is there any point, really - i haven't changed inside, i don't think both of us have. and you think so too.
you're still chloe, and i'm still *****, and we'll never forget. (sorry name withheld to protect the innocent. and that's me saying what he said, hence the "you're still chloe")
sometimes, now, i wish i'd taken our relationship even more seriously than i did, wish i'd realised the true meaning of love, friendship and companionship sooner - but perhaps we had to break up to realise all these hitherto unknowns. it's all part of growing up, one surmises, part of what will make us better people in time to come. i love you, you know? and i want to be here. but i don't know whether you want us anymore.
young, headstrong and invincible. i've never let go of that image of ourselves. you knew how serious our relationship was, and i thank you for showing me so. i only regret that i didn't treasure you as much i should have. and if only, now, i could make everything more bearable for you.
i hate to see you go.
i guess sometimes all we can do, really, is pray.
imagine my delight when i found that the setting to psalm 13 in the psalter was the first four bars of finlandia.
***
i think it's when you're able to look back at yourself and realise how unnecessary all that emotion was that you've truly arrived. when you know what you've just let go; you're free of baggage, and you're freely loving God. i don't quite think i've grown up yet, but i can look back at eighteen and quietly chuckle at how young i was, and naive, really. even though i didn't think so at that point. of course not. the arrogance of youth - we never thought we were naive at that age, did we?
and it's not a oh-it's-so-funny sort of chuckle. more like accepting the past and moving on, because there's so much to look forward to in the present and the future. of course you know. i never thought i'd share that passage above on such a public space but. . . it doesn't matter, somehow. it's like a part of me i'd like to share, simply because.
when is the rain going to stop, i want to run and burn off the cupcake of mine which i ate and the two pineapple tarts and get refreshed so i can go on doing my public law assignment tonight.
one kind of emo la. rcmi man.
and i want to post the pictures of us photo-whoring on wednesday night but quentin hasn't uploaded them yet so. . . the world will have to wait to see me in a dress. not that any of you actually want to see, you understand? i understand also.
i also wanted to go running just now, like back to law school to see the year 2 v year 4 soccer match but it started raining cats and dogs - i want a kitten. so i stayed at home and stood at the kitchen counter eating tuna and crackers with my grandmother.
public law lecture was - good. if that's the right word to use, haha. it wasn't arun - he was good la but it was really boring. no it was good because ruishan and i were blue-toothing each other. like writing notes to each other in chinese, taking photos of the notes and blue-toothing them to each other.
tris: what are you two silly girls doing?
i have our entire conversation in my phone, along with a picture of arun ruishan drew which i wish i could post but i can't because i don't have the cable to connect my phone to the computer.
i really don't think our chinese is improving.
oh well.
i was writing a note to a friend this morning, on a page i tore from this very pretty notebook i bought in sec one from barnes and noble in san francisco, when mg brought us there for the golden gate choral festival. i decided sometime in 2004 that i should use it as a sort of journal because it was too nice to go to waste - didn't work out, but i found something i wrote on the seventh of september that year, at six something a.m. and it's quite sad and emo and suits the rainy day so i shall share it with all of you, simply because i remember what eighteen was like. (i think the pages of the book are destined to become pretty letterpaper) i hope you do too.
and you say again that our meetings are bad, when it's at those instances i see your soul flash before me, that i feel my eyes well up with tears for no reason. when i remember all that you are and can be something in me aches. you're still worth it even now; as we grow older more and more people cease to matter. perhaps happy memories are better kept unspoiled.
yet i see you in all your rawness and need, know that you remember, and if things were different maybe we could "try again" - or perhaps a faint glimmer of promise will show, after all we've been through. i'd rather be with you through your silences than with the others and their carefree, inane laughter. i want to hold your hand, make you happy, tell you that everything will be okay - but is there any point, really - i haven't changed inside, i don't think both of us have. and you think so too.
you're still chloe, and i'm still *****, and we'll never forget. (sorry name withheld to protect the innocent. and that's me saying what he said, hence the "you're still chloe")
sometimes, now, i wish i'd taken our relationship even more seriously than i did, wish i'd realised the true meaning of love, friendship and companionship sooner - but perhaps we had to break up to realise all these hitherto unknowns. it's all part of growing up, one surmises, part of what will make us better people in time to come. i love you, you know? and i want to be here. but i don't know whether you want us anymore.
young, headstrong and invincible. i've never let go of that image of ourselves. you knew how serious our relationship was, and i thank you for showing me so. i only regret that i didn't treasure you as much i should have. and if only, now, i could make everything more bearable for you.
i hate to see you go.
i guess sometimes all we can do, really, is pray.
imagine my delight when i found that the setting to psalm 13 in the psalter was the first four bars of finlandia.
***
i think it's when you're able to look back at yourself and realise how unnecessary all that emotion was that you've truly arrived. when you know what you've just let go; you're free of baggage, and you're freely loving God. i don't quite think i've grown up yet, but i can look back at eighteen and quietly chuckle at how young i was, and naive, really. even though i didn't think so at that point. of course not. the arrogance of youth - we never thought we were naive at that age, did we?
and it's not a oh-it's-so-funny sort of chuckle. more like accepting the past and moving on, because there's so much to look forward to in the present and the future. of course you know. i never thought i'd share that passage above on such a public space but. . . it doesn't matter, somehow. it's like a part of me i'd like to share, simply because.
when is the rain going to stop, i want to run and burn off the cupcake of mine which i ate and the two pineapple tarts and get refreshed so i can go on doing my public law assignment tonight.
one kind of emo la. rcmi man.
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