:: Wallpaper ::

:: Saturday, April 26, 2003 ::

It's sad how history repeats itself. Some things never change.

Questions bubbled to the surface, only that it was someone else who asked them. Sad that it should be her, a naivette perhaps, still feeling out her way in life. Sad that I could not help her much. Sad that her innocent faith in people should be shattered so soon. Sad that she had to go through what I did. Only with less help.

But at the same time, I started to accept certain truths I did not want to recognise. You and I, can no longer be friends as we once were. You said I was the closest you had here. But now it will be no longer. You choose to push yourself away, and I will do nothing to stop you. Just like you choose to call me friend once, you are free to turn your back on me. I no longer care. All I care is that I did nothing wrong, and that I did my best to being a friend. And that's all that matters to me.

You are meaningless to me. You no longer need me. So goodbye. My duty is done. As for her, I'll be there till my time once again expires. I hope it never does.


:: Sam 9:32 PM [+] ::
...

Forgotten.
Abandoned.
Erased.


:: Sam 9:11 PM [+] ::
...

Thanks to the recent SARS outbreak, I've been spending a lot of time in boarding, and a lot of time on the phone. Almost everyday has been spent on late night conversations talking about all sorts of stuff with you. I'm not much of a phone talker, but guess boredom does a lot to change a person's lifestyle eh?

I remember the first time I met you. My first impression. And my decision that after all was over, I would not bother to keep in contact, to remain strictly professional and businesslike, so as to avoid whatever possible politics that may come of it. I remember my caution in assesing you, in checking whether the words and attitude were right, and to compare them with those I had heard. I found no fault.

Then I remember circumstances, or perhaps it was my subconcious doings(?) that led to the transgression of that fine line between co-worker, and friend. I don't think I could really choose anyway. Either we magically clicked, or I was letting you into my life. I seriously doubt the former and my resolve. By now, after all the things that happened last year, any friendship I make or believe that I make is definitely by no means a chance happening.

I cannot remember exactly when you first called me, or when we started talking about your life, and mine, and once awhile, one of those secrets that are whispered between friends. It is interesting to think how fast a friendship can develop sometimes, and even more interesting then, to wonder if such a friendship can last long. Not to hint at anything of course, I'm just wondering. I'll admit I'm totally at ease with you, though nowadays I wonder if that should be the case. Dangers of the not so distant past seem to be light-years away from where I am now.

It's been fun though. I've been very cheerful for a long period of time, and I'm glad that I can be cheerful and chirpy around you, sometimes even childish, though you may think that that is all I am. Of course, after all, you did mention that I am for talking crap and laughter, a dose of childishness, and almost fun. Almost. I hope I'm not that shallow to you. And the question that I always dread now looms above me like a raincloud, or worse still, a storm waiting to brew. Are we friends? As in, how much in the sense of the word friends are we?

I remember the catastrophe this question wrecked the last time I asked it. It caused enough trouble when I asked it to myself, and even more when I asked it to others. It is something that should never be asked, at least not without preparation for the lashbacks. But right now, once again, I can't help but wonder. Perhaps it had something to do with what I told you last night. Perhaps it's been really quite some time since someone opened up to me instead of the other way round. Wait, did you open up to me? Or is it another of my imaginations again?

I dunno. I suppose I'm troubled. Troubled by as trivial a matter as this, but yes, I'm troubled. I need reassurance, comfort. Sometimes, I think maybe, just maybe, it's better to run back and hide in that dark hole of mine. But then again, I'd never see light. And I never thought I'd had to think about this again but here I am.

I should just throw away all of such thoughts and inclinations, stop questioning, and live a normal life. But somewhere in the back of that head of mine, it will lurk. In the mean time, thanks for the company, haha...

You know something? I'm a dreamer. I love beautiful things. I love dreaming about impossible fantasies filled with beauty of my imagination. I love being a child, even if and only if that is what I can remain to be.


:: Sam 5:36 AM [+] ::
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