Sunday, June 19, 2011

RAMBLINGS: The problem with sleeping early is that...

... You wake up at unearthly hours. I tried to inhale lavender oil but even though it's 100% pure and certified and whatever not, I was still left staring at the ceiling, asking God if Mr. Right were in Taiwan. Yes, a tell-tale sign that I am currently watching those sappy, but incredibly sweet, Taiwanese idol dramas.

It's a little strange for my personal posts to be housed together with my beauty posts. But however strange it is, this sojourn was meant to be personal. Sunbathing Muffins is primarily for beauty stuff. Just a fleeting thought.

On Friday night, the brother and I stayed past 2am, talking. We talked about dreams, about family, about feelings... The family is nowhere near perfect but I'm glad we can talk so freely to one another. Even if we did need a nudge every now and then. But you know, eventually, we talk. And I think that's important for relationships. Any relationship. The ability to talk freely.

Okay, I'm going to digress a little because I want to pen my thoughts down before they elude me. I threw away the last traces of him yesterday. They were a pretty mess of handwriting. Of Math notes and work solutions. I wrote probably about 5 long letters to him back then. But I never got one back. Just texts. Somehow, letters feel a thousand times more superior. A million times more sincere.

And yes, I kept pieces of him. I fibbed and gave myself a plethora of senseless reasons but I just wanted to hang on to something. You know, I don't really get how people can move on within months, or even years. You tell someone that you love him/ her, you do nice things for him/ her and you break up. A period of time passes and you find someone else. And you do the same thing; you say you love him/ her, you do nice things for him/ her... But how can that be?!? When just a while back, you were doing all those to someone else. I don't get it.

But anyway, I very nearly didn't get rid of his paraphernalia of death. Thank goodness that I have adopted the impulsive attitude towards life, out of fear of morphing into a wrinkled and flabby mess of regrets. And I'm glad and relieved that I did it. Because otherwise, it just meant that I hadn't completely let go.

I was supposed to talk about dreams in this entry but yeah, thinking about the L word just kinda spoilt things. But oh well. I'm still waiting for the email so I can actually prepare for it. And until I get that email, it means I have nothing. Please don't tell me that you don't need me already!

It frustrates me a little when companies contact me at the end of the week, I do my replies almost immediately (Because I'm always checking my emails, because I haven't got anything else to refresh. Oh yes. Twitter. But tweets are short and emails are well, at times, pretty long. I love reading long stuff.) and then, you don't hear from them and it just sucks because it's the weekends and you have to wait till Monday and there's always the fear that they were just being funny and you know that, of course, there isn't any reason for them to be funny... But you just worry.

I know, lacking in confidence of all sorts and a world-class worry wart. I certainly fool some people.

This week feels hellishly busy because I'm meeting up with some friends. Filza, Charmian and Wei Ching, Lennard (Maybe.), Audrey and Michelle... And I really need that email so that I can start preparing and won't pee in my pants, come Saturday.

Anyway, does anyone know a word that means 'belongings of a dead person'? It starts with 'p' and it's in the first chapter of 'I'm the King of the Castle' by Susan Hill. I think it was about the dead moths which old Mr. Hooper kept. I can't think of it at the moment and I threw that book away because it scared me so much. It was a good book for Literature but it really scared me shitless. Second chapter. Heh.

I shall try and get some sleep now. Hanging out with the parental units later. :D

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