Form of Formlessness, Presence in Absence.

My brain is still reeling from the effects of an unbelievably draining Lit lecture. Today's Japanese Studies Lecture was about post-war Japanese history, which wasn't really very interesting. Nevertheless, with Juni nodding off next to me, I tried my very best to focus; I cannot afford to space out anymore! The mistakes from Junior College musn't be repeated.

Duty, responsibility, obligation, passion.
In that order, but sometimes I wish could just let passion rule everything.
You, dear friend, will probably laugh at me as you read this from your room in Miri.
Good-naturedly, of course.
Somehow there was a pang of loss when you told me that you were already out of Singapore.

You, with the key to my Box:
I wonder if you've really thrown it away.
That look in your eyes as you struggled to comprehend - I do believe that you really tried.

Love - selfish and selfless at the same time.
Consuming, devouring; comforting, nurturing.
Smothering, stifling. My grip slipped.
Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts.

The bitterness has faded. Into what, you ask?
I'm not sure about that. I still haven't forgotten, and I think I won't ever forget.
Our hopes, our madness, our infinite joy.
This isn't an attempt to be poetic; neither is it a moment of destructive self-indulgence.
It's just my matter-0f-fact acknowledgement of circumstances. Acceptance isn't exactly a choice...it never was.



We were innocent, once.