Walkway

Stepping out into the big unknown. Flicking aside pebbles and twigs from the beaten down path. Staring straight ahead at whatever comes into view. A serious sort of stare. The kind of stare that says, "You'd better not mess with me! I can take you on!" Dragging feet along the dusty earth. Shutting dry eyes and turning the face heavenward, whilst welcoming the gentle gust of a temporary wind. And the rustling leaves on the trees form a soothing harmony, coupled with the tweeting of birds from the tree branches. The rumble of distant thunder... what awaits in the future horizon? The reddish-orangish tinge of the setting sun. The sudden silence falling all around. Another twilight beckons, another ending day. Lips parting to sing a quiet song. The tune echoes through the open space. Aloneness. Serenity. Hopefulness in better things to come, maybe tomorrow.

Anxiety Attacks

I think I'm in love.

Trouble is, it's just that. A thought.

What does he think? That's my whole problem just there. Yes there. Right there. I don't know what he thinks.

Oh, I've been down this road before. One too many times. I figure maybe it's become somewhat too familiar...

Girl likes guy. Girl brushes it off as a silly thought. Time passes. Girl likes guy more and more. Guy's awfully nice, and (I suppose) likes being with girl. BUT guy is clueless that girl likes guy. Guy moves on in life. Girl gets left behind.

That about sums it up most times. Sigh.

I just want an ongoing reason for us to be in touch. I just want him to want me. And it's agony waiting this out. Because I know the most likely ending.

^

And if by chance it's you that reads this, I just want you to know...

That I think of you much and wish you'd always be here. Maybe I don't know you enough, but I do wish I had the chance.

That if it were up to me, I'd be your #1 supporter 24-7. And if ever you thought any less of yourself than what you're really worth, there's at least this ONE person here who thinks the world of you.

That I wish you'd call.

That I'm not perfect, but I'm hoping you'll say you'd still like me anyway.

That I know it's stupid, that I feel this way about you, but God willing, I'd try the best I could to be that helpmeet that you [just might] need someday.

That I can't say the words "I love you" because the proximity and circumstances and prospects don't warrant it.

That it's agony hoping that you'd feel for me the way I do for you, especially when I know it's close to impossible.

That I wish you the best for your life when you do finally go away, even if I don't get a share in it.

Agony

Why God, must we live in constant agony? Why is relief never final? Why does provision seem so insufficient, temporary? Must all of our lives be lived in uncomfortableness and ongoing restlessness? Why do we not find You sufficient for our situation, when in reality You are?

Agony, painful agony. It pierces into your heart like a knife with a deep cut and an enduring wound.

Maybe I'm too lost and imperfect to ever be good enough?

Questions For You, My Dear

Guys are so hard to figure out. Even in retrospect, I cannot fully understand what were their actual intentions are in doing/saying this or that thing. It could be some experience from years, months ago, and to this day it could still be a puzzle to me. It's come to a point where sometimes I think, why bother? This inbuilt, ongoing fascination with members of the opposite sex... what good does it do, other than fuel an desire to get intimate with one by marrying them? And what do you get by marrying them... possibly just more troubles and misunderstandings and hurts and wounds to nurse over many decades to come (or whatever left of life is afforded you)?

Maybe if all of us were more honest and straight forward in the things we do, it wouldn't be so bad. Thing is, it seems to be like, the older we get, the more easily we hide our emotions and act in deceptive ways that are totally opposite to what we truly feel and think.

Hence, a lot of mixed signals and messages meant to be conveyed that get lost in transmission. And it all adds up to join the enormous party of confusion that we continue to celebrate and accept without question.

Oh, for the days when we were but children, and could not help but just speak our minds...

And in all of this, I think all my unsettled emotions and lack of closure for past experiences could be all obliterated by one simple thing: an opportunity to sit the people concerned down, one-to-one with me, and to just ask away all the questions I have kept inside. To make clear to them how I had interpreted what they did, and how much it affected me. And then to hear their side of the story, as they explain what they had really meant to convey. To comprehend what they were going through, and why things were how they became.

Perhaps then, all the insecurity and dissatisfaction and suppressed hurts can find their way to evaporate into the atmosphere and henceforth leave me eternally alone...

Why did you act like you cared or that I meant something to you, yet never made efforts for us to spend time together?

How come it seemed like for all the world, other people mattered more to you, yet in some quiet mysterious ways it was almost as if you were trying to convince me to the contrary?

Why did you bring up so many hopes, make promises, only to renege on them almost every time?

Did you not realise how much what you did/said affected me, and the emotions they stirred?

Why did you even bother making efforts to grow closer if it was never to be followed up with a continuous form of companionship and trust and openness?

Why won't you disappear from my life, instead of being there, in the background, beyond my reach and understanding?

Why did you even appear in my life to begin with?


See the void you did not fill
Note these wounds that haven't healed
I cannot completely forget
Neither can I wholly regret
And the words I used to have ran dry
All I wish to say is just one proper goodbye

Just Be?

Often times I get rather tired of life. Not because I can't handle the raging violence of war, or the sexually twisted minds of some, or the failing economies, or the lying politicians or the unpredictability of transient relationships.

It's just for the sheer fact that it's so frustrating to be human. To be fallible. To get up every morning with hopes of going through the day without making any mistakes. Only to mindlessly let one careless word/action slip out into the atmosphere just a few moments later. Then before long, it all gets out of hand, and thereafter what's left to do but to be ashamed once again at the inability to do things right.

And so the endless list of regrets reels on and on, tormenting the mind to no end. And the hurts inflicted on the innocent all around, those who did truly love and care for you, grows with each additional breath you take.

I am not one to believe in suicide. But sometimes I think I cannot blame those who resort to it. For it seems quite apparent that living as a human being is a rather hopeless cause. What do we hope to achieve? What can we achieve, when all successes we attain are marred by our imperfections aplenty?

Undoubtedly, having people who are understanding and accept you for who you are numbs the pain of failure and disappointments with yourself. Yet it doesn't change the fact that history will repeat itself, as surely as the sun rises and sets each day.

It's pretty much a lie to say to anyone, "I love you just the way you are" or "don't change a single thing [about the way you are]". Because if ever it is said, and if it were indeed heartfelt, then the truth of the matter is we probably don't know the person whom it was said to well enough. There are too many flaws in all of us combined than can be contained in this world.

Perhaps it's better to be an animal. To just be who you are, yet knowing that your very instinctive behaviour fits so perfectly with who God has made you to be. To be secure that hunting for food, caring for your young, mating, sleeping, eating, playing and dying are all that there is to your lot in life. To live without qualms of what will happen to your surroundings, or worrying about what the next day will bring. To be as dull in the head as you can be as far as intelligence and reasoning is concerned, yet perfectly content.

Or perhaps it's even better to be a plant, or tree, or flower. To have but a short lifespan, yet to grace the Earth with your beauty. Never to be blamed for any wrongdoing, living in perfect harmony with your surroundings. Dependent on the weather and ideal living conditions, yet knowing if you indeed did die, that it would be a noble giving back to nature what it has blessed you with. For in your death, you would bring added fertility to the soil, and pave the way for the next generation of greenery to grow to take your place.

But human I am. And human I remain, for that is what God has decided that I should be. But certainly I cannot just be. For if I lived by my natural inclinations, I would tend towards self-centredness, which eventually leads to my ruin. How can any of us get it right, since none have before, and most certainly none ever will?

...what is man that You are mindful of him,
the son of man that You care for him?

- Psalm 8:4

The Onslaught of SMS and All Other Forms of Wireless Technologies (and the Downfall of REAL Communication)

I've been doing some research on SMS related tech lately. So in the course of doing so, I stumbled upon a site about the many different ways SMS tech is being used these days. It will amaze you just how many ways it can be used now. People do their banking with SMS. Get up-to-date traffic info. Book tix to see a concert. Break up with a bf/gf that's weighing them down. Vote. Donate. Get the latest news.

The list is endless. See for yourself at this website.

I suppose the less I know about the widespread of such things, the better I'll be.

Because as much as I'd agree to using and encouraging the use of modern technology, there are times where it's almost like I'm pining for the old days again.

You see, with the accessibility of all forms of wireless technology, it has eliminated the need for more direct human contact. What happened to lining up in queue to wait your turn to buy tickets? Going over to someone's house to discuss the details of an ongoing project you are working on together? Calling someone just to say you miss them?

These days, it's a mere quick kungfu of finger movements on the mobile phone keypad (or the PC's keyboard.. or PDA... what have you), a few extra button presses/clicks to locate the SEND command and then you've said your piece.

And so the recipient gets a very dead line of text saying "I love you so much." Only for that very same person to find out months later that perhaps the love wasn't as true as the words read. But it's virtual reality after all, ain't it?

How it deadens the human soul of emotion and interaction.

Sometimes though, I must say, it does have its benefits. You can agree to converse with a particularly repulsive character on... let's say, online instant messaging, without having to actually meet them. Thereby inducing a notion of care where there really is a lack. But as twisted as that sounds, sometimes, just sometimes, such measures are indeed necessary (aren't they?).

The use of these technologies does save time and effort in getting a message across to someone, especially when they're far off and it's too difficult for you to find means to meet face-to-face to utter a few one or two liners and wait for a response. And a phone call would be out of the question due to exorbitant call rates. And the person you're looking for is too busy and is constantly on the move anyway. Why disturb them unnecessarily? Just send a little messsage, and they can read it in their own time.

Furthermore, if you resorted to sending an IM or SMS, you could very well be checking your e-mail, or clocking in much needed hours for office/school work, while waiting for a response from the other party. Hence, more gets accomplished in the same amount of time.

But therein lies the problem of distractedness. We're so used to multi-tasking that it's too hard and too trying on us to just sit down and focus on one thing only. Wait a tad too long, endure too deadly a silence, and our minds get agitated for lack of activity, and our bodies get fidgety, yearning for something to occupy us. Entertain us. Why should there be dull moments in a person's life anyway? Hence the need to fill up our lives with all sorts of indirect, state-of-the-art technology. Keeps us alive, it seems.

I am not denying the benefits of technology, really. Only lamenting the decay of the true connectivity of human souls. When was the last time you said more words in a day than you did type? (And by that, I mean to those who matter most).

I still treasure a handwritten, posted letter or a telephone call or tea with a friend much more than mere SMS or any other similar forms of communication. Anyone who wishes to offer anything less to me proves by their sheer deeds how little fondness they attach to me. A high demand for today's folks. I'd say. But who needs company anyway?

Keeping Up The Pretenses

Uhm... do you realise just how smoothly the response "I'm fine, thank you" rolls of your tongue when somebody asks you "How are you?" That reply is so commonplace that it should be challenged on its authenticity every time. Because I am utterly convinced that more than half the time it's said, it isn't even within close range of what is really going on in the life of the person who said it.

Have we all perfected the art of pretending or what? And have we all grown so accustomed to putting on pretenses that it becomes too natural for us... 'til the point that what we pretend to be really becomes who we are (in the sense of who we live our lives as) and who we really are, how we really feel inside, just gets lost and evaporates without a single trace?

Too often we practice these same lines, with the same replies, and amazingly we derive satisfaction from it without ever questioning if what is said is what really is.

In other words, do we really care? Why are we content just with a mere verbal assurance, that the person before us, the person we are conversing with, spending time with on the pretext of love or concern or some other high virtue, is alright and has their life together? Why do we even ask how they are anyway? Is it to convince them that we care? Or as so-called evidence that we can use to conclude that everything's okay and there is no real cause for concern, even though the irrepressible gut feeling is that there really is something that is the matter with them?

And why do we not tell it like it is to someone else when they ask us how we are doing? Is it for fear that they would not understand? Or that they may make things worse by how they react afterwards? Or that we'd finally see things as they are: that perhaps the other person doesn't quite care as much as we hoped they would?

From my personal experience, the reason I don't speak up very often about how things really are in my life is for the plain reason that nobody's really interested to hear my long, elaborate replies about why everything is going wrong for me right then and there, and the dozens of doubts that are tormenting me. For the few times I tried to say something more - hinting just a bit at the fact that perhaps my "I'm fine" is not quite as fine as my words are potraying (doing this by means of a contradicting facial expression, perhaps) - the other person only seems to listen intently for awhile. Then you can almost visually see their minds jump up and wander off from concentrating on what I'm saying by the time the "oh" response escapes their mouth. And from then on, it's all going downhill. Sometimes it comes to the point where I'm yabbering on and on and it's so self defeating because I know it's practically useless. A waste of time. All the things I'm saying are just flying by them, without even the slightest effort on their part to reach out and at least try to grasp what I'm saying.

On the flip side, perhaps we say the cliched phrase "How are you?" simply because we have no better way of putting across to someone we don't know so well that we really do care about them, without sounding too intrusive or imposing. I know I've encoutered a couple of situations where I've felt exactly this way. And if we do say it sincerely enough, the other person may actually get the sentiments we are trying to convey. Then it's perfectly fine, of course. It may even be appreciated that we bothered to ask.

Another possible reason why we perhaps succumb to repeating this overused question at the start of almost every conversation is because maybe, we're short of ideas on how to kickstart an engaging chat with a particular someone, and hoped that they'd say something in their reply that we could perhaps take hold of and use to propel the conversation further, tranforming it into something much livelier. For instance, the mention of family could lead to further inquiries on their welfare or how relationships with their next of kin have been of late. Reference to a recent holiday or business trip could be followed by encouraging the person to elaborate more about their holiday/trip, how did they find it, what did they do, etc.

And so, for all these reasons and more, this dull, hackneyed phrase of "How are you?" and its [almost required] accompanying response, "I'm fine, thank you" lives on in our society today. Amusing, is it not? Yet it is rather a sad state of affairs. Wouldn't life be a little less confusing if we'd all just be unafraid of being blatantly honest and speaking our mind, spilling out all the pent up thoughts and emotions in our minds and hearts? But alas, we are creatures of habit. So onward the habit goes, and we remain content with the ever familiar replies.

Leftovers

Leftovers, anyone?

I have a pretty sad love life. Sad because nothing's ever worked out before. I just wish he and I could talk. It's not like he was ever mine, but I just wish things would end more neatly. The way it is, it's like we're worlds apart right now. We used to be quite close, and it's sad that just because I had to get over him I had to distance myself from him and things have dwindled to become how they are right now. It's just maddening how things always seem to end up like this. It's not like I'm in love with him anymore, yet it feels so depriving that other people know so much more about him now than I do and he doesn't even tell me anything anymore. And it's not like any of this bothers him. I bet he doesn't even miss being close to me the way things were last time. I just can't rid my head of him, although I try to convince myself that I have.

When It's All In Your Hands

I believe that one of the times that you feel most in control in life is when you're behind the wheel. Yeah, you know... like driving a car? I certainly feel that way when I drive. I mean, when I'm driving alone in the car, that is.

I can drive at whatever speed I wish. Cruise, crawl or even zip along. I can change lanes whenever I like, or hog the same ol' lane for as long as I wish. I can honk the horn at whim, and decide what type of music I prefer to listen to as I drive. The radio, perhaps. Or maybe a favourite CD. Or perhaps nothing at all. I can think whatever thoughts that are in my mind, in the quietness of the little space of the car's interior, for the entire duration of my journey.

Almost perfect control (minus the unpredictability of weather and road conditions, and also the necessity of abiding by traffic laws).

So anyway, my point is that when we're on the road, driving in our comfy little cars, we're really quite in control of what's happening in our lives. So-called.

Now, what continuously irks me is to see the way people behave whilst on the road.

I don't know what the traffic is like where you live, but here where I'm at, there is almost a non-existence of civic consciousness. Give people near-perfect control over something like driving and what do they do? They get selfish. They act like no one else is there, and that even when they are it doesn't matter anyway. They slip in and out of various highway lanes just so they can maximise their own travelling speed and time whilst threatening to be a road hazard and a public nuisance to all.

Surely people would have the heart to once in awhile give in, and let someone else go their way without creating a ruckus with their horn, or yelling or showing signs of displeasure indirectly through the rear or side mirrors? Surely they would realise that perhaps there are other people in this world besides them who may be in a hurry to reach their destination... that someone else might be late... or in an emergency?

I'll admit that driving where I live has made me a little more ruthless than before. I have learnt to exert my way on the road, lest I get constantly bullied or ignored and have to wait half a day just for a chance to cross a busy intersection. Just because all the other drivers whizzing by failed to consider the needs of someone other than themselves. What a sad state of affairs - the fact that you have to toughen up and fend for yourself, just because of the individualistic culture that has dug its roots deep into your community's lifestyle.

Yet this observation has repercussions for me as well. As much as I do complain about the horrid ugly nature of other's behaviour, now and then I am forced to also examine how I behave given similar circumstances. And I regretfully admit that I cannot say for certain that I would've acted any better.

Predestination: Meant To Be?

Sometimes I wonder at the outcome of our lives. You see, I'm a Christian, and so I believe in what the Bible says about my life:

... All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be.

-Psalm 139:16

What does that imply? That everything unfolding before me in my life had already been ordained for me, long even before I was even in existence. I guess that means that God already knew the decisions I would make in life, long before they were even placed before me, long before I even knew what they would be about.

So I wonder, is it worth going through all the motions then? If it's a matter of just a predetermined plot unfolding, what difference would it make that I lived through outcomes decided long ago? Or has God prepared a few alternate endings, where which one of them that I'd end up with depends on my decisions?

I cannot make sense of my life. I cannot reconcile why certain things have become as they have. I don't understand why some things of yesterday still haunt me in my dreams and thoughts, although circumstances have changed so much already.

Is this how it was meant to be? Or was it that I stumbled onto the wrong alternate ending, not so long ago?

Independence Amongst Children: A Process Not To Be Hurried Along

It has bothered me for quite awhile now, why there is a tendency in us to want to rush someone to grow up.

What I mean by this is how adults are expecting kids to learn in a hurry how to be independent. Of course, I'm not saying here that kids shouldn't mature when they should, nor am I saying that they should cling to their parents right through their adolescent years or something of that sort.

What I am saying is why we consider it such a good thing that a kid can go out on their own, manage their own food and affairs without a hunger for family, a need for communal activity. Are we not by the very way we bring them up, teaching them at an early age to become individualistic?

We should be careful that what we label "independent" is not in actual fact "individualism".

What's so great about the fact that a kid can do so many things by themselves that we should shower so much praise and admiration on such kids as these? What about those who constantly need help from others, and make no pretenses about it? Are they any less capable just because they aren't as independent? Undoubtedly, kids need to learn to do things for themselves at some point in time, and that will come about in its proper time and place and should be taught to them by their parents. The kid him/herself may even ask to be taught how to do certain things by themselves, even. But what I find unreasonable is when parents hurry their children to learn independence.

Yes, of course it's less hassle in parenting there onwards, but then don't come complaining a couple of years down the line when you find your children totally disregard you and avoid relating to you. Didn't it cross your mind that perhaps your teaching them to "do it yourself" too early in life (just to be rid of having to mind them all the time) might very well be the cause for their lack of affection for you?

Don't you go making like it's some kind of high level virtue when your kid can be independent in doing things. Praising them and rewarding them isn't really wrong, it's just the emphasis on it in the light of other more important things that a child should master.

Independence isn't everything.

In fact, the older we get, we'll find increasingly that interdependence is the better way to go. Good examples of this are the interdependencies found in romantic relationships, family connections and even at the workplace, in terms of team-based projects.

Yes, everyone needs to know how to survive and thrive regardless of the absence of others. But everyone also needs to know how to do both these things when they are surrounded by the people as well.

Cultivating independence in children without an equal effort to educate them on the need of interdependency is a fatal flaw in parenting, I believe.

Perhaps we should re-examine how the next generation is being raised right now. Are we doing it right? The process of learning independence should not be rushed for kids. After all, what we want is a selfless, civic conscious society who are mindful of the needs of others in every way, is it not?

Humanness

Initially, I imagined that he acted the way he did towards me merely because he wanted to see what sort of reaction it would evoke in me. Just for the fun of it. Possibly out of spite. He seemed like an elusive sort; with so many contacts with people of the opposite gender, and a rather abrasive nature whenever he was in a bad mood or felt like being difficult.

I didn't think it could've possibly crossed his mind how much hurt and turmoil he had inflicted on my soul. How, with every little cheesy thing he said, he was making my heart crumble. Drilling to the core of my weakness. And I almost loathed meeting him every time. It felt like something inside of me was squirming and making me sick on the inside every time I saw him, every occasion in which I had to exchange words with him. He was, after all, to my mind, unpredictable. Cocky. Immature. Irritating.

Difficult he was, indeed. But maybe, so was I?

What I hadn't counted on was the fact that he had - in the ongoing turn of events in his private life - a set of challenges, setbacks and excruciating heartbreaks of his own. I only knew in part, saw in part.

And the more the truth unfolded, the more I realised that perhaps he's not the spiteful, cunning, conniving, selfish guy that I imagined he was. Perhaps he did care. Perhaps he did occasionally intend to offer real help to me, and did also, at some point, value my company...

The truth of the matter is, that we really don't understand what's going on in somebody else's life at all. We presume to comprehend it, but often what we do know is only so little in the face of the full blown realities that strike them each day. The nightmares. The fears, the glaring past that perhaps they still have problems overcoming, or leaving behind. The secrets. The things they wished to pour out to us, but haven't yet found the courage and suitable opportunity to.

And beneath that smile, that same calm expression that you see them wear every day, there lies a restless soul... fighting to stay alive and to make sense of what is going on.

We assume too much.

I find it ironic that sometimes the people we think we know so well, the people we spend the most time with, are the people that we know the least about. It's scary. More than that, it's downright sad.

And when a sudden twist of events changes the way they are, or the way we relate to them, we look back at how things were and wonder why we didn't understand better before.

Yet the one good thing that comes out of having known someone for quite awhile and knowing more about them now than you did then is that maybe, in some way, you realise more than before how human they really are. Not so tough and impossible as how they seemed previously. In fact, very much vulnerable. So you stand back a little, and gaze at them now in a new sort of awe...

Then maybe, just maybe, you chance to love them a little more.

I so totally agree with Carson McCullers...

The heart is a lonely hunter.

The Recurring Nightmares

Ah. I always wanted to talk to someone about these things. Recurring nightmares.

It's not what you think. It's not the kind of nightmares where there's a huge, grizzly monster out to get you, or the world is about to end in a big impending explosion, or you're at the verge of needing to take some heroic action to save someone you love from the jaws of death.

It's the kinda down-to-earth nightmares where people you know are in it, and the things that happen are so close to reality that you just could've very well imagined that they did happen.

It's those kinda nightmares that I'm talking about.

In my case, it's been these ongoing nightmares about people from my past, things from my past that are unresolved, or rather, can't be resolved in the present day.

What I want to know is what it'll take to get these nightmares to stop. I don't need to be a loser in my dreams. Not anymore than I am in real life, eh?

It has always intrigued me how some things seem to stay embedded within our memory for years on end, and how, at the same time, something else (that perhaps even occurred at the same point of time as the aforesaid remembered incident) can quite easily be forgotten within the next day or hour or minute.

What are these thoughts that swim around in our brains? And most of all, why do they remain there? Why has God put them there?

The simple answer would be to say it's to make us remember. To make us recall our beginnings, and the lessons we've learnt through all we've been through. To chart our course way into the future, in the light of who we've become.

Without memories, we'd have no past. Without a past, we'd have no identity... no solid experiences to lend credibility to our existence. Without an identity, we'd not know why we're here, and would pretty much cease to be here. Despite the fact that we may still live on.

That would be an even worse nightmare, I'd wager. A living nightmare.

Without Reserve

This is my voice.

This is my chance to speak without reserve about the thoughts that swim about in the recesses of my brain. I don't claim to have earth shaking philosophies, or world changing strategies to demand the attention of others.

But I am here. And I want to speak up. And having an anonymous blog rids me of the need to censor myself, or to make sure I am guarding everyone's interests and feelings.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not here to gossip. I'm not that kinda person.

I'm just here to speak my mind.

The title of this blog, Candycoatedwaterdrops is based on a song by a band called Plumb.

Here are the lyrics of that song:

Candycoatedwaterdrops
What is this
Mass confusion
This crazy way we're living
This emptiness we're passing out
Like candycoatedwaterdrops
I'm spilling out my thoughts
You're spilling out your guts
And I can't help but stop and think that
If the world stopped spinning
If the end was beginning
Would you even notice if I wasn't there?
If the world stopped spinning around
All that's worth dying for is already dead
An empty religion you've learned to accept
When nothing means everything, your daily routine
You go through the motions like a helpless machine
You're spinning 'round
You're spinning 'round
But I can't help wondering
You're spinning 'round
You're spinning 'round
But I can't help wondering
When the answers to everything are right in your hands
You lose your conviction, but you can't help standing
On the one thing that held you for so many years
You ask for forgiveness and hold back the tears

I hope in some ways it makes for some meaning as to why this blog is named the way it is.

I don't really expect anyone to read this. But if you do, good on ya. I hope that you find some comfort here, or something that inspires you. It's the thing that gets me most high in life. To make even if just that tiny difference.

Here's to the bright beginnings of a nice lil' comfy anonymous blog. The second of its kind in my blog records.