童年，你走地还真快

最近不知怎么了，总是爱念旧。小时候做过的事情玩过的游戏看过的电影，突然想回到童年期，没有电脑没有手机没有面子书的那种简单日子。

终于把Toy Story 3一口气的看完了，这么幼稚的故事情节，到最后还不是把我的眼泪给逼了出来。好久没有这样尽情的哭了。

其实每集我都哭了，这陪着我长大的动画片^_^

玩具们不顾一切的想回到自己主人身边， "to be there for him, no matter what"，虽然有点老套，但回想以前一整天就只对着玩具谈天说地，那个时候，真的，玩具就等于天下了。但就像 Andy 一样，长大后都把玩具搁在一旁看也不看一眼，功课电脑考试书本把玩具们都给取代了，但却都不舍得丢掉。

有时会觉得奇怪。一个男孩儿怎么会有个芭比娃娃呢？

到了最后一幕，Andy 准备离开了，他和妈妈一起走进几乎空荡荡的房里，剩下那蓝色星星的墙纸，还有他和玩具们的合照，回到了最初最原本的样子；他的妈妈顿时愣住了，仿佛突然发现儿子长大了，时间一下子都不知去了哪儿，眼前那小小的男孩不见了，而剩下的是即将离开的小大人。

那一刹那我鼻头酸了。

当初收拾房间准备到莎亚南时不也这样吗？多么地依依不舍，对着空荡荡的房里，还有那些被留下来的我的童年 -- 我的小说集我的玩具娃娃们 -- 又不能随身携带，又放不下的。到了抉择的时候才发现原来这些东西对我来说其实非常珍贵，就像 Woody 对 Andy 很重要一样。

触动人心的一幕。真的，我哭得更惨了，这离开前最后一次一起的快乐

有时怀疑长大与年龄岁数的增长无关。成长，是不是更应该以一个人面对抉择的次数来衡量呢？

看完了 Toy Story 问问自己，如果自己的玩具真的和人一样会伤心会绝望会开心会不舍，他们会不会想我了？他们又会不会怀疑我？而将近二十的我还记不记得以前玩玩具那单纯的快乐？

我深信，每个人心中都有个长不大/不想长大的孩子。故事里 Andy 把玩具们一个个介绍给 Bonnie 时的那种热忱的稚气，然后对 Woody 不舍的神情；其实他也和我一样，对自己的童年依依不舍不想就这样放开，就算不能回到过去，也不能让自己的童年不留点痕迹。看着十几岁的 Andy 和小小的 Bonnie 拿着玩具追来追去，自己有多久没有这样毫无拘束了呢？

好想当那小女孩儿…

虽然只是一部很孩子气的动画片，却蕴藏着很多我的心声。没有后悔看了这一部戏。

希望自己永远都不用把自己的玩具都送掉，那该有多痛苦！不能想象和我的‘小枕头’分离。

咳，离开的时间渐渐逼近了。若一切都能如愿进行，再过几个月又是收拾行李的时间了。这一次应该会走得更远更久了呗。那个时候，妹妹应该很大了，房间应该也会被她占据不会空荡荡的；当然，感觉也就不同了。一定会想念，现在房间的味道。

Andy 把玩具送完了后驾着车子离去的背影，挺帅的。放开了一切，心里肯定难受极了。不过，把东西留在一个会照顾自己心爱的物品的人，过一阵子，应该就没事了吧？如果是我，把该放开的都放下了，我离去的背影，会不会一样地潇洒，一样的帅呢？

童年啊童年，你走地还真快。

又想回家了。还真不该写部落格的。明天，明天我就回来了我的家！

后记：

突然觉得Andy好帅哦！！！

电死人的双眼 *晕*

日记

这字迹太美了吧，称得上是日记么？

前阵子重新翻阅以前写过的日记，几乎每一页都是些不开心的事。也许是心情低落时更有写日记的情趣吧。也许每次写日记的时候都近凌晨一两点，都是夜深人静特别想家的时候。

我的日记，称不上是日记呗。有什么不开心的或是心情不好时才挖出来发泄发泄，隔一两个月才写一次，然后发现自己好像把很多该记录的都给忽略了，不该记的…… 呵呵。

有时候把以前写过的日记重新翻出来，挺爽快的。以前的自己和现在的自己，心里想的钢笔写的，就连字迹也都不同了；时间的确把很多东东都给偷走了。还记得我的第一本日记，字可没几个，像人又像猴的画儿却多的是。

人？猴？原来google一下发现六岁的自己还蛮有毕加索的天分 XDXD

六岁的自己，竟然已把八卦的基因完全显现出来了。画中有话，话中也有画，就在那不成人形的自画像里找回以前曾经拥有的天真。

过后，很久都没再写了。

功课多的是，考试更不用说了。空闲时都逃到小说故事里去，写日记的习惯就这样被埋在桌子某个阴暗的角落了。

可能上了中四特别多烦恼，也可能突然发觉我的中学生涯即将告一段落，更可能的是因为看了某某小说有感而发，又开始写日记了。不过，这一次的日记，不再像以前六岁的自己一样--今天吃了炸鸡昨天弄哭了朋友明天想要吃幼儿园超棒的炒面--什么有的没的都给写下来。这一次的日记可是解压之记，不是发疯似的把当时疯狂追着的小说一字一句地往里面挤，就是发疯似地往牛角尖里钻。那个时候的日记，应该是被荷尔蒙占据了。

这几天的日记，却满满的都是想念。每次到了夜深人静的时候才开始写日记，房里就只剩下耳机里轻轻的爵士音乐，还有远处时不时传来的摩托引擎声。室友们都睡着了，灯也关得差不多了，应该复习的书本都关起来不想去理它了。

闭上眼睛，全世界好像就只剩我一个人。

是时候写日记了。

就差那一根烟，不然我就是作家了。XDXD

可能因为这样，每次把日记给挖出来的时候心情都不怎么样，中午玩得多疯多神经质都好，只要到了这个时候这个场景，就是写不出那种快乐疯狂的感觉，剩下的就只有思念。

才区区的三个礼拜没回家就到了这个地步，以后的两年半怎么过啊？

我知道，得学会怎么独立，人生到最后还不是自己一个人过，总不能为谁或谁而活；我可每天都告诉自己叻！说易做难嘛，把日记打开那一刹那就忍不住想回家了。看着日历，每天至少都要数一次，离回家的那天到底还有多久。

还剩三天。*叹*

想家，想得快疯了的时候最想被紧紧抱着的那安全感。

那人背影有点像 Maroon5 的 Adam Levine 哦！

哎，怎么从日记说到想念去了。不行了啦，我要回家！

是应该在日记里写些开心的事了吧。

“今天，其实我也过得很不错！^_^ 下雨天挺舒服的，该做的大多也都做完了。”

今天的日记，开场白就这么写吧！

I Would Die For You

But I wouldn't live for you.

Before you start screaming at me, no, I do not like tattoos. 

That's the quote I saw, and found pretty amazing, in The Perks Of Being A Wallflower.

It's been some time since I've read anything like this -- simultaneously light and heavy, very youthful and yet old, about friends, about love, about all those crazy stuff that we all do when our age defies us.

One of the little reliefs these days. :)

Granted, I do not approve of many of the crazy things they did -- pot, smoke, sex, abortions and all those. It's a little too crazy, and potentially disrupting with permanent side effects. Plus, there's Charlie trying to participate by trying all those forbidden apples. Are you really not participating if you're not smoking, doing pot or having sex?

Of course, I do not approve. There are far better ways to participate in life, Charlie.

However, the underlying theme of not participating in life-- being a wallflower, is worth pondering on. There are so many themes in the book worth looking over, and I vow to read the book at least twice someday in the future. *snorts* Make that a really far future.

Being a listener isn't really one of my strong points. I like to talk. Chattering, singing, mumbling, grumbling, nagging, scolding, laughing, giggling, chirping --  all these I can do; in fact, i'm pretty sure I'm good at it. Harping on and on in this blog should be enough to convince you of that.

I'm pretty sure you don't need FIVE people to talk that much. You just need ME.  :x

But listening. Really really listening. Like Charlie do. Put aside the fact that he's a wallflower, he's a really great listener. He really does understands, and he really does listen, and I guess that makes a really really desirable friend. He never really thinks about what he wants first; he's always trying to understand all the motives and feelings and reasoning lying beneath the epithelial layer. He's always observing (sounds creepy, I know, but still).

One of his more finer points.

And living. Dying for someone is --really-- not really that big a deal, once you think of it. It's usually just a split second decision -- to jump in front of a moving train to push someone aside, to shield a baby with your body against falling debris. Almost instinctual, if I might say.

But to live for someone. That's... That's really something. And I guess a lot of us, whether we know it or not, live for someone or the other. I know I do. I know I shouldn't too, but I can't help it. Sometimes you even lose yourself if you're not careful. To live for someone. To alter your paths, set your sights, your future, your decisions, all because of you want to please someone.... That's something real serious.

I mean, sure, you might change your routine a little just to see that person smile, try things that person like just to see how it feels. Friends, families, lovers. Whoever it might be. But it is these small things that eventually changes who you are, and forms a new you. Sometimes, it turns out alright-- your lucky stars shine and you turn out successful... But what if it doesn't?

My lucky star shone. I grew a liking for bitter things. Or is it me who's getting bitter?

Is it truly right to live for them and lose sight of your own life?

Perhaps I'm simply thinking too much. Perhaps living for someone is part of life and the realisation of it. Perhaps living for someone is living for yourself, sometimes.

Perhaps you can't really live for yourself unless you're living for someone. Perhaps you need both to truly live.

And To Goodbyes, We Say Hello Again

It never is, is it?

Isn't it funny, that no matter how many times you say goodbye -- practice saying it, actually saying it -- you never really get to have the perfect goodbye? After all, they say, practice makes perfect.

Saying goodbyes takes forever, I've heard once. Never really knew what it meant then, but as time passes, as more and more goodbyes loom ahead, the meaning regains clarity. It isn't the act itself, saying goodbye that takes time, I don't think. It's being truly able to accept the fact that this (whatever it is you're saying goodbye to) is the past. It's not going to happen again, it's not going to return to however it was before you said goodbye. 

It's sort of like a death, I guess. Where deaths have FUN-erals, farewells have GOOD-byes. All the oxymorons we really ought to ponder on. Perhaps it has more within the syllables than the word. 

I meant it hypothetically. =.=

Ignore my senseless ranting if you don't understand the workings of this convoluted mind. Sometimes I get lost inside too. 

Well, seeing that I'm saying hello to another goodbye, let's look back at this past year ( of course, provided my holey memory remembers ) -- all the fun, all the guns, all those crazy stuff we cried and laughed together. All those stuff you can only say goodbye to, but never really be apart from. 

After all, they say it's stuff like this that makes up who you are, eh?

That's me right there, right after the tests made me who I am.

Of course, first of all -- being nineteen. My final year as a teenager. Well, then again, I could still act like a teenager, but it won't be the same, I don't think. The 2 that's waiting to stand in front of my age sounds daunting though. Twenty. TWENTY. Urgh. 

I swear, Mr 2 just cackled in glee for having a new home --  my age.

Well, at least I think I had a good year. Broke some rules, broke some limits, broke some habits (made a lot more though); found a good lot of friends, found some things I'd thought I'd lost, found what it means to be nineteen -- what it means to be free, but never truly free. *snorts* Guess I also found a way to be really really contradicting. :P 

Goodbye Nineteen. Perhaps we'll meet again someday. Perhaps. 

I don't jiggle 'em much, but when I do, I slam it. Like. A. Boss. 

Then there's all the time I had to read books this year --considerably lesser than when I was in secondary school but that's to be expected I guess. I have a feeling free time's going to be even more elusive next year. And by next year, I mean tomorrow. Dang. I even had to spend New Year and its eve away from home. Not a very auspicious start for a year. 

Talk about auspicious. Don't even get me started about my results. AND the pending one. 

Perhaps this is one goodbye I'm the most reluctant to say. 

Goodbye, reading time. I'll find you whenever I can. 

I'm actually under all the books. Really. 

Then let's talk about hormones. I thought being out of puberty ( I hope I'm out already) hormones won't be scary. But it seems that my control over emotions are slipping away like eels. I hope to find them back by next year, but judging by the way things are right now.... 

Goodbye, me lovely control over my hormones. *sobs*

I think that's enough goodbyes for a day. There's bound to be more soon, seeing as this is the year we are all going in our different directions, scattered all over the world. 

Better say it first and let it sink in slowly. 

Goodbye friends.

Dry pants. Finally. Something good from a goodbye. 

This one year I regained my fun in words, this one year the joy of reading and writing was lost and found, this one year when everyday was like flying on top of the world with the viewpoint of an insect, this one year that was swifter than an arrow but slower than a snail, this one year when music ruled my world, this one year which felt like a dream even when I'm on my feet, even when I'm on the ground. 

2012 was a good year, maybe even one of the best I'll have. 

But I guess things never do stay the same no matter how much you want it to. So I'll have to say it.

Goodbye year. 

I'll miss you.

Just When I'm Missing You

It's kinda funny when these moments hit you, and you have absolutely no idea how to face them. Like exams flying into your face at a speed you know is going to smash your face in. Or a sore throat clawing at your throat cackling 'I'm coming' just when you were settling down for a sumptuous durian feast.

Exams tend to say that to me. :(

Or waking up every morning with one person in your mind and realising, oh, wait. I'm not supposed to be missing you.

Maybe it's too much T.Swift--god knows I do too much of that-- with her crooning I remember it all too well constantly into my ear, I reckon that's gotta mess up a girl's mind.  

I've been toying around with some words recently; words I'd written years before, words others had written, words that are resurfacing after a long absence. Sometimes these words bring back unwanted, unexpected memories or flashbacks, and pair 'em up with Tswift, you get a complete mesh of blubber--me. Pair that up with a sore throat, a persistent cough, too much free time and a depressing book like Atonement...

I just don't feel like chasing a ball, you know?

Well, I'll leave the effects to your imagination. 

Anyway, listening to Swift's I Almost Do had me crooning along, meaning the words with all my heart. I may not know the true heartbreak behind the words yet, but maybe --just maybe-- I'm feeling a shadow of what it might feel like. And it sucks. 

I bet you think I either moved on or hate you, because each time you reach out there's not reply. I bet it never ever occurred to you that I can't say hello to you and risk another goodbye.

She's right, you know. Sometimes it's a form of self-defence. To protect yourself from the unknown. 'Cause you never know when it's gonna turn back and hit you --hard-- right where it hurts. 

Realising we are not who we were any more, just when I'm missing you. 

Random words at random hours.

Random feelings. 

Random thoughts. 

Les Miserables

Les Miserables - The Miserables (wonder why I'd be interested in such a miserable book?)

It's not really the first time I've come in contact with this book. It'd always stayed somewhere in my brain as a vague great masterpiece--as labelled by the public-- and I know I know, I really should've sat me arse down and find out why others have labelled it as such. I mean, if I've got time for fanfiction and all those chicklits, I should--by logic--have time for these great masterpieces that has somehow waded through time, book-burnings and sharp-tongues out there.

Easier said than done.

I don't know why, but I can never finish a heavy book--by that I mean something even remotely heavier than  The Confessions of A Shopaholic--when I have tons of homework and exams looming over me.

My face when I discover LM

I envy those who can. I guess I need time for these books, to devour them from page to page without pause. Especially when it comes to classics like this. There are so many wonderful wordplays and hidden meanings between the lines and such beautiful plots I can't find it in myself to skim through them like I do Nicola and the Viscount.

It's just... hard, I guess, to get myself all teary and heavy-hearted when exams are depressing enough.

But Les Mis.

I have half a mind to go out now and buy the book, so beautifully strung the words are in songs. I have Harry Potter fanfiction to thank again for that. It's funny how fanfiction brings me to places I never really thought I'd end up. Amnesia, Autism, Les Mis, Beatles. I'm brought in front of things I'd never thought I'd love.

Beatles!

Moment Of Impact by Suite Sambo is really one of the best I've read, in fanfiction. It has all the elements I love--fatherly care, comfort, loneliness, the tragic after effects of war, coming to terms with death, families, friends. And with those, Suite has brought up Les Mis, which has elements stunningly similar to HP. Of course, it involves a war and thus all the usual after effects, but it also features a main character who's an orphan (technically she's not in the first act, but whatever).

I know I'm being boring, but I really need to get this off my chest. This meaning all those lyrics that haunts me night after night. Excuse me for being sappy, but I'm hopelessly sappy when it comes to Severus and Harry. *blush*

Sevvy!!!

There are too many songs that I love in this, and I haven't even read the thing yet. Anyway, here's one that really caught me. One dealing with survivor's guilt, that I'm here, and you're not, and I hate that. Dedicated to dear Fred Weasley, Remus and Tonks, Colin Creevey, and all those dear who are lost. Empty chairs will be left to recognise, remember and remind all who's left of your sacrifice.

The empty chairs

Empty Chairs At Empty Tables

There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone 

Here they talked of revolution
Here it was they lit the flame
Here they sang about tomorrow
And tomorrow never came. 

From the table in the corner
They could see a world reborn
And they rose with voices ringing
I can hear them now!
The very words that they had sung
Became their last communion
On the lowly barricade..
At dawn. 
Oh my friends, my friends forgive me. 

That I live and you are gone
There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on 

Phantom faces at the window
Phantom shadows on the floor
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will meet no more. 

Oh my friends, my friends, don't ask me
What your sacrifice was for
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will sing no more...

I Knew You Were Trouble

Guitar!

I knew you were trouble babe, but me being me, I ran to you like a moth to fire. 

If you'd guessed it's Swift I'm talking bout, then yes, you've won first prize. *hands you a medal*

I guess experience should have taught me to restrain myself especially when it comes to Swift and exams, but Dang it all, Taylor, but why release RED when I'm having my end of sems?

More on her later, since my Chemistry is niggling at me like an annoying puppy, but here's excerpts from my favourite song (so far) on her bedazzling new album. *swoons* *squeal* *faints*

All Too Well

"Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red. You used to be a little kid in glasses on a twin size bed. Your mother's telling stories bout you on the t-ball team, and you told me bout your past thinking your future was me."

I still can't listen to this song without feeling that pull in my chest. It always makes me wanna cry and start writing and drawing and abandoning all the studying I should be doing and just lie on the bed fighting the knot in my throat. My fav for the moment. 

" 'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night, we're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light. Down the stairs I was there, I remember it all too well"

Dancing in the night - the fairytale version

Maybe it's the trip down memory lane that appealed to me. It's so human, so life-like and not the fairytale romances we--I'm--used to. Dancing in the kitchen, in the night... It's like, we were so good together, you know? We used to have so much fun together. What happened? 

"And you called me up again just to break me like a promise. So casually cruel in the name of being honest. I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here 'cause I remember it all too well."

Cruelty comes in many forms

And that's the reason why I love her. Break me like a promise, casually cruel in the name of being honest. I feel for her. I do. But damn girl, why are you so good with words?

"Time won't fly it's like I'm paralysed by it. I'd like to be my own self again but I'm still trying to find it. After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own, now you mail back my things and I walk home alone.

You changed me, and I wanna go back to who I am before you but I can't

But you kept my old scarf from that very first week, 'cause it reminds you of innocence, and it smells like me. You can't get rid of it, 'cause you remember it all too well."

We are all innocent until our hearts are broken

How many girls have gone through all that? Every second, every minute, every day, every month we went through, the tears and regret, the missing you... All put into simple sentences, precisely concise, straight to the heart.

That innocence

You can't get rid of it, cause you remember it all too well. That pretty much sums up the whole song and album for me right now. Thanks Taylor, for making my teen years fabulous and unforgettable. 

And thank you, for giving me inspiration to write again. =)

Thanks for being pretty inspiring, Tay. =)

I Miss You

Shivering in the cold alone in the room
It makes me think of you

We used to run around in the rain playing catch me if you can

But now I'm alone 

And I miss you

It's a long long day these words making no sense

It makes me wanna run to you

We used to sit together right here plowing through homework

But now I'm alone

And I miss you

Music blaring cars honking on streets

People walking rushing all around me

But all I can do is to think of you

The moments that we had running down the streets

Wind in my hair the cold on my face

The rain pushing all your troubled frowns away

But when the cold seeps in

When the sinking feeling starts

When I realize you'd never be here anymore

All I could only do 

Is miss you

The leaves are turning red autumn wind is blowing

It turns everything red and orange

It reminds me of your dark blue eyes saying I'll love you forever

But now I'm alone

And I miss you

It's not rocket science but I can't understand why

You took back everything you said

Carefully crafted world it broke in a sec when you finally said

I have to leave

But I'll miss you

Music blaring cars honking on streets

You mailing all my things back to me

But all I can do is to think of you

How I thought it was magical the way you pulled my hand

Right into the dance into the rain

And we laughed as the rain washed all my makeup away

But when the cold seeps in

When the sinking feeling starts

When I realized I'm back to square one and a broken heart

All I could only do

Is miss you

Empty

Sometimes I get this terrible empty feeling out of nowhere. It's like, it creeps up on you slowly, stealthily, and then...

BOOM!

...you're left feeling like someone scooped out all your innards leaving you with one hollow casket.

I don't even know why it happens. It's like one moment you're munching happily away on a bag of potato chips, and the next... You're hit with an emotional atomic bomb. And it hurts. Suddenly there's this pull somewhere near the place your heart is, and the muscles twitch in protest. Your stomach flies up to your lungs and when you try to take a really deep breath you can't 'cause your stomach's in the way. Your heart starts beating rabbit-fast, and you're gulping for air like a fish out of water. Your brain's sending you little love letters saying : 'hey, it's time to feel unloved today. It's time to crave hugs. It's time to feel empty.' Twinges of skipped beats, blurred vision, salty water.

It's all too common now.

I swear, these few days I'm not right in the head. I need a really hard knock back to reality. But thing is, what do I need?

Maybe I just need something to fill me up again. Not food--god knows I've tried that--but something else to un-empty me.

Hang On

Nothing much.

Just the scariest interview looming over my head.

And the End-of-Sems.

And the A-Levels drawing nearer and nearer.

And missing home.

And it's always raining nowadays.

It feels like world's end.

So, yeah. Nothing much.

Just reminding myself to hang on.

'Cause everyone knows I'm just too chicken to let go.