Random Ramblings

Our generation is the one leading the way into this world which is shrinking at an amazing rate.

Ten years ago, technology seemed light years away. Now we can chat with someone half way around the globe with instant messages, we can have a voice conversation. Hell, we can even see that person using video messaging. It’s made having friends from everywhere easy. Or at least as easy as it could be.

Want to know that the hardest things about having friends with a 12 hour time difference from you

• The timing will almost never be right
• If both parties are busy as can be people, the time will NEVER be right

And the single most important thing – No matter how much you talk, how much many emails you exchange to keep up with each others lives; you cannot touch the person.

I just watched an episode of Grey’s Anatomy—it has hit a nerve. The denial and connecting nerve I’ve tried so long to hide and ignore. I will always be the one to say people need other people, yet I will keep pushing people away from me. One of the reasons why I throw myself into work is so I will have less time for anything else. It’s an inbuilt defensive mechanism developed from young.

I have a friend who hurts me so dreadfully. It’s not her fault, technically. I’ve always maintained that I am always here for her, regardless of anything. My phone is always on, she has both my numbers. All she has to do is call, and I’ll do almost anything for her. Yet, I still feel I am on the fringes of her life. She doesn’t call me when she needs a friend, I only hear from her much later, normally after the damage is done.

Yet I’ve never questioned my being there for her. I have on the other hand questioned if I’ve been a good friend to her, or if I’m a good friend in general. The friends I would like to touch at this very moment are 24 hours or more by plane away. Sometimes I think I care about my best friend, so far away more than I do about the friends that are right here in front of me.

People have called me a bitch, others say I have ice for blood or a stone heart. Some of these people I hold close to my heart – yet they don’t see me for who I really am. Then again, I been hiding who I really am for so long, that sometimes I am not even sure of that myself. It’s true, those “horrible” accusations are true. I am a bitch, I do have ice for blood, my heart is made of stone – but I am also a person who hides everything else.

So do you really know me?

Are we really connected?

Today I got “stalked” again. Some guy waited for me outside the ladies and even tried to follow me. I managed to hide in the crowd and lost him pretty quickly. That would be the only thing that happened quickly.

You can be surrounded by hundreds of people and feel utterly lonely. I was hiding in a throng of people in a major shopping mall, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling of being all by myself trying to escape from the person.

It is hours after the incident, and I’m still shaking. You think talking about it will help. But it doesn’t really help a lot. There isn’t a way to convey the fear and the anxiety that is coursing throughout the body. No matter how you try to describe it – you just can’t and it makes you just feel worse, inadequate.

As the appointed time draws close, the heart beats faster, the mind rushing ahead dreaming of the beauty that will soon present itself, one gets more jittery caused probably by the excitement running through the body. When the first firework is set off, goose-bumps quickly rush to the surface and then one sees the sky light up – absolutely astounding.

It gives a natural high that not many things can. One can only just watch from below, admiring it, soaking it in and enjoying the moment. For those ten to fifteen minutes, you are transported to a world very different from the one we live in. The adrenaline pumps thru your body and the wonderment of the situation is the only thing you will think of, every other thought, worry or confusion just melts away like it never existed in the first place.

Thank you for the lovely comments for the previous set of firework images. There is more to come. It’s been a busy busy week!

Most will insist that it isn't the physical that we call home. Yet, for many a physical house is what we refer to us home.

I got pulled, kicking and screaming (maybe not that dramatic), from my physical sanctuary/home at a young age. For years, home would be referring to my childhood home.

When I moved in with grandma later on, that small but cosy apartment soon became my new home. Even now, years after I've moved out, I still have the habit of referring to my grandma's place as the converted 'home' title. I've caught myself on many occasions referring to my living quarters as house, the place I live, “I'm going back”, my room.

These days, I suddenly have another home. My grandma now stays with my Uncle – and I've been going over to spend time with my grandma pretty often. For one, I find it hard to sleep in many places – even in my own room a good portion of the time. But each time I go over, I nod off to dreamland with such ease; whether its on the couch or the cold hardwood floor – utterly out of character for someone who is so uncomfortable in places.

As much as I know one day I would have a brick residence to call Home (again), I'm glad my uncle's home gives me a great sense of belonging, protection and peace of mind for now.

I always thought looking back on the times I cried would make me laugh;
But I never knew looking back on the times I laughed would make me cry.
- Unknown