love, liss.

I still miss you so much. Please come and talk to me for one last time? People say sometimes they come to you in your dreams. So why won't you come to me in mine? I don't remember the last thing you said to me. So please, come and talk to me, at least once. I miss you terribly. But I promise, I'll make something out of this life. This life won't go to waste. 

3 weeks later I still have these pieces, these fragments of all that happened. The things I saw. A week before, mum texted me and told me that you were sick. We went out later that night, I had a few drinks and I started crying. Here I am, in a foreign place surrounded by so many people who don't know me, who don't care about me. The people I love the most are so far away. You're one of them. You must've been really sick. Else she wouldn't tell me about it. That night I was really homesick. A week later, I'm sitting in my room, looking up the earliest flights back to Penang. My parents know how long the flights are, they were worried about me. I knew I had to go back. "But what if she gets better? You can't be coming home every time somebody falls sick." As much as I hated to admit it.. I guess I can't. I knew I had to this time. No question about it. Something people say about a gut feeling? That's what I had. Turned out to be the be...

"You can't put a picture on beauty. Beauty isn't appearance, it's personality."

I just had to share. Absolutely HAD to. :)

I might've said this before, but I'll say it again. These are only my opinions, thoughts I gathered from what I've seen. The thoughts I have today may change tomorrow. I'm not the same person I was yesterday. So there.  . I'm on the bus, returning home from NY. Not sure if it's a girl thing, but I'm constantly thinking about things whenever I'm alone, or when I'm simply not talking or listening to others.  Here I am, thinking about how crazy the past week has been. How my world shattered into pieces within 2 days, with barely any warning. And how, 5 days later, I'm still grieving. Alone. Yet.. I'm happier than most of my peers. Broken, but thankful. I can't help but wonder.. Why is it that the older I grow, the harder it is to come across happy people, or rather, people who're thankful, people who don't feel entitled?  Is this what age does to most people? It turns people cynical, angry, hurt, unforgiving, un...