Awakenings.

Author's sidenotes: Yes, I've finally changed the layout to a much simpler, bugfree one. Hooray!

*Touches keyboard awkwardly* Well ok, it's not as if I don't touch it every single day at work, but to blog? *Shakes head* Can't say I'm used to it anymore. I'm a lil... afraid.

These months past, I've gotten used to bottling my emotions inside me once again, that when they threaten to spill over, I usually direct them to an, more often than not, unhealthy outlet.

So yeah, even though the words now come easily to me as if I've never stopped blogging, I'm afraid. Petrified even, that my emotions might betray me, make me feel exposed, vulnerable.


I'd prefer to do without that particular piece of emotion.


What drove me to writing in particular today, was the foolishness of Man. How is it that God created Man who generally (not all, per se; I meant generally) only cherish what they've lost and can't have?

When it all boils down to a choice between what they've lost and what they can't have, Man, whose curiosity are piqued, will be more desirous of what they can't have; a toy that slipped past their fingers and noticed again when dangled infront of them.

And why is it that the sands of Time tend to lend a fairytale-like touch to a faded, distant memory?

I guess there's definitely two sides of a coin to mull over.

Through a series of events in my momentus life, I'd learnt to never take affairs of the heart for granted anymore.

Yet, albeit having tasted the sweetest drop of ambrosia that only Love can provide, I'd also ridden the dark unrelenting storm of depression and anguish.

I barely lived to tell the tale; My battle armour torn and tattered, damages irreparable.

Those experiences were what made me a coward who plead for Love to favour me with another opportunity at its ambrosia, but also afraid to fight for it.

In the past, I would step into Love's battlefield with my sword drawn from its sheath, the moment wedging a warcry out of me, but now, once the enemies appear, I would thrust my sword into the sand and get knocked down to my knees.

Past wounds and battle scars have affected me too greatly to revive the fervour I used to possess, yet the allure of charging back into the battlefield in search of that... something, is undeniable.

Yes, you could say I've at least ventured a try, but did that make me any different from the unappreciative Man I've described above?


No... We're all just fools for love. I'm still searching for that something to light up my path.


"…The heavens, as troubled with man’s act, Threatens his bloody stage: by the clock ‘t is day, And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp. Is ‘t night’s predominance, or the day’s shame, That darkness does the face of earth entomb, When living light should kiss it?"

P.S: By the way, to the person who requested me to change my MSN tagline if it was on him, to which I had to lie partially through my teeth(it was about him and also another man) to say it wasn't, here's this: I AM a better woman without you! :D