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4 years ago
May 7, 2010
Sometimes I think all I need is a little more self-confidence.
This week has been quite a hectic week for me.
Especially on Tuesday, when I spent about 2 and a half hours cooking when I invited some friends over. It was very exciting, considering that it was the first time I'm having people coming over to my apartment and them risking their appetite for the night.
Well, it turned out great. The food was good (at least it passed my own judgements) and I think everyone had a good time together.
I find that, life's so different now.
I climb out of bed early during the weekends, hike the hill up to uni even though there's no classes to use the internet. And on Sunday mornings, I go to the morning market to get a week's supply of vitamins and nutrition in the form of veggies, fruits and meat(I totally sound like a housewife right now).
This sort of "routine" goes on, day by day, week by week, and soon maybe, year by year?
I've heard of many people saying don't fall into routines. Because it becomes meaningless, doing the same thing everyday.
Well, what I think is that, I don't mind being in the routine,
As long as I know,
I'm in love with,
Every single moment of it.
This brings me the meaning of life everyday, and gives me the energy to do it again, and again.
I don't find it tiring to repeat myself unless I no longer have the passion for something.
Just like my love, why I still love people who have hurt me repeatedly, and after everything, I find myself repeating my love for them. My passion for my friends, my passion to give my best to someone. To everyone and everything I care about.
But you know,
I'm no saint.
And I think it's time you know that I'm done.
Done with everything that I don't deserve.
The cloth is like our friendship.
It gets older through the test of time.
And I'm done with covering up, sewing up the ugly patches on the cloth all alone, that was once velvet smooth, but now infested with holes as if the moths have eaten their way through faster than my hands could work its miracle through, to save this piece of fabric.
It's too much to work on, whether or not it's worth saving, it's just beyond my capabilities, my limits, my imperfections.
My hands bleed from all the pricks as I pick up the needle and start sewing.
I'm no bloody seamstress.
And I'm no bloody someone you can just push around to get what you want.
It's really clear what I want. And what I want is not you any more.
So, what more can I say?
Labels: Averages
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