"Much was won and much more was lost."
The past week has been the ultimate trial and most bitter week of these past months. It was a, in a way, appropriate ending for this chapter in my life and so on to the next.
Everyone enjoys the success and outcomes but never experience the pitfalls in that particular journey. It is like watching Lord Of The Rings at the beginning where the Ring and it's evils have to be destroyed, and then fast forwarding to the part where Smeagol falls into the pit with the Ring. People sigh and forget the fallen; then go on to cheer and celebrate the winners. But the effort put in, the tears, blood, sweat and the drama are still the same. It is a 50-50 chanced situation which decides who goes on and who goes back.
Am I happy? Apathetic, more like it. The congratulations ring like empty words on my ears. Of course, the sincerity of friends' wishes do not go unappreciated, but this success feels empty. the medal much lighter and less meaningful.
O, I may be rumoured to be arrogant with the win, but I am not. I never will be, as the journey was not worth the while. I have never given up, as people would like to say, it was more of a slight of words, seeking for reassurance. The excuses, you label them, are just mere expressions of the truth, but you, O wisemen, have not viewed the deeper meaning behind those words, but instead choose to interpret them using that tainted spyglass in your deep pockets. The words you threw at us were just passed off as jokes, whereas any jokes on our side were accounted for as insults. It should be the other way around, but you may continue. If all these make you wisemen enjoy deeper slumber in your chambers at night, so be it. I experience sleepless nights for a reason, which I believe, will present itself to me in the future. Go ahead, leave behind you, the trail of people whom you've wronged, wisemen, and see not that the people you now surround yourself with, will soon wrong you and be wronged by you. It is a writhing, broiling snake pit that you are in, filled with treachery and stomachfuls of poison. I cannot laugh at this pitiful situation. I cannot bring myself to, despite being the victim of your tormentations. Go to your temples, wisemen, and launch into speech about how we share the same blessings from the same God. But, hear this, my faith and yours are worlds apart. Mine may be shaken as an apple tree, ripe for the picking, and yours stands steadfast strong, like a looming tower in a gale. But, I continue to bear fruit, after my branches have been stripped bare, but you, you O wisemen, shall remain barren, a land scorched by blasphemy and lies, gifts of Judas.
I am glad, to leave. I hope, sooner than I think.
Goodbye, old friends. Welcome the new, Honesty, Truth & Principles.
Daily Epidoses: Not-so-daily doses of life. Bite-sized! (most of the time) :)
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Embarassing Moments #20x - Singapore Edition.
You'd think that people would grow out and run out of possible embarassing scenarios as time goes by, but oh no, it is not True.
I said 'Thank you' to a vending machine, in front of a long line of irritated (and hopefully slightly bemused) Singaporeans, when I finally figured out how to get my drink out of the machine.
***********************************************************
And, just now, the phone in the serviced apartment rang, so I chirpily answered, saying,
"American Idol Auditions."
Followed by awkward silence, and a slightly hesitant voice saying,
"Good evening ma'am. Er.... the door to your room is open. The guard was doing his rounds and we'd just like to inform you."
*MAJOR EMBARASSED LAUGH from me*
"Ooer, thanks. It's ok. I've got friends coming up and down so no worries."
(I wonder how much sense that sentence made now that I'm typing it out.
Oh well. Maybe it's the lack of sleep.
Or maybe it's just me.
Til my next encounter. :)
*skedaddles off to a cold bed, surrounded by glassware & linens*
I said 'Thank you' to a vending machine, in front of a long line of irritated (and hopefully slightly bemused) Singaporeans, when I finally figured out how to get my drink out of the machine.
***********************************************************
And, just now, the phone in the serviced apartment rang, so I chirpily answered, saying,
"American Idol Auditions."
Followed by awkward silence, and a slightly hesitant voice saying,
"Good evening ma'am. Er.... the door to your room is open. The guard was doing his rounds and we'd just like to inform you."
*MAJOR EMBARASSED LAUGH from me*
"Ooer, thanks. It's ok. I've got friends coming up and down so no worries."
(I wonder how much sense that sentence made now that I'm typing it out.
Oh well. Maybe it's the lack of sleep.
Or maybe it's just me.
Til my next encounter. :)
*skedaddles off to a cold bed, surrounded by glassware & linens*
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Tinky & Life Now in General
Well, Tinky is here to stay!! No more sleepless nights thinking of how I'll make do without that little brown fatty downstairs. She btw has a new mansion and despite her tearing up her floor mats (retiling as Ian puts it) I am so happy that she's here to stay!
Well, as time goes by, D-Day of course draws nearer. And yes, I am excited and scared and nervous and eager at the same time. I cannot wait for it to be over! Of course, if results go down south, then I would wish that I could've done it over. Ah well, the fickle human mind strikes again.
I can't wait for it to be over so I can get back to concentrating on my dissertation, especially after the amount of dirty looks I've been getting by my lecturers of late. Won't say why. :-?
Today is Ian's mom's birthday and we took her to El Cerdo's where the food is and always will be aaaaahhhhmaaazing. MMM. Good stuff. Well deserved after I realised that I've only had coffee everyday. And only 2 breadrolls on Monday. Scary I know.
It's so ironic that we work in the kitchen and are surrounded by food, but we don't even eat. We eat after we've only fed everyone else. Once I get home, no mood to eat because I'm so darned tired. And besides, you can only smell garlic and onion frying that many times in a day. Yes, I know, it's a beeyewtiful smell, but when you bring it into your car, your home and your dog sniffs at you endlessly (you start to question whether she really loves you or loves your smell), it gets so tiring when that familiar "scent" haunts you day in day out.
Being in a place (not your home) from 7am-1am everyday is a killer.
Yes, I can be workaholic, but after this last stint, I am going to
Put. My. Feet. Up.
And Go. For. A. Holiday.
And a looooong painful foot massage. Screw the corniness and throw in the scented candles and chanting lady. BRRING IT!
Brah.. it's all good though in the hemisphere. (OK, this is going to be so random. This is how my brain jumps from one thought to the other. People call it ADD, I call it.... Awesome Multitasking Neverending Trains of Thought. That, abbreviated, would be....... AMNTT. Yeeks. Sounds like a bomb. Hm..)
So yeah, one scary thing that has majorly shifted in the past years, decades or so... Now everyone is saying that human activity does not contribute to high levels of carbon emission blahblah.. so the politically correct words are "Climate Change" not "Global Warming". Maybe it rocked people's world back then when they said the world is round, not flat. Maybe this is it. But isn't it scary that the whole world is rearranging itself. Cultures, civilizations will be overthrown as cold becomes hot and hot becomes cold. People will suffer from drought, floods and even more "natural" disasters. Having seen the movie "Time Machine" it's quite cathartic when you see the earth renew itself. But from our point, its not quite the happy ending we'd want I guess. *shivers*
Anyways, I'm just blaring out thoughts as they come, and just whiling my time away, while I wait for Men In Tights to load. Mel Brooks rocks my world! He just takes classics and dunks them in tubfuls of irreverence. Pah. We need more people who think like him. Pure JENIOUS!
Oh yeah, another thing, which has been making me wonder a bit, Dr. Rod read my blog, because he has this way of finding out blogs which has his name innit, or rather people who talk about him. And the funny thing was, I came into class, plopped down on the chair, breathless as usual. And he suddenly mentions, rather loudly, I must say, "I read your blog Julia. You were talking about me." And my classmates Chloe and Cassandra, sisters, both turned back, and their faces were full of... pure horror. Big O's. They were stage whispering, "OMG, Julia. You didn't. He can find stuff like this!" And he continued, saying that he hoped he hadn't offended me by saying what he said. My mind was racing, due to my aforesaid AMNTT condition, I forgot what I had said. And lol, right after that class, I went to the com lab to check my blog. Haha. It was about the QM book and all.. Anyways, he said he wanted to comment but couldn't find the comment page. And I was too embarassed to tell him what it was called. Maybe that's why people do not comment (I guess).. It's actually that pink writing at the end titled, "Soddied Pants". Imagine if I had said that out in class...
*Imaginary conversation*
DR: I wanted to comment, but couldn't find the comment link.
Me: Oh, it's actually labelled differently Dr.Rod.
DR: Oh yeah? What is it called?
Me: It's been changed to... er... rm... Soddied Pants.
*probable prediction of massive silence that follows*
Again Julia gets herself into another embarassing situation.
But, he did mention that in class, that you should be careful of what you put on the Internet because no matter how long gone we are, it will still be there, floating out there somewhere on someone's space of WWW. Scary and true.
Oh, yeah, which brings me to the point of which everyone has been emailing me non-stop, this email which shows this Spanish girl, with huge Ta-ta's posing in bikinis, and then ending up dead.
Seems some guy kept hassling her for sex, and she refused him. So he got pissed off, found her home address on Facebook and then killed her. Thing was, they didn't mention who he was, or whether they caught him. And she was dead in her bikini that she kept posing in, in those pictures. Hmm.... I don't know, it just sounds weird. Like it was, just so coincidental. So much for my analytical and critical skills ay...
Following that barrage of emails, my mom comes and stays with me, and asks me whether I put my address and contact details on Facebook. HELL NO. I already have enough weird friend requests without having that many right ones *lol* and, it is general Internetiquette that you do not ever put any super personal details online. I mean, who hasn't Facebook-stalked someone else (cmon... we all do that at a certain point of time to certain people. *ahem* Mine was for conversation fodder.) and it maybe fun for you, but imagine if other people were doing that to you? No more marketing needed! Just throw a celebrity in and give 'em a Facebook account.
There was another theory that the CIA created Facebook to monitor and trace down people's activities. Plausible, as most theories can be. THEY have many ways of monitoring, controlling and encouraging human behavioural patterns.
Which brings me to this. Just the other night, due to my late schedules, I always get back quite late at night, and I needed badly to withdraw some money from the ATM. Previously, CIMB was always 24/7 as opposed to Maybank which closes at 12am. I basically went on an ATM hunt, and was swearing to graciousness after an hour. And, check this out, HSBC, Standard Chartered and OCBC only accept ATM cards from each other. And silly me thought MEPS was pretty universal. Gosh. So yeah, swearing like hell, I got back home, cashless and miserable. I told Ian, "Stupid banks and government. Trying to cut down on late night activities by restricting money-withdrawals after 12am. So people can't rob people and other people can't take money out to do whatever is deemed wrong/immoral by the government." Ian gave me a look out of this world. He was like, "Hey, I never thought of it that way. You're right." Random thought(lessness, in this case) can sometimes squeeze the weirdest outta me.
OOH. Reading the words, 'scones', 'macaroons' and 'pies' just bring out an Enid Blyton longing in me. I think she instilled the love of food in me. Don't believe me? Just go read all her descriptions of picnics and mealtimes in her books. Gosh, she really takes her pagespace seriously by filling it up with a detailed list of food the children bring for normal day picnics. What about the Enchanted Tree? When the different lands come by, they have food in all of them, some not really pleasant, but some absolutely divine. *mouthwatering*
So yeah, I get excited when people mention the words, scones, macaroons, crumpets and cucumber sandwiches. And I've been going on and on for the past few months trying to find a wonderful place to have a proper full-blown English Tea. A recent mag cover of Singapore just fulfilled my wonderings/wanderings. I saw all the pretty pictures and the lovely descriptions and I was like.... "DAMN. How much is tea going to cost in the Ritz or St.Regis??" But they all look so lavly. Back in Penang, when Winter Warmers first opened, they had a real good thing going, with their Afternoon Tea for Two, with the quaint little pots and teacups as well as dainty sandwiches and teacakes. Now, I think they've kinda died down, which is so sad, because, I loved all their food and maybe, people just don't appreciate stuff like this anymore. I mean, yeah, Marie Antoinette brought a revolution of macaroon, Laduree crazed yuppies, but what else? What about a white pavilion in the midst of a pristine lawn with rose bushes, a snooty butler in white gloves, bringing endless arrays of cakes and sandwiches, with strong, hot tea steeping in delicate bone-china pots with their accompanying teacups?
*blink*
I know, I'm not British. But that is so quintessential to what I grew up reading and experiencing when I was a kid. And yes, Ian has broadcasted the fact that I thought I was British right up until the age of 6 or so. Well, to set the record straight, I only got my heart broken when I was slightly older, about 10 or so. And no, it was not because my mom only bought me a mirror then. But it finally sank in, when I filled in that green report card which tracks your wanted-career-changes and weight and what not. I read under Race: Chinese and it finally hit me between my slanted eyes. I was not like those children that Enid kept talking about. I would eat Roti Babi with black vinegar and sliced chilis, instead of cucumber sandwiches with cool cucumber slices, salt and new butter. Damnit. It was a very emotional time in my life, but I have eventually faced it. Ian says that when I sleeptalk, I actually sound very, very British. o.O
Who knows? Maybe I was a forgotten British girl, who has a skin pigmentation problem. Besides the AMNTT. LOL.
Well, off to celebrate the fact of me being Malaysian-Baba Nyonya-Chinese-Thai-British-AMNTT and all that jazz.
And whoever you are out there.... go soddy some pants if you like. :)
*scampers off to enjoy a Caramel Macchiato & a hot buttery scone*
Well, as time goes by, D-Day of course draws nearer. And yes, I am excited and scared and nervous and eager at the same time. I cannot wait for it to be over! Of course, if results go down south, then I would wish that I could've done it over. Ah well, the fickle human mind strikes again.
I can't wait for it to be over so I can get back to concentrating on my dissertation, especially after the amount of dirty looks I've been getting by my lecturers of late. Won't say why. :-?
Today is Ian's mom's birthday and we took her to El Cerdo's where the food is and always will be aaaaahhhhmaaazing. MMM. Good stuff. Well deserved after I realised that I've only had coffee everyday. And only 2 breadrolls on Monday. Scary I know.
It's so ironic that we work in the kitchen and are surrounded by food, but we don't even eat. We eat after we've only fed everyone else. Once I get home, no mood to eat because I'm so darned tired. And besides, you can only smell garlic and onion frying that many times in a day. Yes, I know, it's a beeyewtiful smell, but when you bring it into your car, your home and your dog sniffs at you endlessly (you start to question whether she really loves you or loves your smell), it gets so tiring when that familiar "scent" haunts you day in day out.
Being in a place (not your home) from 7am-1am everyday is a killer.
Yes, I can be workaholic, but after this last stint, I am going to
Put. My. Feet. Up.
And Go. For. A. Holiday.
And a looooong painful foot massage. Screw the corniness and throw in the scented candles and chanting lady. BRRING IT!
Brah.. it's all good though in the hemisphere. (OK, this is going to be so random. This is how my brain jumps from one thought to the other. People call it ADD, I call it.... Awesome Multitasking Neverending Trains of Thought. That, abbreviated, would be....... AMNTT. Yeeks. Sounds like a bomb. Hm..)
So yeah, one scary thing that has majorly shifted in the past years, decades or so... Now everyone is saying that human activity does not contribute to high levels of carbon emission blahblah.. so the politically correct words are "Climate Change" not "Global Warming". Maybe it rocked people's world back then when they said the world is round, not flat. Maybe this is it. But isn't it scary that the whole world is rearranging itself. Cultures, civilizations will be overthrown as cold becomes hot and hot becomes cold. People will suffer from drought, floods and even more "natural" disasters. Having seen the movie "Time Machine" it's quite cathartic when you see the earth renew itself. But from our point, its not quite the happy ending we'd want I guess. *shivers*
Anyways, I'm just blaring out thoughts as they come, and just whiling my time away, while I wait for Men In Tights to load. Mel Brooks rocks my world! He just takes classics and dunks them in tubfuls of irreverence. Pah. We need more people who think like him. Pure JENIOUS!
Oh yeah, another thing, which has been making me wonder a bit, Dr. Rod read my blog, because he has this way of finding out blogs which has his name innit, or rather people who talk about him. And the funny thing was, I came into class, plopped down on the chair, breathless as usual. And he suddenly mentions, rather loudly, I must say, "I read your blog Julia. You were talking about me." And my classmates Chloe and Cassandra, sisters, both turned back, and their faces were full of... pure horror. Big O's. They were stage whispering, "OMG, Julia. You didn't. He can find stuff like this!" And he continued, saying that he hoped he hadn't offended me by saying what he said. My mind was racing, due to my aforesaid AMNTT condition, I forgot what I had said. And lol, right after that class, I went to the com lab to check my blog. Haha. It was about the QM book and all.. Anyways, he said he wanted to comment but couldn't find the comment page. And I was too embarassed to tell him what it was called. Maybe that's why people do not comment (I guess).. It's actually that pink writing at the end titled, "Soddied Pants". Imagine if I had said that out in class...
*Imaginary conversation*
DR: I wanted to comment, but couldn't find the comment link.
Me: Oh, it's actually labelled differently Dr.Rod.
DR: Oh yeah? What is it called?
Me: It's been changed to... er... rm... Soddied Pants.
*probable prediction of massive silence that follows*
Again Julia gets herself into another embarassing situation.
But, he did mention that in class, that you should be careful of what you put on the Internet because no matter how long gone we are, it will still be there, floating out there somewhere on someone's space of WWW. Scary and true.
Oh, yeah, which brings me to the point of which everyone has been emailing me non-stop, this email which shows this Spanish girl, with huge Ta-ta's posing in bikinis, and then ending up dead.
Seems some guy kept hassling her for sex, and she refused him. So he got pissed off, found her home address on Facebook and then killed her. Thing was, they didn't mention who he was, or whether they caught him. And she was dead in her bikini that she kept posing in, in those pictures. Hmm.... I don't know, it just sounds weird. Like it was, just so coincidental. So much for my analytical and critical skills ay...
Following that barrage of emails, my mom comes and stays with me, and asks me whether I put my address and contact details on Facebook. HELL NO. I already have enough weird friend requests without having that many right ones *lol* and, it is general Internetiquette that you do not ever put any super personal details online. I mean, who hasn't Facebook-stalked someone else (cmon... we all do that at a certain point of time to certain people. *ahem* Mine was for conversation fodder.) and it maybe fun for you, but imagine if other people were doing that to you? No more marketing needed! Just throw a celebrity in and give 'em a Facebook account.
There was another theory that the CIA created Facebook to monitor and trace down people's activities. Plausible, as most theories can be. THEY have many ways of monitoring, controlling and encouraging human behavioural patterns.
Which brings me to this. Just the other night, due to my late schedules, I always get back quite late at night, and I needed badly to withdraw some money from the ATM. Previously, CIMB was always 24/7 as opposed to Maybank which closes at 12am. I basically went on an ATM hunt, and was swearing to graciousness after an hour. And, check this out, HSBC, Standard Chartered and OCBC only accept ATM cards from each other. And silly me thought MEPS was pretty universal. Gosh. So yeah, swearing like hell, I got back home, cashless and miserable. I told Ian, "Stupid banks and government. Trying to cut down on late night activities by restricting money-withdrawals after 12am. So people can't rob people and other people can't take money out to do whatever is deemed wrong/immoral by the government." Ian gave me a look out of this world. He was like, "Hey, I never thought of it that way. You're right." Random thought(lessness, in this case) can sometimes squeeze the weirdest outta me.
OOH. Reading the words, 'scones', 'macaroons' and 'pies' just bring out an Enid Blyton longing in me. I think she instilled the love of food in me. Don't believe me? Just go read all her descriptions of picnics and mealtimes in her books. Gosh, she really takes her pagespace seriously by filling it up with a detailed list of food the children bring for normal day picnics. What about the Enchanted Tree? When the different lands come by, they have food in all of them, some not really pleasant, but some absolutely divine. *mouthwatering*
So yeah, I get excited when people mention the words, scones, macaroons, crumpets and cucumber sandwiches. And I've been going on and on for the past few months trying to find a wonderful place to have a proper full-blown English Tea. A recent mag cover of Singapore just fulfilled my wonderings/wanderings. I saw all the pretty pictures and the lovely descriptions and I was like.... "DAMN. How much is tea going to cost in the Ritz or St.Regis??" But they all look so lavly. Back in Penang, when Winter Warmers first opened, they had a real good thing going, with their Afternoon Tea for Two, with the quaint little pots and teacups as well as dainty sandwiches and teacakes. Now, I think they've kinda died down, which is so sad, because, I loved all their food and maybe, people just don't appreciate stuff like this anymore. I mean, yeah, Marie Antoinette brought a revolution of macaroon, Laduree crazed yuppies, but what else? What about a white pavilion in the midst of a pristine lawn with rose bushes, a snooty butler in white gloves, bringing endless arrays of cakes and sandwiches, with strong, hot tea steeping in delicate bone-china pots with their accompanying teacups?
*blink*
I know, I'm not British. But that is so quintessential to what I grew up reading and experiencing when I was a kid. And yes, Ian has broadcasted the fact that I thought I was British right up until the age of 6 or so. Well, to set the record straight, I only got my heart broken when I was slightly older, about 10 or so. And no, it was not because my mom only bought me a mirror then. But it finally sank in, when I filled in that green report card which tracks your wanted-career-changes and weight and what not. I read under Race: Chinese and it finally hit me between my slanted eyes. I was not like those children that Enid kept talking about. I would eat Roti Babi with black vinegar and sliced chilis, instead of cucumber sandwiches with cool cucumber slices, salt and new butter. Damnit. It was a very emotional time in my life, but I have eventually faced it. Ian says that when I sleeptalk, I actually sound very, very British. o.O
Who knows? Maybe I was a forgotten British girl, who has a skin pigmentation problem. Besides the AMNTT. LOL.
Well, off to celebrate the fact of me being Malaysian-Baba Nyonya-Chinese-Thai-British-AMNTT and all that jazz.
And whoever you are out there.... go soddy some pants if you like. :)
*scampers off to enjoy a Caramel Macchiato & a hot buttery scone*
Monday, April 5, 2010
I'm Yours
I know that we haven't the time to spend with you... it's never about the money TinkyWinky...It's about you and what's best for you.
Do we really know what's good for you?
How do we reconcile the fact that we love you so much that it would break our hearts to see you go, with you having a future with someone who can give you what you really need?
Are we being selfish by wanting to keep you? Or are we being selfish by saying that it's best for you?
But I wonder, when that person takes you by your leash and leads you away... will your little doggy heart be breaking just as ours will be?
Will you spend nights thinking about what we're doing just as we will be thinking about you?
All the countless times you looked back when one of us walked slower than you to see if we were still there.
All the times you would walk circles around us and make sure that we were safe.
All the moments you growled your little doggy growl when there were strangers coming too near us..
All the times you ran away from your favourite treat/toy just to check on the sounds that were coming from outside the house.
I want to say we can but... can we?
When I go off for my training, who will care for you?
When Ian goes overseas on jobs, who will be there for you?
I hate seeing you cooped up all day, watching the rear end of our cars disappear from the borders of the gate.
I hate hearing you whine and bark when we drive off, busy, thinking about the day ahead at work.
I hate that you're outside the house nowadays, because I want you inside the house, where you belong, as part of us.
I hate talking to you now, because the more I say to you, the more I will miss you when you're gone.
I hate coming home to your lovely floppy ears, melting green-hazel eyes and white jigsaw-piece chest because it's only a reminder of what I will never see again.
I hate coming home and seeing you shake the entire cage by just wagging your adorable tail, because next time, that will be just an empty spot, with no life, no sound, no you.
I wouldn't mind sacrificing by letting you in the house. I will make the necessary adjustments by taking all precious and fragile things away from your destructive doggy jaws just so you'll be happy running around, being part of the house, because you are part of the family TinkyWinky.
I don't mind having a golden spots on the grass, because, I can water it away and grass grows back again.It's only 1.50 a patch. But the seams of my heart will never grow back again if I lose you TinkyWinky.
I don't want you ending up as a mere breeding machine for a money-minded businessman. He might not treat you with love, the love that a wonderful dog like you is worthy of.
Who knows? The family you go to, might not be as tolerant of your mischievious behaviour as we are.
I wouldn't want anyone else to punish you but us, because, I do not know how hard they'll smack you or what other means they might take to make you realise your wrongdoggydoings.
Don't go away, StinkyTinky. We can make it if we try. I really know we can.
I hope Ian will get over his OCD-ness and just give and take a little. We have always cleaned up after you, and chased after you, despite your proneness to 'airing our dirty laundry in public'. Literally.
I hope that he realises that having a pet is like having a kid. A real home is never pristine, clean and presentable. It always has pets, kids, dirt, noise, bills, furniture, stains and most important of all, Love.
If a home were to be always beautiful, presentable, squeaky clean and not a hair out of place, it is not a home. It is a showroom.
I will never abandon you Tinky. But it is not my choice to make.
Everyday I come home, I am so afraid I will not see you sitting there, wagging your tail, because you know the sound of my car and just can't wait to hear our voices.
I always smile, seeing your two little baby teeth stuck on the note on our wall of fame with the date of when you started losing your milk teeth. You're on our Wall of Fame, Tinky. OUR wall.
I did say that once I am back from Singapore, I do not want to see you there. Because it would drive me crazy seeing someone take you away, right in front of my eyes.
But if it is really the best thing for YOU, then I guess it is inevitable.
Maybe, if things were to turn out best, you would forget us the minute you left the house. You would actually run towards your new owner, away from us, the minute you saw him/her. If you were to be completely animalistic and only have loyalty to the hand that feeds you. No memories of your puppyhood, of last month, or even just the last few moments when you were still ours.
I sing "I'm Yours" to you every night, not only because it is your favourite song that puts you to sleep, but because of the verse,
"There's no need to complicate, Our time is short, This is our fate, I'm yours."
And really, you have made me yours.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)