I guess I probably wouldn't remember this should one day I read this entry, but the decision to write it down shouldn't be premised on whether I will, or will not remember it.

The fine line about trying and about trying enough is usually hard to tell until you cross the line to the other boundary, more often than not it's trying-more-than-what-constitutes-to-enough.

So about a year of thinking about it, and finally trying, till I realised it didn't take too much to constitute to enough, that has since called upon me.

Sometimes one of the hardest things is to give up. I know, because some other times, the hardest thing is to hang on. Either way you got to know when to give up or how to hang on (until you give up). I don't know which one is harder, but usually the best decision is the reverse of the situation you face. And that's the hardest then.

D - that's how I remember. So until, if ever, then, let's say goodbye here.

There is always a summer we want to go back to. It is a feeling, rather than because the summer/summer place is too perfect.

It's the feeling of feeling free, of feeling alive, feeling the warmness (or actually coldness) of the sun and wind, its the feeling of being out there, it's the feeling of I-know-this-is-it. 

The summers that I want to go back to, I realise, all the 12-hours, to where I think I saw myself in the world.
I really miss you.

Hope to see you soon.

Sometimes one needs to find motivation to carry on, yet other times like now, things get too busy to even need motivation because all we can do is to roll on. 

Yet then again what is the reason for being busy, sometimes there isn't a logical answer to that. 

What follows is, that no matter where I am, getting/being stuck is such a scary thing. That's why I never really enjoy being in a cinema. Stuck in the dark. A good thing that I enjoy plane rides - though it must be a window seat.

And then, from having the luxury of weekend cooking to jus being contended with squeezing all the time I have to do my research (research sounds so nice but it's about holiday planning in short), that's how recent days have become. 

Countdown: a year to go!

Tomorrow will be the last swim in a month and I hope it's a good swim. While it seems to take more momentum off swimming, every year it seems to give me a month of more time for other things that I like, because there are jus so many things that I like to do.

The little hope that seems to diminish with time. That not having it seems the best. 

It's been a while that I sit down to write something longer than a tweet. Even sometimes a tweet of 160 characters seem long, and there is abundant of things that you can do while online. And when one keeps rolling on, sometimes there is nothing up there in the mind/heart that I feel that I must have lost my voice to emptiness.