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| "The worst battle is between what you know, and what you feel."
"She would like, all the same, to see him once more in order to tell him what a despicable creature she thought him.
But what did he matter?
Like a rich melody on a harp that rang in exultant arpeggios through the complicated harmonies of a symphony, one thought beat in her heart insistently.It was this thought which gave their exotic beauty to the rice-fields, which made a little smile break on her pale lips as a smooth-faced lad swung past her on his way to the market town with exultation in his carriage and audacity in his eyes, and which gave the magic of a tumultuous life to the cities she passed through. The city of the pestilence was a prison from which she was escaped, and she had never known before how exquisite was the blueness of the sky and what a joy there was in the bamboo copses that leaned with such an adorable grace across the causeway. Freedom! That was the thought that sung in her heart so that even though the future was dim, it was iridescent like the mist over the river where the morning sun fell upon it. Freedom! Not only freedom from a bond that irked, and a companionship which depressed her; freedom, not only from the death which had threatened, but freedom from the love that had degraded her; freedom from all spiritual ties, the freedom of a disembodied spirit, and with freedom, courage, and a valiant unconcern for whatever was to come."
YOU ARE STRONG; HE IS UGLY. SMILE DEAR! 
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| Air Supply is the love! One of the pros of listening to oldies is that I get approving smiles from my parents / grandparents, which makes me feel clever. 
I'm in such a holiday-ish mood now! In that I slept for ten hours last night, still haven't eaten breakfast, and I'm lazing on the sofa with Plappy half-upside down, talking to Annie who is making me laugh and hence getting weird looks from my sister who is also lazing around reading old Enid Blytons for the twentieth time. Oh goodness, what a long sentence. How rambly I'm getting! Like those old ladies in fluffy armchairs with fat cats and knitting needles. (Hahaha I vaguely remember Pearlyn telling me that she's going to end up like that, and her cats will cough hairballs at her, or SOMETHING.)
I'm proud of myself because I don't feel lonely despite the lack of friends. Lailin, the Nats and Kurty are STILL at Princeton (-jealoussssss-), Vicky-wicky and Deki-Guany are 'raping' Malaysia, and my sister's at some random camp or other. But nevermind, I shall spend time with friends like Sarah, Pearlyn, the oh-so-affable Vicky & Annie.♥. EE also wants my attention very much but NOIMINDENILEGOODBYEEE. Yes, so. It's eleven thirty! I should probably get breakfast, or abandon all thought of it altogether. Abandon reminds me of a pirate! I like pirates. Okay, food.
I want to go to the sea. (Not only because I was reminded about pirates)
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| It feels as if I haven't updated for the longest time ever, but it's really only been a week. An unbelievably tiring week, at that! I've been rushing around so much, sleeping so late and waking up so early...holidays always feel busier than school days, don't they?
Anyway, I'm glad most of the rush is over. I'm recovering from the hustle-and-bustle (I think those words look like they ought to be joint together, don't you?) of life now. It's a perfectly lovely Sunday afternoon...breezy and quiet and sunny like only Sundays can be. I've a good mind to skip down to the park and recline on the grass till evening, with only my book and the sky for company. But my feet don't wish to move just yet, and I think I'd better indulge them a little because I've been shamelessly mistreating them these few days.
It's nearly five and I'm feeling a little peckish (huge appetite, I know!)...a cookie and a glass of ice-cold apple juice beckons, I think! Plappy, you shall get of my lap and be replaced by my new book, goodbye!
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| The rain that was due at three this afternoon finally came in drips while I was having late dinner. I always imagine cold, drizzly nights to be misty nights simply because they're so much more storybook-like. And misty nights are somehow always lonely nights. And cold, drizzly, misty, lonely nights (not to mention tired nights, and dreading-having-to-wake-up-early-tomorrow nights) are depressing nights where I can't help but feel rather useless. Sarah's right, how many of the things that we do nowadays actually make us feel good about ourselves? I think every day's just a further confirmation that I am, crudely put, a failure at life. I hate being so helpless, I hate feeling needy and dependent on everyone else, but every time I try not to be something bad happens. How many times have I resolved to learn how to read maps, to stop getting lost, to take good care of my stuff (I've become increasingly careless this year), to refrain from asking stupid questions and basically to rely on myself?  Life is complicated. I wish it were that easy to just stay away from everything that makes me feel bad but that's just not possible. -HUGE SIGH-
Needs sleep, a feel-good book and a hug.
(Maybe I just imagined the rain, which makes this night...what?)
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| "Trapped between the urge to write a simply diary account of her day's experiences, and the ambition to make something greater of them that would be polished, self-contained and obscure, she sat for many minutes frowining at her sheet of paper and its infantile quotation and did not write another word. Actions she thought she could describe well enough, and she had the hang of dialogue. She could do the woods in winter, and the grimness of a castle wall. But how to do feelings? All very well to write, She felt sad, or describe what a sad person might do, but what of sadness itself, how was that put across so it could be felt in all its lowering immediacy? Even harder was the threat, or the confusion of feeling contradictory things."
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