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Dreams are what you wake up from.

14 years of Livejournalling, and hopefully, more to come.

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Funeral Writes

During the funeral last evening, I penned down my thoughts about how people end their lives during eventful occasions such as New Year's Eve.
I wrote about how someone could be pushed to the edge of sanity from the very existence of life.
I think I knew.
Some run away from existence by turning to alcohol, drugs, into a virtual temporal plane where life could be sculptured to one's fancy.
I then recollected about that period of mine when slumber was the only solace, the only form of escapism from the harsh reality of living, even if only, only for a while.
While I was walking on the edge, I refused to surrender. The journey was mine and mine alone; only I can choose where I want to go, and no one, nothing should stop me.

There will be no white flag.

Whatever doesn't kill us only makes us stronger.

(The entry has since been lost due to some silly activesync problem. No matter, anyway)
(It was a really really really tiring windsurfing session; my palms are numb liao)

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so sorry to hear about this. hope you will get over it soon.

Actually I'm perfectly fine.
Just an oxymoronic introspective insight.


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