Of Course

I do not smile unexplainably at the sound of your name. Because I can explain it. I have been smiling the whole day because I am happy today. Not because I have been thinking about you. Even if I happened to think of you for the whole day a while, that doesn't mean you're the reason I smile. There is not chain of logic between me thinking of you and me smiling. Because, it's normal. It's just a non-exhausting smile. Everyone can do that when they're happy, right? Even if the kind of joy is not usual - like a little sparkling glitters in my guts, a butterfly that makes my heart beats with silent excitement, it doesn't mean it's something that unusual that I have to write a post about it. I mean, even if I were to think of you, it's not something I should feel guilty about. Because I think of many people everyday. Sometimes, I even ask myself why didn't the Nasi Lemak stall open that morning. Yes, that's right. Many people. You're just one of them. So not special that I can forget about you when I wake up from a good night sleep. Even if I were to meet you tomorrow, it's just a normal hang out. Of course we need to meet up with friends sometimes. And, of course I'll feel excited to meet up with friends.

We're just friends, right?

Train Trip

The Right to Stay in Denial

I did not just went shopping. I mean,

those are necessities

they really worth it

I really like them

...

*stares at the burnt hole of my purse*

I did not just went shopping.

Nice one!

I love this post very much. It's from I Wrote This For You.

Outside the station, she stands with her child on the side of the street, taking pictures of cars.

You think she's insane. Until, one day, you notice that she's taking pictures of the license plates of the cars her child gets into.

Because you look. But you do not see.

And she walks out the shop with bags full of cat food. You think she's some crazy cat lady until you find out, she has no cats.

Because you eat. But you do not taste.

It's been a while since their last album but he assures you, he's doing just fine these days, white flecks in his nostrils. Then he asks you if he can spend the night on your couch, even though it stinks.

Because you sniff. But you do not smell.

And they say "Just OK" when you ask them how school was. Then you wonder what they're hiding until you find their diary and the last entry reads "I wish you'd give me some privacy."

Because you listen. But you do not hear.

And they've got a bruise over their eye and you run the tips of your fingers over it and ask them how it happened. You believe them. Until it happens again.

Because you touch. But you do not feel.

And they walk past you everyday, one million stories, each waiting to be told. Waiting for you to ask.

Because you live. But very few, love.

Colour Blind

Broga Hill

Pictures first :)