Since chinese new year is round the corner, here's my spring cleaning inspired post =)

或许在人于人之间的，不是一道墙，而只是一片透明的玻璃。

两个人刚认识对方时，就会花一点心思在着片玻璃。花的功夫越多，玻璃就越干净，透明。两个人就能开始看到批次，开始了解对方。

情人，知己之间，仿佛不曾有过模糊不清的玻璃。仿佛时时刻刻都能明了批次。

有时候，不知不觉，忘记了这片玻璃，它就会累积灰尘，久而久之，玻璃就不再透明，两个人也不再能够看清对方。

当我们发现这片玻璃已经模糊不清时才来付出心血，往往早已迟了一步。不管怎么努力地擦，玻璃依然黑漆漆一片。因为大家都忘了，玻璃是有两面的。一个人再怎么擦，没有了对方的合作，玻璃是永远不会恢复到那些透明的日子。

How do you love yourself?

What constitutes loving oneself? Some say it's loving your body, respecting own's soul. Does that mean that people who drink, smoke or do drugs don't love themselves? Probably not. Does that mean that prostitutes don't love themselves? Probably not.

How then would we know what it means to love yourself?

Is there a criteria? A checklist,  something that we can place a tick upon once we fulfill it?

I don't know. But what I do know is that there are people out there who don't love their bodies, but really love themselves. And on the other side of the fence, people like me who cherish the mortal flesh of my body, but don't really seem to be loving myself.

How then do we do it? How would we know if we've done it?

And if we can't even tell if we love ourselves, how then can we love another?

Why are we so sure we love another when really, we don't even know if we love ourselves?

Or is it just human nature to look at the world before us, through the eyes at the front of our heads, without looking down at itself, the body that houses the eyes, the head?

How does tears flow backwards into nothingness again?

Well I know when my eyes water, and vision blurs, its due to the release of tears by the tear glands. In a way I've always imagined it as a secretion of liquids by just another gland. Even the switch on this one is so emotional.

So then how are we able to 'suck' those tears of ours back? I've certainly experienced it a few times, like how tears were on the brink of falling, of leaving my eyes and somehow, but tilting back my head and closing my eyes for a few seconds, I could will them back.

All the way back as if they never existed.

Of course in reality they did. And if my original idea that the gland released liquid, it shouldn't, in theory be able to take it back, it should be like spilled milk, since glands only release and does not absorb (as far as I know).

So how does such an incredible miracle happen? How can we reel those drops of emotions and feelings back to where they were from and act like they never existed?

Maybe one day I'll find out from a tears scientist. If they actually exist. Hah.

Its as if all those prayers to no one in particular are finally heard by I don't even know who. Probably he-who-controls-fate.

It's like a reward, a gift, a consolation for all those silent prayers I don't even know I'm subconsciously saying. It's like a tragedy, a punishment telling me this is not over yet, and probably not anytime soon.

Distance never to be closed, glances and glimpses never enough to satisfy, insight never enough to understand. Life's own lesson never meant to be understood by mere mortals.

Someday you'll just be left wanting to reach for the light at the end of the tunnel. Because the whole world would too soon turn into that pitch-black tunnel, leaving only a glance, a glimpse of the light to push you forward, stripping away any excuses of giving up, of sinking into the darkness.

Promises are like theories. They can never be right and only lasts till the day they are broken. It takes everything to proof their existence and yet only a few anomalies to tear them apart.

With such unfavorable terms, one might wonder why did we even bother to make them. Why go through all the effort just for them to be broken someday, by someone?

Could it be their justification of the world? Justify things we see, things we hear, things we touch, things we do. Perhaps without them we can no longer understand ourselves, we can't explain why we see, hear, touch or do things.

Maybe they're necessary to prevent our mental world from collapsing, to tell us life still has meaning, reason to live for.

Even if its all of the wrong meaning, wrong reasons.

Because the truth is, we can't live without them. And every day we think up of new ones, create new cages to trap our minds in sanity. Because its necessary. Or at least I'll like to believe that.

Are you lonely because of a certain one-way love? In many a times perhaps you want to say 'don't love me', i'm not worth it. Yet other times you just wish to know so much more than you unknowingly turned into a stalker. Be a benign, harmless one. Because truthfully that one extra piece of information feels like a massage on your mind's shoulders, makes you feel fuzzy and satisfied. And probably why you keep doing it. You know you have to stay away, yet your heart beckons you ever closer, towards that pair of lips with its bright red lipstick. Falling, further and further is where you go, yet gravity is hardly the main concern. When you realise it one day, perhaps you'll go O.M.G. but till then, just like tonight, life goes on, hurt doesn't stop, and neither would time.

Love & Hate.
Because a story is a story, regardless of when or where it came from.

话都没说，就放弃
话都没说，就离去。

有时候我心想，天底下若真的行行出状元，那我最在行的，什么都不是，只是 ‘放弃’ 两个字。

可能时机还轮不到我，可能伤痛还轮不到我。可是我怎么见一面就怕，见一面就跑？

还能多久，还会多久，才能明了？才能面对？

或许逃跑是一种解脱，虽然知道不是长久的，但至少能远离痛苦，远离伤害。远走高飞。

I hate it. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

It's been years already, and I'm not even exaggerating. This is why I need to pick my fights. Because getting into the wrong ones just cripple and tumble me. I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. And for someone who's obsessed with control most of the time, its just so freaking tough.

Why did I go back to that dog-ear page that I never looked at again? I don't even stand to gain. I really don't know what I am doing anymore.