Praelūdium

When I clicked the button, I was taken aback by how clean this looks. How untainted, a brand new start. If you're wondering why I am back at this place, why I am still writing, I will give you the honest truth. It isn't much of an answer, but I miss this. Writing has been a part of my life for a very long time now. I used to dread writing compositions back in the beginning of secondary school because a) I'm not naturally right-handed, it hurts. b) My right hand suffer the effect of a chokehold grip on the pen to the extent that it has grown into a deformed thing. It's hideous. c) Writing was not my forte. d) I hate sharing a part of myself to others.

But just like how we all grow out of phases, I grew out of hating it. I realize that there are so many countless times when memorable moments pass me by, and all I want to do is the grab it before it fleets and hold it tight. Pen it down, my emotions at the point of time, how my palms grew sweaty, how my heart was running an internal marathon, how I was embarrassed about how sweaty my palms were, how I thought of a million and one ways to hide them. I wanted people to feel the way I felt, I want them to relive what I experienced through my words. But the power of language falls short, no matter how we try, we cannot relive a moment. All we can do is to make the best of what we have, to remember. 

In the beginning, about seven years ago now, all I had were childish summaries of my day. What I did, how one boy is pissing the heck out of me, how my best friend gave me my favorite sweet, how I escaped to the toilet and hid in there with trusty sidekicks during chinese period. There was not much thought being put into what I wrote. Okay maybe not what I wrote because technology is the new age, we hardly write these days, we type (A terribly sad truth but that's an entirely different topic so I digress). But you know, after keeping this blog up for about two years I got the hang of things. I grew to love writing, reading, quoting, typing... Feeling. I once had a relief teacher who read through one of my essays and wrote something really nice when he handed it back to me. I was such a huge geek, having someone who shares the same love for writing as I do, that I took his advice and wrote short stories in my free time, of which I would hand it up to him for his reading. He would go through them and jot down little notes in pencil on the margins, and I would feel ridiculously happy because I never thought that anyone would be interested in what I have to say. Since then, it kind of stuck. I know that the chances of people actually caring about this place - what I think about, what I do, what I like and what I hate - are bleak. Honestly I don't care either but I find it amusing if someone else were to do the things I do, read what people write and try to imagine who they are in real life. You can feel from people's words, figure out what makes them tick, what makes them smile, and what makes their heart do beautiful tap dances. 

Anyway, I have still been writing diligently, except I do so in my journal. I think it's a wonderful habit to pick up because it makes me endlessly pleased to run my fingers over the grooves and dents of scribbled words than to type on these unfeeling keys. Despite that, I found the sudden inspiration to start blogging all over again. Yes, I would still write my private thoughts in my journal, but I would still like to keep this place alive. It has been a part of me, it has documented me  making mistakes, learning from them and growing up in the process. I cannot give that up, and honestly, I don't think I ever will. The old blog hasn't been deleted but simply removed, I can still find it easily - in fact, anyone can - if they bothered to. If you'd like, you may stay here as long as possible. I hope I wouldn't end up neglecting this place all over again because that would suck. Big time.

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On another note, tomorrow is The Day. I don't actually mark it down on my calendar or remember it, but it's kind of hard not to notice it because it's been the repeated topic on my timeline for the past few hours. Just about half a day from now is the time when the world is supposedly supposed to end. The end of the world, judgement day, armageddon. Yes I know I would be getting judgmental looks or impressions from others if I were to say this out loud but I've learnt that I can't stop people from talking, so why bother? I want to be true to myself, I don't wish to feel embarrassed about the things in my head. Anyone is welcomed to take a sneak peek, you'll be thoroughly amused. 

Well, I know there are plen(ahem alot)ty of people who cast doubt if this day really exists. Heck, I believe that there are people who are reading this and thinking "This girl stupid or what. So naive. No brains ah?". Hey I'm pretty sure the people who stepped into the elevators of the World Trade Centre on the 11th of September didn't think that they would never be able to take the same lifts back down. I'm pretty sure the teacher who went to school a week back didn't expect that she'd be running a marathon and herding her students out from the rain of bullets that awaited them in Sandy Hook. What I'm saying is, before the event actually occurs, all that they were are make-believe impossible and ridiculous scenarios before someone actually steps up to them with a gun in hand and says *bam* you didn't see this coming didya. There's no harm in believing in the possibility that, like so many things we never imagined possible, it might happen irregardless of the odds.

I think there's some sick satisfaction in hoping that the world actually does end tomorrow. At least we wouldn't have to live on tiptoes anymore, thinking about how the world would go out. Solar flares, zombie apocalypse, floods, asteroids, the sun crashing into earth, blahblahblah. I never planned for life after tomorrow, and I just think it's easier not to worry about a future that might never get here in time hahahaha. Stupid me, wasted my money sending university applications.

Besides, if I was a higher power, I would look down at the things I created. A beautiful planet turned into dust, a planet on life support. My creations, the beings, turning against each other, inflicting pain harm and damage I never thought they were capable of. My creations, the animals who lack a voice to speak, living in silent anguish and their cries of help that were never heard. My skies that weep polluted tears for the people who lost themselves for unworthy things. I would look down on this and think, okay we need another great flood. All you nice people pack your things up and get into this magical ark, except we're more advanced now because it's a spaceship in disguise. All you animals, grab your mateys and climb onboard, I'm taking you on a trip. The remaining of you, please stay behind and take a look at yourselves. Yes I know you look damn good in the mirrors, you're the epitome of perfection but you're so ugly on the inside. It's time we all wake up now. You may like to believe that the world revolves around you, but then you'll just be damn bloody deluded. Your life revolves around you because the people who care and love you, people who never gave up on you, makes it a point to. They care enough to cotton wool your goddamned unappreciative ass every single time you fall. We all have to grow up eventually but it's fine if some people don't. I hope the harsh cruel realities of life would crush them to their very beings.

Okay that was full of angst, and it might offend some people. But believe me I don't mean any harm except towards the people I would like to blacklist from my ark. But other than that, I love the rest of you world. Goodnight!