Walking down shelves of tickets to great imagination, i found out what i anticipated my hands to grab hold of isn't in the regular preference today. I scanned through Pualo Coelho.. Nicholas Sparks, Dan Brown, David Baldacci and it just weren't the same. Like that part of obsession is over. Instead i'll flip through Marley and me kind of novels. The ones with the big 'W' and ends with a G or those with a dog on the cover where you fall inlove with the animal and it has to go in the end. Then right before that section seeps into your mind you remember to prepare a packet of tissue beside you. Yeah, that's for me.

So back to my life blanket by dreams. 2 days ago was my last at the Spa. Goodbye 9 hours of essential oil! I am.. quite.. relieved. Its not bad bad. It was actually a make-over experience. I get free this free that. And i'm late almost all the time and i still get free coffee. Well, its just 'not for me'. I mean.. i like how they use machines/tools/hands to create beauty but i'm more to brushes and pencils. So.. i decided to restart and join the rest of the kids in the yellow school bus with $20 in my wallet. I am way behind time and i think i saw a line or two near my eyes. Alan Herman said he's getting old when he couldn't remember the guy at their departure. I said i have forgotten where i placed my exams certificates. x

Sometimes we walk.. with the possibility, that around any corner, at any time, may come the person/thing who reminds you of your own capacity to surprise yourself. Who reminds you that what seems to be - even about yourself - may not be. I walked into one. One which would stirr up a memory or two. Which you would either shirk it off with a frown, telling yourself no.. this ain't worth remembering or better, God has let it happened for a reason. Or one which you'll recipocrate in surprise: "You're back. I'm back. We're home again. I know you." (I go for the second) Now you're on your flower-speckled bed, looking at the beautiful butterfly effect you grin like a chesire cat, you then finally abandon the literal definition of sleep to dream. You've stumbled upon a real dream.

I know nothing about the stars, the moon, the dream that is phallically enamated from it. But i do know dreams from the sky to the bottom of the volcano. I dreamt my whole life. When was it that dreams really do come true? And when it does, you suddenly become a 5yr old whose luck got you a little stray bird in your palms and you don't know how if you should compress the diameter of your cage-hand a little more so that it won't escape while thinking if it could last breathless just 5 storeys high into a proper home. So the ending was pain. And now you have this fear of even having it right infront of you.

Now you tell yourself, it all happens for a reason. People might just give you that bullshit look because that just makes you feel better. But the whole point is. It does. So i use it alot(recently) when my singtel mail arrives. If only i could always see the biblical phrases as not naked adam and eve but humans who sees embarressment as aliens. Then maybe my stepdad's "senile" appearence at home could have a reasonable explanation in another 3 yrs maybe? Though its been 17 yrs.

But above all, following God's metorphoric preachings is the safest. Meaning, have Faith.