Lively voice of my cousin passionately discussing my aunt’s not-yet-born baby name. Earphones on, Monrose with Even Heaven Cries.

Sometimes it might seem hard 
Your whole world falls apart
Just know that when you feel that way

Even heaven cries
Everybody cries
It’s okay to doubt yourself sometimes
You don’t have to be afraid 
Of what you fear inside
It’s alright, it’s alright
Cause even heaven cries

Today is the international women’s day, a meaningless day to both of us, but I know somewhere in my woman’s heart, there’s a corner waiting to be celebrated, someday. I still don’t want to respond to his message yet. Feeling abandoned somehow, due to whatever reason a girl can think of. I am making an effort to write a diary, again. For a writer-to-be like me, this activity has to be not so difficult. But it really is, and I need to dig deeper to find out why.

Reading and writing, there must be a connection between these two beside the academic research & report work. I still make reading my main daily activity, but I guess writing has to switch in place. My problems lie in vocabulary, the way a sentence goes to best describe a particular sentiment—or the writing treatment, idiom and cultural reference which needs time to learn and absorb, a creative structure/flow, and finally—an idea. As Mr. Murakami pointed out in his book 1Q84, there are two type of amateur writers—the one with remarkable story and the one with a sophisticated way of telling. Those two combined will make a great professional writer. I can tell I seem to fall a bit into each team, which I cannot tell if it’s a good thing or not… I always find myself daydream about an image of me sitting for hours writing non-stop regardless of the flying time. And that vision never stops mesmerizing me. Maybe it is the thing that keeps me going…

Hard to breathe as I am now, insecured and in my dark state of mind, craving desperately for a cigarette. Winter is so long. I crave for the warmth of your arms… What’s around me right now?

.one glass of water
.my iphone
.little brown faux leather wrist watch
.french cookbook
.a window looking into the night
.desk lamp
.little heater
.tortoise eyeglasses in cat-eye shape
.kiehl’s midnight recovery concentrate
.neutrogena rapid tone repair

Where are you?

What am I reading at the moment?

.haruki murakami’s 1q84
.the new york times style magazine
.what are you looking at?: the surprising, shocking, and sometimes strange story of 150 years of modern art – will gompertz
.the art of being human: the humanities as a technique for living
.the norton sampler: short essays for composition
.a little taste of france

Where are you, still?

Maybe it is not that I can’t find you, maybe it is myself that I’m trying to find because it is hidden somewhere…



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