i am becoming a serial blogger. don't ask me why. hrmph i'm supposed to be memorising my englishoral speech, but i know that when tmr comes i'd just have forgotten everything, so there's not point in trying to get it done today. i'd actually memorised it alr, but i went for math tuition, came back, and realised that i'd forgotten the whole bloody speech. the one i spent one hour writing and two and a half hours committing to memory. ><

Oh not because happiness exists,
that too-hasty profit snatched from approaching loss.

But because truly being here is so much; because everything here
apparently needs us, this fleeting world, which in some strange way
keeps calling to us. Us, the most fleeting of all.

...Ah but what can we take along
into that other realm? not the art of looking,
which is learned so slowly, and nothing that happened here. Nothing.
The sufferings, then. And, above all, the heaviness,
and the long experience of love,-- just what is wholly
unsayable.

the time traveller's wife is a good book. go read it! ^^

and in some strange way, i felt that connection, just for that one instant. fleetingly.