Saturday, June 10, 2006
{ 10:03 PM }
I've been thinking a lot about what I should be posting about. I hate it when my thoughts get blocked, like a plug in the basin sink.
I went through my friendster list of "friends" last night. The question of what it takes to be my friend, I've concluded a long time ago but certain things, from old pictures to pool parties to world cup season, just make you probe deeper the meaning of what a friend really is and who my friends are.
There was a period of time where I knew more people than skittles in a bag. I would say that everyone wanted to be my 'friend' but it just sounds so arrogant and such an airhead but it's somewhere along that borders. Maybe it was because of my relations with other people or maybe it was because I was genuinely a nice person. The latter I hoped.
I miss our pool parties. I miss out The RBRC series. I miss owning the back of the class. I miss our trials and tribulations in love and war. I miss our lame-joke-at-twelv nights. I miss our sleepovers. I miss (and will) our basketball sessions. I miss our World Cup Chart behind class. I miss watching the England v Brazil match WC'02. I miss our Coffee Bean nights. I miss our turntable nights. I miss our ice creams dates. I miss the days.
I am no longer in search of fame or popularity, not that I really ever was. The girls dying to be beautiful to attract the male sex, ladies beware for your name, your reputation will be scratched off sooner than you know. The boys, smoking their fags walking around with an air of toughness, beware you will be brought down by those above you even before you blink. I look at them, smile and wonder if they'll ever have that wake up call I had.
Dear friend,
Thank you for all the times you have had my back, for all the times you never backstabbed me, for all the times you picked me up when I fell, for all the times you stood up for me, for the way you make me feel important and loved, for the times we laughed so hard till we were out of breath. Thank you for encouragement, for love, for harshness, for wake up calls. I love you all more than anything because you have been such a big part of me.
Post high school, we've talked and seen less of each other but forget not that because of the impact you've made in me and my life your name will be engraved in the halls of remembrance, my halls. I trust that when we see each other again, it will be just like old times. Better.
Love, your friend.
Everyone else whose picture I do no have. You know I love you too. Even you who think you might not matter, you do.
I've been thinking a lot about what I should be posting about. I hate it when my thoughts get blocked, like a plug in the basin sink.
I went through my friendster list of "friends" last night. The question of what it takes to be my friend, I've concluded a long time ago but certain things, from old pictures to pool parties to world cup season, just make you probe deeper the meaning of what a friend really is and who my friends are.
There was a period of time where I knew more people than skittles in a bag. I would say that everyone wanted to be my 'friend' but it just sounds so arrogant and such an airhead but it's somewhere along that borders. Maybe it was because of my relations with other people or maybe it was because I was genuinely a nice person. The latter I hoped.
It was like authority. I walked with an air, my nose angled. I thought I was better than everyone else. I was authority.
Thoughts of a teen in search of fame, recognition and popularity, I'd say.
That was then. This is now. I've grown up met real friends. People who have stuck by my side when all crumbled, who have made me feel comfortable being me, who in my mind, made me feel like I needed no more friends than what they already are. Everyday I miss them.
I miss our pool parties. I miss out The RBRC series. I miss owning the back of the class. I miss our trials and tribulations in love and war. I miss our lame-joke-at-twelv nights. I miss our sleepovers. I miss (and will) our basketball sessions. I miss our World Cup Chart behind class. I miss watching the England v Brazil match WC'02. I miss our Coffee Bean nights. I miss our turntable nights. I miss our ice creams dates. I miss the days.
I am no longer in search of fame or popularity, not that I really ever was. The girls dying to be beautiful to attract the male sex, ladies beware for your name, your reputation will be scratched off sooner than you know. The boys, smoking their fags walking around with an air of toughness, beware you will be brought down by those above you even before you blink. I look at them, smile and wonder if they'll ever have that wake up call I had.
Dear friend,
Thank you for all the times you have had my back, for all the times you never backstabbed me, for all the times you picked me up when I fell, for all the times you stood up for me, for the way you make me feel important and loved, for the times we laughed so hard till we were out of breath. Thank you for encouragement, for love, for harshness, for wake up calls. I love you all more than anything because you have been such a big part of me.
Post high school, we've talked and seen less of each other but forget not that because of the impact you've made in me and my life your name will be engraved in the halls of remembrance, my halls. I trust that when we see each other again, it will be just like old times. Better.
Love, your friend.
Everyone else whose picture I do no have. You know I love you too. Even you who think you might not matter, you do.