March 5, 2016 § Leave a comment

Heaved a sigh of relief, I’m awake enough to write, just before I crash on my bed of sleep and the forgotten.

I just wrote a birthday letter to one of dear poly friends, Dione. There’s a small group of us, named Forehead Tittaes. The name is derived from a product originally created to help women be taken more seriously in a work place, and it never gets old.

Recently I’ve been thinking of what to do for my family and friends before I go, what’s the best reminder of me that I can give to them. Then again, why do they have to remember me. I’ve been reading about lives of others who studied abroad and one mentioned: “you began to see who your true friends are when you’ve gone for a long time and came back”. I’m already starting to feel the weight of this statement, even before I’m gone for my long time, and let alone come back.

My intuition tells me that nothing would remain the same for me when I come back, because time will make the change. Yes, inevitably, of course. I guess everyone embarking on this beaten path, I won’t call it “less beaten” as it’s very common nowadays but still not the latter, would have to face.

Probably that’s why I insist on doing or giving something to the ones I care, so that even if they forget me in the coming time of my physical absence, that would be the last thing they would remember of me.

I sound like my days are numbered, but the day after the last is not the end, only a beginning. Things are going on in my head now, but it’s never enough, I wish I owned a mind palace to sort it out, like Holmes, without the need to get high.


“Once I knew I was not magnificent.” Our lives feel like these epochs, but really we are dust in the wind. – Bon Iver






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