<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar/14684623?origin\x3dhttp://flyed.blogspot.com', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>
Tuesday, October 21, 2008

i was sitting in front of my computer, absently sketching on my drawing pad, the shades of graphite reflecting the mood of thoughts swirling in my head. the past few days have been a hurricane. it left as suddenly and abruptly as it came, leaving an evident wreck behind.
there have been many cases like this featured on newspapers before, which we scorn and frown upon the apparent irrationality of this action. some of us felt a twinge of sympathy towards the families of these people(who are the actual victims), but these sympathies were soonest erased or filed into the back of our minds. this time, the victims are people dear to me, and it took place so close to home. most of us are still in a state of disbelief. it was frightening and undoubtedly unexpected.

i have a vivid imagination. i stood staring at the garish yellow drapes that sealed the pavilion, trying to picture the scene and emotions(can we even begin to comprehend.?), trying to fit a piece in a puzzle that just stubbornly won't fit. seeing my friend break down in front of me was a most heart-wrenching sight. that day, as she shattered into a million pieces, my heartstrings were pulled to the ends of the world.

eventually, the truth sank in and an alarm bell went off in my head. it alerted me to the reality of this crisis- or something i know not what because i haven't begun to organise my tangled thoughts. yesterday, as i walked across the pavilion towards home, those yellow drapes were gone. in place was a strange emptiness resonating throughout the lackadaisical estate that could only be due to the departure of a soul. her departure left little trace in this world, the only residue being in the form of fragile, broken hearts. Ling Yu, my dearest friend, if holding you tight would keep you from crumbling, i will hug you so tight and even if the shards threaten to cut me,
i will hug you so tight.

she's not here @

9:48 AM