When I got to Khatib camp there was a long queue at the guard house. With the air still damp from the morning shower and skies overcast, the mere thought of spending my Saturday morning in-camp just repulsed me. So grudgingly we shuffle along, through the narrow gates like swines being herded to their gruesome death.
I was rather nervous about my first ippt attempt since, well 4 years ago. You'll be surprised by the number of pot-bellied man who showed up I tell you. Thankfully I passed with $100 incentive. At least that will get them off my back for at least another year.
The only thing nagging at me now is the impossibly slow processing time for my visa. Bummer.
On a random note, I've got a Tiara from Shermy and Heidi (Hidayah) who thinks I look gay (which I think is a compliment) and deserves princess treatment. It looks like the one Sarah has. Now what can I possibly do with a Tiara? Even Sarah has no use for it save to collect dust.
I'll miss everyone when I eventually leave for Prague. I won't see my family, grandpa, His Majesty the King Tiger the First for 6 months, and Sarah for a whole year. By then she would have completed her bachelor''s degree and probably attempting her honours and bitching about something.
I'll be meeting April in a short while to get decorations for her room from Ikea @ Alexandra. It sure brings back pleasant memories. We were so innocent back then. It is dangerous to open these trap doors to your memories. It can all come rushing in and you wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Last night I went to Holland Village, another place full of memories for me. Something beautiful and sweet began there and I was once a happy and very lucky boy. Now things have changed, people have changed, I have changed. We cannot go back to how we were, even if we try to.
Sometimes it saddens me, when I think of the days of yore. These memories, the details will soon fade away, the raw emotions, delicate words, gentle promises will soon be forgotten as time trudges on. But we can't keep living in the past. We have to man up, or woman up and carry on with our lives. I am glad to have these memories, no matter how fleeting, than to not have any at all. Digging through my old collection of rather bad poems, I found this. Don't worry, I'm just reminiscing.
Angels fall without you there
The flowers wilt and the meadows go bare.
Morning came without any hope
Too much pain and grief for me to cope.
I watch and wait while my empty heart bled
My eyes run dry from all the tears I have shed.
I would love to kiss your beautiful face
And indulge myself in your embrace
You alone can bring me joy
And the ability to make me coy
You are my princess and I am your knight
Yet all I am is a sorry sight.