Samuel Yeoh

On the bus ride back to hall, my mind wandered to the freshies who would be having camp, or be in the midst of moving their things into their ‘new’ rooms. I’m actually feeling excited. To think three years ago, I was an excited freshie too, eager to get started on my new life. Ah. I feel old.

It’s been awhile, but it does bring back the Year 1 memories, when I at least had a functional hall life, and was making efforts to integrate. These days, I can’t be bothered.

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Finally back in civilisation. Can’t believe it, but my bag was actually checked by the immigration for the first time ever (SG side that is). But makes me wonder what’s the point of checking my bag. She did it with so much reluctance and a sour face, opened my bag zip all the way, yet only felt around a little bit. As if the whole point was to cause inconvenience. I mean, if I wanted to smuggle something, I’d hide it well. If you wanted to find my smuggled goods, you’d have to dig well. So there.

That aside, it’s been a long three days. As usual, there’s really nothing to do back home except watch TV and DVDs, both which I’m not really too hardcore about. So, I had a lot of time to think instead, my favourite past time. Bleah. Most of it was spent thinking about what’s gonna happen in the next phase of my life. I had glance through this article about successful people in the papers, and it said something about writing down your goals.

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Sweet, is the forbidden fruit.

During my little exile, I chanced upon an envelope where I stored all my sheafs of A4 containing poetry I’ve written in JC. And naturally, a collection of other things meaningful to me during JC. Our pact, and the poem you wrote that I had long forgotten about.

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For those who care, I’ll be back in Penang till Thursday.

Even though I may stay in my room all day, the value of holding one’s room key is freedom I treasure infinitely. I do not look forward to being trapped, even for a measly three days.

Over the past few days, several people have told me that I write well. Ah, if only my words lingered a little longer than the morning dream that slips away when you wake. But words are just words.

That aside, I had a shoot with Leanna/Renata on Monday. Glad to know I’m not the only one who uses more than one name, haha.

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It’s the little things that count. The little seemingly unnoticed things. Unnoticed to you, but painfully aware to me, each and every one of them like ice cold needles pricking into my oversensitive skin.

Your little things turn my otherwise peaceful days into another rush of thoughts, thoughts that scramble headlong onto the tracks to nowhere. I can wonder about a hundred things, but I know they mean nothing to you. I just enact the scenes of what-ifs in the little theatre in my mind.

And when the curtain closes, it would be as if they never drew open.