Through the Glass Window

So... remember that story I said I would write based on my dream? Here it is. Below. LOOK DOWN. (Wrote this a long time ago, but read it anyway!)

***

This is the fifth consecutive time this week the girl has waved at me at she passes by. She must mock me for sitting up here while she roams freely. But somehow she had found the exact time that I'd look down to the lobby, and every time she looked up, she smiled. I don't think that's mockery, is it?

She has a beautiful smile. I can't see clearly from up here, of course, so I'm probably imagining it all, but her enthusiastic wave brightens up my day. The first time this happened I was rocking my chair back and forth like an executive who would like people to think that he's thinking of something that would help the company's growth and expansion would be rocking his chair. Basically I was bullshitting my way through a busy day of work.

I looked down the glass window that separates my cold, aloof and unfeeling office from the rest of the world to see a little blob of red passing by. It was as if she could feel my gaze, because she looked right up at me, and gave me a little wave.

It must have been not so little because I could see it here on the 35th floor, where it seemed minuscule. Many things seem minuscule when you're high up.

 At first I thought that she might be a little off up there, if you know what I mean. But I think I'm starting to look forward to the time she looks up, and our eyes meet. Or rather, when our line of vision collides.

It's like when I see her I feel a rare connection that I don't normally feel with people. Usually the only connection I make is with my phone, and my secretary. I rarely have to meet with anyone else, other than my boss every other week when he sets me off on a new assignment, and the clients? Well, frankly I don't see them as connections. They matter, of course, sure they do. But only to my pocket.

I gave her a little wave back, but it was so small I doubt she'd seen it that first time. It's not everyday someone decides to be just a little friendly to someone you don't know. I didn't even know her. This crazy woman, for all I knew, was waving to a perfect stranger. I think I have the right to be just a little bit frenetic by it.

Today I saw her again. It was around 1:20pm. Lunch break was over, and I was settling into the massive amount of work I have to deal with each day.

But as soon as the clock on my desk struck 1:23, I looked down and there she was, like she was there every day since that day.

She looked up, and saw the little speck of me, blatantly waiting for her wave, so she did. She was wearing green today, that I could see. It gave her a Christmas-like feeling.

I waved back, a big, sweeping one this time, stretching from one end of my waist to the other. She paused a little, then went her way.

I've wondered about her name. Her age. Her ID. But I have no way of contacting her. Unless... I wait it out for her tomorrow.

Sober in Life

Yesterday (or just a few hours ago) was interesting because I got to know Joycelyn better and I also learnt a lot of things...

Of which if I told you would be too long for me to write at the moment because I'm dead beat.

Clubbing's still not my thing though. Gives me a headache and my heart will start pumping like a thousand miles per second.

I guess, as a writer, it was interesting to see how people partied and reacted to different things. And drank. A lot. ( or at least I think people do.) Right?

Drinking makes me sick though. Even just a little. (Like seriously VERY LITTLE.) But I still took loads of photos and videos. #pro *self praise*

I learnt something really important, and that is to laugh about the things that make you wanna cry. It helps to be self-effacing, not self-defeating.

A short post... Because I was reminded (by Joycelyn saying that she blogs and to check her blog out lol) that I used to blog a lot but now I don't really have anything much to say. (Or if I do, it's too personal to go on here so it goes in my diary instead.)

And I miss it. Sharing my thoughts with the world of strangers that makes up the internet.

I'm tired and a little woozy (can I haz day off in lieu please, Boss?) but I'm glad that I got to know more about someone.

We INFJs are ever curious about other people. :D So much so that we're mistaken for extroverts.

You know, I asked my guy friends why is it that my friends seem to like each other (in that way) but I'm somehow not liked by anyone in my three years. They say it's because people look upon me as their little sister who they have a need to protect. That I'm like that. And that there would be someone who could go past that. When? Who knows.

I think they're trying to console me somehow.

On one hand I'm glad that I'm not caught up in their sticky, tangled webs. On the other hand, I'm like... "Is there something wrong with me?"

Seph told me recently (about me), "You can never be loved enough because you love so much." So sometimes I close myself up. To recharge.

Hopefully I'll find that someone who I'll be loved more than enough. I like to be protected. I like to be safe. But sometimes, like yesterday, I'll have to venture out of my comfort zone just a little. Because maybe if I'm more willing to take risks, I'll find the one I'm looking for.

(And finish that book of mine and send it out.)

Not saying anything

Hello.

I haven't said hi for so long... this is quite strange.

Christmas is coming. Next Sunday. *makes small talk*

I have 9 weeks of internship left. Interning in school. (Long story.)

It's strange how I used to be able to say everything on this blog, but nowadays I'm just like, "Lalala long story." Or like, "Hahaha not even gonna say anything."

Anyway, blog. You've been with me for the longest time. You know me best. Tell me, am I going to make something of myself? What do you think? (Yes I know I might sound a little off centre talking to an online presence as if it could talk back.)

I gotta go, blog. Till next time? I'm thinking of starting a vlog.

Don't Really Use Blogger Anymore...

I don't know why.

Maybe because I created a slew of websites with my name on it. So I can't have my undivided attention on this. :P (I realised this when I was adding the websites to my FB page. Gosh I have a lot of sites I leave my mark on. :O)

Actually, it's more likely that it's because I had nothing much to blog about (my personal life). Because everything seems so mundane. Other than the fact I'm writing a book. That seems to go nowhere.

And how I keep finding out more and more authors who're getting published, and wishing that it's me in their shoes. (As in, one pair at a time. Imagine wearing a gazillion shoes at the same time! I'd be super tall.)

Also, the 'Enter' key hates me. It doesn't move properly until I click on the 'Edit HTML' and click back to 'Compose'.

Hmm.

So because nothing is really happening, I'm not really writing.

Then should I just 'unlist' this blog? It's no use keeping something if it's not updated.

But then, I'd like to blog more. About what... I really don't know. But at least I'd like to keep some record of my life. I don't really write in my diary anymore either.

And that's kinda sad.

I'd leave you with something I scribbled a few weeks ago...

My nose was buried deep into my newest obsession. Deeper and deeper into the love story I went, as I fantasied being in the protagonist's shoes, seeing what she saw, hearing what she heard, and feeling the slightest tinge of his lips on mine. Living out what can't happen in real life.

The smallest smile and the fleeting touch was all it took for me to fall in love with what wasn't real. I read book after book, all of them stories about undying love. My imagination was ripe, and it was taking me to places I normally wouldn't go. The perfect love story... I wondered when it would happen to me.

It's actually longer than 2 paragraphs, but if I post more I feel like I'm revealing all my secrets to the word. Even though technically this piece of writing is fiction.

I'm going to write a short story, and join the Golden Point Award thing. Hope I win something! It'll be good for my portfolio. Ha.

Okay.... I'll be back next time. With more to say. ♥♥♥

Promise.

Yale NUS

http://www.ync.nus.edu.sg/index.html

I really hope that this is where I can go after I graduate from DTVM. An education like that really appeals to me, because you get to learn about anything and everything for 2 years, then choose a major.

Only 150 students for admission in the first year the college opens though...

I don't know if I'll be able to make it.

But I'll trust in God. Whatever he wants me to study (or not), I'll do it. Here's hoping I can.

The Wig is Killing Me.

I'm actually surprised I'm not dead yet.

Yesterday I dreamt (yes, me and my dreams. Whatever.) about my wig and it was soooooooooo smooth and it listened to me and I braided it.

But in real life?

That's not happening.

So the life and death of my Rapunzel cosplay is depending on my wig.

I have to say that even if I don't get to do this in the end, I'll still have the wig to live out my fantasies! (Hey. Don't think dirty.) And I'll probably get the artbook. (Which I STILL. HAVEN'T. GOT. Never had the chance to visit Basheer. Dang.) It doesn't mean my fanage to this dies. 'Cause it doesn't.

Sigh. Stupid wig.

My Dream

Yesterday I was rudely awakened by the pain that was in my abdominal area... I think. But that's not the point. I had a nice dream. (What I could remember of it was nice anyway.)

My Dream:
I (or this girl, but for the sake of continuity let's just say 'I') was in this tower-like office building kind of structure. It was a cylinder, and I would go there everyday. Every day, there would be a guy at around level 35, who's lonely, who would look down just as I look up, and I would wave to him and give him a friendly smile.

At first he thought it was strange, but he slowly warmed up and smiled right back at me. It was nice. End of Dream.

Hmm I feel like expanding this into a story... I think I will. Maybe. Probably.