boxing day

some guy came up to us, asking if we'd heard about embassy and whether we wanted to 'dine there for free'. he then proceeded to offer us membership which was a 'crazy deal'. after we told him we were sixteen, he dismissed it and said that we looked mature enough. then he went on to tell us that if we got the membership, they wouldn't check our I/Cs and that we should make full use of the free-flow on ladies night. anyway. how can these people just come up and encourage us minors to drink and take advantage of the free-flow nights? that's probably why people start clubbing at fifteen years old and getting into horrible situations. such degradation of the society begins with the youth - or maybe i'm just looking too much into it. but anyhow, it was such a good deal i ended up sharing membership with seet, because hey, one day i might like to eat at a posh place for good prices. guilty, guilty.

it's been this way with some people and i. i saw jk out today, back from the US. either he sees me and isn't sure if it's me, or i see him and am not sure if it's him. today both of us saw each other but weren't sure if we were the other. somehow it happens with time - people slowly drift back to the time when you were just a face, just a name, and nothing more. it's happened to me many times. friendships have faded and even died and were somehow never resurrected. its an awful feeling, seeing someone in the crowd you used to know so well, yet treating them as just that face in the nameless crowd you do not know because times have changed and people pretend to forget. not saying hello or a word of love because you're not secured of a reply; and then the pain comes, right in the middle of the busy underpass - a silent pain within the heart. and you think you've died, but you haven't, because you keep on walking and the shrill voice of the blind musician tells you that you haven't.

i was walking to the goodwood today to meet my family and it was pouring like a reservoir had burst in the sky. cold, and wet i trudged on the gravel towards the hotel - suddenly the rain seemed to disappear - an unknown saviour had come from behind with an umbrella and he kindly followed me towards the hotel, wordlessly. a brief thanks, and a 'see you', he was gone.

God is watching over me, indeed.

+ posted by M @ 9:48 PM