there should be a statue of limitation on grief. A rule book that says it it all right to wake up crying, but only for a month. That after forty-two days you will no longer turn your heart racing, certain you have heard her call out your name. That there will be no fine imposed if you feel the need to clean out her desk; take down her artwork from the refrigerator; turn over a school portrait as you pass - if only because if cuts you fresh again to see it. That it is okay to measure the time she has been gone, the way we once measured her birthdays.

my mother let me have the picture of Anna. But i didn't frame it; I put it into an envelope and sealed it and stuffed it far back into a corner drawer of a filing cabinet. It's there, just in case one of these days i start to lose her.

my sister's keeper Jodi Picoult

;

read this book. it's REAL nice.

i love reading.

it never fails to make me realise that there are so many different disappointments in life, different kind of grief and definitely happy moments. reading simply allows you to be lead into the setting, the atmosphere and the people involved. the degree of involvement really depends on how the writer wants it to be to acheive different kinds of responses from the readers.

it's really a matter of preferance for reading.

there are like different kind of genres also.

chick flicks are for my dearest classmates man!

sometimes i rather indulge in books and to be alone than to be with many people in which i can't even seem to realise my significance for being there.

but that's not the point lah.

cos in this year, i've learnt that being alone is cool.

being a loner needs lots of courage.

4 more.

it really doesn't matter much.

i think it's time to stop.

i'm fine with everything.

all the best.