Dear Grandpa

I miss you. I miss you so much lately. I don't know why. Maybe it's just because mum told me that they were going to go visit you today. I wish I could be there. I'm sorry I haven't gone to see you since we put you to rest. But you understand right? I admit, I could have gone back to Taiwan over the summer and I could have visited you then, but I didn't. I'm sorry.

I don't know if there really is an afterlife but I hope you're in a good place. I wonder if you know that I'm thinking of you. I wonder if they have a system there where if someone on Earth thinks of you, you are informed of it. Maybe it's like a short note, or letter, or, god forbid, a facebook notification. Maybe it's like a mail system and once a month or something each person would line up to receive their messages or things that their family has burnt for them. Since mum and dad and Daniel are going to see you today, maybe my message I'm writing will be carried to you too. Maybe you'll be able read this blog post and know that I miss you and that I am thinking of you. And it would have been magically translated into Chinese so you could understand. Or is the world you're in one that isn't restricted by languages and everyone is able to communicate freely? Ever since your funeral, I've regretted that letter I wrote that we cremated along with you. That was a badly written letter. I was reluctant to write it because I didn't want to say goodbye. That letter never fully expressed how I felt.

I'm sorry that the few years before you passed away I hated visiting you. You seemed so miserable. You were so sick and unable to walk or to talk. It made me sad to see you like that because you used to never shut up. You were always telling stories or lecturing someone or giving your opinion on something. I hated not being able to hear you talk anymore and I hated being scared that I'd forget your voice. I hated wondering if you were really looking at me and listening to me or if your eyes were just glazed over and your mind was elsewhere. Slowly, you didn't really seem like a person to me anymore and it was like I'd forgotten what it was like to interact with you. But when you passed away, I couldn't stop reminiscing.

Do you remember how you used to be the one who got all our photos developed for us and put into albums and you would write cute captions and slip them in alongside the photo?
Do you remember how you used to sit at the desk behind me, writing while I practiced piano and you would tell me off each time I stopped playing out of frustration when I played mistakes. "just play on," you said, "pretend you didn't make a mistake and just continue. What if you were in a concert and you made a mistake, would you stop the whole performance? Just gloss over it and continue"
Do you remember how silly you thought I was but delighted you were when I declared that you and I were friends?
Do you remember how I would banter with you endlessly in the car when we went on family roadtrips? And we bet on the time that we would get home?
Do you remember how I used to watch korean dramas with you and I'd get so angry at the characters and you would laugh at me.
Do you remember you promising you'd buy me a house when I got older and then giving me a house shaped money box/piggy bank and said that was it =="
Do you remember constantly asking me if I had a boyfriend and when I said no and suggested you introduce some to me, you asked me if I liked really old men cause you only knew people your age.

I remember how you always loved me more because you thought grandma didn't love me enough. You thought I was the least favored child in the family so you favored me. You wanted to make up for the love I was deprived of from grandma. You even accused her of being sexist and loving the boy grandchild more.

Can you see me now? Are you worried about me? (Stupid question, of course you are. you worry about everything). Do you still believe in me? Are you disappointed? I'm sorry.
maybe you could still cheer me on from wherever you are.

_

I think I should run away.

I should withdraw all the money from my term deposit and buy a one way ticket to Paris.

I'll rent a small room in the attic an old run down place owned by a crotchety old Frenchwoman. My room won't contain much except a small desk in front of the window and an old dingy bed. The ceiling will be sloped and the floor will be wooden and the walls will be white. The window will open out onto a series of red brick tiled rooftops and I can climb out and sit there, gazing at the moon and the stars and the rooftops and the chimneys, smoking cigarettes and drinking cheap wine. I'll also throw crumbs to pigeons and sparrows from my window like Sara Crewe did in A Little Princess.

I'll slowly make the room mine. I'll buy cheap old worn books from markets ad secondhand bookstores and let them take up most of my floor space in stacks. They'll be scattered around me on my bed so their physical weight will keep me company and their words will lull me into wonderful dreams. I'll buy red and black moleskine notebooks and cheap parchment paper and, like Roald Dahl, start my day with seven newly sharpened pencils. My pages will be stained with the coffee and tea which fuel me as I write into the early hours of the morning with the streetlights and moonlight shining through my window as my lamp.

I'll cut my hair short and the only makeup I'll wear is red lipstick and mascara. I shall only ever wear dresses, even in the winter, except with trenchcoats and heavy scarves and stockings. 

I'll take up a job in a small bookstore or cafe or bar and be paid a miserable wage (obviously, they'd have to pay me under the table because I wouldn't have a work permit). I'll learn French from my boss and colleagues and try to converse with my customers in broken French. When I'm not working, I'll explore the streets of Paris. I'll walk down every small alley and bask in the romantic notion of my isolation and loneliness in this beautiful city. I'll sit next to the river, ignoring the couples around me who are making out. I'll  sit under a sheltered outdoor cafe and watch rain pour and the streetlights illuminate the raindrops. 

I'll send postcards to my friends and family daily. I shall write them letters every fortnight. I shall perhaps call them once a month from a phone booth next to a busy street so that they may hear the sound of traffic and people and life in the city I am making my home. 

_

Silenced
by cowardice and pride,
I turned away from him -
and my words,
jumbled and tangled on my tongue,
so unwilling to leave the back of my throat,
spilled from my eyes as tears instead.

_

snippets from europe trip 2008

I remember that night when we were on the Greek island of Paros when we were walking back to the hotel, I was just so filled with elation and happiness I literally felt drunk. Louis kept asking me "Amy, are you drunk?" and no matter how much I insisted I wasn't, he didn't believe me.
Maybe it was just being 17 in a foreign country being carried by a soft breeze on a beautiful island surrounded by friends and strangers. Maybe it was the sound of the sea or the string of lights on the other side of the island or the moon reflecting off the rocks next to the beach.
I will never ever ever forget that feeling.

_

300

I remember the film 300 was R16 and when it came out my best friend and I both really wanted to see it but we weren't 16 yet but because we were both only off by a few weeks (our birthdays are really close) we tried to beg the guy at the ticket booth to let us in but he wouldn't and we were both disappointed.

Okay so I've actually been trying to write a proper new entry for ages but I can't come up with anything cause I'm useless (well okay it's not that I can't come up with anything but more like I can't finish what I start but anyway that still makes me useless) but I just noticed that this will be my 300th published entry so I felt like I should acknowledge it.
I know that my blog has gone to shit but I also know that there are a FEW people who still read it and get the occasional emo/angsty update on my life so I just wanna say I love you guys and I wish my blog was better. I keep trying to start new blogs but I still like this one the most. I think I should give up my unrealistic dream of blogging for a living because to be honest, my life is extremely uninteresting and I am not as eloquent as I like to be.
HOWEVER I don't think I'll ever stop blogging because I will forever be someone who wants to rant and write badly on the internet and have an invisible audience.
HOPEFULLY though, maybe one day I can start up a travel blog. I think that would be the best thing ever.

Anyway, I know that I've had this blog since the end of my first year of uni and someone more dedicated would probably have more posts by now but alas, I am not that someone. I shall try harder in the future. But no promises. You guys know me by now.

Okay, that's barely any sentiment but that's certainly enough for this post.

_

It's our 10 months today and I don't even get to see him TT

To be honest, I know I have it heaps better than a lot of people but still. A lot of the time I envy other couples because they seem to be able to spend all their time together and be able to see each other when they want. And I wish it was like that for us.
And yet sometimes it's been like such a mission for him to come and see me. That's so stupid.
And I know that every relationship is different and everyone interacts in a different way and it's not right to envy other couples but still...
I just wanna be able to see him when I want, to wake up next to him sometimes, to.. I don't know.. Go out in the middle of the night on a whim to see him. I wish he was allowed to come over to mine to just hang. I wish we could just spend all day together. I wish we could go on a trip together. I don't know. They just seem like such normal couple things that people do but we don't because half the time I'm not allowed.
I have all these restrictions and I can't go out when I want, I can't attend every social event with him, can't even see him for that often most of the time nowadays and I resent that so much. I really wish that things could just be really simple but unfortunately it never is (I don't know if it's just me).
Sometimes I wonder if he might get sick of this because I'm sure things could be a lot easier with anyone else. It's just difficult with me.
And now I might be leaving soon for a year and that will just make things even harder and I don't know if I can handle it.

_