If you really want to know...

Being the eldest child, I grew up without having a brother to bully me into cool-dom or a sister who blasts her stereo to Pearl Jam and Radiohead, subconciously teaching me the value of good music as opposed to being exposed to the boring drone of malay DJs who somehow get their kicks out of talking while repeatedly pausing and playing dreary music.

All these lessons that second, third and consecutive childs take for granted, i had to pick up the hard way from my bestfriend. All of it. Down to mastering the art of basic social conduct. And in so many ways, it was her who inspired me to write. Because she writes so beautifully, it feels like she bares her soul to you when you read her words that it makes you physically ache. She taught me the power of words. And how it can touch souls.

For example, she would say "in a love story, reality is a thin line between ultimate corniness and the impossibles" or "what is the poetry of happiness, when the extent of it can't even be contracted into lines; you just look at the sky and smile, and these feelings, you can't really put down"

She went on crazy adventures so so so many miles away from me. And it is through words that she relived her accounts to me. And it is through those same words that I travelled and grew with her.

A wild-haired vixen constantly reminds me that words make the most beautiful weapon (honestly she's like a conscience brought to life!). And it is with these knowledge that I tread along these lines - very very carefully.

And i have honestly missed writing just for the sake of ranting, without any specific destination that the words are expected to reach. I am writing tonight simply because I am in love with words and for some reason, I have been reminded of that love.

And i would say that this is the kind of love that goes a long way. This is the love that fixes me up when all the other loves fail me.

And for this, i have my bestfriend to thank. Ma chérie, c'est pour toi.