this is a strange, permutable period in my life, and i'm still meandering through, sifting, grappling. this unsettling feeling has been gnawing, gnawing away.. i've never been so unsure of where i'm going.
i've never been one to flirt with depression, suicidal tendencies, running away from home, dysfunctional family yada yada the usual load that comes with the ripening of adolescence. so this.. "identity crisis" (since we're getting cliched..) has left me quite unprepared! i wouldn't say i'm the most assertive or decisive person, far from it, but i'd truly believed that fashion was to be my career.
yet now i'm flickering, flickering between the old, welcoming refuge of words, beautiful words and.. fashion. i italicised the word. its denizens have often put me off, so caught up in the ceaseless parade of ostentatious, even voracious consumerism; nary a shade of sincerity.
i was losing interest, rapidly. yet here i am, blogging again. it won't be the same as it used to be, though i did rue the loss of interaction between that tiny band of insightful individuals and myself. i know not of how they came to say hello, nor some of their identities, but therein lies the charm i suppose.
it feels good to be writing.
over chinese new year's; my maternal grandmother braiding my sister's hair.
she was recently hospitalised, but she's doing alright. i'm glad my mother had the foresight to urge me to take these photos - they seem much more timely now, especially with her recent incident. we don't know how many more chinese new year celebrations she'll be able to host.
