at my past blog entries which really started off on a dunno-why-I-was-writing note, I think I've come to realise (or at least come to find some benefits) why I started blogging.
I have a lousy memory, and blogging helps me remember the me that I once was - in happiness or sadness, in riches and poorness, till death do me part: I cannot be anyone else other than the me that I was, is, and will become. Marriages can fall apart, but you can never divorce yourself due to irreconcilable differences.
There is that part of you which you will forget is you, and knowing that you have been that before, wells up a feeling of ambivalence. It tells if you have grown wiser/childish; if you have changed for the better/worse; if you have had things to be happy/sad about; it tells you of happy/sad times, of memories that will always remain with you, even if forgotten.
I think I've never been happier than the period that I was in Vancouver for my exchange program. Sure that there were things screwed up for no better reason than Murphy's Law, but in general I loved the feeling of independence associated with it. No one to stop you from doing what you feel is right, no one to tell you this is nonsensical and out-of-proportions. Life should be that way. It's quite adult-ish compared to the life I live now. Sigh... Reminiscing...
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