time

it's one of those days when i wake up, feel like crap, and think back on the good old days. for the record, i'm not even twenty.

remember those enid blyton books? i do. in fact, i missed it so much, i got the "more wishing-chair stories". it's the sequel to "adventures of the wishing chair", i wonder how many people remember it. perhaps "the magic faraway tree" seems more familiar. but these were the books that got me interested in reading (besides the Disney's fairy-tales). in fact, i recall a certain silly girl hanging out in Times bookstore just to finish reading the book. every single time i go there, i head over to the same section and fish out the same book. by the time i finally persuaded my parents to buy it, i've already finished reading it. so now i'm reading an enid blyton book. everyone else thinks i'm bonkers.

i think i grow up too fast. in fact, i wanted to grow up so badly, i used to steal my auntie's make up just to play with. now i'm not going anywhere near those imitation stuff.

so when i grew older, and hopefully more mature, i got into the sweet valley stuff that all the girls were crazy about. it's a social thing; every girl had one, and we would trade with each other so we can absorb every bit of information in it. perhaps it was the "american thing", or the little "twins" thing we got obsessed with. or maybe just to have an older or younger sister to be there for you when you need someone? i never had a sister. maybe if i did, i wouldnt be such a mess.

so now i grew up, and things werent as American as adulthood was portrayed. and i wasnt as enthusiastic about adventures compared to when i was a kid. once it was "an adventure! how i wish to be whisked off onto the wishing chair on one of my little adventure!". now it's "are you sure that creaky old chair can sit 2 kids and a pixie?"

i regretted growing up too fast.

although in many ways, i'm still a kid, i know i'm no longer naive or innocent. i know that if i say "i love you" today, it wont be what i would have said when i was twelve. the meaning's totally different. i meant what i said then, i probably loved, or rather, was infatuated with that little boy wearing that thick glasses. now? love? yeah. with your car! or perhaps simply because you were cute. no other deeper meanings, no attachment of any kind. once, i told my friend who blatantly disclosed his displeasure of my love for money. part of my answer was "the only time i was prepared to give up money for love, i found that heartbreaking. i dont intend to try that again." he looked at me as if i'm an idiot. hell, dont i sound pathetic?

yes i do. because now, i care about how others see me. now i'm a hypocrite. now i dont believe in redemption. and what am i going to do? i should just shut up in case people around me get worried. i should find the courage to dial his number again. even better? i should toss my phone out of the window.

because i know i very much want to go against time, so much as to turn back time. check out the children's story book! the outragoeus wall lamp i got from the children's section! my infatuation wth pink! perhaps, just perhaps, i'm retracing my steps to find the real person i am. from within. or maybe it was just the waiyue i liked better.