If a glass is falling, what is it that stops the hand from reaching out?
Yes, when all it takes is an effortless reach to save it from self-destruction.
Let me introduce you to something named Pride.
It is nor hand, nor foot...
Romantics say our hearts control our actions. Sceptics placed their bets on the mind.
I say Pride is the true-blue mastermind.
What else can be of such capability?
We are talking about the life of a glass here.
I'm sure it is not the unthinkable pleasure of listening to breaking glass.
Neither is it the beauty of disaster that only a million shattered glass shards can exude.
It's just a matter of letting the moment slip by you.
A moment that presented you a bifurcation. No silver platter, though.
Perhaps at that moment as you watched the glass fall with the unwavering determination granted by gravity
Nothing meant as much to you as your Pride So your hand remained immobile.
And you watched the shattering with your beautiful wide open eyes.
Random sidenote again. I think I blog best when I'm not supposed to. Thoughts are bombarding my mind like nobody's business. I shall pretend to be sane by asking, am I going crazy?
::past tense:: posted at 9:57 PM.
::This is Me::
chihlin
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i'm legal
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some standard gemini traits
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cps/ahs/tjc/nus fass
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that's all for now
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::These are my Loves::
write
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read
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think
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dream
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sleep
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sing
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smiles :)
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my dear friends
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star-gazing
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mahjong
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ktv
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mac breakfasts
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cheesecakes
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blk85 suppers
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dessert counters
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hazelnut-flavoured milk
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black chandelier
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brit rawk
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jazz
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heart-melting classics
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my MJ club
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B-Block
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you-know-who :)
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