say it isnt so.

today.met pongie at orchard and talked for damn long and ate super much. damn guilty.deary, have strength ok? u have my support no matter wad.

gosh im in sucha spaced out, zzz sorta mood.my neck's worsened and i cant wait for mommy to bring me to angmokio for that ol' expert to chop it off.

omg.am i nuts or wad. i think i think too much; everything bothers me and i think abt everything. really, it's insane.im supposed to be enjoying my holidays, which i think i am. but why isit i get sad so damn easily of late. sucks.awdang mommy's leaving tmrw already. im gonna miss her really. sigh.wad the bloody hell is wrong with me man? sigh.thank goodness there's eugene to scream to on msn.haha.

She had often imagined herself among the stars. She would pack herself a pretty, little picnic beforehand. She would borrow her Aunt Betty’s cane basket and stuff it with cucumber sandwiches, fruit salad, apples, chocolate, cream profiteroles, jelly and onion loaves.

Then she would bring that red and white checkered cloth her mother hung on the hook behind the kitchen door. Yes, that would make a rather lovely mat. She would carry this basket of goodness on her arm and then make for the stars in the ebony velvet overhead.

It would be easy – all she had to do was shut her eyes and dream; it was only but a matter of dreaming.