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I can't stand people looking at me like I'm crazy, and talking to me like I'm someone dense. They don't believe me, and they don't take me seriously. Sometimes it's hard to just keep doing something different, something difficult, when people don't support you. But I know what I'm capable of, and that's the most important thing.To most people, good grades mean the world. For me, they come so often that I've become numbed. They're simply a red mark on a piece of paper. They can't bring me happiness, or love, or peace of mind and body. I'm not any happier than others. It is only when I love what I'm doing, and I pour my heart and soul into it, and see the results, do I get a sense of immense gratification. The results actually mean something.Maybe people think they know me. They shouldn't think that the picture they're getting is really what I'm like.Or is this what happens when people grow up? They become a herd of nameless and faceless people. For a terrible moment, I realised I'd nearly become another one of them. The real me would never have gone against her desires, her passions. That was why I was so desperate and afraid. I felt as if I was losing my soul. So what I did, I did it to save myself.
Photoshop-ped photos of white orchids in my balcony. They rarely bloom, and when they do they don't last long, so this is a really precious sight.
I've given the photo an aged feel, which I thought reflects the people's traditional mode of transport.
A candle-holder found in a temple.
An amazing phenomenon occurred to me on the way home from Johor (which I'd spent the New Year weekend at, visiting relatives). Stuck in our car, waiting out the jam at the Causeway, we stared listlessly out of the window and noticed a perfect semi-circle rainbow arch in the sky. That was only the second time I'd seen a full rainbow. Passers-by stopped one by one to gape at it in wonder. For a moment, it seemed that there was a connection between us. Even though we were complete strangers, as fellow human beings, we could all bask in the beauty of nature. That fleeting moment soon passed. The spell was broken as we each turned away and went on with our mundane daily lives, probably never having our paths cross again.