entries about gallery visitors

I have been busy. I have had "better things to do" than blogging, than contacting and communicating with old friends, than being unselfish. I can't say that I have been incredibly happy, but I have been and am contented with my life as it is. I've gotten used to living two very separate lives, one in Singapore and the other in Oxford. I am the same girl in both places, but life is quite different.

2012. I am twenty this year. Two decades of my life have gone by too quickly and I wonder if it is time that I should have achieved a level of 'maturity'. There are so many facets of maturity though. I think I am mature in a sense but a part of me refuses and rejects growing up. I wonder if innocence must always be tainted and lost as one approaches adulthood. Maybe this worry about the loss of innocence is proof that I am not all that unblemished by my experiences. I have wronged too many times to qualify for innocence and I do not regret anything I have done.

I am content. I am happy in my own skin, happy never being exceptionally clever, exceptionally pretty, or exceptionally popular. Am I the only one who looks at other girls, wishing my life could be just as perfect as theirs? Wishing for their lives and walking the thin line between envy and jealousy was something I used to do so often. I wanted to be anything but mediocre. I wanted to be special. I probably still want all these, but the years having tried so hard to be special were futile. My futile attempts to be someone I am not have worn me out and down so I accepted life and am content.

I wonder if those girls who have it all know how much I want their lives?

Where are you?
Who are you with?
What are you doing?
When are you coming?

The fear of being judged. Finally not caring about what others think.

On growing up: The realisation that no one really cared enough to judge you after all. 

8:07 AM♥

I have been busy. I have had "better things to do" than blogging, than contacting and communicating with old friends, than being unselfish. I can't say that I have been incredibly happy, but I have been and am contented with my life as it is. I've gotten used to living two very separate lives, one in Singapore and the other in Oxford. I am the same girl in both places, but life is quite different.

2012. I am twenty this year. Two decades of my life have gone by too quickly and I wonder if it is time that I should have achieved a level of 'maturity'. There are so many facets of maturity though. I think I am mature in a sense but a part of me refuses and rejects growing up. I wonder if innocence must always be tainted and lost as one approaches adulthood. Maybe this worry about the loss of innocence is proof that I am not all that unblemished by my experiences. I have wronged too many times to qualify for innocence and I do not regret anything I have done.

I am content. I am happy in my own skin, happy never being exceptionally clever, exceptionally pretty, or exceptionally popular. Am I the only one who looks at other girls, wishing my life could be just as perfect as theirs? Wishing for their lives and walking the thin line between envy and jealousy was something I used to do so often. I wanted to be anything but mediocre. I wanted to be special. I probably still want all these, but the years having tried so hard to be special were futile. My futile attempts to be someone I am not have worn me out and down so I accepted life and am content.

I wonder if those girls who have it all know how much I want their lives?

Where are you?
Who are you with?
What are you doing?
When are you coming?

The fear of being judged. Finally not caring about what others think.

On growing up: The realisation that no one really cared enough to judge you after all. 

8:07 AM♥