Remember Me.

A while ago, my mother admitted that she's slowly starting to forget things about Kermit. It's been six years. I tried recollecting my favourite memories of him, and I found it was a little hard for me, too. I mean, the memories are still there - his beautiful eyes during that short period of time when the car headlights caught him as we entered the gate before Papa or Mama dimmed them; him jumping onto the washing stone, putting his paws on my shoulders to get a better look over the compound walls; me singing to him - a few memories remain, but the details are getting hazy. I don't remember the exact colour of his eyes, I don't remember the weight of his paws, I don't remember what it felt like to have his head on my lap. It's slipping away.

Memories. What wonderful and terrifying things they are.

Off late I've been paying extra attention to the time I spend with people I love, trying my best to remember details that I know can be easily forgotten. Forgetting and being forgotten - two things I've recently come to fear.

There are so many moments in my life that I wish never ended. But now that they have, I try desperately to keep them alive in my memory. Little things keep coming back and it seems so important that I don't lose sight of them again. I wonder sometimes why I've started feeling this way. It comes and goes, but when it comes, it's overwhelming.

"Time takes it all whether you want it to or not, time takes it all. Time bares it away, and in the end there is only darkness." Stephen King.

Beautiful Letdown.

How much of myself do I have to give, over and over again, before I'm allowed to expect the most basic of kindnesses to come my way?

Magnificent.

"And at once I knew I was not magnificent..." Bon Iver, Holocene.

So much loveliness in this world. So so much. So much taken for granted. So much gone unnoticed. What a shame.

I want to see it all before it's gone.

Happiness is...

"You seem like you just breathe and get along, I do not know if you are happy.. or if there is any sense of happiness or joy in your life."

That's what she said to me.

I've heard from quite a few people that I really did seem like that for quite a while. I won't deny that when I read her mail this morning, it brought tears to my eyes. Why? Because a while ago, it was true. It wasn't that my life was devoid of happiness; I just wasn't able to look beyond the sadness that held on to me for close to a year.

But now I read what she has to say, and I want to tell her that I Am happy.

I find happiness everyday. In my perfectly dysfunctional family, in the things my friends say and do, in the faces of 24 kids, each of whom holds a special place in my heart. I find happiness in the lyrics of a song, in the words of a book, in a scene from a movie. I find happiness in every nudge of Pepper's muzzle against my hand. I find happiness in long drives with the windows rolled down.

I find happiness in all the little things in my life that I've come to realize are the things that count. And there is much to be happy about.

Secrets.

"The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them -- words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they're brought out. But it's more than that, isn't it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you've said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That's the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a tellar but for want of an understanding ear." Stephen King (Different Seasons)

A memory.

"No matter what happens now, I shouldn't be afraid, because I know today has been the most perfect day I've ever seen." Radiohead, Videotape.

Somehow, for the longest time, I thought he was saying 'You shouldn't be afraid'. That makes it more meaningful to me. So I'll still take it that way.

Such a beautiful song.

Dear Universe.

I should've known better than to enjoy a moment of happiness. And by happiness I mean pure, unadulterated happiness. After that weekend, I've been happier than I've been in a long time. And less than two days later, it's gone. Something just had to come up and squash my good mood.

I know nothing lasts forever, but I seem to be jinxed. Just when I finally decided to take an active step towards feeling good about life and myself, I'm made to dissolve into a puddle of tears. Don't get me wrong, I'm more or less fine now - part of my new 'feel good' approach to life. But it's such an interesting thought.

I mentioned that I may have started liking how miserable I feel. Did that throw around me an aura that invites unhappiness? If that's the case, then how do I let the universe know that I've had enough of this rubbish? Especially now, at the beginning of my battle against my emotional anguish addiction, I need all the help I can get.

So, I'd like to let the universe know that I'm ready to be happy. And I'm trying. If it could please refrain from disrupting my path to recovery, I'd be very grateful indeed.

"I see a little light, a little grace, a little faith unfurl. Well, hello world." Lady Antebellum, Hello World.