In the past couple of days, I’ve been staring at empty pages, no clue of what to write about. I try to make it a point of writing at least a few lines in my journal everyday but there are times when the mind thinks about too many things it becomes difficult to put it down on paper coherently.
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I miss… doing stuff with certain people. Like have coffee, gossip, try to take photos, makan, walk-walk eat air. Heh. But it’s nice to be around people older than me (some twice my age!), listening to their stories and discourses on many things. They sometimes give insights to things I don’t think much about.
I still would love to have my favourite people here, though. They’re not around often enough. That’s just me being selfish.