Because, when these things happen, we suffer terribly.

Hiya, fellow dreamers.

I'm currently reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and I'm almost done. I'm on the part where the alchemist tells the boy to listen to what his heart says. It's a very profound book and reminded me how much I love Paulo Coelho's writing style.

Today has been pretty good. I made macaroni spaghetti from scrap and some gulaman and milk snack. One of the things I like about myself is my ability to make something edible out of the available ingredients at home. This time, I only used some left over tomato sauce, a pinch of pepper, salt, mono sodium glutamate and sugar for the spaghetti sauce, and then topped it all with hard boiled eggs. I don't know why eggs make everything taste better.

Yeyey has the colds and coughs. My sister put some Vicks vapor rubs on a glass of hot water and made her sniff it with rolled paper but she didn't want to. The menthol hurt her eyes. My grandfather is also incredibly sick. The doctor said it was over fatigue, but they did a lot of tests and prohibited him from smoking and drinking, cause he now has a weak kidney. It scared me. Still scares me, cause it is very unusual for my grandfather to be sick. I'm used to seeing him as the headstrong, stubborn man who annoys me to death, but now I feel sorry for all the times I pretended he wasn't around when he was. Some kind of granddaughter I was.

I'm also listening to Bloc Party. It makes me feel a bit sad. Most of their songs are happy, though, but I'm currently listening to the album A Weekend In The City and the songs in it have some melancholic beats and melodies.

I'm longing to just be lying on a grass field, watching the stars. It doesn't even matter to me if I'd have someone to do that with or not. I just want to do that. Maybe it's just this new perfume I've got that smells like New York city. No, I don't know what New York smells like, but this scent reminds me of a fast paced life, with buses and cars honking at each other and people bustling, rubbing elbows, exchanging snide remarks. You might think, what does New York city have to do with grass fields and stargazing? And I understand, because if I wanted it to be more romantic, I'd choose a suburb in France, or maybe some place in New Zealand, but if I listen to my heart right now, it says New York city. Maybe my heart is thinking I could walk to Central Park and go stargazing there. I don't really know how I'd do it. I just want to do it.

So I'm gonna end this post now and dream some more of NYC. Of the things that might have been different if only one thing didn't lead to the other. Of office secretaries, scrambling to buy their bosses' Starbucks coffee. Of snow. Of red trees.

Of Serendipity.