The willow knows what the storm does not. That the power to endure harm outlives the power to inflict it

"I get cross, then sad, and finally end up turning my heart inside out, the bad part on the outside and the good part on the inside, and keep trying to find a way to become what I’d like to be and what I could be if . . . if only there were no other people in the world."

-Anne Frank, final entry in her dairy.

I once believed I could live quite happily isolated from human contact, with only books and Jack Daniels keeping me company. There are so many people afficting suffering on others, too many people who relish in the misery of others, and there are even many more apathetic about the entire situation. It gets me down, and I wont pretend it doesnt.

But then there are the quality ones who remind me the human race is not that bad, and with their simple random drunken text, quick call, email, and yes, that human touch, Im reminded once again that not the entire human race is at fault, and perhaps I am the one at fault for not giving it another chance.

Theres a community I frequent at church, and Im learning loads from the teachings, the people. And I suppose Im learning to be a better person. Im striving to be, in any case.

Its such an uphill climb. But I havent risen my white flag yet.

And so another day goes on and I put the book down, wash my glass and breathe the fresh air outside. And thanks to those few, my life goes on beyond the four corners of my room.

Speaking of my room, my parents visited over the last weekend, and I think my mother had a sharp intake of breath at my messy room. I told her there is a method to my disorganized ways and know where everything is in the socalled disorganization, but did she listen? Nooo. She cleaned everything and now I cant find my glasses..or was that missing even before? She then said my fridge was cute but lacked groceries, and I showed her my nutella, juice, milk, magnums and (tried to hide but didnt manage to) vodka and cereal and did she appreciate my efforts? Nooo.

Im kidding, Im hopeless at keeping house. I pity future husbands. Er, husband. Singular.

February came and went. This February sped right by me and it consisted of pearly shells, a sweet valentine 'date', saying goodbye to a colleague, discovering RBC's marvelous seafood buffet, dealing with the end of what could have been a draining relationship, lion dances, red packets and learning how to make sushi (but probably will never again) and happily, a Miri excursion. It almost didnt happen, but it did, and Im thankful for the people who made it happen! It was especially beautiful to see Ankita all grown up and my baby girl, Stephanie and tight friend, Karan. Oh how we laughed, and how we were 'us', all over again. It was like I had never left.

And sometimes oh sometimes, I wish our bubbled up world had never been pricked.

Responsibilities have rolled into my life, as they have in others, and everywhere I turn, theres a responsibility waiting to be dealt with. I fill my world with work and church and a semblance of what passes for a social life in this dry country, but it just never seems to be far off, the shouldering of responsibility. It follows my every glance and move. And I'd be selfish to try and shake it off.

But every once in a while, through the trials and the struggles...

I see my parents, my father of whom has been diagnosed as diabetic,which prettymuch explains his fit in November, and theyre healthy and my brothers and theyre well, and my immediate relatives and we're okay.

And if I was irresponsible, I really couldnt look them in the eye. Nor help them out like I am.

Even if it means I can't (okay, i COULD but I WOULDNT) buy that new skirt.

Whats material anyway?

Oh well, next month.

In other news, One Tree Hill season 5 , Agatha Christie books and Buffy season 8 (in comics) are my current go to for entertainment. Im trying to get back to my chick lit but romance makes me all nostalgic right now and Agatha Christie's whodunnits (my fave thus far is And Then There Were None) are as far from the genre as can be.

And here I go, going back to my books again, right back where this entry started.

But concluding that being isolated from human contact is really not the way to go.

Cheers.