If you knew how happy you are making me.

Feels Like Home by Chantal Kreviazuk



Somethin' in your eyes, makes me wanna lose myself
Makes me wanna lose myself, in your arms
There's somethin' in your voice, makes my heart beat fast
Hope this feeling lasts, the rest of my life

If you knew how lonely my life has been
And how long I've been so alone
And if you knew how I wanted someone to come along
And change my life the way you've done

It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me
It feels like I'm all the way back where I come from
It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me
It feels like I'm all the way back where I belong

A window breaks, down a long, dark street
And a siren wails in the night
But I'm alright, 'cause I have you here with me
And I can almost see, through the dark there is light

Well, if you knew how much this moment means to me
And how long I've waited for your touch
And if you knew how happy you are making me
I never thought that I'd love anyone so much

It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me
It feels like I'm all the way the back where I come from
It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me
It feels like I'm all the way back where I belong
It feels like I'm all the way back where I belong

A gift from the heavens.

And I'll tell myself I'm not dreaming each time you appear before me.

Beautiful moments don't last forever but the impressions they leave behind are beautiful, are they not? Like a glowing star in the dark night sky, they always seem to shine, no matter what. They're always there to put a smile back onto your face. They're always there for you to wish upon.

They past fast though. Time always flys by so fast when everything's wonderful and hopelessly beautiful. So fast that it's barely easy to capture everything wonderful that just went by before your eyes. But you'd stand so very still, anyway, and try to breathe in every beautiful waking moment of heaven.

AMBience VI was a blast. It was an absolute success and I loved every second of it. Something about everything of the hall still lingers in me... I constantly wish I could pause time. Not forever though, but just long enough to absorb everything that, most often, will faze in a matter of minutes...

I don't want you to faze anytime now.

I had to think fast.

Because I know it'll do me some good.

How I wish I never had to make choices; because I just hate making them. Decisions, choices. They make my palms sweat and turn pale. Don't they to you? They make me feel sick and ill, like I could throw up at any point of time. And I constantly fear regret and guilt...

Oh, doesn't everyone?

Let me dream.

She says he'll never be mine, not even in my dreams.

Oh, some people say that we dream a few dreams each night. That our brain is constantly active and that we are prone to dreaming about 3 to 4 dreams each night that we fall asleep. We only do not know if we have dreamt because we just don't remember.

But how I wonder - if it's about simply not remembering or if there was some sort of will to not remember involved. If it's more about wanting to forget then simply not registering. More about a will to not recall and to totally erase them more than simply forgetting...

Oh, but why do I constantly forget to erase you?

All a matter of pride, I suspect.

Oh, but what else was I to say?

Oh, do you remember throwing silly tantrums? When you'd push something away for silly reasons of spite or, perhaps, pettiness. You'd give it away with a pounding ache in your chest, hoping you could have just put your pride down instead of having pushed it away.

Okay, let's start with something tangible... I was a kid, probably below the age of five when my dad screamed at me for something that had a barely acceptable reason. He was in his worst moods. And it all happened in the morning.

Of course, I was angry and upset. I spent hours crying before summing up the guts to stare him straight in the eye, displaying how much I despised him just as he closed the door and left the house. No, he had to run errands. Oh, but how I enjoyed thinking he feared me.

Later that afternoon, he came back with a packet of chocolates and put it in my hands - it was for me, he said. Oh, how tempted I was to tear it open immediately and pour the tiny coloured pieces into my mouth. Only that my pride was tugging at me, it didn't allow me to do so.

So, due to my disgustingly huge pride, I threw the chocolates onto the floor and looked him straight in the eye, telling him I didn't want it. Hoping, so hard, that he'll flare up and walk off. But he bent to picked up the chocolates and calmly walked over to my sister.

I watched with utmost longing as he dropped them into her open palms, and as a smile spread across her face. I spent the night staring at her devour the chocolates. My pride was too big for me to swallow and just ask for her to share a piece of her reward.

Oh, how often do we give something we want away, just in the name of pride? A force too strong to swallow. Oh, do you ever constantly wonder what it'd be like if we had put our pride down and allowed ourselves to give instead?

I've began to wonder.

I do love my sister.

She told me that I need to learn to live the way others do.

When I was two or three, I had this purple walker that had really really huge wheels. I was quite a fast learner when it came to walking, so in a few hours, I was running with the walker, ramming myself into walls. Not hard enough to tip-over, but enough to receive a slight impact. I loved it, I used to laugh.

So, being able to run around so easily, with the walker's huge wheels propelling me forward all the time, I decided to play a game with myself - I took the joy of running over my sister's toes, watching her scream. I was only two years old, you see, I was frail and tiny. My sister wasn't allowed to hit me, then.

Everyday, when I was lifted into the walker, I ran after my sister, and she'd run away, screaming. I'd be fast enough to catch up though, and many times, I made her cry. She cried so badly that my mum had to stop be from using the walker. But I was never punished, and it was still an entertainment to me.

However, as time passed and I found other alternatives of causing my sister pain, I realised that it was useless. It wasn't going to bring me any good. So, after a long period, I eventually learnt and also got so bored of my own little game that I finally stopped.

I'm thankful for her in my life though.

Just because?

They say that it will never come true.

Band camp was horrendous, and so tiring. 'Circuit training's and running up and down the school, sleeping on hard dusty floors and shivering through the cold night. It wasn't a very long camp, but it was still physically and mentally taxing and many of us could have dropped dead, and given up.

Oh, but at 0645 hours, 50 fatigue and aching half-asleep teenagers still fell-in before the flagpoles punctually. And enduring the nagging ache in our limps, we pushed ourselves through a series of physical activities. We ran, and pushed ourselves to what felt like somewhere close to our limits.

So, I started to wonder - how and why many of us, despite the sick feeling of cold sweat on our skins, went on with the trainings and endured it all the way? Was it just because it was instructions that were compulsory to follow? Or perhaps because it felt like a challenge - to prove ourselves able? Had I something to prove too?

Perhaps, perhaps.

Just another nightmare?

He told me that I will find it again.

She lay on the sofa, looking so adorable and so at peace. I wanted to throw my arms around her and cuddle her in my arms. Her soft white fur fell over her eyes as they fluttered to the rhythm of her heaving chest. And as I neared her, I could even hear her soft snore.

I called her name once, but she continued snoring, her heavy breathing was rather distinct now. So, I called her again, hoping to wake her a little, hoping not to give her a shock, but she didn't wake. I decided to pat her head gently, so I bent down and sat beside her.

As I did so, she jumped up and snapped at me, growling furiously. She glared at me, her fur still covering her eyes. I stepped away and tried to calm her down, calling her name repeatedly in a voice as soothing as I could muster. As she started to growl more intensely, I decided to go. She must have had a bad dream.

But bad dreams are scary; they never go away.

All the reasons.

Never failing to brighten up my day.

I can't find a word or a way to describe how thankful and utterly grateful I'm feeling now. For all the wonderful, beautiful people in my world, in my life. For all the joy, and for each and every smile they have brought to my face, my heart. I truly am, so so thankful.

No, this isn't to just a number of people I want to particularly thank now. It's more of a surge of appreciation I'm feeling towards everyone. And it's not something that finally sparked this gratitude off in me, but more of an accumilation.

I was thinking back and realised how everything and everyone around me has changed me, mostly for the better, in one way or another. And how many have helped me, so much, out of one of the crappiest times of my life. Oh, and how endless this feeling of gratitude is. I doubt ever finding a way to express... everything.

But for now, thank you.

A field of daffodils.

He's made me thankful.

eu·pho·ri·a /yuˈfɔriə, -ˈfoʊr-/ [yoo-fawr-ee-uh, -fohr-]
–noun Psychology.
a feeling of happiness, confidence, or well-being sometimes exaggerated in pathological states as mania.

Today's one of those days that everything's brighter, and everything glows more than they usually do. One of those days when you look out of the window and feel so thankful for everything around. For how the sun gives us warmth or how beautiful the sky is when blue.

Oh, and it makes me so thankful for the people in my life. The people who make me smile, and bring a feeling of joy to my heart. The people who help me make sense in my life all the time, everyday when things get darker. Oh, the wonderful feeling of warmth, so great, that they bring...

And gives me every reason to smile.

I tell myself that I made a vow.

Stand by me, and give me all the strength I might need.

Some people wear a cross around their necks, others have Buddha pendants, and some even have scriptures of an ancient language engraved in their bedposts as they submit themselves to the night. All I need, though, is to know that you'll always be there.

I carry you in my heart.

It's called self-preservation.

I want to be a snail.

On the way home, I saw two snails in my path. As I reached out to pick one up, but it drew back into it's shell and lay deep within as a way of defence. And so, I began to wonder what it'd be like to be a snail. To have a shell that you could withdraw into each day, anytime, anywhere; it'd always be there.

It hides for it fears it's soft body would be prodded at causing it a very sad death. It has its shell though, to offer it as much protection as it can get. I wonder how safe it feels each time it withdraws back into that hollow home on its back, how thankful it is that it can stay away from all the sadness and negativity in the world.

I decided I'll make myself my own shell.