Since morning.

The past two days have been rather interesting.

Considering the fact that I've skipped the after-school bus twice in a row and trading in my usual lonely evenings for some company... In the hospital. It's hard to describe my feelings towards these white, sombre buildings but hospitals will always have that kind of effect on me- such that the world would suddenly stop spinning and all attention would be focused onto people from all walks of life, and by that I mean, ALL WALKS OF LIFE, for being at that very place for different reasons.

There's the Mercedes Benz that sits in its regular bay, always first to come and last to go; with an extra white coat kept in the boot. A lady walks out of the car, with an air of great importance as her mind is running twice as fast as her strides, mentally matching names of patients needing endoscopy and colonoscopy so as not to mix them up. She makes her rounds, gives out prescriptions, prepares for an emergency surgery and makes her way back to her Merces, mind still running on the face of her last patient.

Then you'll have the average Myvi that parks alongside every other visiting car, and along with one car comes out at least four young women all dressed in uniform colour and bringing up their daily "butter and bread" to the people, and for the people they serve. These are the fairies that make up an enchanted garden, even though our human nature has made it such that-not all of what we see is pure goodness but still- Thank God for nurses. From my personal experience of being a patient and seeing my Potato friend be a patient herself, the nurses are there to lighten up the grim, dark hallways and make people feel better about being there. They say more than hello upon greeting, cracks joke once in a while, or even if no words are said, the smile would always come. Maybe it was a compulsory part of their nursing course. Oh, but the senior nurses smile like a pro, Kate Middleton style.

There's also the motorcycle, that comes every two hours with a new takeaway of food, pillows, blankets and a visitor's pass as the rider makes his way to a general ward, grabbing the daily news as he'd go. He comes into Ward 103, with a new code to remember due to the lastest change in ward seating, and takes a seat beside a woman in her early twenties, his hand gently stroking her temples as she sleeps through another afternoon before she would wake up two hours later and not recognize the man holding her hand any more.

Well, trips to the hospital might come to me as a "once in a while" occurrence, but for Potato, it was second home and has always been and will be, a part of her life. Today, we watched "Memento" as she still had a bag of blood left to go. I asked her for how long she has been in the ward for-

"Since morning,"
"I wonder how you go through all these hours of just waiting,"

She has no choice. But from how I see it, years and years of going through the same thing moulds her for the long waits. It's just the thought of having of to be alone. When loneliness hits, it's really like a state of desolate isolation, and you're one person against the world. People can come and go, but you wonder if there's someone who would come just for you. Urgh... My nonsensical side is showing... Crap.

I'll tell you a bit about a friend, who would say that he always felt lonely in the past, and lived walking past dark corridors with no one to understand him. It wasn't just loneliness but on his half, he felt like he had no purpose;and that he wasn't important. It's really funny how the people most worthy of love never think that they are capable of giving so much, and how precious the value of trust is, as fragile as a dying heart... All I can say is that those deserving of love, will eventually receive love when it comes. And dear friend, I pray that no matter where you'll end up in the tide of times, love will always come to your side.

I'm trying to learn up the art of writing in the NOW. Yesterday, my trials ended with a rainy evening. Today, I bring my results home to a dreamy, sunny evening and I get the expected downplaying from my dear old folks-

"It's an improvement, no doubt. But to say that we are proud... Hmm..."

SNAP.
I KNEW IT.
Always "nearly" there, but never crossed the line of satisfactory.
Looks like, until then...

I'll be having higher priorities to attend to.
It hurts me so much to give up what I love for something that I am forced to love.
Sigh.
Looks like God's already preparing me for adulthood.

Well, really, all I need:

Is to learn how to hold my liquor better.

That's it. Then, I live as a real woman.


Put your cups up,
and down...
Goodnight Hae.

I swear that I'm not drunk now.