i always thought that... if you wished and hoped hard enough, it'd come true. it's naive really, this thinking, but then it never stopped giving me hope that one day, just one day, something i wish really hard for will come true.

i took a mini-hiatus, for many reasons, of which one was because i still wanted to see the blog posts i wrote on my dad's demise and how i felt so i could be reminded time and time again; another reason being simply because i have nothing much to say. i still tear now and then when i am alone, thinking about all the things i could have done; i get angry every now and then thinking about how much responsibilities financially wise i have to take up now. It is a good thing that i seldom splurge on expensive goods, but it also means whatever plans I have made to go back into proper ballroom dancing have to be put on infinite hold.

Never has a day passed when i don't wake up thinking if we would be evicted from our house today. and still, sometimes i wake up crying in the middle of the night, missing dad and wondering if he'd heard me. this current place we've lived for the past 20 years belongs to dad's company, and since dad left no will, i guess everything kinda rolls to his family. it probably is sooner or later that we'd be chased out i guess. things died down slightly after dad's cremation, and heard now the office is in a mess.

i spent one week hoping and hoping the other family would change their minds, and then it didn't happen. our only updates were from relatives, who, in my honest opinion, thinks it's easy for us to stay away but all i really wanted to do is to scream at them and ask if they'd really understand what we felt.

the company was understanding about my plight, with my leave and the compassionate leave given, i spent a week away from work and at home. yet i couldnt bear staying at home. neither could i stand being in a crowd. i went back on flight the first day, a hong kong turnaround, and into hong kong, this guy was the last to leave the plane. he stared out the window, and when i gently reminded him that we've reached, he looked at me with tears in his eyes, and somehow a feeling i could reconcile with. looking down, i saw him holding a picture of his family. and en route back to singapore, during landing i teared silently in the darkness of the galley.

the next 2 flights were alright, because i had friends with me. but i am now alone in rome, finished a plate of lousy pasta (such audacity!) from the hotel because i didn't feel good enough to go out, and every minute awake screams murder. i spent money just to be online, to be connected with friends, and yet no one could comfort me much. i don't blame them. it's just me.

i crave for that companionship now, and for someone to just cave into my demands and my ridiculous outbursts, for me to rant and vent and just swallow all that like... a sponge, but i realise i can't do that unless i get a dummy.

so i'm pretty fucked up.

and yeah. rome is pretty only if we have transport into town because the two days we are here, transportation is either on strike or having some green day action thing where no vehicles should be on the roads. and it gets back to working conditions tomorrow, the day we leave. it's a good thing i've been here before, and that i didnt really intend to go out much because i am feeling ill still, otherwise i would feel even more fucked up than ever.