An ex-colleague of mine gave me a certain music album for my birthday last year. He thought I'd love it. Back in the days we'd use to talk endlessly about music and such, and my colleagues and I had a habbit of bringing our favorite CD to play that day, make the others listen to it and share what . There's always these little this and that that would jag my memory to make me miss them :)
Anyway, with the big stack of music piled away and the huge mess from house renovation, I never got to play the CD. Until tonight. I listened to it, and the only thing that came to my head was how good my colleague knew my taste. Even then he already had this way of joking about my quirky habbits which I wouldn't really realize about before. The music he gave me was a mixture of upbeat an mellow, somewhat mainstream, but still had the haunting quality that gets me into wishful thinking mode. Thus this blog :)
In the past few years living in Holland, I've got to know several people, none had really become a really really close friend, someone I'd call up impatiently every time something exciting happens. Or did that change when Its came in? I have pieces of stories I scatter here and there, but there's nobody who really has a lot of anything. In my race against the clock, accumulating knowledge, honing skills, did I leave out the more essential things?
Or do I leave it out because it's not that essensial to me anyway? Right. Since when did I not crave for intimacy? Or, is my need for intimacy so fulfilled that I only leave scaps behind? I've got a wonderful husband, whose main goal in life seems to be to make me happy, even though it means listening to my jabbering for hours a night, or follow my whimsical wants - he's like a drug that seeps in slowly, before you know it's already too late, you know its an addiction you can't get rid of, even if you wanted to. I have a group of such dear friends that I've learn to know over the decade. We're scattered in different continents, but these girls are in my blood, through the lines they write down they cruise through my vein, and I can laugh and cry and feel so alive just because of a few lines.
Maybe the need isn't that crucial. Because I already have more than enough.