HOORAY THE EXAMS ARE FINALLY OVER FOR ALL OF US(EXCEPT THE FORM 3,5 PEEPZ) ".'"; \O/ ;"'."
Hello there. Keepfit live on 409blog.
So..... my history in 409
I've lived here for what... 4 years. And i haven't gotten slimmer yet even though i take lotsa stairs =.=" Never mind....Let's get on with my history with 409.
It all began on a rather gloomy day in December, 2004.
I remember that most of my family members had the heart to ship me off to prison. I don't remember much about the dreaded car ride, though. The thought of staying there, independent,alone, frightened me into submission.My mind was full of the lonely nights i'd spend, crying myself to sleep on the alien bed in an alien environment.
All this was going through my brain as we were having dinner. My dad didn't say a word, Only asked us to eat up.
And after tasteless mouthfuls of egg tofu and garlicky veg, time went by faster than a speeding truck. The Hostel, a.k.a the prisonera for the later years to come.
It stood there, looming and forbidding. I could swear that thunder clouds were gathering above my former skies of azul blue.
Promising to save the tears for last, I heaved my heavy feet up the gloomy flights of steps, feigning impatience and irritability.
My room, 409, was right at the end of the long, narrow walkway, right next to the W.Cs.
Some joyful chatter was heard, obviously the peasant greetings from another fellow roommate from the year before. I daren't raise my head up. A wallflower I was then, Like the wallflower I am now. Bpxes crowded almost every available nook and cranny, filled with books, stuffed toys, pillows... I still remained wordless.
In some considerable effort to brightened my spirits, my dad offered to take a photo, aiming the camera at me. Surprisingly, the camera didn't burst into flames at my sour puss face and searing eyes. My dad, suddenly realising that this probably wasn't the best time, took that single photo, and till today, when i look back at it, i can still feel the hurt i felt 3 years ago, the shame of being unwanted, the fragility of my soul.
I felt dumb, useless as I floundered helplessly with the dusting cloth and disinfectant. Everything had ot be wiped, swept, sprayed and sparkled by my maid, and my mom. My grandma made small talk with the others in my room, asking them to take good care of me.
They left after the cleaning and the tight embraces, My heart begging them not to leave, to say that it was all a bad dream, while my mouth conveniently said the exact opposite.When they left I went to the bogs for a wee.Behind the locked plastic door and safe from prying eyes, my tears began to fall, reminding myself of the sorry and frazzled state I was in. For the next 2 months, the same cubicle became my tiny place of refuge.
And this was the beginning of my days in the hostel.
~That's it for now.... ^^ Hope ya enjoyed it!!
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Hello there. Keepfit live on 409blog.
So..... my history in 409
I've lived here for what... 4 years. And i haven't gotten slimmer yet even though i take lotsa stairs =.=" Never mind....Let's get on with my history with 409.
It all began on a rather gloomy day in December, 2004.
I remember that most of my family members had the heart to ship me off to prison. I don't remember much about the dreaded car ride, though. The thought of staying there, independent,alone, frightened me into submission.My mind was full of the lonely nights i'd spend, crying myself to sleep on the alien bed in an alien environment.
All this was going through my brain as we were having dinner. My dad didn't say a word, Only asked us to eat up.
And after tasteless mouthfuls of egg tofu and garlicky veg, time went by faster than a speeding truck. The Hostel, a.k.a the prisonera for the later years to come.
It stood there, looming and forbidding. I could swear that thunder clouds were gathering above my former skies of azul blue.
Promising to save the tears for last, I heaved my heavy feet up the gloomy flights of steps, feigning impatience and irritability.
My room, 409, was right at the end of the long, narrow walkway, right next to the W.Cs.
Some joyful chatter was heard, obviously the peasant greetings from another fellow roommate from the year before. I daren't raise my head up. A wallflower I was then, Like the wallflower I am now. Bpxes crowded almost every available nook and cranny, filled with books, stuffed toys, pillows... I still remained wordless.
In some considerable effort to brightened my spirits, my dad offered to take a photo, aiming the camera at me. Surprisingly, the camera didn't burst into flames at my sour puss face and searing eyes. My dad, suddenly realising that this probably wasn't the best time, took that single photo, and till today, when i look back at it, i can still feel the hurt i felt 3 years ago, the shame of being unwanted, the fragility of my soul.
I felt dumb, useless as I floundered helplessly with the dusting cloth and disinfectant. Everything had ot be wiped, swept, sprayed and sparkled by my maid, and my mom. My grandma made small talk with the others in my room, asking them to take good care of me.
They left after the cleaning and the tight embraces, My heart begging them not to leave, to say that it was all a bad dream, while my mouth conveniently said the exact opposite.When they left I went to the bogs for a wee.Behind the locked plastic door and safe from prying eyes, my tears began to fall, reminding myself of the sorry and frazzled state I was in. For the next 2 months, the same cubicle became my tiny place of refuge.
And this was the beginning of my days in the hostel.
~That's it for now.... ^^ Hope ya enjoyed it!!
