J a n i n e from Singapore.



Whoever you are, hello and thanks for dropping by! :)
Currently pursuing Japanese as a third language :D
I post quotes and pictures which I relate to ^^

Freedom of Emptiness

To not let go is to memorize a particular moment to the point of madness.

It’s the only photograph you had taken together, buried within the pages of your favorite book; that one about love by Alain de Botton — the one your father gave you. It’s knowing that it’s safe there, protected from the often cruel movements of the outside world, immortalized in the only way you know how. It’s the way you still care.

To not let go is to allow the moments of our past to seep into our present, filling every line and crack with insanity-inducing nostalgia; the kind that rips and tears at you in the gentlest, most relentless kind of way. It’s us letting our memories define the way we move.

To let go would be to surrender: to our daily experiences, to new impressions and new definitions — ones which, though perhaps less immediately entrancing, carry the freedom of non-association, the freedom of emptiness. Please know that nothing in the world is quite as beautiful as emptiness; the way it swells with untouched, unbridled potential – the way it lets in new light, lets in new love.

Extracted from This Is How We Let Go

The Cycle which has Stopped

How do you put heartbreak into words? There isn’t an adjective in any language that can accurately describe it. There’s no way to explain your heart breaking and what’s even scarier is that there’s no way of telling it to stop. You wake up in the morning thinking your heart is whole and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get through the day today. Then you’re driving to school or work, a song comes on, and that’s when visual pictures of memories flash through your mind. Then you’re really screwed and every time you think of him or her; a little piece of your heart feels like it breaks off inside of you.

One by one you feel all these pieces shatter and you swear that you can feel them falling slowly throughout your body, each one’s edges stabbing you on the way down. Your heart’s broken but your whole body hurts. Then you get into bed at night, thankful to be back in a safe haven under the covers where you can cry alone and not be judged for being so weak to another human being, when all of our lives we are taught to be independent. And after a silent moment in the dark, you swear that your heart is completely crushed and it just can’t hurt anymore, so you fall asleep praying to God that you don’t dream of them for another night in a row. Then you wake up the next morning with, somehow, a whole heart again but like clockwork, the cycle starts over and the pieces begin to fall.

So where is the eye-opening part of this? You don’t know yourself until you’ve had your heart broken. Maybe your heart was made strong in order to carry the pain for another, whether or not the other will admit that their heart needed to be carried in the first place. Or maybe you were meant to pick up the pieces alone in order to learn how to love yourself first before you let anyone else love you. But no matter how many days you go waking up with a complete heart that slowly breaks over the course of 24 hours, the next day it is always magically whole again. Over time, the jagged edges will eventually dull out from poking you and slowly but surely, less and less of the pieces will fall throughout the days until one morning, you wake up waiting for the cycle to begin again, but it doesn’t.

Extracted from Different Hearts, Same Heartbreak

It’s Dear September~ Sigh.

I really haven’t had the time to myself for this past week or so.

The 4 things: CCA, Projects, Family, 10-day trip.
(Pretty much spammed, read if interested :3)

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