Twenty Thirteen, Friends.

It has begun.

Been alone most of the holiday season, I ain’t complaining this time. It’s nice to have time on my own. In those loneliest hours I learn to know who my friends really are. Or more of, who I am to them.

Apparently, it’s a very limited list. I guess I’m bad at keeping friends.

I crave for friends who doesn’t need Facebook to know how I’m doing. Have a two way street in communication. Who wouldn’t mind a conversation of how’s things at the moment. ‘Cause that’s just how I am, I can’t switch it off. After a while, I get tired, I just have to let it go.

I pray for friends that who wouldn’t mind me whining to them about how life sucks right now, and being fine with me being human, and just hoping for someone to listen - even if it means they can’t do much to help. That’s right, I should be praying.

Time comes for me to be a faded photo in your soon-to-be old treasure box. 

Alright, it’s okay. Guess it’s better to turn this way.