The great part about life is that sometimes you think you know, but you don’t. On the exact opposite end, you’ve given up, thinking you know nothing but a speck of dust in your life, and yet you know so much more than that. It’s just unwritten. Or in most cases, inexpressable.

My life is such right now.

I set my foot in front of my apartment door, thinking – what on earth…
Life’s pleasures, indeed. You never know what you have until it’s gone.
For me, it’s almost gone.

The five-week break away from Melbourne feels like a system-cleaning of sorts. I came back and it was all strange familiar. I knew where to turn, I knew where everything exactly is. But the walls are too white, too new, too clean, too high, everything is too… neat and perhaps spacious, even. Call me crazy, but I think my room is a proof of me being a spoilt brat for the past twelve months. I guess “taking things for granted” is unavoidable at all cases, big and small.

To call the apartment I’m losing perfect is an understatement. This is my New York posh living, if you want to put it that way.

So yes I’ve ben a spoilt brat, and while I want to be more humble in any possible way, I don’t want to leave this space. It’s almost like it’s the one comfort blanket left while I take a plunge at this already-wavy 2007. Apartment-hunting is a mess. Finances are in even bigger mess. Sometimes I wonder if accomodation matters will ever leave me alone, just for once.

It’s uncanny that I’ve just come back from watching The Holiday at Hoyts. I stepped into this space and I found myself from a third person’s point of view. I didn’t realise how much I actually put into this place until I arrived this late morning. It’s bizzare how this whole thing unfolds in front of my eyes.

For now – I’m itching at invisible monsters dusts.
And of course, soaking in this luxury lifestyle of mine.