The Age of Penmanship

As the blog title suggests, I did something interesting yesterday: Practicing my penmanship or rather, learning how to do Western Calligraphy!

Above is an example of my Before and After handwritings. It may not be that impressive but it IS something ^^

#normal day

Bus Stop Anology

Walking down the wet cobbled path that has been ever so familiar to me in the past few weeks that i started my internship, I stopped at my usual spot at the bus stop and drew in a deep breath. To which, as I normally do, started thinking up the many reasons why I should feel positive despite the ever gloomy outlook I've been having.

After a few seconds, i snapped out of my reverie, remembering that i was waiting for my bus and looked down the road to see if it had turned around the corner yet.

And that was when i saw it.

How everybody was doing the same thing. Looking down the road for their buses. Glancing down at their own distractions i.e. phones or newspapers before ultimately looking back up. And i wondered. Isn't this how love work sometimes? Or actually, always?

Take for example the fact that we look up so many times in a minute to see if the bus we're waiting to board has arrived yet. Isn't that what we always do? Not the every minute part of course. Without noticing it, we are always looking around for that one person to hopefully, spend the rest of our lives with. 

How about the the people who take forever before looking up from their phones or book and end up missing their bus. I call that missing the right guy or sacrificing the chance in meeting him/her because they have been so caught up in life.

And what about those who are distracted but at the last minute, were able to catch the bus? Well, I call them the bitches who stumbled upon love so easily. 

And then there are the romantics... or maybe the desperate ones. Who always keep looking down that road. Waiting for the bus that is always going to take a while before arriving at the destination or at the right time it was supposed to. The people who have been anxiously searching when they should have just let nature take it's course.

I'm not even halfway through! What happens to those at the wrong bus stops? waiting for the wrong buses? 

It became an endless question in my mind.

And how about the category i am under?

Then I knew... or decided (either one, I don't care). That I'm not in any of what i thought above. Because I'm not the one waiting for the bus. 

I'm the one in it. 

I'm going to be that girl that one wonderful, hopelessly funny guy out there is waiting for. And when he climbs on board and see me (and vice versa), something in us will just click... and we'll know for sure.

Because I believe in that kind of love.