I’m reading Augusten Burrough again, “Running with Scissors”, since I’m reading from his latest book to his earlier books, he seemed to be getting better— which means, which means he’s actually getting shall we say, a little less interesting. But I like all 3 Augustens, hah.

I really liked this part, he said something very true.

“”You smoke?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. It was a habit I’d picked up from Natalie. At first, I was worried that Agnes or the doctor would be furious and not allow it. But they didn’t mind as long as “you don’t burn down the house”.

Neil pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit my cigarette.

“Thanks,” I said. Smoking had become my favorite thing in the world to do. It was like having instant comfort, no matter where or when. No wonder my parents smoked, I thought. The part of me that used to polish my jewelry for hours and comb my hair until my scalp was deeply scratched was now lighting cigarettes every other minute and then carefully stomping them out.

It turned out I had always been a smoker. I just hadn’t had any cigarettes.”

Its so sad and true.

I’m tempted to make a comment about this, talk about it, but I think it’d better be left the way it is, perceive it in your own way.

I remembered that I used to love color pencils, I would pester my parents to buy all sorts of them, and I’ll sharpen them as soon as I get home, but I never use them. When I have to use them in art and craft class, I would color my subjects lightly, very lightly, so that I wouldn’t have to sharpen them again, I didn’t want to lose a part of them unecessarily, I do lend them to my friends, because I could never say no.

I would flinch as I watched them color, I could never concentrate on my work whenever someone takes them, I feel terrible.

I know it is ridiculous, of all things, color pencils, I didn’t mind my pen, glue, eraser, even correction tape being used or treated in any way. I used to fuss over that pencil, remember, in my blog? Strangely, it has nothing got to do with me now.

I recently purchased a new box of color pencils, not because I like them, but I had to use them for IDMI and when I chose them, I chose the less costly one with a good quality, even though I should have liked the other box, the professional kind that costs twice as much. Gone with the childish fervour.. but when I started sharpening them, it all came back. I shrugged and continued coloring..

To me, the picture looked great, but when I showed it to my project partner, she told me to ‘color harder’. I thought I colored it ‘hard enough’? I remembered making sure I’d go over them twice, I even sharpened them twice.. So I sat down and watched her working on my color pencils, how a normal person colors.. And the same twitch in the eyelids, back then, it seemed to have been ingrained in me.

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