"Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don’t go along with that. The memories I value most, I don’t ever see them fading."

Oh wow, hello.

If the virtual world was a family member and one of them disappeared for such a long time (like yours truly), I would have totally called the police. But yeah, you know, disappearances are common.

I guess one of the few, but significant reasons why I just stopped writing is that I read a lot at work. I have to proof read contents that are very proper. Why, you ask? Because that's work. But I'm very thankful for the fact that work has rekindled my lost relationship with books. I absolutely adore reading, but I just didn't make time for it. And because of the excessive amount of work-reading, I often compensate myself with reading good book.

And by a good book, I mean the kind that affects your emotions throughout, and you feel like crap realising that only two pages are left, and you take like five days to read the last two pages. After which, you feel like crap (phase two). All the grievances you had in the process of reading the book came flooding back to your mind because the story simply amazing - and trust me, there are very few things in life that impresses me. Reading is one of them, and authors of really good books are another.

 I JUST completed Kazuo Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go.

And it really didn't let me go. I should really create a blog on book reviews, so that I can read all of my emotions when I've collected them proper.