Sunday was a good day.

after a messy and confusing Saturday, I'd decided to go for a visit at a new church. I didn't know what to expect, and I'd probably played all possible scenarios of all the possible events and people I'd meet in a new environment my brain could possibly ever churn out. to a certain extent, I guess I was scared even. scared of what was to come, scared of the people I'd meet, scared of my own feelings and thoughts toward what I'd see and what I'd come into contact with. I had the least sleep I ever had in the whole of this holidays on Saturday night, just thinking and thinking.

things turned out to be rather delightful; different from all the scenarios I'd thought of. I guess though I felt like the odd-one-out since I was new and all, I didn't feel like that much of one. to be honest, even after roughly a year or two with my own cell, how much I felt of myself being an oddball in this one Sunday amounted to barely a twelfth (an odd number, I know.) of how odd I felt each time I actually met with my own cell.

having lunch and just hanging out for a bit with the cell showed me quite an entirely different church and cell culture and as I took the bus home, I was just flooded with so many different thoughts on what affects my choices.

at the end of the day, I'm simply filled with thanks.

such thoughts in disarray are coupled with questions on what I should do next.

there is much to settle, and I haven't made a move to actually do so yet since the start of the holidays. I mean, I have, but none of the major ones have yet to be solved. taking into considerations my understanding of my own coping mechanisms, these problems, without a doubt, are beginning to fade and fall off.

-sigh- more holes, more emptiness. sometimes it seems otherwise, but the very fact is that it's the emptiness that hurts most. I'm falling asleep everyday struggling to fill these gaps that should have some form of resolution, a completed, peaceful and still image there, but all I see are black, endless, empty holes and tunnels that have no guiding lights ahead.

but then again, maybe it's just me.

always spending the holidays numbing myself to that void, and the school terms drifting from group to group.

drifting. somehow that word has a nice ring to it, but it never felt as nice. it's like we don't have a home, nowhere to return to, no anchor. just floating, drifting on and on and on, looking for somewhere, but getting nowhere.