I feel a funny emptiness in myself. Where and why - or who it's for, I'm still trying to tell. It might be just a bad mix of hormones. But it's just dragging me really low, into a deep, black hole.

Or maybe I just felt a yearning to write - to draw - or maybe just to do something with my hands that have lain idle for some time.

What else is there for me to grasp and what else is there for me to give up? My current job, my studies, my coming convocation, my further studies... My brother is going off to Kuching. I feel a ridiculous urge to cry. Unwittingly, tears come unbidden. They almost scared me, as I felt this familiar warmth in my eyes.