emortified

amias came over to visit last thursday. for 3 days and 2 nights apparantely before heading off to sydney. it was pretty refreshing getting to see him again and somehow the shittiness of life just went away. but as life always has it, i was unable to spend the expected quality time with him as i had a last minute meeting which messed up our plans. somehow i felt really bad being unable to bring him to my usual haunts because of the shortage fo time. he even had to forgo his whale watching trip cos of heavy winds (and he had to travel all by himself down to the gold coast). and so we showed him brisbane to the best of our ability before sending him off. Davian and his 2 other friends came over the next evening on sunday and of course, it was refreshing to meet someone i knew again. his friends were pretty alright too. and again we hung out in the city (we could have gone to further places but the car was too small) and they had to leave the evening after.

one thing i found out though. after amias and davian left, i felt shitty again and the question of memories came back to my mind. is having 1 minute of a happy memory more worth it than a year of hell? because when you are in hell, thinking of that happy memory is enough to make you feel like shit. because you had and experienced that happy memory but know you can never get it back. i think i would rather not have that memory. because hell is hell and no matter what you do it will still be hell. the aftermath really sucks. and now i understand how cold my house is.

the sun took my light away
it even took away the shape of the moon
tomorrow never comes until it's too late