Well I hardly write anything personal in my blog nowadays. Din seem the need to and whatever that have been happening or rather going through my mind all the while isn't much anyway.

But now I'm in this nostalgic mood and I guess most people who loves me know why as I have already informed them of the news.

A new environment will be a great change, with my own personal space and a new exciting thing to do with my angels, like going to IKEA together and stuff, but because it is nonpermanent, you kinda don't feel so excited over it. Afterall, it's not exactly yours, so why do so much.

And the dready look how much stuff I have in my house notion of packing all up in boxes and boxes is quite sian. Clearing up, throwing aways. Will be a good DA SHAO CHU which my family doesn't have the tradition to. And of course, the very practical and whole reason for it. Life will be easier for the folks, hence us. We'll all be happier.

But how would they feel, to leave this place they put everything in. How much they've gone through, and ponder on to do this or to do that about it. How they work their lives away to see us through our education, but not being able to live in what that has their name to it. If only I know how they feel. And we feel sad because we don't have enough to buy another pair of shoes.

Having said all these, it's just this thing about having stayed in this home, this room since I was 9, and about when I started to really remember things. So now, here, on my bed now, I look about the room and want to remember everything about it. From the time I moved in, still remembered buying stuff from IMM Jurong, which was then some prestige thing you need a member's card to make purchases, to designing the decor section above my bed with my ornaments which I no longer fancy and the whole aircon leak hooha where a hole was drilled through to my toilet to fix the pipe.

And I'd leave this place permanently in a month's time. This pose, this lying on the bed seeing the room, the too small for my amount of clothes wardrobe on my far left, my messy pink table which never sees light, my sis and Fe on my right, always disturbed by my late night calls, my toilet just 3 steps away. The stupid jokes we crack and laugh like mad, using our pillow to stifle the sound. My sweeties, ppl who lie in or on the bed with me, to talk about life or just to be comfy.

It may not be the prettiest room, and I'm not missing it because it's a big house, but just the very room I spend 1/3 of my life warmth under the blanket, another 1/5 doing my work. The place I struggled through my PSLE, my O's, my A's. That Pink table. The home I missed when I was in the hall, like a baby I wanted to go home.

It just feel so weird.