Of My Moleskine Notebook

You can’t really compare the experience of being a piece in between thousands of bodies, stuck together by sweat, grime and a shared passion in one cause. Hanging on to your dear life with your arms around the people who you grew up knowing better than yourself. The bond only created by the profusion of DNA, live rock music, and experience. The bonds of old: renewed.

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Holding hands beneath the table in the auditorium; as the lecturer at the podium tries her best to preach the values of tolerance and harmony, while not actually practicing it herself.
Knowing that we are the only example of this; as my fingers encircle your palm, as your thumb slides down around my wrist: as we make a step into the unknown. Knowing, we are the epitome of what this class stands for. A bond that neither of us ever thought we’d know.

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The comfort of new strangers. Making space and making time to accommodate people unknown before.
Yong Tau Foo in the cafeteria before a rushed and soporific economics class. Slow walks to the cab stop to catch a ride to the mall, books : left behind. Heartfelt conversations about the new life that we share together, as we huddle in dirty cosy cafes. Finishing our iced teas before running back to campus in the rain.
Bonds made : new.