When the news broke out on the official Dayre blog, I felt so crushed and I actually cried. I had my photos all wiped out after my phone had a software corruption and I have no choice but to reset it to factory settings and all the photos I have took since 2016 vanished just like this. I have even sought services in hopes to recover these precious photos back but the cost was a whoping $5-6k....

I'm uncertain if this decision is to conveniently force me to forget all the good memories I have made for the past 3 years, or more. I started Dayre with the intent to jot down my daily melancholy. I was in perpetual low spirits during the period, say April 2014 onwards, and I find it hard to pick myself up during that period of time.  

For a moment, I thought I had a mild depression at that point because I break out into tears with a snap of my fingers. I was a comical friend, as commented by most of my friends, but I find myself wallowing in sadness whenever I'm all alone. Superficial, pretentious, "For show", for all I beg to differ. The times I spent laughing hysterically with my friends were the actual times and the only time I was genuinely happy. Once I'm all alone, its as if a voice is telling me "Babe, have you forgotten all your problems?" Thats when I started to think frantically in which I couldn't pick myself up and this carried on for days, for weeks and even months.

It seemed that way...Shortly after, the 5 months of sadness was overwritten with new milestone and joy in my life. It was a delirious adventure. Many times, I found myself getting carried away exploring this aspect of mine..So much that I have forgotten about the main purpose I am sitting in the lecture theater. I did not care a hoot for all I know, this will be worth it. I see how things will work out eventually and I picture a perfect scene to paint. Well of course, nothing in this world comes off as a perfect form. I had my fair share of what we call, relationship woes, but somehow some what, magic works it way out and the flame continue burning. All the magic madness spiraled down and I have to come up with a decision, to decide what how the next chapter should be written. Its with heavy heart to say that, the passion extinguished. Amidst all the little sparks attempted to ignite the flame, the magic never works.

Its been more than 5 months and while I'm writing this, I'm questioning if the choice made was a rash one. Was I wrong to insist while crying away? As a 24 being, I can no longer relate to friends in confiding my problems but only to write them out hoping that I can again, scrape through the tunnel to reveal that light, no matter how tiny it will be. In all attempts deemed futile, at the end of the day...I wish that I can proudly said I've tried my best.