Once in a while I would go back to read about my dreams and things I thought of. Then I'd be glad I kept this thing going for so long.

Now with a job I'm starting to regain the little things that at the very least allows me to stand on my feet once again. The destruction path left since last year in my life is slowly being cleaned up. The cost of this have been lost of loves and passions that I once understood.

But my cat has new toys, so it's all balanced out.

At the meantime dreams of pasts still haunts me. Somethings in my recent life I wondered if they've just came in at a wrong time. If they were meant to be... why is it so difficult? Why do people disappear? Why would I let them go?