The year passed by like water flowing over deep green river bed, clear, swift, or like a movie, now showing in front of me. I was writing a timeline of what I did this past year, yet then sketches can not capture those thoughts at sleepless nights from the perpetual heart broke, heat and noise lying at the small room at the hometown, or reflections while seeing the Ankor Wat glistering under the evening sun, the heart weighted a little by the feeling of in the mood for love, or the wonders from reading words by Pamuk, or the simple tenderness of feeling being needed and counted on although I actually counted on them, and the precious moments of knowing and feeling proud for those who have tried and triumphed. "You can count on me", who is the giver and the receiver. The year is a year of true life, at its very bare, essential and lively of pure living and reflecting, no polishing of any sort with those previous home visiting rush and superficial grandeur. I travelled, but also stayed at home a lot to be with my parents. I am still wondering how it has shaped me for the better and revitalized me, I hope it has been good for me. I feel that way. I was happy for the first time with myself, not counting on others to make me happy and understand one can love without the ownership.
And we wish for a happy New Year, don't we always say that at this time of the year and hope for the best.
I am grateful.