Tonight is the second night I’m sleeping in the other room.

No, we didn’t fight or anything.  Sarah is ill with a nasty bug so I’m the one quarantined in the guest room for another night.  

Being alone here in the dark reminds me of the nights back in my mum’s place when I was growing up.  My own space, my private sanctuary.  I always enjoyed solitude and since young, I’ve learnt to appreciate the quietness of being by myself.

Every night, I would turn off the lights, put some music on and sit by the window with a cigarette in hand.  I would think about everything – how life would be when I grew up, how much I would miss being alone when I’m with someone else.

Tonight those memories are coming back.  But things are so different now.  Life was so much simpler back then.  The only worries I really had was whether I could save enough from my pocket money so I could buy the next game, and how I would be so screwed the next day because my homework was still unfinished.

Tonight I’m sitting in the dark, banging away on my laptop while iTunes is playing Alison Krauss and Robert Plant’s Raising Sand (brilliant album, by the way) and feeling an overwhelming torrent of melancholy embracing me.

Maybe it’s a combination of prolonged lethargy from work or maybe I just needed the silence to be able to hear my own thoughts.  Whatever it is, I do treasure this private moment I have to myself because when I wake tomorrow, this night will be over and I return to my usual life, back to the grind.

How beautiful this fleeting moment is.  

Carpe Diem.

I truly believe that the dog is man’s best friend.

As much as I teach my little Angel all the right doggy behavior and the cute party tricks, once in a while, my little canine friend will teach me something about life which no other humans can.

Today is Angel’s birthday. She’s one dog year old, I think equivalent to 12 humans years. The past couple of months, she’s been through quite a bit. When she was three months old, she was fighting a severe infection that caused her lymph nodes to swell (vet said she had 50-50 chance to live). She has constant diarrhea because of her sensitive stomach, she went through a period of being tick-food. She had surgery complications when she got her tubes tied. And she spends most of the day at home by herself while we’re out at work.

But despite all these, I see in her eyes a beautiful exuberance for life every morning. Everyday is a brand new adventure. Whether she’s decorating the house, or helping us with our laundry. She doesn’t for one moment, think about and harp on all the terrible things that happened to her.

Carpe Diem. Isn’t that beautiful?

When was the last time you let something bad in the past go? When was the last time you woke up, stared in the mirror and told yourself that today, you will not live in pains or victories of yesterday, and live in that very moment?

I know I haven’t.

All my life, I’ve known people who can’t let go of the terrible things that happened to them – whether its their parents’ divorce, the loss of a loved one or a relationship gone sour. Every mistake they make in life, they blame it on that something. Every time they need an excuse for the decisions of the present, they bring up the events and memories of the past.

I’d like to live my life moving forward, not looking back. What’s past is past. What mistakes made are made. Yes, I’ve learned the lesson but I need to moved on. I might not be able to completely forget it, but I can certainly choose not to dwell in it. Every breath I take and every beat of my heart, is to keep me alive for the next few seconds. What good does it do to me trying to relive the past?

Thank you my furry canine friend, for showing me how to live for the moment.

Carpe Diem. Isn’t that beautiful?