Letters and cards.
It is the weekend again. I woke up early for some breakfast with the sister before running some errands. Then, I decided to do another round of packing. Maybe it has become some sort of a means to relieve stress for me now. As a matter of fact, I have been rather stressed out of late, with work piling up and to be precise, work that requires a lot of brain power and time. I like that I am intellectually challenged, finally, yet at the same time, I often ponder over why some people react in certain ways. I guess we can never see and know all types of personalities in this world. People are just, amazing.
So I cleared another box of letters and cards. The last box I figure. I suppose the total number of letters and cards I had kept over the last few years should add up to four or five hundred, if not more. The oldest card dated back to 1999, that is almost two decades from now. I could jolly well lift the whole box of letters and dump them into the chute, but I decided to go through them the last time, lest I missed out anything important. Some of them, I could easily recognise who they were from by looking at the handwriting. That was also why I chose not to open some of them. I knew somehow there was no need to reminisce. There were those I knew at the tip of my fingers what content was written but I just had to read them again. On a hysterical note, there were also some whose handwriting was too illegible I could not make out who wrote them.
For once, I actually have the feeling that I actually created impact in some people's lives. It may or may not be eternal, but I do think the handwritten or handmade cards were ways to say thank you to me. Some of them were such close friends, today we probably do not even keep in touch anymore. Some letters were written before the writer decided to take his or her own life. I have no idea where they are in life now. There were also some pacts made in writing, but we never really fulfilled them anyway. In any case, I think that pretty much made up my growing years, because all these years I have never stopped writing to people, nor stopped receiving notes and letters. I had liked how during every spring cleaning, some contents in the notes were great reminders of how things used to be and could be made better. But perhaps, I think it is about time I stop attaching too much sentimental value to these little things.
As I read on before I discarded the whole box of letters and cards, I began to realise that in the last five years, most of the notes were from the same few people who have been sticking around. I may not know what the future will bring, but I think I am quite certain by now who I want to keep in my life. I used to secretly think that these notes would come in handy for reminiscing sake should I lose these people someday. Now it strikes me that there is no point in keeping those notes anyway if I should lose these people.
And then I discarded the whole big box of notes with ease.
So I cleared another box of letters and cards. The last box I figure. I suppose the total number of letters and cards I had kept over the last few years should add up to four or five hundred, if not more. The oldest card dated back to 1999, that is almost two decades from now. I could jolly well lift the whole box of letters and dump them into the chute, but I decided to go through them the last time, lest I missed out anything important. Some of them, I could easily recognise who they were from by looking at the handwriting. That was also why I chose not to open some of them. I knew somehow there was no need to reminisce. There were those I knew at the tip of my fingers what content was written but I just had to read them again. On a hysterical note, there were also some whose handwriting was too illegible I could not make out who wrote them.
For once, I actually have the feeling that I actually created impact in some people's lives. It may or may not be eternal, but I do think the handwritten or handmade cards were ways to say thank you to me. Some of them were such close friends, today we probably do not even keep in touch anymore. Some letters were written before the writer decided to take his or her own life. I have no idea where they are in life now. There were also some pacts made in writing, but we never really fulfilled them anyway. In any case, I think that pretty much made up my growing years, because all these years I have never stopped writing to people, nor stopped receiving notes and letters. I had liked how during every spring cleaning, some contents in the notes were great reminders of how things used to be and could be made better. But perhaps, I think it is about time I stop attaching too much sentimental value to these little things.
As I read on before I discarded the whole box of letters and cards, I began to realise that in the last five years, most of the notes were from the same few people who have been sticking around. I may not know what the future will bring, but I think I am quite certain by now who I want to keep in my life. I used to secretly think that these notes would come in handy for reminiscing sake should I lose these people someday. Now it strikes me that there is no point in keeping those notes anyway if I should lose these people.
And then I discarded the whole big box of notes with ease.
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