What about my star?

Sorry, I would have entered something earlier but I needed to clear my mind of excess.

I found the summer to be slightly warmer, but things have become colder for me on the inside. Of course, since Alex came back for the two or so weeks, I had a lot of fun connecting with old friends, new friends and continuing friendships, but I find that I have become more detached to them.

This summer, I had the chance to do a nice long ride with Ryan, Patrick and Albert. I like those sort of rides. They’re tough and challenging. It is a sole challenge. It’s not painful in the sense where I am not enjoying myself. It’s because I cycle a lot that whatever physical challenges I meet, I am prepared enough for it.

Of course, that isn’t even the topic of this entry. When I started this, I had a massive urge to say something but now, I’ve very quickly lost that urge. I don’t even know what I want to say any more. It’s like there are all these thoughts but I just don’t feel like telling anyone about them. Back then, I just vented excess thoughts. Today, my excess thoughts are personal to the level where they can only benefit me and no one else. In other words, not that my prior entries were beneficial to my readers, but back then, my thoughts were just things I needed to get rid of.

Today, there aren’t any thoughts I truly need to get rid of. I guess what I’m trying to say is that there was a time when I needed my thoughts heard or seen, even when half of them were random bits. However, nowadays, the thoughts that swirl in my mind and my heart are so personal that they only really work inside of me.

For example, last weekend, Ryan, Pat and I went on a 5 hour hike at Buntzen Lake Diaz Vista trail and got lost half way through. To cut the story short, it was pitch black by the time we found ourselves out. Along the last hour of our hike, I thought of calling home to tell my mom I’ll be staying at Pat’s place, but I couldn’t justify a viable excuse because I didn’t want to tell we were most likely lost and had to spend overnight in the forest under the pouring rain where bears were known to roam.

We ended up being ‘rescued’ by the park rangers, at least I think they were. We went to Pizza Hut afterwards and then I got home by 10pm. The hike itself was quite nice, but it really killed my lower back and my feet were hurting like mad. However, I was able to witness this…

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If you want to see more pictures of our hike, go here: http://www.40kclub.com/.

The epic bike ride I mentioned earlier went from my place in Richmond all the way to Deep Cove in North Vancouver. If you take a look at the picture, Deep Cove is marked there. The ride was a little of 76 kilometres. So the above picture gave me another perspective of our previous ride. It’s nice to be up there atop the mountain and ‘look back’ at one of our past events.

When we took our break there, I looked at Deep Cove and thought, “We were just there a few weeks ago. How cool is that?”

I want more of those types of memories, where I can go places and then go somewhere else and ‘look back’ to remember memories of not that long ago. I mean, when I was in Hong Kong, I liked to wander around the village and along the river because only 40 years ago, my parents were in their teens and they fished there, played there and worked nearby. They had their simpler lives. They had a life where they remembered to this day.

So, where are my memories? Where are my memories located? Who will I remember? Will I forget who I was or will I continue to remember my memories?

Sometimes in the once or twice that ever happened, I would either ride, walk or drive pass a certain spot at Stanley Park and something in my heart would ache momentarily for a split moment. I would look around and realize that I was there before, a long time ago when my mom and dad was still quite young and I was just a baby, before my brother was born. It would be that exact same light, that same ambiance and I would remember it, but not from the perspective of a picture taken all those years ago but through my perspective as I sat on my mom’s lap, not really knowing much about anything back then.

I don’t want to take anything for granted. Yet it seems like I do.

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