Dec. 15 feelings over the weekend.

***Photos are for great memory.

By accident, I reviewed all the pictures remained in my portable disk, and saw all those happy face that I get to see at least once a week. It’s not hard to understand why there weren’t any frown face in any pictures, since I can even hardly recall any chances we get to use that expression.
I miss you guys so much. I don’t like the feeling to be so far array from you guys and the music which always accompany us. It’s hard to share this feeling with the friend I have here. As I viewed all the pictures, all the funny things that said were retrieved again into my mind as if they all happened just yesterday.
Moving on with new friends, I felt a sudden lost of sharing. I hate the feeling not knowing whom to talk to, which reminds me the fact that I am alone.


***Friday night, I watched a movie with Neels and Laura.
The movie planned to watch about a doctor could not play and these we watched the movie I suggested which I loved: Save the Last Dance.
It's a movie I have love to much and watch for so many times which my eye would start to get wet before the tragic car accident happen, and know the lines Derick is about to say to Sara which I replay many times in order to note down every word of their conversation .

"I saw your face, like I saw when you were dancing few days ago. You were goofy happy!"
"What happened? You just woke up one day and decided to waste your talent?"
"How do you know I have talent, just because you saw me done some stupid leg trick?"
"... at least tell me something real."
"What if I don't want to be real? What I want is to wake up and see my mom again."
"It's my stupid dream that killed her. She was rushing to my audition and I was mad at here. I need her to be there."
......

The movie touched my most vulnerable part of the lost of my dear one, which I can't even imagine if I am ever able to overcome.
No talent should be wasted. But what is my talent? Is there a dream that we wanted to pursue so much that we never want to give up of?

My socialist flatmate sort of end the movie by the conclusion: well, it's a Hollywood movie. Because it's got a happy ending?
I surely wish they enjoy as much as I do, but the word he said is as if an insult of classless- to like/love such a Hollywood movie.
But what is wrong with that? Why should I care? I like the story, I like the music, and I like the dances.
Judgment could be harmful in someway.