Another year.

Remember when we were small, we tried to write diary even it's little stuffs like what you ate during recess.

When we get older days are repeating, work, rest, another day, sometimes dinner with friends etc. And diary just doesn't work anymore, perhaps a journal once a month, or even like now, a year.

Just to remember my past year, since I started working in my 23rd year, and I've been changing from a student, to a freshmen in society, and more surprisingly, from an advertising agency, to an university institution.

Everyday is an experience, sometimes exciting, yet sometimes depressed, sometimes harsh, and sometimes frustrating. But I get to understand what REALITY means, and how does it differ from a dream. I admire those who achieve their dreams, and am definitely jealous of those who still have a passionate for their dreams.

It may sound pathetic, but I will still wish my dreams come true, deep down in my heart, and waiting for this day.