It was pouring and chilly yesterday morning – but the office air was stale, and i don’t know how, or when, it started – but when the rain came down it washed away the coating that’s been preventing nostalgia from entering the pores.
the thought of the day, that struck, can be likened to the disarrangement of the sharp shock one gets from sinking their teeth in vanilla ice cream.
- But i miss Freo. 17th February, walking around in this little township by the beach. Finding a gem like The Grumpy Sailor, charmed by the beautiful interior, and a satisfying cup of affogato that brought only pleasure. i miss Eli too. my best friends.
- there’s this array of negativity that’s been accumulating over the week, much as the amount of positive events had. i don’t exactly know why, or what there is to be upset over. it should be content, with things running on autopilot, albeit mundane. my anger runs like the silhouette of a lion’s. yesterday left me pretty flustered and confused by W, but that’s okay. or maybe not. my siblings. drive. me. mad, all the time. i guess what i loved most about yesterday was going home to mango puffs with mom – dessert, dessert goes to the heart. not the curry rice, nor the surprise from the colleagues at work from the conversion to short hair. although, i didn’t want to go home after W dropped me off at Bugis.
- i went to look up on how to meditate. still trying.
- also, snipping my locks off: mainly for Locks of Love. in setting the date – off with the hair, it was also supposed to be about coming to a firm conclusion and decision about life, and things that’s been happening of late: but to no avail. all that i have concluded thus far is that a) i hate sales, b) death by smothering, if i were to transit to a corporate/mundane office job of routine, c) as much as i have been meeting people over the last few weeks, solitude is still a must. and there really isn’t much going on in life these days, d) growing up is altogether a maddening process, and being an adult seems nothing but bleak. much as i yearn for liberation and independence, i really don’t want to grow up, not for now.
- i know, i know, i know. I know why the caged bird sings.
Friday? end of a work week, but there is much to be sorted out, and matters of the heart no less.
i heart px (typed by px, the fellow intern)