Dirty hands

I remember some time back, I told shihao to buy me some kimchi seaweed back only to refuse to meet him because I thought it was evil to meet him just for greedy purposes. Only yesterday did I realise that it is even more evil to not meet him because hello! You think the seaweed is easy to bring back is it? It's big and bulky and annoyingly hard to transport. But owells, it's already history and we aren't history textbooks.

I'm on the plane as I type this and the clouds and setting sun outside is kind of therapeutic. It is calming and soothing. I thought of my father. How when he skyped me, he was telling me how much he misses his 2 daughters who are away at the same time and how the house is so unusually quiet with just the 2 of them. I told him hey! this is going to happen next time too you know. He just nodded his head and changed the topic. How emo is this, my dear dad. Haha!

These fluffy clouds are now turning grey. The sun is setting. Just 2.5 hours more to arrival at Singapore.

Seeing is believing. No, I don't want to until you tell me to.

The dark sea of clouds, with a long line of orange on top. The second hand is ticking, ticking, ticking. The grains of sand are falling, falling, falling. And my mind goes racing, racing, racing.

And because you want to fight over such silly things, I'll fight with you. I don't wish to stand firm on this, but don't force me.


//july on the fence