Partly Unsent
It has been quite an idle day I would say, not much studying done. But I guess a break was good. Just got to pick up the momentum tomorrow. I have learnt to be more flexible. Had a pseudo farewell lunch with two family members, one of them is leaving this city tomorrow night. I don't think I will not see her for nearly 2 years as I may be making a journey in a different direction. I hope to be in the same city though, in this journey I am taking. At least there is some people who see me as who I am in that city. I realised though that our generation is much more mobile, and somehow, always searching. Well, that is the case at least for me and some friends.
Playing the song Blower's Daughter (by Damien Rice) over and over again has this numbing effect on my mind. It let's me go right to the bottom of melancholia, sort of like turning myself inside out and then I go to bed. Satisfied that I would not be disturbed by morbid thoughts and worries, because I would be so drained. No, it doesn't happen often, but when it does, I like to process it and go to sleep, without anyone involved.
I thought of having the kick-ass bowl of noodles I told you about for dinner again, but decided against it since I had the same yesterday night. I realised that I cannot take you to the shop that sells this noodles because of dietary restrictions. Well, I can show you where it is, but I can't explain the taste to you. Just like how I can't explain certain things to you. I will try nevertheless.
I will drive home in another 2 hours, probably accompanied by U2's songs or perhaps a dash of Shelley Leong. From your room, do you see the fabulous, majestic mountain range that hovers protectively beyond the city's horizon? Or is it the big wide green sea you see as the sunrise greets you? It is going to be a beautiful day tomorrow I hope, for you, and for me, for the world. In fact I hope for beautiful days everyday. Across the lake, I want to see the cityscape because it won't be long before I have to make my way away for a while.
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