A rainy morning…

I woke up at 5am, for the third consecutive days. I tried to hid back under the lovely blanket. I was hoping I could trap my sleepiness under my blanket before it completely went away but it was no use, once I was awake and back to conscious, it was practically impossible for me to go back to bed again. I contemplated the merits of spending the whole day vegetating on the bed for a few moments before hauling my tush out of bed, getting ready for the long day ahead of me.

It was dream of home again. In less than 5 days, I will be home, back to my benevolent land, SKC.



Returning to the place one grew up in after a lengthy absence can be complicated.
It is a return with the metamorphosed-form of self, coupled with the soul that is acquainted with all the landmarks of your youth, your disappointment and accomplishments, fizzles and excitement, profound and mundane.

Sight of first love, the details of dozens of classrooms spanning primary, secondary schools; not only where the nearest LAMSHENG (南胜) convenience store is but what its hours are and what the quickest route to get to school.

It is far more common to find people afraid to go somewhere new they are unfamiliar with, but I have always believed the greatest fear should come of returning to a place you have forever memorised, only to find that the you that memorized it have changed irrevocably while the place itself remains exactly the same.

If returning alone is complicated for lack of a better word, then returning with that special someone is complicated because it is the best word.