I wrote yesterday.
It got eaten up by the random pc i was using in the lab.
*sobs*
It gets harder and harder to pen brain to keyboard, so i'll just meander gently and aimlessly, letting thoughts lead me where they will.
While the parents were abroad, my maternal grandmother aka por por, gave a call to ask someone to pick up some ba zhang (rice dumplings wrapped with pandan leaves). The call annoyed me, because i knew it wld have to be me to run down. P.p stays in pipit road, which is just off McPherson road.. A sleepy corner overlooking the aljunied bit of the P.I.E, and coincidentally where i did quite a bit of my growing up. I don't know why, but the morning air, with only the geriatric to be seen doing tai chi, or old men playing chess in the morning sun seemed to lighten my step as i walked briskly towards the block.
As i sat at the old table laden with egg yolks, shrimp, ginko nuts and siew yoke (roasted pork), again i felt bad that i never visit. How to put this into words? I cant begin to describe the immense satisfaction i felt as i tried to make a couple ugly mishapen lumps of rice. It wasn't just that i felt tradition taking a hold of me, as i looked upon the old coal burner and pots she was using. It wasn't just that i felt truly aware of my ties for the first time, as she spoke in cantonese and showed me how to fold the leaves into an ideal nook. I think it was just..sweet contentment.
What kind of routine do we put ourselves through when contentment is such a rare commodity in our lives?
I told j about the unsurety i harbour. Children, my stance on present matters, the whole thingamajig. Later i dreamt that he took me to Tiffany's where he chose a ring. I gazed at it; the vivid and darkly green jade carved piece in the center, and the loop around my finger a delicate gold wrought circle which looked pretty enough to wear on own. (I know, i know, they wld never stock such a thing) It looked like a glorious vintage piece, something lasting and precious. I looked and looked, admired and twisted my hands around to see it in all the angles of the light.. After a while, i took it off, held it in my hands for the last time, and gave it back to j, saying that even though there was no doubt it was a treasure, it was just not me
The spooks in my unit are getting more and more restless, with a particular one being rather spirited. She/it continued tapping a colleague on the shoulder after the boys had stopped playing. One evening i felt a wierd tingling sensation on my back and not long after, chris saw the shadow of a woman lunge towards him before it disappeared. And now i must go give kisses of thanks to whoever it was who told me not to turn around when you hear or feel..stuff.
