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two decades of lies

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  • The laughter.
  • The never-ending question-circle when deciding where and what to eat. ('Where do you want to eat?' 'I don't know, where do you want to eat?' 'I don't know. Where do you want to eat?' 'Rica????')
  • The connotations, the limitless connotations made years after years after years
    • Testesterone
    • Bushroom
  • The domesticity (On the dinner table, I'd hand the salt to Marz and she'd hand the ketchup to Fae and Fae would pour us drinks while Rica would get some rice.)
  • The unprecedented show of affection
  • The lack of propriety. ('I want to fart' 'no one's stopping you' | 'My arse is eating my pants' 'Pull it out, I'll stand behind you'. )
  • Knowing what sort of coffee I prefer with...
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nov 22 2010 ∞
nov 22 2010 +

Or the one in which I gave in to the pull of textbook narcissism.

  • When I was a child (the exact age escapes me) but it was so long ago digital cameras weren't even mainstream yet, possibly not even invented yet, we went to the beach with my mum's extended family. I drowned, just a little bit. I went under, near the shore, but the tips of my toes didn't touch the sands and little waves kept pulling me left and right. For a second, I was afraid. Then I saw legs and clung to it like a lifeline and heaved myself up. Mum looked down and smiled. This is one of the many times mother saved my life without being aware of it.
  • My first memory of dad, aside from he's always at work , is that one time during kindergarten. The bell just rang, indicating the end of classes and through routine, I ran towards where my mother waits for me and turned around to hand her my backpack. Except I...
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nov 22 2010 ∞
nov 23 2010 +
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