by The Dreamer

some things i really wish i could do right now/ some things i miss dearly:

i. karaoke sessions

ii. sitting on a bench that faces the carpark with rachael, caris and jane; eating frozen yogurt and counting the number of red cars and black cars that pass by while talking about nonsensical things

iii. waking up in a foreign land, feeling the heaviness of hotel blankets and the coldness of their toilet bowls; queuing up for morning omelettes and orange juice; tucking my head in my scarf as i’m greeted by the sharp frozen air; the excitement of beginning a new day and exploring new places and meeting new people; falling completely in love with the country and secretly tearing up when i’m dropped off in the airport; smiling extra hard at customs officers, especially when they don’t smile back; touching the side of the plane for good luck; red-eye flights and the sleepy drone of the engine; dozing off to Dead Poet’s Society and stirring awake before the sky does; chasing the sun across the horizon; airplane food; the sticky humidity of my hometown; talkative taxi drivers; opening windows to let out stale two-week air; my bed.

iv. writing everyday with the curtains drawn; the fan whirring lazily in a feeble attempt to dispel the summer heat; writing until my butt is cramped up; sluggish afternoon naps; uploading stories and refreshing my email for comments and fan mail; overcoming the fear of an empty fresh page; re-reading old works and cringing but still smiling, amazed by myself.

v. conjoining beds, laying side by side with shoulders touching, arms folded on my tummy; one leg entangled with my blanket, the other pressed against the cold surface of the wall reminding me that i’m safe from monsters under the bed; night-time conversations and weaved stories; laughing softly; lapses of silences; the door creaking open with a sliver of light, silencing us as we abruptly shut our eyes; “go to sleep, girls.”; suppressed giggles; kisses pressed to our foreheads; waking up cuddled together; husky ‘good mornings’.

vi. baths together; not being conscious of our bodies; gulping down shower water; shampooing each other’s hair; washing behind our ears; squeezing into the baby bathtub with water gushing out with every movement; playing with rubber duckies and measuring cups; banging on the door; “it’s been an hour. hurry up”.

vii. feeling pretty

viii. following behind my elder guy cousin with starry eyes; memorising his favourite jj lin songs; clapping too hard as he randomly smashes the piano to accompany his singing; smiling shyly to myself when he settles into the backseat of the bicycle with me, his body pressed against mine; crying when he flies off; his bruises and blood; him comforting me and telling me it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay; red-bean ice cream in void decks as we wait for his blood to dry up; avoiding grandma as we clean up his wounds secretly; his blood swirling down the drain; being even more starry-eyed; thinking he was the most handsome guy ever; placing bandaids on him carefully with my tongue sticking out in concentration; getting caught by grandma and stealing sheepish smiles at each other.

钧 x x

j e a n x x