This thought came to me only recently, that perhaps i am on the road to perfecting my laughter. A laughter is maybe a signature. Some people have a distinct cackle, some a santa ho-ho, one chiming melody. I used to think my laughter special, distinct to me. It was a soundless one. Whenever it tickled me, I’d bend over and shake in silence. Then, i’d thought it was cool and just me. There was that moment in time, when I thought i had my perfect laughter.
So i am one who had just returned from lands and seas so far away. I’ve got the people asking how i had change. Well, that question haunts me too. Time to time, I take a step out and look at myself and wonder how I am not the same. Today, I realised my laughter is not the same. I had composed a melody to that involuntary motion spurred out of jolly moments. I have perhaps found my laughter. And like the me that many years ago, I too think I have my perfect laughter.
When will I next tread upon these cobblestoned paths, roam under the same bonnie blue sky?
Thanks for having me, et à bientôt France!
This purple belongs to the nature and nature only. Ah wait, they don’t say purple here. It’s golden blue.
The view tilted to an angle, standing on the higher points of a road that has seen better days. The sky is a shade of baby blue with clouds that seem yellow with the rays of sun behind. The road walks to marbled buildings the colour of clouds - washed in yellow. Their shapes and textures tell the history of this town. History is their past but the little beings weaving in and out of its many channels exude the spirit of youth.
Girls in the young blossoms of ladyhood walk in pairs, their curly flowing hair moving rhythmically to the notes of the blowing wind. Somehow, she knows a pair of eyes is on her. Almost unintentionally, she puts one hand through her mane, letting the wind kiss the hair so thoroughly she makes quite a sight.
Coming towards them, boys walk down the street. They make a better sight in threes. No one before the other, their practiced walking in synchrony. Heads slightly bowed, carrying nothing but a young playful heart and a slight nonchalance for the world.
Teetering on fours, the young pup is finally out for a walk. The end of her shackles leads to a lady walking forth with purpose enough for a lifetime. Today, the puppy decides she wants to call the shots. She stopped and her human is pulled back. Today, dog walks the human.
I like my oranges peeled and not just cut up in wedges like you see in the Sunkist ads. I guess peeling them is therapeutic in a way, sort of. One of my CNY highlights is definitely mandarin oranges and how i seem never to get sick of peeling one after another. Not to mention I get a little shadow of OCD looming ard me while i do just that. I peel really clean hahaha; not even that fine white bits can stay on the orange that goes into my mouth and right down my tummy.
I guess it is therapeutic only because I have the time to do it. Which is why I almost never eat oranges in Singapore cept for CNY. I’ll peel my oranges while I still can.
Will miss you guys, my sunny little balls of fun and boredom