Home, sweet old tired home.
Family and friends' faces reflecting how old I grew.
Dusty carton boxes filled with photos, books and rusty memories.
Ground zero of my cradle.
The joy and suffering of searching for a new house.
A forcing fake sigh whenever I say: Yes, I was homesick.
Taste is a sort of fate I can never run away from.
Oceans of gaps.
Easily discarding what I always thought undiscardable.
Hypnotized and thinking unhypnotizable.
Everybody is asking why I lost weight although the scales don't show an ounce of weight loss.
The passing away of my favourit and terribly underestimated poet.
Surprising inability to forgive.
First time to witness the entire cycle of Karma.
So this has been a time in your life that gives you a new (or renewed) taste of self.
ReplyDeleteThat is a gift.