lost. Drown. afoot. stories.

i lost my mp3 player on my way back home from KL. was a tad disappointed in myself for not being careful with it, but then thought, what's meant to be, will be. i will be able to read more now, i thought. which happens to be true: two books in a week.


Drown by Junot Diaz

something about reading really stunning short stories. it chokes. it must be what being hanged feels like. to be painfully grabbed away from breathing. the throat's passageway deemed useless - folded and twisted into a cut that engorges the body, whole. his stories are like that. the first one is a heart-stopper. it kills you into an awaking.

his stories also makes one feel like a trespasser, strolling stupidly into a world you know nothing about, and yet are trying to stake a claim upon. what a fool. and in the end, the stories do just that. it fools us and we cannot do anything else, but accept it.

at the same time, i find myself silently searching for parts of the characters in me. sadistic, almost. but such a beautiful yearning.

a must read.




afoot. work. it brings out the true value of a 'friday', the TGIF. i spent mine walking. my temporary workplace overlooks a gorgeous sky and often i wonder what lay beneath it. so this morning i planned a route. it was two train stops away, a route i had never walked before. Tiong Bahru to Tanjong Pagar. it would take 5 mins by train but about 1 hour 15 mins on foot. worth it though.

stories. the characters have been born. time to breathe air into their limbs. o heart. stop feeling. let the mind do her work. shoosh.