(no subject)

[riverofcurios]

other than trying to decipher my own feelings most times, i think i write to find the words for 6am mornings, tropical thunderstorms and london, the ones that struggle to emerge from the beauty of fog and still. at 6 this morning the skies fell so angry, demanding to be heard but begging me to go back to sleep. the thunderstorm and rain purported to be typical of this island was so strange and surreal -- that the everydays in humidity and sweat are washed away by the winds. last sunday i walked to the train station in the cool of the after-rain and thought of london, and its possibility. all i know from being 6 to 7 years of age were the dark 6am skies that were chilly and the rain threatening to tear the trees down and london, the 'other' city to singapore. and at six i didn't know of anything else -- the cold rainy mornings and london were all i knew. and when i try to find the words for all of these things, i am trying to move to a reality i used to think was true. my reality now is painful and dull and i miss my sadness, and who i used to be. the rain was beating against the window next to where i sat on the bus and there was a tug at the heartstrings to feel the way i used to, some dull echo of ghost feelings and thoughts and a year, two years, three... they distance me from who i want to return to, which is all very shocking for me.
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