lights out.

a small solemn touch.

the wood was cool, glossy. plastic-ky.
it felt like the glossy egg-sized flat glasses that kept the faces of the dead in good shape at the crematorium.

at first glance, the body inside the coffin gave a shot to the palms.
it looked like it was made of wax, and there was a pearl that was oddly placed between the lips.

i had never been to a wake before.

it had opened another door in my mind, and many challenges and questions popped into my head. as i was there at the coffin. at the altar. at the table. at the burning.

the burning. it was, quite simply put, fun, to watch.
but was it sinful? since we christians do not believe in such rituals.
i saw a fellow christian take a joss stick and kow-tow.
was it right, even if the intentions were just to pay respect?

how would we know where the line is?
when's not enough, when's too much.

i leave the red thread at the foot of the tree and get into the car.

the girl's art was good.

research looked coherent.
practice seemed enough.
and final composition was awesome.
bright colours, bombastic idea and brilliant perfection.

and now to think about it, the monks' chanting rhythm was quite catchy that i put it to my feet and hands.

back at home.

mum said lights out about an hour ago?
i'm typing, my bros are sleeping.

and i think i'm losing friends.
to someone who knew them through me.

maybe it's because i'm too boring for them?
too quiet?
not fun to talk to?

or maybe it's cos i wasn't with them for 2 weeks and more.

*sigh*.

what's there much to ponder about?
if they click with you and like you, they do.
if they don't, they don't.

then i guess those two don't.

haha. that's ok.

but is it really? or is that just for comfort?

it's dark outside, but my table lamp's on.
and it seems the only bed left is the one in the hottest part of the room.

time for lights out.