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Prince Randian was born completely limbless, but his entire torso is intact. He was able to shave, roll and light cigarettes, among other things. He had a wife and was a father! He had to roll or rock around on his belly to move around, but mostly had his assistant/son carry him from place to place. Amazing man.
I reached another turning point, a milestone, today. I bought alcohol for the first time and the counter person just let me! No asking for ICs, whatsoever. Well, I have to admit I only bought a small bottle of Moscato, because I couldn't afford any big bottles, but still! It's a pretty good one, though I liked the red one better. The white one reminds me of a wall corner, don't ask me why. It's the only way I can describe it.
My family opened a bottle of red Moscato last week and I found it surprisingly pleasant. I usually can't drink very much, but Moscato has half the percentage of alcohol a normal type of wine has, so it's all good. Finally, a wine I can drink!
My dear Rabbit's first death anniversary is swiftly approaching. It's the 11th of January, he suffered in frustration for a week before death finally took him.
I remember when Rabbit died, I was still at Esplanade library. When I came home, we buried him at the field under a lovely tree, and went home again. I walked into my room, locked the door, and put Mozart's Symphony no. 25 in the CD player, turned up the volume, flopped onto my bed and closed my eyes.
Strangely, I didn't cry. I had done my crying in the MRT on my way home, remembering how I kissed his soft, furry cheek before I left the house that morning. I still remember it now, the softest fur was just below his ears and in between them, how he always felt so warm when I cuddled him every night before I put him back into his cage, how his mouth would turn orange after chomping on some carrot, how he would be so picky with his food and leave out all the disgusting-tasting compressed hay-sticks.
My lovely, lovely Rabbit.
I reached another turning point, a milestone, today. I bought alcohol for the first time and the counter person just let me! No asking for ICs, whatsoever. Well, I have to admit I only bought a small bottle of Moscato, because I couldn't afford any big bottles, but still! It's a pretty good one, though I liked the red one better. The white one reminds me of a wall corner, don't ask me why. It's the only way I can describe it.
My family opened a bottle of red Moscato last week and I found it surprisingly pleasant. I usually can't drink very much, but Moscato has half the percentage of alcohol a normal type of wine has, so it's all good. Finally, a wine I can drink!
My dear Rabbit's first death anniversary is swiftly approaching. It's the 11th of January, he suffered in frustration for a week before death finally took him.
I remember when Rabbit died, I was still at Esplanade library. When I came home, we buried him at the field under a lovely tree, and went home again. I walked into my room, locked the door, and put Mozart's Symphony no. 25 in the CD player, turned up the volume, flopped onto my bed and closed my eyes.
Strangely, I didn't cry. I had done my crying in the MRT on my way home, remembering how I kissed his soft, furry cheek before I left the house that morning. I still remember it now, the softest fur was just below his ears and in between them, how he always felt so warm when I cuddled him every night before I put him back into his cage, how his mouth would turn orange after chomping on some carrot, how he would be so picky with his food and leave out all the disgusting-tasting compressed hay-sticks.
My lovely, lovely Rabbit.
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