Rodin did a great job on this, don't you think?
We decided to re-name our dog "Mutton". The day after he arrived at our house, I remember taking him out for a walk. After that, we were about to go home. Rabbit's empty cage was still sitting outside, near the gate. Mutton looked at the cage, growled, and started barking at it.
It was empty.
There are two explanations for it, of which I can fathom. Mutton was either barking at the scent left behind, or he saw something. Someone. Either way, it just made me feel a lil sad. The cage disappeared the next day, I didn't ask about it. In my quiet moments, I used to squat in front of the cage and look at it, open the cage door, and just remember Rabbit.
It's been a deplorably stressful week. Monday and Tuesday were filled to the brim with school and studies and choir practices, and then I had a quiz every day from Wed-Fri. I barely had enough time to study for them, I had to keep myself awake during lectures, squeeze in some study time during lunch breaks. Every night now I just drop dead in bed. I concluded that the breakout on my face is due to stress, which my friends labelled "cute". Hmmm.
Mom and Dad are getting fed up with Mutton, Mom insists that Dad has no time, though Dad hasn't said anything. In the car this morning, she just couldn't stop talking. I'll never know what's her problem. When she starts, she just can't stop, and her tone is somewhat mocking, the "I told you so" kind of tone. When I couldn't take it anymore, I told her sharply, "that's enough".
Mom is talking about sending the dog back to it's original owner. Nobody ever said it was going to be easy, taking care of a dog. She's treating Mutton like some toy. I guess I should have seen it coming, Mom and Dad aren't the kind of people to keep promises. I should never pin any hopes on them lest I be disappointed time and again. I've learnt it long ago.
I was just talking to D over the phone last night, and we came upon the topic of travel. Do you remember I started a savings box for my trip to Venice? I still ache for Venice, but now I'm starting to think of these savings in a different way. This money I've saved won't just be for a short holiday, but to start me off if I ever feel the need to escape, to get far away from this place and these people.
I used to want to emigrate to Hawaii. It started from watching Cirque du Soleil's "Alegria", when I was fascinated with fire-dancing. A close tribal experience with the Maori people in New Zealand left me fascinated, just fascinated. I wished I could be part of it. Then, there was "Lilo and Stitch". I even did batik paintings of surfboards! I wanted, so much, to go to Hawaii. In 2005, I got my wish. My choir went there to participate in a competition, and I loved, loved it, loved it. The main island is a bit too developed for my tastes, but it's still beautiful.
I've noticed I love places with lots of water. It's calming, the song of the waves like a lullaby. They cradle me, make me feel safe despite the cold darkness. I've developed a liking for the big fountain at school. It's wide enough to help me imagine an endless stretch of water, despite the sprays of water that travel in the wind. At night, it reflects the lights of the buildings, just like it did at Venice. Sometimes I like to sit at the fountain and sing to the breeze.
We decided to re-name our dog "Mutton". The day after he arrived at our house, I remember taking him out for a walk. After that, we were about to go home. Rabbit's empty cage was still sitting outside, near the gate. Mutton looked at the cage, growled, and started barking at it.
It was empty.
There are two explanations for it, of which I can fathom. Mutton was either barking at the scent left behind, or he saw something. Someone. Either way, it just made me feel a lil sad. The cage disappeared the next day, I didn't ask about it. In my quiet moments, I used to squat in front of the cage and look at it, open the cage door, and just remember Rabbit.
It's been a deplorably stressful week. Monday and Tuesday were filled to the brim with school and studies and choir practices, and then I had a quiz every day from Wed-Fri. I barely had enough time to study for them, I had to keep myself awake during lectures, squeeze in some study time during lunch breaks. Every night now I just drop dead in bed. I concluded that the breakout on my face is due to stress, which my friends labelled "cute". Hmmm.
Mom and Dad are getting fed up with Mutton, Mom insists that Dad has no time, though Dad hasn't said anything. In the car this morning, she just couldn't stop talking. I'll never know what's her problem. When she starts, she just can't stop, and her tone is somewhat mocking, the "I told you so" kind of tone. When I couldn't take it anymore, I told her sharply, "that's enough".
Mom is talking about sending the dog back to it's original owner. Nobody ever said it was going to be easy, taking care of a dog. She's treating Mutton like some toy. I guess I should have seen it coming, Mom and Dad aren't the kind of people to keep promises. I should never pin any hopes on them lest I be disappointed time and again. I've learnt it long ago.
I was just talking to D over the phone last night, and we came upon the topic of travel. Do you remember I started a savings box for my trip to Venice? I still ache for Venice, but now I'm starting to think of these savings in a different way. This money I've saved won't just be for a short holiday, but to start me off if I ever feel the need to escape, to get far away from this place and these people.
I used to want to emigrate to Hawaii. It started from watching Cirque du Soleil's "Alegria", when I was fascinated with fire-dancing. A close tribal experience with the Maori people in New Zealand left me fascinated, just fascinated. I wished I could be part of it. Then, there was "Lilo and Stitch". I even did batik paintings of surfboards! I wanted, so much, to go to Hawaii. In 2005, I got my wish. My choir went there to participate in a competition, and I loved, loved it, loved it. The main island is a bit too developed for my tastes, but it's still beautiful.
I've noticed I love places with lots of water. It's calming, the song of the waves like a lullaby. They cradle me, make me feel safe despite the cold darkness. I've developed a liking for the big fountain at school. It's wide enough to help me imagine an endless stretch of water, despite the sprays of water that travel in the wind. At night, it reflects the lights of the buildings, just like it did at Venice. Sometimes I like to sit at the fountain and sing to the breeze.
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