June 06, 2025

On some humid summer days, I need to just blink lightly to fly back to my childhood.  Feel myself sink into those grass I use to run on. Like I am still that child dipping in a pond birthed by the summer rain. The scent are so vivid I could just touch the fabric of memory. It's only a milli second away, but it bursts into gray hairs and unsung whimpers. My maturity is a printed house, I am forced to build. It was only yesterday, I was singing in the school. It was only morning when I was laughing in the rain.