Failing to sleep.

Can’t sleep. I’m writing this instead of staring at the ceiling. There’s a mosquito in the room, I can hear it whining close to my ear. Very humid, air like filthy soup, plus we’re supposed to wear our face masks in bed too but I was running with sweat so I ripped mine off just now. Got up and looked at myself in the mirror on the landing — ribs like a fence, hair in greasy rats’ tails. Yesterday the rats in the kitchen were busy gnawing away at the breadbin, they didn’t even look up when I came in.

Darjeeling.

She smiled broadly because I'm going to make her a cup of tea, her favourite brand and she drinks it every morning before work.

Not exactly great Tuesday.

It was late afternoon when I disembarked and failed to see her. I woke up the other day, reading Shakespeare’s book, I found this particular quote articulates my thoughts today, “love from one side hurts, but love from two sides heals.” I just want you to know that I cannot share with another the love that is only for you.

O Juliet, Juliet! Wherefore art thou Juliet?

Winter in Paris.

My father taught me to write in the winter of 1994 when I was turning four in Paris. We usually sat on the carpet and leaned back on settee while dad coaching my calligraphy using fountain pen.

Our library had a fireplace situated in front of the settee. Every time if my dad found that my writing was illegible, he would crumple it up and put aside the papers. As the temperature dropped, I would toss it into grate and papers would be an alternative to the logs to keep us cosy in winter. With this in mind, you should realise that this was why I was good in throwing. I acquired the skills there that helped me in basketball.

I think the chimney in our old castle of Paris is still functional. Then, I would probably travel to Paris this winter rather than Korea to visit my brother.

Anticipating Monday.

At this time I should be taking a nap, though my shoulder is not well and a little pain now and then, I’m resolved to write this to share with you. I am not afraid to say that I like a girl, but I did not confide to anyone about her.

A sip of tea, munching chocolate brownies, I secretly stare at her and mingled with the crowds. Long silky hair, eye-catching smile, perfect complexion and flawless features, but I never have the courage to tell her so. Whenever I see her, I have the feeling that she is the one that I have been looking for.

So I have been lucky enough today. Unbeknown to her, she dropped her notepad while leaving in a hurry. Creating a chance for me to return it to her personally. Maybe it is a perfect chance to ask her out for a drink. Can’t wait for Monday to come for I cannot bear to part with her so long.

Tu es dans toutes mes pensées

A dream.

On Thursday afternoon soon after nap, I penned a fragment of a dream on my diary. I saw my brother’s fingers are turning black. I have a premonition that something will happen to my brother.

In dire need of a panacea.

Sorry for the infrequent writings lately. It’s not that I’m not writing but things have been pretty hectic as you all are well aware that my new album is releasing on Christmas which is timed to coincide with my birthday. I am, however, trying to update my thoughts and the sequel on this blog.

In the meantime, I’ve to take care of my brother. My sister and I are making every effort to help him to recover from his deteriorating sickness, prayer is much needed during time like this. Sometimes, my brother is shouting for a violin, but there was never a right one for him, I have absolutely no idea what kind of violin that he really wants. I am now wondering, what would happen if I give him a person named violin.

While I am sitting in my room reading books about how to deal with severe brain damage, I believe God will answer our prayers.