jlt#3

I love the feeling of standing in other people’s shoes. Literally.

I love the clatter of the scrabble letters...especially when somebody brings the game to an unmade bed.

I love sniffing unlit gold flake cigarettes. Even from outside the box.

I love musty smelling armwars...and knowing which leg of it is broken.

I love playing with the tassel of cut glass perfume cases.

I love familiarity.

I love mashi’s overcrowded kitchen top.

I love it when mum mumbles a bit in her sleep...and falls deeply asleep again once
I've covered her with a blanket. I can leave ps and gtalk combined to do that….smiley sigh...

I love the fact that I can stomp to dada’s room whenever I’m feeling frustrated and just sit and sulk and be grumpy in companionable silence. Nowadays with the cat watching…condescendingly.



N I miss dad. And the elaborate chow that the two of us used to cook every Sunday morning.
I’m sorry I never wanted to be your partner when we played 29. But you did suck at it!!
I love you and I miss you.
And the worst part is that I know you love me. And that you miss me. Possibly more than I do.