I’m sitting on the plane as I write this. The morning so far has been completely mental. And I do mean completely mental. Woke up bright and early while it was still dark, after catching, what, one and a half hours of sleep? No, I wasn’t too excited or anything. I just wasn’t finished packing till I hit my bed.
Dad insisted on driving to the airport, convinced he was sure of the way there. Translated: He didn’t want my help. Gawd, he’s so stubborn. But then again, so am I. Anyway, I dozed off in the car.
Woke up to find he had missed an exit. Almost took to the wheel but we found another one that longer but got us there. Ga.
At the airport, Mom and I went in first with the luggage while he parked. Met A-yi and Popo. My aunt and grandma must have gotten up pretty early too just to see me off. I was touched, cos I had told just about everybody to not bother, it being a Monday and all.
Wern wanted to come, but it was his day of internship, so he just called. We chatted, but not much, cos I had hell to deal with: My luggage. It was so freakin’ over the weight limit, I had to repack four times. FOUR times! Ga.
Finally settled everything. Took pics, said my goodbyes. Everyone somewhat irritated at my lack of excitement. I’m just tired, I insist.
And then I left.
.
.
Copyright © 2001 Kenny Mah Ying Fye. Photograph by fcl1971, design by Kenny Mah.
Kenny Mah believes in the good in people. He has been blogging for over ten years. No, his hands aren't tired. Yet.
Sein chaotisches Ende
I’m trying to come home. Is this how it goes? These reminiscences turn around on me without gaping holes to tell. The sky is blighted, and exists no longer. (We find stars only on TV now, and much poorer are they.) There are no stories here, I must believe this.
Only I don’t. I’m trying to evade, an escape by wings spread across that river, always that river. I will persist at this. Eventually, something must come. Some sort of truth.