There are dreams that come with melodies. Sometimes the notes have already been laid down in words too. The only problem is that the moment you swing yourself out of that realm, to find something mundane but physical enough to take a grab of, to put them down in the reality, they are all gone. Is it this place here not an fertile land for them to thrive, or is it the person hasn’t tried hard enough?
Tomorrow will be another anniversary of my grandpa’s death. It’s been 13 years and he didn’t visit me in my sleep like he used to. When he did, he never really say anything. And it’s my strong belief that whatever I do, he will be the first and foremost to come for support, in one way or another. Maybe a dream, or maybe just a small sign somewhere. It’s my strong belief.
There are always signs that are accidental. The other day I dropped the claypot that Alan made for me last year while cleaning the room. If it hadn’t been for that, I wouldn’t have been reminded that at the bottom of that claypot, there was a small line saying “I love you”, and also how I failed him and others. Last night, I couldn’t sleep and just laid there from 1.30 till the sun came up. Work was a dread and even more so when the green bracelet I got from a small temple in Angkor over 2 years ago broke and fell off. And how I got so hammered with motion sickness that I recalled how Florian encouraged me all the way home when we were walking in Singapore in dizzyness.
I’ve always thought that Lana & Barrie were a perfect match. Their darkness compliments no other kinds but their own. And she looked her best and sang her best when he was in her world.