I need to go back to a time or place where (when) afternoons were lazy and then at sundown I can actually hear cicadas. I remember I used to be so annoyed at the cicadas by our park that I walked faster when I was under a tree because the sound was so loud. These days I find myself longing (nay, pining!) for the sound and everything that came with it.
A slow almost drunken walk home from playing with my neighbors. I used to walk by this house all the time, they had lemon grass planted outside their gate and I used to ALWAYS pluck out a part of the blade and sniff it til the end of that particular block. How long has it been since I did that? I’m not sure why my mind is there tonight, it could be the fatigue or the anxiety of friends and a cousin in the hospital. My work or the quake or that we share the same global plate as Japan. *shrug*
Some nights I just want to go somewhere else then I stop and write and realize, here is not so bad, actually. So I say, okay I’ll stay put because I can always remember.
It’s just that sometimes the city gets to me.
photo: house in Bacolod March 2011