In my iPod: Until the End- Breaking Benjamin
State of mind: heading for a breakdown
Just like the years before, it was the same gloomy sky. It drizzled when we started our drive and later it only got worse and started raining heavily when we almost reach our destination. We bought the same type of flowers from the same florist because it was the same old me who was given the task of purchasing flowers but instead my same fucking god given talent of procrastination everything that I am suppose to do yet prioritize things that I am not suppose to, had the best of me. We climbed the same hill to the spot same spot where I was at last year, the place where the remains of my ancestors are laid to rest. Well, I think a lot of you would agree with me when I say; there wouldn't be any complaint if the location stays the same. I'll be damned if the grave moved itself. On our way back, we stopped at the same Hai Peng Coffee shop to have the same cup of coffee that I can never understand why so many same old patron come back over and over again for. To me it is just another bitter cup of fucking over priced coffee and nothing more.
Every fucking thing we did this year just seems so to be so mechanically identical to the slightest detail to what we usually do on every 清明. Same time, same destination, same sky, same road with same pot hole, same faces, same graves with same names and the same taste of coffee inside the same looking cup and saucer every fucking year.
But just before we are about to leave the coffee shop and head back , I couldn't help but to notice that now our table is one cup of coffee lesser than last year. And it was in that very coffee shop, in front all the many unknown strangers, my tears streamed down. Yet I am not ashamed to wear these warm and salty droplets of infinite sadness on my face because I knew who it was for. I was wrong. No, everything about today is just not the same and nothing about it in the coming years will ever to be the same anymore.
0403 and I just can’t sleep. The wheels in my brain are turning, twisting and rotating, but it is leading me to nowhere. It may seem that I have moved on; but deep down inside, this motherless child is refusing to let go, what has already gone.