Playing games with the faces
this songs reminds me of last summer, the train rides and this place, a creaky musky room that the giraffe and i stayed in when we accidentally landed in the wrong town. the best thing about the room was the sink, just like in mr. bean's room. there was no air con and it was still and sweet-smelling. the corridors were quiet and orange, with a corn painted at every door, and we locked ourselves in the toilet to bathe in the two cubicles with the cool night air outside in a strange quiet town. Has anyone tried Mrs. Wagner pies and what are they like? If this were a song about Singapore, they'd say we boarded the sbs bus in jurong, orchard seems like a dream to me now, and it took me 45 minutes to hitchhike from tampines.
Work is piling up, decisions to be made, I feel like burrowing in a hole like a wombat (do they actually do that?), or a mole, and hibernating warmly in the soil for the winter and waking up for ginger cookies in spring. The internship promises a pay which I will give a part to my grandmother, a part to my parents and a part to getting an armchair and table for my record player for my room. THAT! IS EXCITEMENT.
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