nocturnal (genius or delirium)

as a girl i always wanted to join the neat row of legs in pink tights, twirling like swans with heads held high and necks stretched surely, surely to the skies. papa held my hand and pulled me away, saying that i would surely never persist.

maybe, he was too heartbroken to say he could not afford it.

when i see people going for holidays overseas on a regular basis, and complain over not having the most fashionable things, and go on overseas exchange trips, i am saddened and jealous and envious

when i see my father driving his taxi with spectacles on now, and the same shirt (carefully hung after each wash) and pants rolled neatly to reach his ankles, and the same old socks that droop despite me telling him to buy new ones

yes, i am chastened.

there are many things i would lke to do, places and people and subjects i would love to experience, and in all, all in all in all, there is really nothing greater than my wish to bring my father for a holiday to see the scenery he so much likes and truly, from the bottom of my heart i swear, he deserves.

i have many loves, and i will cry for them make gifts for them laugh with them comfort them hug them accompany them talk to them and listen to them
my father, i will die for him, gladly