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BTS Asok station

i found myself looking into someone else’s apartment.
It looked warm and cozy. There was a low shelf of books standing haphazardly about. It was all yellows and browns, with flashes of blue from the TV. The sliding glass doors were open, letting the breeze lift the white curtains tentatively. i could imagine just lying by the windows, whiling the friday night out.

looking into someone else's aparment, i found myself looking inwards into the memory of my own little lungga in salcedo.

looking inwards into the memory of my own place, i found myself wanting so much to go back. i missed my book shelf, i missed my rusty yellow fridge, i missed my bike gear gathering dust in the corner, i missed my anorexic sofa-bed, i missed the sun hitting the curtains on slow saturday mornings, i missed the park, i missed by blind ceramic piggy bank, my lunchboxes, the feel of my feet on the floor, the chimes. i missed you. i missed all of you.