If my smile helps

-with ji sung at old trafford-

it was a strange night with heavy snowstorm. it feels like i was finding my own way out in the national library, criss-crossing among shelves of philosophy, mathematics, history, art and modern art. saw an empty reception at third floor, an empty staff room with echo, a very very far exit sign. and then i woke up in the middle of the night after 2 seconds of jerking.

growing up in a very well family seems to make life easier. you can keep track with the most up-to-date answers, the formulas of becoming a good person, having a good job, leading the good lifestyle and trying to impress yourself. imagine staying in a very well defined container all the time, with intermittent heat pushing you to move upwards at appropriate intervals. that's where the word rebel came from. a slight mistake will turn the world upside down.

i declare my own day off today and sleep. and wake up after 12 to eat cereal. and apple. and scoop chocolate from the jar. and put the laundry into the wardrobe. and call home to get compliments. and stare at myself. and pray for the time to pass slower today but nobody answer my prayer. and go for dance practice.

yesterday was at a nursing home in bray. so much wonders. working as a carer is definitely different as a doctor and i'm glad i am going to be the latter one. but the tint of experience gave me a macro scope of how is it like to deal with really sick old people. if those 'lonely' old people along the street gave me a pinch in the heart, then these old people told me how real is reality. how real is aging and poverty.