But blank is good I guess.
The boy looks beyond the gate. He sees his father, still in his work attire, carrying the items the boy desperately needed. Arcoss the island and back, the journey would definitely tire the middle-aged father. But still the father came.
Among the bags his father handed him, one of them clearly were not part of the packing list. A familiar bag from the fast-food outlet. The boy could only down the apple pie and orange juice. And then he stared at the Big Mac, and he stared. He could not bring himself to dispose of it. For it was incomprehensible to him how his tired father, without his request, could bother to get the food for him.
The night was cold, but the boy's heart was warmed. And if he was not in an institution of man, he would have let a tear flow free from his eye.
The boy knew this all along. But perhaps it is more apparent now as he will soon depart on his own journey. He often wonders how he could repay all this. Probably, the answer is never.
A dedication to the parents of the boy. For all they did for him. Not just in the preparations for his trip, but for everything all his life.
There is no one like you, no one like a parent.
The boy loves you.
It turned out to be a very special journey. One that relaxed me, one that comforted me, one that readied me, one that reminded me. It was if it was all meant to be. That I would get on this bus, and see all the sights I saw. The sights of Singapore, for one good time.
The human mind is a very special thing. It stores snapshots of your life so well, and rewinds it when you get some form of visual ignition. And there I was seeing places I had been before, recalling the times I had there, the people I was with, the emotions, everything so vividly replayed. A journey to an unknown place, yet a journey so familiar.
Why should I be afraid to go? I have had such a great and vibrant time in Singapore, and I will be returning to this life soon. All I need to do is to clear this obstacle. And I will probably return stronger, as an even better person.
Why should I be afraid? I know I can trust what I see. I know I can trust what I feel.
I should be unafraid.
Its kind of similar to me in me actual fact. How I probably give people a different feeling in different places. A different me in civilian life, a different me as a soldier and probably a very unexpected me in Australia. Typical gemini.
I can never forget the icy bite of the bitter cold wind the other night. How it mocked me after a long and lousy day. Nor the sudden need to choke down tears of desperation as I found out how falsehoped I had been today.
All this in Singapore. With so much to look forward to, with so much support to fall back on.
I seriously dont know how its going to turn out. But things will get better.
It already has.
But winter is not all just fun and games after all. For the cold weather makes Mr Sun a very lazy man. And he works for less hours, allowing Lady Moon to have a longer dance in the velvet skies. But her dance is far from appreciated from earth, obscured by the powdery white falling to the ground. For the nights in winter are not the most cheerful times. Its lonesome, its gloomy, its deep and dark. Its winter.
The days go on, and the nights go on even longer. The boy gets tired, maybe confused. When winter comes to an end, he has a slight longing then he decides its better that winter goes. How ironical, how he wanted something so much yet he could just let it go like that. How maybe he even felt a sense of relief, or ease. It just doesnt seem that right.
Spring, summer, autumn, winter. It goes in a cycle. Its not his first winter. And the boy knows the start and the end. How silly he was, to welcome winter once again this year.
But after each winter comes spring. Its a good thing theres spring, and the boy is thankful for it. For its spring.
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