Rant #1 [D-Cube]

If I labelled every rant with a number, eventually after a reasonable amount of time I will know exactly how many times I’ve ranted.

So checked out Gerri’s blog just like Dot told me to, read Charm’s comment just like Dot told me to, basically did what Dot told me to. Death was the subject, death and time. Right now I don’t know much about the later, and I certainly can’t say I’ve experienced the former. If I did, you readers ought to be either spooked or fascinated by now. But I know from my habbit of being long winded and boring you’re feeling neither.

Lately I admit I’ve been thinking alot about my dad. Just a minute of completely filling my mind about him is enough to turn on the tap. Major waterworks. For example today when I was in the cab, the driver was talking about rising gas prices. And I was sorely reminded of my dad. The driver spoke fluent hokkien, and I immediately imagined my dad at my side in his white shirt and black trousers saying ‘Wa Ka Le Kong!’[I tell you!] to the driver. Taxi drivers have that type of chemistry, they know what it’s like to avoid bad customers, be happily or angrily stuck in traffic jams and for some, complain about their unfair hirer. They converse fluently in either a Dialect, most being Hokkien, english, malay or chinese. You don’t see many Indian drivers. I proudly announce that my dad is fluent in Hokkien, Malay and English! My mother’s more powerful, she’s fluent in Cantonese, English, Hokkien, Teochew and reasonably fluent in Malay and Chinese. And I? I am fluent in English, a monolingual… That’s a sad thing.. But I can also proudly say my English surpasses my parents! (As do most youths)

But I’m getting off point here. I remember my counsellor saying that I will always have relapses. She’s so scarily and unfairly right. 4 years, 6 months and 2 days later I still cry like crazy cause I still miss him. I formed a tight and emotional bond to my dad, one that will probably be tighter than the bond I have with my mother. Well that’s how I feel for now I guess.

 

 

They say you’ll get over it some day. You’ll never COMPLETELY get over it.

Death Starts As A Wound That Fades To A Scar, But It’ll Never Disappear.