SIAN - Y (CNY)

Its one hour and thirteen minutes into the new year.

tommorrow we would all be scurrying to each others houses, giving and receiving oranges, giving and receiving ang baos, giving and receiving smiles, giving in the hope of receiving.

my emotion reiterates red.

red like the colour of your clothes, red like your shou sui eyes (giving hours in the hope of getting more from your children next time), red like your pineapple tart heaty lips, red like the colour of your cheeks - flushed from the effort of a half hearted guffaw.

Perhaps it is too late to go back to the time when a reunion dinner doesn't give one a stomach ache.

I am angry.
angry at myself for not getting into the atmosphere of things.
Where did all that childish delight go?
the crowded streets, the festive iridescence, the smell of celebratory red, all to vaporise with the slightest waning of your concern.

RUBBISH. i can't think of a witty one-liner to end this, i feel almost mentally impaired.

(i tried)

Happy chinese new year.