Wow, it is one of those dreams.

You know, I don't remember most dreams. Not significant enough, I guess.

But I remembered this one, the vivid details. You were handsome, and I hoped I was beautiful enough for you, and you wrote me this letter, in Chinese, detailing how I was the best thing that happened in your life.

When I woke up from this, I had a silly smile, knowing it's impossible. As I recalled, you don't write in Chinese. And I don't think I could finish the whole letter with my poor command of the language.

Well it's meant to be a dream, because the last I spoke to you, you were still with her. Oh well.

I'm feeling a little sad

It's my last night in Bangkok. For the past 9 days, I was over at my cousin's house in Thailand, surrounded by the people whom I got used to seeing just once or twice a year. (Chinese New Year, lah)

And though I didn't do the usual things people do when they're over at Bangkok, I was happy. Catching up with my cousin, getting more acquainted with his wife, playing with my nieces. I had to work on my freelance project on some days, but I wasn't stressed out. It's a holiday, man.

It's the same feeling, like after a 3-day Girl Guides Camp, or after a week long stayover at auntie's place. Or working on a show for around 2 weeks with my fellow drama mates. This familiar feeling.

This familiar sadness, knowing that all this is just temporary.

Weep.

In the midst of witnessing debauchery and pole-dancers, I thought of you.

And suddenly a chain of 8 numbers ran in my head. Ah, your phone number. The ones I had erased from my phone, to forget you, to erase all those silly hopes of you contacting me that one fine day.

Funny how our mind works.