Why do you divert your eyes?
You and I have naught to hide.
Honest truth, we’ve never met.
We are strangers as of yet.
And all I did was smile at you,
(couldn’t help my passing through),
and yet you looked away from me,
as though I were an enemy.
And so I went along my way,
but on my way I had to say,
the world would be a better place,
if you’d return my smiley face!
I cried yesterday. I never cry.
Because of the weird way in which my local paper works (it’s a tiny paper), content I write often appears online before it appears in the printed edition. This can be both good and bad. It is good when I am eager to see what the editor has done with my work—usually he changes very little, of which I am proud. It is bad, however, when I have made a mistake and someone catches it, but, alas, it is too late to make changes before the article goes to print.
That is what happened this weekend. Continue reading
My running route in Hong Kong.
There are roads—
paths I know by heart.
Up and down and up and down,
End to start.
There are paths—
friends I pound apart.
Fast and slow and fast and slow,
with no restart.
There are friends—
routes of little art.
Loud and soft and loud and soft,
They know my heart.
- what orion said (jesscy.com)