I blame my recent softness and tears on my monthly cycle. normally, I don’t behave this way. still, there are small moments of contentment that break through: watching the sun set over the Sai Gon River when driving home, or today, sitting in a coffee shop with a book, realizing life isn’t so heavy after all. the pasta there was surprising good - and even more surprising, it was made by Thu, whom I happened to bump into. it’s funny how, in the strangest places, you can still stumble upon a familiar face. and it’s raining outside, while inside I was absorbed by my book and the sound of cello music on Spotify. what more could I possibly ask for? could be a bottle of wine?
if there were a soundtrack to this chapter of my life, it would be Taiwanese indie music, the one that feels slow, hazy, and tender - like stepping into a Hou Hsiao-Hsien film.
as the coffee shop began to fill with people, I chose to slip away, carrying two bottles of Heart of Darkness with me. the rain hadn’t stopped - it followed me home.