So I’d been searching for this dress for quite a while now, and then one day I searched behind my clothing drawers and there it was. Looks like my clothes got too much for the drawers to handle and it got pushed back whenever I opened my drawers. OTL
âœ¿ green patterned dress: gift (Hong Kong)
âœ¿ yellow cardigan: bugis village
âœ¿ grey knee-high socks: cotton on
âœ¿ dark grey sneakers: cotton on
âœ¿ silver die necklace: Japan
A picture where I’m in sublime spirits.
Today, I dreamt that I was in Ti’s room and suddenly Ti kept clinging onto me. I was surprised (and a little bit grossed out), but attempts to get a reason out of his actions were in vain– Ti refusing to talk and all that. That was when I realised that gong gong was behind him.
Gong gong has been dead for close to six years.
I wasn’t scared of Gong gong, but his manifestation as a ghost still alarmed me (terrified of the supernatural that I am). We talked splendidly about things that were of no importance, while Ti retreated to the safety of my back. I really missed gong gong a lot… Well anyway he later went to the wall adjoining Ti’s room and Mum’s room and opened an imaginary door, peering through the creak and wanted to pass through the wall to visit Aunty Serene in Mum’s room.
(It sounds pretty complicated, but Mum’s room used to be Aunty Serene’s room, and Ti’s room used to be Gong gong’s room for a certain period of time.)
I was quite creeped out by this action and persuaded him not to simply go through the wall, which may scare whoever was on the other side of the door, and he agreed. Suddenly there was a letter in my hands and while I tried to decipher the horrible handwriting while sitting on the edge of Ti’s bed, Gong gong was opening the cupboard door which used to house all his karang guni stuff. I peered over the letter to see him disappear out of the room while the opened cupboard door slowly closed by itself. That was the end of that segment of the dream.
A couple of days ago, Uncle Roger visited us and there was a moment where he just sat next to me, removed his spectacles, rubbed at his eyes and said tiredly, “I really miss gong gong…”.
To which I replied in my usual socially-retarded manner, “But his death anniversary is in November! It’s not even close.”.
… I think my subconscious is trying to make amends.