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when i was 5 MAG
the pages of a 2006 diary – tainted milky-yellow and a slight ripped-off corner,
dates an innocuous fantasy journey to the heights of distant flying gulls (a sweaty, budget-airline flight);
an exploration in the inner depths of the Narnia seas (a discounted ticket to Underwater World);
the battle of a clanking, laser-shooting robot and a handmade cotton chicken (available in stores for only $0.99);
and in the corners of various chapters, doodles of heart shapes and smiley faces – disproportioned, sweeten the ends of the magical trips
(and, of course, those were waxy crayons found deserted in the radius of a trash bin)
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Occasionally, I pen down diary entries, and looking back at them makes me realize how simple life was portrayed by my mind back then.