  Scenario:  A newly burnt (  that sounds bad )  CD- R of a Glasgow band who call themselves Franz Ferdinand is out of its white envelope,  they are named after the Duke of Austria who got tragically whacked during a ceremony 56 years ago this very day on the country's national day and sparked a war that left an impact on the world for several years and more years,
 a badly scribbled free notepad that came with the expensive purchases at our favourite art materials store whose cashier is a snappy bitch snapping at people for membership cards,  a girl with a long runny nose sitting on the floor cutting a overbrownish printout of a shopping bag I made a few sleepless nights ago,  a can of spray mount hiding under the coffee table,  a song called trouble,  a wind called mariam and a sneaky stillness in the air denounces the upcoming zen- parallelism moment a tired soul is almost always expecting.
 I am just thinking about why the hell did i put the conditioner before the shampoo and where did the bathtub plug go to.  I havent been able to get my usual hot afternoon bathtub session for ages now and i kinda missed that.  I also miss the smell and taste of a certain flavoured cake i used to eat when i was a boy,  it doesnt taste like anything fruity,  or woody or savoury or french,  or vanilla malt or caramel or soaked in rum or the smelly tapai or berries and nuts or artificial.
 I miss the joy of nintendo,  the surprise in snakes and ladder or LUDO,  the greed and wealth of monopoly,  or poker and wet bills and odours of filthy pockets and fingers,  and the sight of wide open spaces,  green fields and climbing angsanas,
 and eating wildflowers like they are supposedly edible and harmless,  and buried treasures or found eggs in the bushes,  or sliding down the green wet slippery slopes on corrugated cardboards,  or plastic water guns with special homemade blend of onion,  chilli and ginger which blinds the eys of your enemies,  and older buddies who fuck up first in life before you,
 or older buddies who beat you up when you pissed them off and you run back home crying to an empty house where your neighbors keep staring at you but they are too poor to give love,  and neighbourhood stray cats that make a home of drains that seem to collect nothing but disease,  waste and larvae which must have disgusted everyone except mother nature so right during the day and so cold when it matters.  i miss the waking up to nightmares,  that physical buzzy feeling that gets to you when the tv is nowhere in sight but you know its turned on,  i miss the black and white noise,
 the colour bands,  and waiting in vain for my favourite TV shows because i couldnt read the tv listings nor am i aware that it exists in the first place,  the remote controlled car that s attached to the remote control by a grey wire,  the stolen toys,  the lost toys and the new ones that only come in good guys.  i also miss an awful lot of chances,
 avoided some by choice and i miss assembly for one whole year when i was in secondary 4.  i miss sinalco,  cherry ripes,  that pyramid shaped kueh and dark chocolates.  to be continued 
