let lemons be angry

a) My little france on a beach.

b) Ironic that when we're told to think of the happiest day of our lives, we feel sad.

c) Green happiness, to fit life into a chinese mtv. Desaturated film clips of board games and pillow fights at home, a clean and simple kind of sadness. Girls in chinese mtvs wipe their tears and move on, staring at potted plants and their white fingers. It's the best kind of sadness to have, a child's broken heart.

d) And a surreal sense of being lifted off the ground during breakfast prayer on bev's balcony. This is our home, where we must be, where our friends are, where we will grow. (patriotic sharon) I've never felt a fresher sense of home than on that balcony. Or lying facing the wall and talking through impending sleep about everything. We blurt out during sleepovers and sleep it off, and we wake up the next morning loving ourselves, God and each other a little bit more.

e) Or sitting in home club just because that was the best way to spend my saturday. Without any real purpose but to be with the glue girls and be as alive as i can be.

f) Dancing my hair off where nobody can see me, in the dark. Does your mother know?

g) Learning to live without the little ghost trailing me, wrapping its arms of smoke round my waist.

All these things occurred to me on my walk home, or more like, my antsy tiptoe over earthworms being washed over the pavement by the rainflood. Sharon said it right. I have to remember who I was and where I came from, starting from that bright japanese day when I looked up into the sky and had a clear vision of who You were and what You want for me. I have grown into someone with fightsmarts and tricks, You taught them to me. To see me crumble over something trivial must hurt You. Warriors are not trained only to be defeated by children.