My neighbour, an old lady in the 60s, 70s. She sits outside her house, on the small easy chair , her arms closed with a packet of rice on her lap. It is half opened, as if she started to open it only to stop abrubtly. her head low, her eyes staring glassly at the shoe rack which she is facing. She seems suspended in time, lost in her thoughts, her sadness and her grief. She does not move, her eyes filled with such sorrow that you too, can feel the pain in her heart. She sits there, waiting, remembering and then, when i leave and past her by to get to the lift - embrassed and rightfully ignored, she will allow herself to cry.

Parents should never have to outlive their children.

this desperate if not urgent need to do something sustainable with my life, to get sowhere but i dont really know where, for now. And to not languish into nothingness. I'm dying everyday if i have not lived while I'm alive.