Slept at 4am last night.
Within the short span of 3 hours of precious sleep, God knows how much time was actually dedicated to a seemingly loooong dream...
In my dream, I was back in Taiwan, when it was autumn and the skies was always a beautiful orange in the day and a light shade of purple when evening came. There was never a shortage of a gentle cooling breeze that rustled the falling leaves.
I was running, running alone. Behind me was the decadent camp, and my friends. In front were endless stretches of lush green rice fields swaying in the wind. It would have to be a big round before I could reach back to camp again. Turn back? I can't, for the distance was equally far. Besides, I wanted to reach the turning corner of the rice fields. The smell from them was calming, almost sweet. I was like running to the clouds, for the rice fields happily stretched on forever and where it finished, it was linked to the purplish clouds and skies. How long has it been since I ran I can't remember. I miss Taiwan and those days of long wild mad runs into the sunset, where I was fast, faster than any of my friends. Though I enjoyed those runs, I was never happy. Not once.
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