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January 9, 2012 | Hong Kong

it only took three days before we were sitting in the park, almost four o’clock in the morning, arguing. again. I don’t know why we keep going back to each other when there is obviously nothing left to be said. I peeled mandarins for myself, I can still smell the sweet scent on my fingers.
I flipped through mandela’s biography, carefully reading the words, noticing the ones, which were highlighted. I fell asleep in my best friend’s giraffe pajama with a tail, dreaming of nothing. the morning came and I couldn’t remember what was the argument about. irrelevant, it’s always irrelevant and it’s always about me. it’s tiring. everything is tiring.