SHORT AND NOT-REALLY-FUNNY STORY.

X: Mooch Mooch.

Z: If you keep making sound like that your blind cat would think you're a mouse and start to be friendly when meeting a real one.

X: But she's blind, she can't see a mouse. She thinks every animal kind is her kind.

Z: She can't see a kind but she can smell one. Every kind smells different.

X: True. But it doesn't mean if something smells different, it would be a mouse, which means she wouldn't assume it was a mouse immediately.

Z: Could be. But she'd know it wasn't a cat.

X: Not really. She could think: "This cat is weird."

CATHY WITH THE MAGIC CIGARETTES.

In Sex and the City season 1, Carrie Bradshaw had a story idea of a little girl named Cathy who had magic cigarettes that could take her anywhere in the whole wide world if they got lit up. What a pity Carrie didn't have a chance to continue telling the story.

Maybe, we can finish the work for her as this was quite an idea, a children book for adults that contained magic cigarettes. Though most of the time I don't smoke, I can still outsource the storyline with the recalls of the last times I lit up a cigarette. 

1. RAMBUTAN BY THE WINDOW.

Probably a year ago. I was chewing rambutan by the window at 1 a.m. and smoking my last white Marlboros. It was meaningless, I hardly swallowed any smoke. But during that time, I was thinking a lot about Singapore. I knew they had MM6 and Etat Libre d'Orange over there, which kept me imagining from frame to frame of my reactions when I finally got a chance to feel something Margiela and smelled the scent of Putain des Palaces.

2. AT THE STUDIO.

That's a week ago. I was finishing up some work at 1 p.m. with a stomach full of fried chicken and shrimp burger. The cigarettes were right there. Perfect timing. I lit up a blue Marlboro and lay back ready for it to kick in. Then I realized I never swallowed smoke. So I started getting lost in my thoughts again. It was New York with the fast living pace full of opportunities and risks. 

Suddenly, a piece of writing about "indigo child" showed up on my newsfeed. Do you believe in the existence of indigo children? It's like self-ascription. Did I use the correct word? I mean it's like we believe that we're special in a mystical way while we're all the same in real life. 

3. SUSHI BAR.

Yesterday, I hung out at Tadioto as they were freshly serving sushi. My salmon sashimi was ok though I still think sushi should be served in a quieter space with a more gentle service, cleaner surroundings and cozier lighting. I don't know if my experience at Tadioto was out of the box or disrespectful to sushi. The first word is too bold and the second word is too hard. But I'll definitely give it a try again soon to find out. It's my favorite place anyway, and they serve my favorite food.

The thing is, I smoked. The atmosphere that night was so heavy. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I was feeling very ugly in and out. I was sitting opposite of my friend and I felt like a part of us secretly hated each other yesterday. I sought for an invisible escape in my head but all I could think of was the exact place and time in reality. 

"You see yourself in the mirror -> yourself in the mirror -> yourself in the mirror -> yourself in the mirror -> yourself in the mirror -> yourself in the mirror -> yourself in the mirror -> yourself in the mirror -> yourself in the mirror -> yourself in the mirror -> yourself in the mirror..."

It went on and on until I got back home. Those cigarettes flew me to nowhere but a destination of "stuck". Things only turned better the next day, today, when I stop overthinking and cook myself a decent meal.