I woke up late today. With a sip of mango juice — the one Angah bought yesterday that left me confused and realise that I forget how it tastes — I started my morning with a small DIY painting, a canvas even smaller than A5. A bee, a flower, a sun. Yuna’s Camaraderie played softly in the background. It’s the first painting I’ve completed in a year, even though it’s far from the first painting set I’ve impulsively bought online. Maybe there’s really no such thing as the instant result I always expect in everything I do. Maybe I just needed to start small. It’s been a while since I last had a genuinely good day. Yesterday was one of those rare ones; siblings day out. Everything flowed smoothly. After picking up my brother from his university, we went to the nearest mall, performed our prayer, and caught a local horror film — surprisingly good, actually. Then we had dinner; I ordered a chicken chop. This is probably my comfort food at this age - out of so many food, who...