indulgence, the night before

salted egg yolk crabs
makeshift picnic blanket

1. halfway through the evening, pre-dinner chatter and beef rendang excitement melts into complete silence as we pick at crab legs and spoon creamy, pale yellow sauce over mounds of rice. fingers become claw-like. we get to work with shell crackers and end up with flecks of crab on our fingertips and salty-rich smears all over our palms. i love that no one is shy, that the food is amazing to the point of requiring total concentration, and also secretly that neighbouring diners occasionally peer over our shoulders to gawk at our special order feast. those dulu kala crabs did not die in vain! the next thing i know we are curled up on a 2m rectangle of paisley cloth i had only bought two hours before, growing sleepy on this makeshift picnic blanket by the still seletar waters. goodnight.

2. tomorrow i am interviewing for a job i am not sure i want. some days, ‘want’ refers to desiring something good and sensible, something you could predict me ‘wanting’ based on my resume. other days, however, the extent of wanting spins throughout the unknown future, unravels back to childhood dreams, and the first definition becomes glaringly void. every single time this happens i berate myself for being self-indulgent but then there is always another ‘if’ around the corner, and the same unanswerable questions. the only thing that makes sense are sam’s words, effortless words — but you haven’t given it a chance yet…perhaps the night is young?

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