“Sunday Monday Happy days, Tuesday Wednesday Happy days, Thursday Friday Happy Days. Saturday, what a day, groovin’ all week with you.”
Like to sing or hum out loud the above tune when I’m on a floaty high after something super duper has taken place. That’s my happy song.
A potent mix of perfume which I dun like together with the incense paper burning smells. I am now caught in such a situation.
And I desperately need to wear a mask, not for protection against H1N1 but the incessant incense paper burnings.
Gosh, now I cant differentiate between the haze and the burnings.
And then a cool windy breeze sweeps across. A brief respite. The thunder roared in the far distance.










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