Writer’s cave

I am sitting outside the entrance of Organ cave as I write. There are wasps buzzing around me, and I can’t get any peace. No shelter from the hot sun either. I’m baking and regretting my earlier decision not to follow my friends inside the cave.

A lot has happened since I last wrote, which was about a week ago.

In that week, I’ve found a freelance job that pays me twice as much as what my current one does!

I’m still keeping my daytime job for now, while I get used to freelancing.

I feel like I’m one step towards my dream life. A life where my time is my own, where I can be anywhere I want to be without being restricted by my job. A life where I have the time to write and make a living all at once.

Right now, I feel a nice cool breeze lifting the air, which makes writing a bit more enjoyable. The wasps are still circling me though, probably telling me to get off their territory. I must be underneath a wasp tree, I hear a swarm of wasps nearby.

It’s the long weekend over here, which means I get a three day break. I’m travelling up North with friends and trying to fit in a bit of freelance work.

This trip is also an opportunity to test out what it’s like to travel and work at the same time. If it’s manageable, I’ll take myself across Europe and go on a long vacation.

I’ve been writing for an hour already?

My friends are back. I hear their voices. I have never been so glad to hear their familiar voices, and to get away from these angry wasps.

Until next time.

Does heaven have a translator?

At the time of my grandfather’s passing, I made him a booklet describing all of the things that I had done during my holiday in China. On the last page, I wrote him a goodbye letter, wishing him a safe journey to the other side.

When I showed this to my dad, he pointed out an obvious flaw: How could Agong understand the letter if it was written in English?

The answer was obvious. There’s a translator in heaven, translating all the foreign letters written by the grandchildren who were raised overseas.

This idea inspired an image of an elderly man walking in heaven, trying to find a translator to help him read his granddaughter’s letter.

I’d like to think that the booklet has kept Agong thoroughly entertained and that he is watching from afar, reminding me to keep the light in my spirit.