i stumble onto my primary school alumni association, and am suddenly transported into another world. the memories are delicious and hazy and return in fits. the awkward shyness comes back, but not the pain of awkwardness. the years have polished the child.
the language comes back, which i have not used in years. not at the hello how are you level i mean, but something that is more than purely functional. at native level, malay is as gracefully gently lyrical, as chinese is sharply intellectually satisfying. my loss, to have misplaced one and never acquired the other.
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