The Layered Apology

the raw onion smell freaks me out nowadays. last weekend, I peeled a few sambar onions. the tips of my fingers still smell like them. the hands have been washed a minimum of fifty times in the meanwhile. so randomly, thinking about it today I remembered I forgot about this blog – or actually pushed it to the back of my head.

I was actually waiting to set up my kitchen and actually get to a bit of cooking before I wrote anything. the truth – the kitchen is still a random bunch of boxes with a shelf full of colourful ingredients, I just don’t go to see anymore. something is keeping me away. as clutter gathers, the body becomes an onion.

this onion can walk and just mooches off the next best thing. an already clean house at offer somewhere else. it can’t find a single layer to clean its own clutter. clutter-free is an etiquette. clean counters come with it.

simultaneously, my mom is training me to become a junior Mr. Monk at her house.

so clearing a part of my head, by kicking up this space and hoping it will guilt me in to making a meal or two.

to beat the heat, here’s a story a friend made for a college project.

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Chew on this

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