summers' broken through. the searing sunlight is more parts heat than anything else. it's that kind of uncomfortable weather that leaves you drenched without you even knowing it.

i've turned into a neat freak, these past few years. many a hostel story has been told, involving me, my window cleaner, armed and ready to disinfect the room at 2 am. my old room now tells a similar story.

i miss the cool, slow, languidness of islamabad.

without even realizing when it happened, i've been sewn into this community. one in which we work together, live together, put our hair down together, mourn together, celebrate together. their isn't much of a rite of passage.. you sort of just become.

i have a few weeks to spend as i please. here's to expanding.