Here’s the thing: he’s not really my twin. YD was actually born 2 years after I was, but due to our identical heights, more-than-similar facial features (though we both claim that we’re the better looking one), and indistinguishable round-rimmed glasses that differ only subtly in hue, most people don’t even bother to ask whether we’re twins because they often assume that two people who look so alike can only have come from the same zygote. (Disclaimer: scroll to the bottom of this post for our picture together.)
But despite our mirroring appearances, our lives could not have been more different…
Sleepy eyes were floating around, unfocused but not without purpose. Tens of people nudged and shouldered each other to fight for that elusive last spot on the subway, while those who had already secured their seats cut themselves off from the ongoing mayhem by channeling their attention onto their 6-inch smartphone screens. It was a typical Monday morning in New York.
Amongst the mostly black-and-gray army of suits, a single man distinctly stood out from the pack. He was of average height, but he was wearing a white T-shirt and bright red pants that could probably have been visible from…
I used to rule the world. Well not really. But whenever I had sat on my Dad’s shoulders as a kid, hovering over all my kindergarten buddies, I really did feel as if the world was my little oyster. Dad was my Superman, almighty and omniscient, not to mention quite humorous, too. Asking him innocent questions of all sorts — “why’s the moon following us wherever we go?” — as he got off work and picked me up from my aunt’s was my favorite time of the day.
Daft Punk’s Get Lucky is playing on Spotify. Funny how their biggest…
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