Shen Zhen, Hong Kong, Hong Kong again, Kuala Lumpur,
And a 10-line resignation letter later,
I'm finally finding time and mood to write again.
Almost 2 months since I've moved out
I'm getting used to savouring alone moments with vodka (smirnoff apple - a new favourite) and words.
Spirits have somewhat been lifted of late -
Perhaps because I'm smoking again. Or maybe it's knowing that I've finally found enough cushion to begin my departure from consulting. Could be the frequent little escapes from Singapore.
Whatever it may be, I'm on the road to some kind of recovery. Bloody relief.
*
Finally bought a copy of The Tears' debut.
Rather disappointing; it's as if the wonder twins should have left it as it was after Dog Man Star.
Mediocre lyrics, often boring tunes.
Having said that of course I'd still go see them play.
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The hours between 4 and 6 in the morning are most likely to turn me inside out.
That is, to bring out the cotton-wool vulnerability in me.
I realised this on the way to the airport on Wednesday morning,
Clock reading 15 minutes past 5, Carpenters on the radio.
There's a certain depressing lonliness about being on the road when the hotels are cleaning their carpets, people are washing the pedestrian paths, and the world seems to be covered in the street-lamp tinge of orange.
*
Sometimes you give up that mite-ridden doll for lego blocks
Only to realise that you really wanted that doll afterall.
But such is life, TOUGH, deal with it.
Perhaps some day you stop lamenting, perhaps you don't.
*
I've been to some really beautiful places in the past months.
Hua Hin was romantically picture-perfect.
Koh Samui was a bag of cute little ironies.
Hong Kong was like a Christmas light-up.
My heart was the same in each of those places.
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