Friday, February 25, 2011

3rd week. done.

One moment you're running up and down platforms wondering which train to take from Kowloon to get back to Tsim Sha Tsui with the craziest people ever, next thing you know, you're butt nekid in the hot springs of Wu Lai in Taiwan.

Before you know it, you find yourself digging up files from 2 summers ago, when you had the best time jammin' with buds at Akarkarya, sitting on a chair you think is bad for your back.

John Mayer's voice hits every wall in your new suburban room, and you wonder how you ended up here. You still press the 14th button when you go down to the city to see your girlfriend, and you forget that you're no longer the tiny gear you were in the big machine. No more sun-nappin at Carlton Gardens, no more weekday cafe spots.

Like being left with commercialised cafes that open on weekends is not bad enough (pretentious, I know), you find yourself stuck on the West Gate Bridge at 11.23pm, wondering why you have the wheel in your hands, and which continent you're in.

Another month and you're gonna be shaking with a pen in your hand, wondering whether the greyhound's dilated post-prandial lymphatics are physiological or pathological.

1 comment:

Sarah said...

definitely loved the end to this post. :) hope all's well, xiong!

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