Monday, September 07, 2009

I bit into the bagel eagerly. After all, it's been a year since this time and I've missed it. But it tasted nothing like what I'd remembered. Perhaps it really isn't about what you do, but who you do it with. Nothing's the same this time. I'm alone in the house; I have to face my own fears. There's no one coming to visit me. The Beacon we stayed at the last time has shut its doors and in its place, a swanky upscale boutique hotel has been drawing a crowd. The donut store that I got so many sugary fixes from is gone. There's a Burger King around the corner. Many of the nightmarket stalls I'd grown familiar with and fond of have disappeared. Even the crowd is different - there are so many more foreigners now.

And I catch myself wondering why I keep coming back here. What does this place hold for me?

I'm way more comfortable here than I ever was in Singapore. Sure, the mass transit network is easily navigated back home; there's no starving in the middle of the night with the multitude of late night prata stalls and coffee shops; amenities are within easy reach and conveniently located; the air isn't thick with smog; the water is potable... the list could go on. Yet I keep coming back here and am always sad to leave.

I don't understand it.

I've lived in Singapore all my life, truly born and bred. But there's something about this place that feels more like home even though I'm lost here in the city, I always am. I haven't figured out the traffic rules and the roads are just one massive ball of spaghetti - curling round each other, bringing you to strange parts of town if godforbid you should ever take a wrong turn. I haven't truly explored even central Taiwan. My knowledge of this place is so limited.

Perhaps here I find the space I seek. I spend all day by myself (sure I'm on MSN a lot, but in the silent gaps of time I'm sitting alone and being with myself), learning new things about the way I think and see the world, learning to appreciate my own company, learning to live with myself really.

Perhaps I like my mom better here. She's happier with her own family. She's doesn't yell as much. Sometimes we're almost close. Also, being on the scooter when she's on the wrong side of the road and without a license kinda makes us partners in crime and that's a great feeling. Haha.


There's so much I want to say but it gets lost in the structure of a paragraph. This is why, darls, you'll never be as rewarding as a conversation.


AnRu reminisced at 10:35:00 AM.


what do you do, when the person who can stop your tears is the person who makes you cry?

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