I love riding down John Nolen Dr in the mostly empty bus. The lake is beautiful either way. On sunny days, the water is calm but it’s almost silvery – sunlight is my favourite bleaching agent. On dreary days, well… the humidity feels like a welcum breath of fresh air.
I’ve stayed away from writing mostly because I’ve lacked the time or when I do have the time, I just want to be the most unproductive that I can be. I’ve also been more hesitant about writing because it is reflective, it is cathartic, it is….a little exposed.
I’ve noticed that my fashion sense feels very early 2000s, feels very antiquated and modest. I don’t think I actively seek out modesty but there is something about the fashion trends now that I find a little too tacky for my taste. Baring my midriff only feels normal when I’m in the piping hot yoga studio. Or maybe I’m just the OG auntie millennial.
Which is why this process of saying goodbye, of packing things up, of moving on feels anti-climactic. I think all that built-up anxiety of cultural re-adjustment simmered and settled in the Malaysian heat. I’m positive a lot of the unpacking that I have left will take place later privately in the other side of the world. It is almost as if, my personal reflection is shielded by this unspoken, given sense of modesty.
Maybe, change is something I love even if I have a tendency to romanticise the past.
Maybe, saying goodbye and doing all that mental unpacking will happen when I feel more locked in geographically.
It’s a little lull before my fave John Nolen Dr scenery turns into airport runways and living like a nomad.
My contentment feels cosy. It is a modest expression of security as I write from underneath my purple polka dotted throw.
Smell you soon, bubba, GG Tan, and most certainly, airplane exhaust.