Currently listening to:Nothing
Status:Literally camped out in the lobby like a hobo using the free wifi








Sitting in a new country, and i find myself prefixed on the same few thoughts that won’t go away

1. i don’t like airplanes. i love traveling and i suffer from intense bouts of wanderlust from time to time, but i have an irrational fear of airplanes. I don’t know when this started, because when i was a kid i was cheerfully zipping to and fro New Zealand without so much as a second thought. As i grew older though, vague worries started plaguing me, and over time, coalesced into a single line: We are in a tin can in the air. A tin can. In the air. A high tech tin can with cushions and remote controls and wine, but a tin can nonetheless.

Usually it leads somewhere down the thought path of We are going to Die.

My thought processes are always plural, like there are two independent beings- me, and then, the head. “We” are going to die. “You” have no common sense. What is “your” problem. We are two separate beings. I have company. We are not alone.

2. So with this fierce conviction that each time i fly, i am going to die, i start to wonder. After someone dies, what next? What do you do with the residue stains all over the world wide web? Does someone issue an official announcement? Her real life counterpart is no longer living, but we’ll keep her online persona/digital footprint alive in memoriam. This fixation with death is not healthy. We are not alone.
Keep quiet.
No.
Stop talking.
Are you talking to yourself?

I am going to drown you in gin &tonic.

3. Take a step back instead, appreciate these new surroundings which don’t feel new. My sisters relive their hongkong-drama-watching phase at every turn, screaming “DA QIANG LE!” and “LAI LAI, MAI ROU” to each other before bursting into giggles. And they say I’m the strange one. Anyway, I don’t watch hongkong dramas so i don’t recognize much. They do.

4. I find myself in possession of this strange preoccupation with the words “scalding” “curtains” and “skin”, also, the number of permutations these words have in relation to each other.

5. My sisters have interpreted my statement “I’m all yours for the week” to mean, “you can do whatever you want with me” and they won’t stop singing the Smurfs theme song in name of sisterly bonding. I can’t get it out of my head. Its driving me nuts.

x
‚ô•jem