"Jacqueline Koh
Plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting around for somebody to give you flowers"
February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 July 2010 August 2010 September 2010 October 2010 November 2010 December 2010 January 2011 February 2011 March 2011 April 2011 May 2011 June 2011 July 2011 August 2011 September 2011 November 2011 December 2011 January 2012 February 2012 March 2012 April 2012 May 2012 June 2012 July 2012 August 2012 September 2012 October 2012 November 2012 December 2012 February 2013 June 2013 June 2014 January 2015 April 2015

Saturday, November 3, 2012 || 7:55 AM

I love cities more than people, in general.

When I'm unhappy (- usually caused by people and the lack of being away) and is in dire need of a happy nostalgic memory, I think of a city ( - note: not human beings) I have been to, or lived in and I soak in the particular few happy seconds. Then almost immediately I feel more than awful because I will then mentally gauge  and compare the different levels I would score in a happy-o-meter then and now. 

When I think of Adelaide, I think of their gravel paths scattered with crunchy brown maple leaves, of how climbable their trees are, how insanely long some birds' legs are, of giant gumballs, beautiful candy stores, crafted boomerangs, where I had my first cold rock ice-cream with lots of crazy toppings, how I first tasted snow with my tongue and saw how large a dew drop can be and of having trolleys filled with home-grown oranges. 

Shanghai was a little more uncouth and rough edged, it was a city which  made me feel how 'owning' an apartment felt like, how being a 'student expat' felt like - how being ranked in the upper levels of the hierarchy feels like, and the sociological aspect of speaking a different language in a different location - and how I am judged and treated differently because of that. 
One thing I realized though, was that whenever I am out away from the little island, I tend to want to take in the place I am in a little more - through breathing the city's air. I guess I felt more alive. 

When I think of people, I don't really think of anything at all. Well, mostly. 
When I think of people, I reckon I picture them to be like a Starbucks -  will always run into one of them round the bend of a street almost everywhere. 
But of course, I have my favourite Starbucks outlets, those which serves my granola just the way I like it done - with warm soy milk. And of course, it applies only to the outlets who likes serving granola with warm soy milk. 

X