Plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting around for somebody to give you flowers"
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.