"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