the air conditioned bell jar.

Just a few days ago I was contemplating taking this entire blog down. I didn't realise that so many of you were still reading it and feel an immense embarrassment for the recent low quality of writing.

The only reason i can attribute for my lack of writing is probably the lack of inspiration. There is nothing to feel happy about here in this country. we are all trapped in this air conditioned bell jar like goldfish with nothing better to do but stare at each other. The damn place is overcrowded and exists as a repetition of scenary, shops and things to do. it's also dreadfully painful being one of those trying to escape because you end up hitting the glass ceiling with nothing but bruises. It must be a phenomenon here, but i always feel like somehow this bell jar magnifies the outside world i see, making me feel even more pathetically small.

I've been told that i'm too harsh and bitter on this country. save for some articfially pretty juxtapositions, my process of rediscovering singapore was a confirmation - I cannot and will not subject myself to this place no matter what they say. The only saving grace is the more religious side of some of the older folks here - discounting the rest that pray for money.Home or not, i have never had any affinity with this place and frienships forged here have had nothing to do with the place. Our friendships exist over time and space, so i couldnt give a shit less for this place.

With Paris and the rest of Europe calling, I dont think i will need to think twice about where my spirit and being wants to be. I am a willing victim of wanderlust, and i'm happy that i have this wonderful sickness. At this moment, I couldn't be happier.