Sui Generis

Don't let a person with a cold heart fool you. They were once warm too Till the coldness of fear came and  held it firmly in its steely claws. Or perhaps, They heard stories Of how cruel the world is And shut themselves in. Slowly they begin to change First their thoughts Then their actions And their words When there is nothing left They wished they were warm Again. But it was far too late, For they felt nothing. All there was,  Was ice And the long chill settles after a blizzard.

‘Mama, my feet are cold.’ ‘Come warm your little toes by the fire, darling.’ I’ve always had cold feet. Colder than anyone else’s. Though not corpse-cold, but enough to have to keep wearing thrice the layers of socks as  anyone else during winter, and occasionally during the warmer months. When I became a teenager, my cold feet syndrome  kept me from joining the others in the pool, fearing I would catch a case of frostbite. Or rather, just about anything that required removing my shoes, basically. ‘Why are her toes purple?’ ‘They look like they’re about to fall off.’ ‘Maybe she’s a zombie.’ Or rather, I was just afraid. Of everyone else. It wasn’t as though I had no friends. I made plenty. There was a girl, Marie. She was just as different as I was. She had cold hands, like dead fish. And another, whose name was Lydia, had a complexion so pale, she could’ve very well been a vampire. Together, we set our own rules and ab...

Life just isn't fair, is how it used to strike me. Some people can work their butts off and never get what they're aiming for, while others get it without any effort at all. [...] I think this viewpoint applies as well to the job of the novelist. Writers who are blessed with inborn talent can freely write novels no matter what they do--or don't do. Like water from a natural spring, the sentences just well up, and with little or no effort these writers can complete a work. Occasionally you'll find someone like that, but, unfortunately, that category wouldn't include me. I haven't spotted any springs nearby. I have to pound the rock with a chisel and dig a deep hole before I can locate the source of creativity. [...] But as I've sustained this kind of life over many years, I've become quite efficient, both technically and physically, at opening up a new hole in the rock and locating a new water vein. As soon as I notice one water source drying up, I can mo...

A freshly procured book - complete with that new-book smell - is like an open puzzle, eagerly awaiting its reader to take it apart and recreate something entirely different. Would you deny it its aching aspiration? Because, honestly, what proves your existence more than a book with traces of you in it? At that precise moment, when you write even a single letter on its pages, you are the only one in the entire world who owns a book like that. That book is yours to claim as one of a kind because you wrote in it. So make that book yours - your own personal means of understanding the world and the people in it. Scribble in it. Write notes in its margins. Underline words that resonate. Don't fear defacing your precious literature. In the end, what is an empty canvas worth? A lived-in book serves more purpose than a brand new one that appears as though it has never been touched.  And after all that, you'll find yourself feeling impossible to read that book the same way agai...

It's true what some people say - when you lose touch with a person, your feelings dissipate along with that lost connection, especially if the relationship between those two people was a superficial one prior to the separation. Even more so if you've harboured feelings for that person, and you can feel it fading against your will as time slowly creeps past you. Even though it felt like it's been two weeks since you last talked to them, you realise that it's only been two days, and you feel this gnawing sensation in your brain, wondering what you're doing with your time wasted over thinking about something that only has a five percent chance of actually happening in reality, instead of the fantasies you conjure up as you try to your greatest efforts to fall asleep in the dark. In those moments of 'dead time', those moments when you're not wanting to do anything productive - being on a dull train ride, waiting in line at the cashier's, standing in...

Excuse the melancholic title, I was trying to put together my feelings and what would sound like Japan (land of the rising sun, get it?) Anyway, just three weeks ago, my ultimate dream was realized - I finally went to Japan. It was strange (yet, not really) because when I was in the nearly empty plane heading for Narita, I didn't feel a sense of nervousness, or excitement for that matter. I just felt exhausted, having just returned from nearly two weeks of intense travelling around parts of Europe, then flying off again the next night really worn me out. That said, I tried my best to catch some sleep during the flight of seven hours (it was a night flight). I recall waking up when the sun came up and saw one of the passengers seated in the next row take some pictures of the stunning sunrise glaring through the tiny window. Being jakun , I also did the same thing. well what do you know, it really is land of the rising sun! Landing in Narita at 8 am still didn't tickle ...

It's interesting how we desperately try to cling on to anything that can remind us of the specific past; certain songs, secret notes that we do not want to show anyone, virtual pictures of sweet, memories made, gifts bought - everything seems to suddenly hold a greater significance than anything that we've owned, especially if that certain past event has impacted us in an extremely strong way, say, perhaps emotionally and mentally. We try to recall with as much precision as our faulty memory is able to. It's pathetic, really, how much we try to recreate the past in our head.

This marks the last day of our tour, officially. This would also be the last time we'll ever see Howard or Peter, or all the others on tour with us. I was feeling rather reluctant to leave Europe, but we've all got to come back to reality when we're done frolicking. We changed buses at the other hotel. Peter and Howard would be taking the guests to the airport in Paris, while the other coach would take us to Calais and then back to London. Breakfast was super early at 6.30am but we had gotten so accustomed to waking up at 5.30am for the past 11 days that we had no problem waking up for an early breakfast. After breakfast, we went down to the lobby with a heavy heart. We were already bidding each other farewell and exchanging contacts while Howard and Peter dealt with our luggage. It would be the last time they wheeled and carried our bags around. That kinda has a depressing ring to it, don't you think? Everyone who would be leaving Europe boarded the coach one last...

This is it. It's the last day of tour (second last, but we're leaving for London tomorrow) We visited a few tourist-iconic places today: Notre Dame, The Lourve, and the Eiffle tower. We went to pick up our local specialist first - her name was Elizabeth - by the Arc de Triumph and we took a nice city tour on the coach towards Notre Dame. Only seven of us did not sign up for the optional experiences today (Notre Dame tour and going up the Eiffle tower). I didn't feel that we needed to ascend the tower as it was just to see the whole of Paris from a vantage point. Least to say, we didn't need to see Paris from a vantage point. Anyway, we were dropped off near Notre Dame, and while the others went on the walking tour with commentary, I became tour guide for us seven and also took them to Notre Dame for pictures. As I've been here before (MUSSOC Paris Tour 2015) I was kinda familiar with getting to Notre Dame from where we were. It wasn't very far anyway. We sna...

The trip to Paris was 9 bloody hours. From Switzerland, we made our way out of the Swiss alps and into the flat plains of France. We made toilet breaks almost every three hours. It must've been arduous for Peter to be driving nine hours during the day. We watched 'My Life In Ruins', fitting for our group haha. I think Howard purposfully screened that film to show what being a travel guide is like. Nothing much happened during the day, as you've expected, there was a lot of sleeping, and a film. Fast forwarding to actually arriving in Paris, I felt like arriving back at some place familiar, even though I've only been to Paris once for 6 days, just over 3 months ago. It felt nostalgic coming back here as a tourist instead of as a performer/tourist. It was 4pm when we arrived the very swanky hotel. Like some say, you start big you end big. After checking in, we left for Champ Elysee where we were dropped off to have some dinner. After taking some pictures at the ...

This one is gonna be rather short because I was too tired to write as we went around. In the morning, we went to the base of Mount Pilatus to ascend the mountain by cogwheel train. It was a slow ascend, and a cold one. Of course it wasn't without reward. The view was incredible! Vast green lands, sparkling lakes, open skies, it was all so picturesque. There were even cows grazing! We called them mountain cows lol. They had cowbells tied around their necks that sounded whenever they moved. So every time we heard the sound of bells, we whipped out our cameras and searched for the cows. However, halfway to the top, the scenic view transformed into that of ghastly fog. We couldn't see anything outside our windows! Upon arriving at Mt. Pilatus, we were given free rein to roam around, take pictures and shop at the gift store. But because of the fog, there wasn't exactly much to see. We were also ill equipped for the weather in the mountain. Luckily I brought a cardigan and a h...

I left my charger and adapter in the hotel :'( we noticed when my mum wanted to charge her phone on the coach and couldn't find my charger, nor the adapter. I was asleep then, and instantly was awake, feeling a creeping dread in my gut. I recalled not unplugging it because my mum's phone was still charging. And that's probably where it still is. "Did you unplug it?" I asked, hoping that she did, but, by the look on her face, I found my answer. The dread fell over me like a heavy weight. I don't like losing my things because I'd have to replace them, and many a time I'd have grown attached to them. Yes, I'm a hoarder. Also the international adapter wasn't cheap, which deepened my guilt further. I wanted to divert the blame, but obviously that isn't going to help with the situation except for making myself feel better. I swallowed my guilt and wallowed in it until I fell asleep again. When I woke up, there was a documentary showing about...

My dark circles are beginning to become more prominent. I look like I've not slept in  days. Technically that's true, I've not had proper sleep since the tour started. I had great sleep in pretty nice hotels definitely, but not solid sleep. I do sleep in the bus, but everyone knows the body only considers those kinds of sleep as naps. So every morning, I wake up at 5.30-5.45 while my mum wakes up at 5. Bless her. My eyes are constantly tired in the morning and my brain feels like thick haze. I can think rather clearly but my body is sluggish. I.e I'm still asleep. On the contrary though, I think my thought process is more critical in this state, as in, more judgemental. Maybe my subconscious hates the world for making myself wake up so bloody early in the morning, but early mornings are no place for war, especially when you're on tour. We stopped by a freeway stop at about five to ten. The place was freaking three storeys high, and of course the facilities had to...

Second day in Rome, I had a wonderful sleep but sadly not enough rest. Breakfast was uh.. pretty basic compared to the past few days: bread, cheese, hams and fruit. Reminded me of my trip to Paris a few months ago. Anyway, we left the hotel 7.20am on the dot so we could be the first ones into the Vatican. Trust Trafalgar to be the best in planning ahead. We met up with our local specialist again and she led us into the Vatican City. It doesn't look as ancient as I thought or romanticised it to be, but it was breathtaking nonetheless. The galleria filled with marble sculptures, incredibly preserved tapestries (cleaned in a large pool every hundred years) and intricate the fresco that adorned the ceilings and walls of the hallways. It was beautiful, and being able to see so much history was amazing. From the galleria we went to the Sistine Chapel where Michelangelo spent 4 years painting the ceiling of the chapel. It was glorious! We weren't allowed to take picture because the ...

Bonjorno! That's hello in Italian :D We got the back seat today! So much leg room!! And it's not bumpy! (Thanks Peter) Anyway, we're heading to Roma today. It's gonna be a long ride since we'll only be arriving at about 1pm where it'll be hottest, probably. -- Well, it wasn't so bad. It was hot, definitely, but it wasn't as bad as Venice. Venice was sweltering hot. The road to Rome was really windy and bumpy. I kinda felt woozy halfway through, but recovered after 15 minutes. We stopped by the first pitstop in the morning for a toilet break. I didn't go, and luckily I didn't as there were about 3 other coaches. A few of us chilled in the shade while the rest queued up for the loo. The next stop was 2 & 1/2 hours away so we slept. At the next stop, we had lunch. We had packed sandwiches from the hotel during breakfast and my mum bought a salad bowl (because we desperately needed greens). At least the toilet was free. So after lunch we we...

I had another post but aparently it just stuck to saving mode and I can't access it. Anyway, breakfast was delicious this morning but a tad bit salty, we left as usual at 7am and headed for Italy. We stopped at our first R&R for the day in Tentro I think, or past Tentro, I can't remember. I waited for the rest of the family near the bus while they went for a toilet break. I chatted with a couple of the other tour goers, took some pictures of the mountains and of the birds. When 20 minutes passed and they hadn't returned, I was beginning to worry that they were waiting for me, so I went to sought them out. Turned out, to my horror, they bought two bags of chocolate. Couldn't really blame them though, there was a sale going on and chocolate was going cheap. And so, they bought the chocolate. Because of the massive queue of Chinese tourists, we were a little late to going back to the bus. Anyway, we continued on our journey. We watched the scenery transform before u...

Breakfast as usual at 6.30 am and it was delicious. In my opinion, the food here us much tastier than the classy hotel in Amsterdam. At least the scrambled eggs didn't look and taste like the ones I had in halls. We boarded the bus at 7.30am and headed for Munich. The weather was brilliant, bright cloudless skies, warm sun and just wide open farmlands, mainly wheat and corn so it's very brown and green. Compared to northern Germany, there are more rolling hills. We stopped at a freeway stop at 9.30am for some coffee and toilet breaks. The toilet system is so high tech! So you pay say, €0.70 at a toll like entrance and it produces a ticket which entitles you to a €0.50 off for food and drinks that you can buy. So toilet entry is actually just €0.20. We returned to the bus at 10am to resume our journey. We arrived in Munich and drove past the olympic stadium and the Munich university, very fancy, then we stopped outside the opera house (?) and walked down the road for our own ...