Bright lights, narrow streets, football at CHIJMES and Wisma, spag-top-and-jeans-and-flip-flops for the girls and berms-or-jeans-and-t-shirt for the guys, rebonded hair, hokkien terminologies, familiar faces cut out from scrapbooks of the past, faces that belonged to a part of you but are indiscernibly shaped and outlined now, memories, memories attached to each haunt, each hangout, each shop, each mall, each street, each uniform, each occasion, they all stick, stick, stick, they don't leave
Is that why this is nearly utopic?
I want to be back home. I really do. But a spirit of something just lingers around in sg, a spirit which reminds me too much of what I've left behind......
I surrender all
