Glad that I followed my instinct to go to Prince of Wales for the three nights. It wasn't wild, but I met many interesting people, albeit having only short conversations each time (thank you, Renessa).
There's Amos, the IT bloke who dreads the corporate world and is dying to have a go at startups (again). There's Bruce, a U.K. BioTech grad who failed his cabin crew interview in KL, and tried his luck again in Singapore. Unfortunately he didn't succeed this time either. Went for a drinking session and only returned the next day. Man, wish I was drinking with him. This Sarawakian guy, I like. You go, dude.
And then there's Emily and her friend. I remember Emily's lovely name. I remember her friend's 'occupation' as drunk me phrased. She's a broadcast reporter for a local UK television channel. Maybe I'll see you again, in BBC this time around as you wanted!
Not forgetting the Canadian couple... who took a year off to travel the world! The guy actually quit his Geology job, that's nuts. I hope the boyfriend wasn't unhappy I talked to his partner, haha. She said "it's good to travel alone - you're forced to start a conversation with strangers". How true.
Oh, when planning a trip, don't plan beyond two, three weeks. It'll work fine.
There's a friendly Singaporean named Ralph, too. We had a chance to talk while we waited for the rain to subdue. City Mall near Somerset for a free aerial view, he said. Not many tourists know. I guess deep down, Singaporeans want to be friendly - but somehow the hustle and bustle brings you to think it's not worth the trouble to initiate. Sure glad I did!
I'll remember the spot, cheers.
Then there's the encounter with a peacock in the public. Wondering what is up with Singaporeans and their peacock statues, and an actual one running around like a chicken in a village - only this one is a peacock in a lavish yacht club.
It's almost comical, like a scene in an Owen Wilson movie where you go somewhere out of your comfort zone and you see fancy, out-of-the-norm animal. It's a decoration, that's what it is. Such a displacement, but the occupants see nothing wrong with it.
Oh yes, we (me, Izhar/Atan and Danny) chilled on a fucking yacht. With free flow beer all night, and a meatball breakfast the next day. There's also a yacht that belongs to a yakuza in the same marina. Thanks for that amusing information.
Oh, and I blacked out half way through the second day of Neon Lights. That was alarming (that's what I should say such situation despite not feeling as such, I guess)?It's the second time, now. I wonder where I'll end up the third time. Not looking forward to it, but third time's the charm!
I made some new friends in Irvin, Jamie and James. I thought the Singapore mamak is where I'll see them last. It turns out they were seated next to me in the flight back to KL. Small world.
Throughout my trip I was accompanied by plenty of music. One specific Latin song was being played by tourists in FootPrints hostel, on an acoustic guitar. As I reached my hometown, the same music was played by street performers in the Masjid Jamek train station. I refuse to see something so beautiful as a coincidence.
Well, what did we learn?
Corporate sucks.
Startups is the way to go.
Do what you want, not just what you can.
Count your blessings - one man's trash is another man's treasure.
Timing is crucial when it comes to starting a conversation - and everything else.
Take a year off to travel the world. Would you join me? Am I an easy travel companion?
I'll be fine being myself. I don't want to be indifferent, the way these elites are, at the sight of a lost peacock placed in my club as a higher grade substitute for a village chicken.
You can own a yacht. You can own four, if you want.
Also, based on the latest article by Malaysia Today about Kit Siang, I was taught to know my enemy (enemy being whoever you are dealing with). I wonder, do I know you anymore? I don't even know what I want, whether to know you or to forget you. At least I know I hate what I saw. Maybe I'll start from there.
- Remember what I wrote about strangers? That's what they were, the people on the above - strangers. But strangers tell you more stories than your friends, who keep the best stories, the experiences worth sharing - only to themselves, for whatever reason. I'm glad some friends like (or pretend to like) to listen to every little story I share, because I love hearing theirs just as much. I hope the ones with the best tales will feel the same, one day.
No comments:
Post a Comment