Haemoglobic Journal In The Middle Of The Night

i am at a loss for words tonight. a million and one things to blog about, but i can’t find seem to find the right degree of concern or earnest. i’m breathing in all this distraction that seems to morph into fatigue as it makes its way through my bloodstream and coils itself around my vital organs. squeeze. sleep. so many wonderfully good news, not yet any bad. but i’m waiting for it to come; precariously, hardened, accepting.

there is a pack of honey dijon-flavoured Kettle Chips on the table. addictive? iconic. i once knew a man who hated chips but loved this particular brand. this man now sleeps in the next room. and i’m going to join him now, because i’m at a loss for words tonight. sleep. and what will tomorrow bring? i have my alarm set for 10.30 a.m: that’s 12 hours after last night’s 10.30 p.m - an hour that was spent at the food court in Changi Airport eating taiwanese rice and this really awful-tasting barley drink and a pill. it was homecoming, all right. we giggled and laughed the entire day, mostly sleeping on the plane or making fun of each other. i really wanted to blog about this really stupid thing that he said during the flower market trip, but i’ve forgotten what it is. memory like a sieve. sucks. maybe when i wake up i will remember.

yknow, i’m blogging in this sleep-deprived state that feels almost like a drunken high. i wouldn’t be surprised if i’m slurring my text. and so i shall take my leave, but not before enclosing herewith a picture of the place we’ve been in over the past 5 days. he took this from the balcony while i was asleep. he crawled back into bed with me and said he wanted to show me something, but i pleaded for 5 minutes more of slumber, and that was that, because we both fell asleep and woke up much much later, when all the snow was gone and we had missed out on a wonderful breakfast spread that we later learned had mantao and these really delicious rosti potatoes.

isn’t it beautiful? we were up in the mountains; couldn’t breathe right for almost three quarters of the time we were there. they call this place Shangri-La, heaven on earth, but heaven isn’t really heaven without altitude-sickness pills, warm gloves and those little oxygen tanks Martian kept inhaling from.

he told me to pack for the winter, but blissfully obstinate as always, i brought 3 short skirts. i thought one pair of jeans or my leggings would be warm clothing enough, but obviously i was drastically wrong. i wouldn’t even have brought my wooly pink jacket if he hadn’t forced me to pack it in on the morning that we left. so yes, i near froze to death. but it was a very nice near-death experience. i caught a glimpse of heaven :)

goodnight now :)

53 comments March 24th, 2008