Cold Windows
February 26th, 2010
i stopped at the window on the 18th floor to press my hands against the cold glass and to breathe onto it. outside, the snowflakes were flying and tumbling against the grey skies, whisked along by the wind in a manner that seemed so carefree. from up here, i could see people and their black umbrellas fighting against the difficult snow as they walked the pavements. it’s funny, but as a person who’s been living for the past two years in new york, a city where tall buildings are quite unavoidable, i don’t look out the windows of high-rise buildings very much. i live on the 8th floor and that’s about the highest i will go.
the truth is that i avoid the views. i know they’re pretty but they’re also painful. they remind me of so many things, like the 30th floor, the 22nd floor, the 19th floor, and even the 12th floor. flashes of the different views from various apartments and hotels come to me, and these are the kind of things you approach only when you’re strong enough. the last time i’d dared to look out the window of a room that high was when a then boyfriend had come to visit in the springtime– we’d checked into a hotel in times square, and then he told me that this was a special hotel for him because he’d had a moment here with an ex girlfriend. some things, like many other things, one just doesn’t need to hear. the other more recent time that comes to mind was the weekend of my last birthday, and i was briefly happy and prancing around the hotel room, while he ironed his work clothes. i stopped to look out the window (there wasn’t much to see) but he came up from behind to hold me. these burst of moments are short but so splendid.
then, there is also the 17 year old me, in a spaceship that hovers above the glittering city of kuala lumpur. look at the view, i had said, and he had wrapped his arms around my waist in a sudden move that felt so out of place and strangely unfitting. how many times has this happened, i had wondered curiously, but pessimistically. and then, the 18 year old me, in the month of march, in the mid levels of hong kong — i was sitting on a window ledge that would come to be so familiar in the future. we sat and talked as i peered tentatively down at the vast expanse of mad skyscrapers spread across the horizon. we listened to the most ubiquitous sound in hong kong — the ticking sound of the traffic lights — and giggled like children. that’s how it started.
and so, now, i hate windows and the views from high above. it’s more of a scared, frightened aversion than anything else. i was going to end this post by saying that i feel like just dropping everything and running away to somewhere foreign and new for some time — perhaps the street corners of suburban Seoul, where houses are small and rest above a fruit shop, or the whirling sidewalks of Kaohsiung, or even a dorm room in the aloof land of Tokyo, where i might meet Watanabe, and disrupt his life. but that’s my problem. i am an escapist. always trying to run. do i run to be found? have i been found? is this the very last time that i will be lucky?
Entry Filed under: Musings
28 Comments Add your own
1. Patricia | February 26th, 2010 at 3:23 am
high window views has always tugged my mind with nostalgia. childhood. when i had to hold my mum’s hand to look down just so i wont “fall”. since being a teen, i’ve stopped doing that. i walk past those windows because there’s no time to stop and look. sheesh, such is life of a half-adult.
2. F | February 26th, 2010 at 3:37 am
there’s a certain kind of poetry in escapism… there’s time yet for searching and to be found. be well :)
3. Michelle Chin | February 26th, 2010 at 5:06 am
while you dislike the view from windows, i always yearn to have a window. i lived in a hostel where there is no windows. it is akin to living in a jailhouse. i am confined. and like you, i want to escape but, i want to go to somewhere i can breathe, have fresh air. i have found a place with windows now but then again, we never can have enough, can we?
4. Jin Rui | February 26th, 2010 at 7:07 am
you have a lot of soul :)
5. Ee Vonn | February 26th, 2010 at 7:44 am
like the commenter above said: you really have a lot of soul! :) I really like to read this post because I also have the same feeling as you (similar happenings to me recently)!
6. kreazi | February 26th, 2010 at 10:20 am
OMG Su Ann, you don’t know just how much I love to be held/hugged from behind!!! There is something just so very romantic about the simple deed and it never failed to melt my heart!
7. jun | February 26th, 2010 at 10:21 am
how can you be possible to keep write something that is so rich and beautiful yet melancholy in a way.
i envy you for the way you can express yourself through words. indeed you are talented.
8. KY | February 26th, 2010 at 3:55 pm
that was just a very off comment mentioning the place special to him. :S
9. dav | February 26th, 2010 at 3:55 pm
Dear Su Ann,
You don’t really hate the window view, it only that you live in the past. And believe me you won’t found yourself in any corner of the world whether is Seoul, Tokyo or Kaohsiung cos as you said that you’re running away…… You are still the old and the new Su Ann will still be the same cos you are yourself indeed.
Perhaps try to think it the other way. Sometimes I kinda miss those days when we are still kids whether dare to mimic supermen, height was nothing but to venture the world and to save the world.
Stop trying to live in the past and you should live and enjoy the moment, the very current moment… but yet to say that you had the love by the window view. it was indeed a beautiful thing to be remembered at least….
” The higher you climb, the deeper you drop but you’ve seen the world where other people not able to see”
Shaka,
color of life@ dav
10. joisle | February 26th, 2010 at 6:10 pm
I can totally relate to the desire to escape. I am one such person myself. I have done the breakup getaway to a whole new city on my own for a few days. Sometimes I think I’m just being dramatic, and I can foresee myself actually moving to a new place for months if the shattered relationship was serious enough at the start. But I reckon I should start taking it like a grown up and face it all head on. I can’t keep running and let little nostalgic moments haunt me really. I’m still learning to recognize these moments as sweet and precious but they are in the past. I can only take on the present and be hopeful about it.
11. the stranger w/ da black umbrella | February 26th, 2010 at 6:23 pm
suga and lemon juice make a nice cup of lemonade. enjoy the days (and eat some soup dumplings while it lasts) cuz work’s a bitch… so is mta.
12. bernard | February 27th, 2010 at 2:44 am
beautiful picture though.
13. teoh | February 27th, 2010 at 3:09 am
sooner or later you will found another kind of pretty views from the very same window, and you will giggle and laugh while thinking of the past .
14. Lily | February 27th, 2010 at 11:34 pm
Awwww….i like hugs from behind too. And the view from Times Square should be breathtaking. But perhaps different landscapes will help you change your mind about window views?
15. P | February 28th, 2010 at 1:13 am
you have such a romantic soul… and luckily for us, you’re able to translate that into words so we too, can have a glimpse of your magical world.
16. melissa | February 28th, 2010 at 2:03 pm
snow > hail storms.
17. The Dawg. | February 28th, 2010 at 2:52 pm
As age settles in, we gradually shift from wanting to run away.. to wishing for certain moments to last forever.
One also begins to believe that all the pieces have to fall in place for things to work, but you’re only one piece out of 10 and life doesn’t come with a guarantee of a happy ending
Though in the case of a soul like yours.. capable of injecting so much life and color into an otherwise mundane world.. I truly hope that at some point, all the pieces fall in perfectly and you find your happy. If there’s ever a list of people that deserve to find it – my opinion is that you should be on the very first page.
But I digress. I think you’ll be fine quaintly. You’ll be able to handle whatever life throws at you. Look out those windows.. and rather than worry, try to take in the view.
18. quaintly | March 1st, 2010 at 12:04 am
patricia : that’s a realization better discovered late than never :)
F : but there’s not enough time to escape everywhere!
michelle : a dorm with no windows? but how strange it must look from the outside…
jin rui : which oftentimes becomes burdensome.. but thank you :) soul is important to me
ee vonn : well i hope you’re dealing with it a lot better than i am!
kreazi : ahhhh me too ;_____; is it not the best feeling in the world
jun : you overpraise me!
KY : yeah, you men la :)
dav : wow thank you for telling me what i apparently really think and feel. couldn’t have done it without you
joisle : facing life as an adult is the reasonable thing to do, i think. but dont forget to live your life like a movie (or a book) once in a while .. :)
stranger : indeed. this past weekend the downtown 1 train skipped my stop for three days
bernard : tis the view from my living room window :)
teoh : i happily await that day
lily : hopefully! the view of times square wasnt all that breathtaking though
P : new york has lots of magic. :)
melissa : agreed
the dawg : thank you. you are so kind. worrying has always been a bad habit of mine. and i hope you find your happy too :)
19. carol | March 1st, 2010 at 12:13 am
i love windows, balconies and window seats. I think looking out gives me a strange sort of tranquility, a kind of escape in itself i suppose.
did you know it took me like three reads to realize you were being sarcastic in one of your replies above? aaaaaahaha such is this friend of yours, a little, how do we call it? slow.
20. Tey Cindy | March 1st, 2010 at 2:33 am
perhaps u r finding something instead of being found? hmm…
21. ront | March 1st, 2010 at 4:10 am
watanabe? ken?
22. quaintly | March 1st, 2010 at 4:46 am
carol: hehe i did consider toning down the subtlety
cindy: i think you are exactly right
ront: no, toru
23. nyrac | March 1st, 2010 at 10:46 am
sigh. hugs from behind. spooning. all the little memories from the past. we might move on, but we never really forget.
24. Jules | March 1st, 2010 at 11:50 am
I’ve got the same problem as you, except with music. Which can make listening to songs I really used to like annoying.
Funny how sometimes memories entrench themselves. Those MIB mind wipe things could be pretty handy I reckon.
25. carol | March 1st, 2010 at 3:41 pm
my only “watanabe” name association was junya watanabe.
says a lot about the stuff i love. hahaha.
you were subtle alright wtf.
26. quaintly | March 2nd, 2010 at 5:51 am
nyrac: true that. which can be both good and bad
jules: if those mindwipes did exist, i’d have a dilemma. i’m so fickle that 5 years down the road i’d be pretty pissed off that i had so foolishly decided to wipe my memories. how eternal sunshine
carol : ^___^
27. Jules | March 2nd, 2010 at 9:57 am
LoL! Although I think part of having mindwipes is so you don’t actually remember the mindwipe – hence not actually getting pissed off about getting one. Wow…that was confusing.
28. Michelle Chin | March 2nd, 2010 at 4:06 pm
Strange indeed. That’s why the government came. It was not safe to live in.
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