I sat staring up at the Twin Towers of Petronas last night with a couple of happy hour beers in my hand. I watched the crowd go by, most heading home after a day in the office, but many crossing the road to enter the KLCC Suria for a night of shopping, or at the movies. I’ve sat in that very place before watching the world go by, reminded that I was someplace different, though not so different as to be particularly foreign. I started that way last night before my mind drifted onto other matters, finally talking myself into being sad. Just for the hell of it.
I stayed on the other side of town. I watched a DVD, read, went to sleep. I dreamed all night. I never seem to stop dreaming these days. There is nothing particularly unusual or disturbing about my dreams, except for the fact they never seem to stop. I wake and I feel infected by them still. I don’t know what all this dream activity suggests, but I’d like some rest from it.
Somehow things had become decided in me overnight. I read, made some breakfast, did some cleaning. I packed my bag and left.
I have work to do, but I felt unmotivated. A part of me was still sad. I’d poke it into a corner of myself but would bring it out again just to be sure. I went out for lunch and had a heart to heart, long overdue, then headed back here. I still had work to do, and still didn’t do it. I wandered across the road to buy the fixings for roast chicken I’m cooking for dinner tonight, an activity I look forward too.
Over the weekend I have the place to myself. I’ll be taking it quietly, though I may head out. I feel a tad dispossessed right now – no real home when I’m in Oz, then shunted between addresses while I’m here. There are good reasons why that’s the case, and I’m not complaining – but for once I feel a little neglected. I say for once because it is not something that ever really occurs to me. In fact, ‘neglected’ seems to suggest some entitlement, and I certainly don’t feel entitled to anything. I’m human though, sometimes, and sometimes I get a little heart shy too. It will pass.
In any case, Fong is to the rescue. There was a flurry of SMS last night as people twigged that I was OS. One was Fong, who has gone to the trouble of contacting some of her friends here to look out for me. Fong can be a royal pain in the arse – and there’s a long line of harassed men happy to say you better believe it; but come the time you want someone in there fighting for you Fong would be one of the first picked. She’s one of those prickly, but very genuine people worth their weight in gold. I’m lucky to have her.
I’ll get out a little, I’ll do the work I promised, I’ll read a book or two and go for a swim, and try to convince myself that this is some semblance of normal life. Then next week Langkawi, which should be fun, but something I have to do more than desire doing. It’ll be great probably, but more evidence of what an absolutely skewiff life I’m leading right now. Whatever.