I spent the last few hours writing chinese characters and now I am seeing double. I swear, the price of learning chinese is ruined eyesight. A lot of frustration. Tearing out of hair. Random bursts of violent temper.
Someone went back to brazil and brought back a suitcase of havaianas, just as mine are dying. Thank the shoe-gods.
I find it hilarious and ironic that on the streets of beijing, you can buy bertrand russell’s history of western philosophy for less than five aussie dollars. For the price of a chocolate bar, you receive an entire compendium of knowledge, food for thought that will last you a lifetime. I think it’s a great deal. I am slowly, painstakingly plowing through it, pencil in hand. It’s been a long time.
I have all these words ripe inside me, dying to burst forth in a warm rush of blood and feeling but for some reason they don’t translate. I owe updates and phone calls and I miss hearing so many voices that I’m used to hearing. I miss the luxury of having the landscapes of our daily lives collide in a blur that makes no distinction between you and me. I miss hearing what has happened to you in the few hours between gloria jeans coffees or sushi from the goodlooking people in union house. I miss sharing nicotine and tar and secrets. I miss late nights at readings, walking back past the people eating pasta and drinking wine, wondering if I would ever feel as grown-up as they look.
Most of all, I miss the bits of me that are laying dormant here in beijing, waiting to leap forth again at the call of a malaysian accent or the glittering green of an abc shot.
And all of a sudden, I can’t wait for summer.
haha don’t worry. phuket is so ON. I’m now contemplating if i should ask for two days off instead of just the one.
now I know how Veronica feels when she says, ‘SUMMER is her favourite time of the year. Because that’s when the Aussies come home!’
hahha yeah except now im coming back from…china. wtf.