After the ensuing madness of online air-ticket buying fiasco, I finally purchased a seat for August 30th to Portland from Singapore before rushing off to school for my 10 minute appointment with Dr Yew about a topic that I hadn’t thought of yet. A visit with the doctor with a huge metal syringe full of water injected into my ear later, I started feeling giddy and my words sometimes came out incoherent. I left school at 4pm and by the time I got home, I couldnt fight off the nausea. Missing Patrick’s phonecall 2 minutes after really didn’t help either and I felt my forehead getting warmer. I am beginning to think that I am allergic to school, nausea and all kinds of maladie flower within me at the end of every school day. Perhaps the daily routine of classes, of videos proudly marketing the guilt of consumerism of wanton life, of fingernails clicking away distractedly on silver keyboards conceal the anguish of missing him. As we sit in air-conditioned classes contemplating the grave consequences of poverty, I guilt uncomfortably while my thoughts are fixated on what to get for lunch. I fight a moral battle every lesson and this is taking its toll on me. Before school started, I persuaded myself to think that the absence of intellectual stimulation from academia was a disease slowly eating me from inside. Then school finally began and my sad little excuse for misery fell apart. Now I have nothing to hide behind and I have only my own mortality to face up to. Perhaps not knowing what the problem is but spinning a lyrical yarn can absorb some of the pain. Perhaps the search for the right words pithy of this sense of hollow melancholia can create a poetic something. I keep telling myself that I won’t be here for much longer and someday perhaps I’ll be forced to eat up my words, oh the girl who always said she’ll never miss Singapore, with a bitter dose of nostalgia. I refuse to write I miss Patrick because it sounds so trite and whiny. And with the same pride, I refuse to say it out loud to anyone, or even to myself because I don’t want to listen to these hopeless, hollow words.
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