Today marks the final week of May. Flowers blooming in the north, people counting down days when they can finally be on their way home and have roti canai that doesn't cost pounds. Snow was falling in New Zealand last night, and the rest of the south hemisphere prepping for shorter days and longer nights.
And I can't wait.
I can't wait for people to come back, after 3 full seasons, with stories (and snacks from parts of the world). I can't wait to fulfill all the promises made through Skype calls and random Whatsapp chats. I can't wait to board on my flight to Melbourne, and explore a city that's more Malaysian than any other city you can find, but yet so Australian at the same time. I can't wait to feel the excitement of waking up in an unfamiliar room, the floor tiles too cold to be stepped on with my entire sole, and having cheap, good bread with Chobani yoghurt that for once, isn't overpriced.
Despite looking forward to August, I've been going through quite a lot of discovery lately. Things I've always overlooked, or maybe too timid to try, sides of myself that was never explored. And I guess I'm just amazed of the thrill fresh experiences and discoveries can bring me. At least I've got a glimpse of what 'just do it' really means, the art of going with your heart and desires without giving much thought (or obsession) over what other people might think, or what they might say about me. I've come to realise that giving someone the power to affect your performance or your entire personality isn't trust, or love or anything great. It's quite dumb, because nobody is obligated to stand by you through it all.
If to love is to be vulnerable, then what's so great about it? Getting hurt and screwed over because of one's persistence isn't glorious. It's like touching a fence that has a sign written 'caution' with a skull below it and getting electrocuted after that. You'll only be criticised for your stupidity, not glorified for your bravery.
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