I just arrived home after three days in Melbourne helping S & S move, inhaling the wonderful fumes of the city and having some restless sleeps. My mind is not at its clearest. But then, it has always been foggy.

Located on a central location in the city, the apartment where S & S moved into has a lovely night view of the city though mostly are of well-lit buildings. I’ve forgotten how beautiful a city can look at night (despite the light pollution). The house-moving was rather smooth which only took less than half a day. The following days involved unpacking, fixing and tidying stuff. We even managed a trip to Ikea, four hours of shopping at the DFO, dinner at a Korean BBQ restaurant and brunch with my aunts. I even took a quick trip to the Borders bookstore.

Walking back alone from the bookstore to the apartment, I noticed how I still love the city’s rhythm. Being the anonymous face in the crowd (because Asian faces are not rare in the city), moving from traffic lights to traffic lights, glancing at stranger faces without fear of being glared back.

One thing about the city though. When you blend in too well with the crowd, you become indistinguishable. You start wearing the same clothes as your fellow office warriors. The city is coloured by the unofficial uniform of black, white and gray. You might even find your identical twin blouse on the street. Even your suits greet each other in familiarity.

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Differing slightly, I taunted a poor soul on the Connex train today when I went onboard sniffing and sneezing. Sat facing two rows away from me, she expressed her displeasure of my condition by wrapping her scarf around her nose and mouth. Noticing her not-so-subtle reaction, I pretended to look outside the train’s window and leaned my body slightly forward. She reacted in paranoia with a sudden shifting of her body towards the side away from me, stood up and walked to the next carriage. The most ironic of all is, it wasn’t even a cold. It was a combined allergic reaction from the city’s dust, fumes and cigarette smokes. I’ve been using the inhaler more than I needed to. But I don’t mind playing evil on people who assume too much. Having said that, I cannot believe how the city air can make me sick, considering I was born into a city reeked with car fumes and construction dust. Perhaps it’s a sign that I’m not longer a city dweller. Or that the sign of age is showing through the well-being of my body.

PS: Will update this post with photos tomorrow.
PPS: I’m using an on-loan monitor so all is well at the moment.