Yung & Easily Freudened

I was on my way to class in Aljunied all the way from Sengkang, and it was getting dark out. I got off at a neighbourhood that looked like the Merpati

Road neighbourhood; it had block 121 and the mama shop and everything. But it wasn’t somehow. I walked and walked, concentric circles in chaos, tracing

circuits through the same landscapes of manufactured apartment blocks.

The sheer improbability of getting anywhere was scary and uncountable, and again I am struck by how small I am among landscapes of the vast.

Horizons and hills are pretty enough to distract, but these stone-cold homes don’t let me forget. HDB estates look the same, but the parallel stones, the dripping

cloth squares, the way the streets glowed …was all awry. Like when you make copies of copies with sprinklings of photocopy dust, electricity running askew of

revolutions of light. Dizzy spinning circles became oblong and I grew MAD, really mad! at the uh, maybe useless answers I got from men with ice-creams and

children with cigarettes. I couldn’t get out, how could they not know, wasn’t it so convenient that they didn’t, where the fuck was I, it was getting incredibly late

and unprofessional and careless and I fail again. Again these same faces again the same cars on mortgages again the carpark blinding again I walk towards a

moving vehicle whose blue beacon brings a swell inside me. Its motor is running water, and I run toward it like a fish to my sea, throw open its doors, mutter a

destination, and collapse into the embryonic dark, piqued my yellows, blues & metre reds echoing behind closing eyelids.

(I love taxis.)