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I write verbose posts about polyamory, love, lust, and self-discovery on my other blog Victoria's Imaginarium.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Goodbye, A2-23

My life at INTI International University has ended. Currently, I am rotting at home waiting for these 3 months to pass, and soon I'll be printing my footsteps on the land of America.

Right now I'm in my room at home, which is
a. bigger;
b. cleaner (mum sweeps the floor everyday);
c. tidier (it's big enough to appear tidy even though my luggages and clothes are on the floor);
d. fresher (I have boxes of pandan leaves and charcoal in my room); and
e. more lovely (Notty the cat always walks in and sleeps on my blanket).

Nevertheless I miss A2-23, which is
a. more private (no sudden intruders);
b. more lively (my floor-mates were never quiet...);
c. dirtier (the floor was carpeted with my hair most of the time);
d. colder (no worries about the electricity bills):
e. messier, as shown in the pictures below.

This lovely black-and-white pair of slippers were STOLEN. Second time. What kind of person steals slippers in dorm abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.

Okay I think it was not messy after all. It was only messy during the exam week, in all kinds of creative ways...

Well the umbrella was to prevent too much light from reaching the smooth pages and be reflected to irritate my eyes. You know, marathon studying without sufficient sleep. Eye protection is important.

It's only the 2nd week after I bid farewell to A2-23 and I already miss those days which I could sleep and wake up anytime I want, camwhore like nobody's business, skype and talk on phone without restrain, laugh and cry like crazy woman. I think the absence of Notty was the only thing A2-23 lost to my home-room, the rest were beyond bearable.

I broke a small bottle of nail-polish remover the day I moved all my belongings out from A2-23. The acetone evaporated within 1 minute, left behind the pieces of glass on the floor. I was frozen for few minutes, struck by emotions perhaps. As if there was a strong wind blowing, flipping all the pages of my INTI memory book...

And when I saw those precious moments in that room, I almost burst out in tears.

But I didn't.

"You are human. Your memory is no more than a sieve. Time heals all wounds for your kind." --Edward Cullen

If the walls have got eyes and ears, will they cry witnessing people stay in, grow up and leave?

Goodbye A2-23.


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