north-american possums! work fatigue grouses; singaporean; ex-poet and writer; former convent girl; converted, convicted and painfully quiet; bibliophilic; skyscrapers; weather-talk; dining alone on sashimi; your life with Jesus; banging heads with problems; looking from afar; loving my xiongmao; peanuts & anchovies; battlestar galatica; novella dreams and paranoai: holding onto you.

May 2002
June 2002
July 2002
August 2002
September 2002
October 2002
November 2002
December 2002
January 2003
February 2003
March 2003
April 2003
May 2003
July 2003
August 2003
September 2003
October 2003
November 2003
December 2003
January 2004
February 2004
March 2004
April 2004
May 2004
June 2004
July 2004
August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
September 2007

Tuesday, February 11, 2003

typing away my fourth journal entry for my Literature ISM in AS7. and when i stepped out to print my notes, the smell of the corridor reminded me of what was once the tower books but now a furniture shop, in pacific plaza. it smelled exactly like that. a bit like clothes not washed for a week, the same smell of body odours .. perhaps of someone you love which makes it more than bearable. i don't know why but i'm quite addicted to smells. and this is one smell that is worth more than the bringing back of memories, idling in the first bookstore in Singapore that held the most titles of magazines and alternative ones of movies, books etc. before the mayhem of borders and kinokuniya... i love going there on rainy days in the afternoon. it seemed always the perfect time to drop by, with hardly anyone around... get a corner and a book and read... that was my teenage years and when shops come and go, places change and fashion fads remain as torrid as ever, you know it's time to move on but only on the sides now. Now the kids are wearing the things you'll be if you were their age, wondering and chasing after fads you know if you were their age, you'll be doing the same things to some degree at least... Still, you have to move on now.

but this smell is not just comforting. comforting can get quite boring afterawhile. it is what i still like. it is a present like. it is something that strikes my neurons in the same patterns again and again. hehe. wAT a feTISh...

posted by happyhannon at 2:30 PM