Before I know it, I was once again travelling alone. I could definitely get used to this inital novelty of solitude. Soon, I touched down at Heathrow. Not long after, my body took on a mechanism that seemed unfamiliar to me, as it went about getting on a NatEx bus to Coventry, hailing a cab to campus, and opening the front door of my flat. I was startled by the ease with which I went about this journey. The familiarity with which my hand reached into my pocket for the key, slot it in and turned the door of my flat seemed all too simple, considering how Warwick has only been my home for 3 months.
But those 3 months was a time where I built the experience myself; my room here in Warwick seems more familiar and comforting than my room back in Singapore. Strange. Mega-wierd (I quote Yong out of context). And after all the flurry of activities and hordes of people back home, the solitude on campus before term started was welcoming. I can go about my daily tasks with a quietness that provided me space for reflection and contemplation. As life slowly creeps back into campus, I'm already looking forward to the next time I will enjoy such warming solitude.
Time is such a buoyant concept, floating on an entity that is seemingly unfathomable to me other than mathematically. Technically an hour is very long, a month even longer, more so a year. But it all seems to fly by so quickly, and clarity of memory sometimes undermines the technical length of time.
As I watched a finch sitting on the bush outside my window, I felt that pregnant wait for school to reopen, exciting if I can muster up courage to take on the challenges that lie ahead, dreadful if I'm to allow the schedules to wash me by. I decide.
And to the rest, here's to a life lived to the full.
Uncle T
