Friday, December 24

Missing life

There are many things that I miss. I miss my flat, well-toned stomach. I miss playing basketball. I miss going to warehouse sales scouring for excellent bargains. I miss not spending too much time in front of my laptop. I miss reading my books, and rereading some of them, especially about Anne. I miss catching up on my sleep. I miss waking up at noon, and lying in bed for the whole day on Sundays. I miss working out late at the gym and being complimented by gay men in the locker room. I miss driving my old green car, a lot.

I miss hanging out with my friends, talking about sports and girls. I miss Dorai and his soups, with the warmth of friends. I miss pouring out my soul and listening to wounded souls. I miss plucking the guitar, and playing a song that melts my heart. I miss the deep sea, and the creatures inhabiting it. I miss watching cartoons on Saturday mornings. I miss driving two hours to be with someone and have crazy sex all night long, a lot.

I miss the thrill of winning, and losing. I miss watching the stars at night and thinking about absolutely nothing. I miss being close to God. I miss my old room with the nice comfy bed in JB. I miss my stash of porn, well-hidden under that comfy bed. I miss opening the fridge to find some snacks to munch while watching Grey's. I miss my old orange cat, Rimau Taring, a lot.

I miss catching a plane to another country with no plans beforehand. I miss sleeping in cheap inns and eating lousy food. I miss admiring the pretty and cute girls at the train and bus stations. I miss bargaining for cheap handicraft products, and flirting with the salesgirl. I miss getting seasick and throwing up bits and chunks. I miss eating fresh cherries and apricots, a lot.

I miss blogging, and writing about things in my mind. I miss reading interesting blogs, blogs that inspire me to write even more. I miss watching Aerosmith's Crying, Amazing and Crazy music videos with a young Alicia in it. I miss the rush of the wind on my face while rollerblading downhill on St. Kilda Road. I miss walking down the pier at night, listening to the waves crashing down the rocks. I miss waiting for the mailman to deliver the letters from across the ocean. I miss watching Martina and Anna playing doubles at the Australian Open. I miss sitting under the tree at the park and writing my journal, a lot.

And I miss spending the day with you, eating jellies and doing absolutely nothing at all.