Wednesday, June 30, 2004
Trackback
Date: 21 Jun 2004
Venue: Some internet cafe
Hello world.
It has been more than a week since I've last used the internet. I don't miss it that much, contrary to popular belief and certainly to my own disbelief. The computer keyboard seems almost foreign to the touch, fingers less nimble - familiarity I'd left behind in someplace sunny.
Amid mixed blaring from Bhangra beats and a random Tamil song, what I find most hilarious has to be the rapidfire typing and frequent yahoo messenger alert sounds from an Indian-occupied next booth. [Insert private joke about Indian chatters]
Finally a quick update to all in the know, I am doing very well at 2,240m above sea level albeit with a persistent cough but otherwise fine. I love every moment of it and am used to being stared at, exhibit-like, wherever I go (no photo-taking at feeding times, please).
The longer I stay here, the more impossible I find it to adjust back to my previous lifestyle when it all comes to an end. I am missing out on so much if I remain cooped up in that sunny someplace. The world has so much to offer, I can't just turn my back on them. As thoughts become too breathtaking for me to digest, I better end here (reality check: the streets outside beckon), but not without first letting N know I so wish he could have been here taking all of this in with me.
Date: 21 Jun 2004
Venue: Some internet cafe
Hello world.
It has been more than a week since I've last used the internet. I don't miss it that much, contrary to popular belief and certainly to my own disbelief. The computer keyboard seems almost foreign to the touch, fingers less nimble - familiarity I'd left behind in someplace sunny.
Amid mixed blaring from Bhangra beats and a random Tamil song, what I find most hilarious has to be the rapidfire typing and frequent yahoo messenger alert sounds from an Indian-occupied next booth. [Insert private joke about Indian chatters]
Finally a quick update to all in the know, I am doing very well at 2,240m above sea level albeit with a persistent cough but otherwise fine. I love every moment of it and am used to being stared at, exhibit-like, wherever I go (no photo-taking at feeding times, please).
The longer I stay here, the more impossible I find it to adjust back to my previous lifestyle when it all comes to an end. I am missing out on so much if I remain cooped up in that sunny someplace. The world has so much to offer, I can't just turn my back on them. As thoughts become too breathtaking for me to digest, I better end here (reality check: the streets outside beckon), but not without first letting N know I so wish he could have been here taking all of this in with me.
