i am back....but am i back?

back behind my old desk, in this sweltering heat and bright scorching sky once more.

am a little sleepy and a little tired, but all for the better.

going to london, or rather the united kingdom, has always brought to me a feeling of returning home. to my favourite gloomy skies and warm cuppa teas, to romantic backdrops and rich histories, to cooling weather and do as i please.

i know i'm going to miss looking out of the window on a cold morning, with a hot cup of pg tips in my hands. walking in the cool refreshing air, getting more legwork done in a day than i do here in a month. running for trains, figuring out the shortest route for the tube, stuffing sandwiches with walker crisps, watching green trees sway outside the windows and the fields of yellow fly past train windows. catching up with dear old friends, separated only by physical distance. perhaps what i loved the most was their endless choices of theatres. i caught phantom of the opera and fell in love with it immediately, despite the fact that i was sitting so high up in the balcony i risked nose bleed, or the sight of the ceiling so near to my reach frightening the pants of my shaking legs. i only wish i could have the time to catch more of their rich, beautiful, exciting plays. how about les miserables? or sounds of music? lord of the rings, chicago, the lion king, wicked, we will rock you? mamma mia? next time. i don't know why i never went to a play in london, despite the many years i was there, or the many visits i have made. somehow, it's different, going to one here. seeing the lady sitted in front lean forward throughout the entire play, to catch a better view of the stage, in anticipation, in excitement, it was fuel enough for my own. to see the faces of contentment and listen to the claps of appreciation, it was what going to a theatre should be, not rude whispers or ringing handphones. not blatant apathy and cool disregard.

not everything was perfect though. i can't stand the disgusting tap water, nor the endless arrays of sandwiches for breakfast, lunch and dinner, their western equivalent of long grain rice in the local supermarkets barely make the cut as our unpolished rice, and if i see one more fish and chips, i will simply scream. but still, i like london. london is so ..... me.

now, sitting behind my desk, that brief chapter of my life seems so long ago, like a different time, a different person altogether, so foreign and detached from this that i know. i didn't even get a chance to sit in hyde park and simply bask in the cool breeze. i didn't get a chance to revisit familiar places. i didn't get a chance to visit wales, ireland or scotland. i didn't get a chance to stay in the many cottages surrounding the lake district. there are so many things i didn't get to do. next time. but how long before i can summon the courage to sit cramped in that tiny seat for 13 hours?