Walking solitude

I picked up Sylvia Plath’s novel, “The Bell Jar” a few weeks ago. It got truly downright depressing after awhile and so I stopped reading halfway. Now that I’ve started again, I got reminded of why I stopped in the first place. No wonder Plath blew herself up in an oven. I probably would have to.

Today I walked for about an hour and a half, going wherever my legs take me. Walked from IMM to JE library, then to Chinese Garden and then all the way home. I ploughed on and on. I don’t think I was aimless. I just wanted to walk. I felt compelled to lie to Farah, texting her that I’ve reached home. I don’t know why. I felt like lying, I suppose. Makes no sense. If you’re reading this, I’m sorry Farah :(

I hate breathing in exhaust fumes. But it’s Singapore, after all. Thoughts get polluted (literally) and there’s nothing much one can do about it. Walking felt fantastic, regardless. One day, I’ll walk to China.

Doubt much studying/reading got done today. Jane Austen, i wish you could be more straight forward in your presentation of characters and ideas. I am terrible at reading into things, honestly. Not like you care, i suppose.

Oh lookee here, i've begun writing letters to people long dead.