My humble abode has a small kitchen, sala and T&B and a bedroom that shares my indoor “sampayan” facelifted with walls clad on textured paper and white hue ceiling. The fenestration facing south gives me sunshine to light and warm me in the morning and offers a good reading on what today’s weather. My neighbors are 2 to 3 storey high clustered houses with terracotta tiles or slab concrete roofing which gave me an ambience that I residing a foreign but still oriental realm.
Usually in the morning and early evening sometimes I can hear one of my neighbor playing his violin and one familiar tune he/she plays is Korsakov’s The Flight of the Bumblebee whilst another middle age neighbor squeezing his self for spot in the corridor to practice writing calligraphy in the morning. But no my place is not an artists’ haven, nighttime I would regularly greeted by men filing rubbish to recycle for profit on the ground. I have been staying here for five months already and feel ok and at home even I have only two English channels on my tube to keep me updated on news and things outside. Censored nga lang.
During midnight when the city of
It’s time to sleep and to dream again. Out!