November greeted me with filtered photos reminiscent of the desperate graffiti-laced alleys of darker Hong Kong and an air of suspense emanating from its various attempts to accomplish some form of abstruse symmetry with splats of paint. Late night strolls in Kuching tell a different story, but those alone bring me back to the depths of Tsim Sha Shui, staring beyond its pensive night lights into its very soul, figuring out the secrets that lie within its walls despite being a brief acquaintance. But enough of my wistful tendencies stemming from wanderlust, which I feel more often than I would like to admit, the past couple of weeks have been an absolute blur. While most people would attempt to fight what seems to be the beginning of a descent into a caffeine-induced state of vigilance eventually culminating into the coffee person, some of us have digestive systems which are simply deprived of (or rather, bestowed with because yay great for my kidneys) the ability to react to caffeine to keep us awake. This means that while most people flurry the night away booming with productivity, with sleep as a deficient factor aided by caffeine, my immunity towards caffeine results in a less sharper me in the mornings, with such huge sausages underneath my eyes that I now begin to comprehend the necessity of inserting an emergency concealer into my bag daily. Otherwise, my neural system is discernibly slowed down as it takes slightly longer than usual for my auditory perception to transmit something to my brain for interpretation and the memo intended for the rest of my body seems to arrive much later or occasionally, when it is irrelevant. Frisbee days are when this is visibly dangerous as I barely evade the onslaughts of tosses from all ends.

I am also currently juggling eighteen to twenty books at a time, all of which I am uncertain as to which point in time I will finish, a consequence of a bad habit I have unrealisingly developed as I entered college, where I would often jump from one imaginarium to another without any form of attachment as my attempts to pull myself away from the real world have time and time again, failed miserably. I would read one chapter of a book then jump to a new book, return to the second chapter of the former book only to jump back to the temporarily abandoned page of the latter, rinse and repeat with books three to eighteen or twenty and this is seemingly one vicious unending cycle. Also, the erratic weather lately is perhaps a personification of my current reading habits. Unfortunately, this does not bode well for the shift in my daily regime. I have always been a rainy day person, ardently staring at the windows on such days despite my occasional frustration when it rains in the evenings, interfering with my planned runs to liberate the unease of the day (one issue in particular is really plaguing me at the moment and I can’t quite seem to brush it off). Ironic isn’t it? Rain both liberates and interferes with my other plans of the same nature. It has currently shifted to the latter as I slowly incorporate frisbee into my life and playing frisbee in the rain, albeit refreshing having the raindrops stream down your face, proves to be an annoyance when you can’t get a proper grip on the disc.

Currently in persistent denial that the year jumped from January right to November and taking self-comfort in the fact that Christmas is almost here! If there’s any consolation for every year, Christmas will always remain at the top of my list, along with my annual tradition of taking inappropriate shots of Christmas baubles.