The morning after.

I am back in my room in KL.

The past few days have been a crazy whoosh. It's one of those periods of time when things move so quickly, it's like you're in a corridor with a slippery floor and someone gives you a push and you slide, frictionless, bouncing from one wall to the other in a zigzag fashion. Sometimes you note the wallpaper and a painting or two or bump your knee against the teak furniture (of course it has to be teak!), but you never really have time to reflect upon what actually happened, because everything's just too fast-moving and you don't have time to grab onto a rail that doesn't exist anyway to stop all the movement.

The crazy sliding has stopped. I hang onto a door knob or something, dazed, sleep-deprived, unsure whether I prefer motion or stillness. I remember Asa, LL, Woei, YJ, Silver, my primary school friends. I remember a dinner, a failed attempt to watch some Yasmin Ahmad movies, a visit to the Islamic Art Museum, sleeping on a really comfortable bed in Malacca. I remember being early for my bus, Silver missing his, forgetting my (new) hand phone and getting it back, awkward social situations, sleeping. Waking up very reluctantly. Sleeping. Waking up even more reluctantly. Sleeping. Don't. Want. To. Wake. Up.

I just got a paper cut on my middle toe. I shall not furnish you with the details.

I should go to bed, I really should. Did I mention I really need sleep?

//I fell asleep promptly after the last line, although I'm sure I had some thought-provoking sentiments about sleep deprivation to share. But here's posting it in the morning after.