I laugh looking backwards at my lovely first summer frolick. Everything is still a beautiful learning process (as of yet) and the idea of relocation hasn't had any real time to hit me other than spurring me into a Daiso Rage and officiating me into the elite Art Friend Membership.
London now seems to me like a pleasant dream that fails to relive itself in here, except when in art; and thinking of it at this moment shocks me. Because it seems as if my journey has found a possible end in itself and I have managed to connect the dots without drawing an immense squiggly of all the stars in the sky and knighting it 'Blurb', a singular horoscope that looks like a terrible signature at its best.
I may not be able to pull off a Yoko Ono and possibly never will but I feel momentums and rhythms shifting in the artosphere and i look forward to it with more fervour than I do Singapore food; which i should add is possibly my most overhyped reason for my return. Honestly, healthy brit food lifestyles has left me wanting. Tama I want to munch on spinach and tomatoes again without looking like an idiot!
Tomorrow I go to school, yeeps.
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