After a long hiatus, which really was no hiatus at all, I have returned to my hobby of writing. Only this time, I feel I need to explain the goings on in my head. I have come to the point where I do actually believe the world is coming to an end.
What proof do I actually have that the world is about expire along with all other corporeal entities on it? First of all, the natural disasters and their repercussions are increasing in their severity and intensity. Secondly, there are diseases out there stealing away the lives of our young and the current health care provisions are, quite simply put, shit. Then there is the issue of infertile women and impotent men – I have been checking my spam box, and there is a tonne of mail selling male performance enhancers. What happened to the classic boner?
Following that appalling bit of information, the one true reason I am convinced that the world is about to stop spinning is, well, I still can’t whistle. I have practised fruitlessly all my life, but to no avail. Also, I am the world’s most isolated city, Perth. In Australia...If I could describe the entire city in one word, the only adjective that come to mind is “Bleh”. Yes. “Bleh”. The world is coming to an end. I’m sure of it.
Having gone from Kuala Lumpur to Moscow to Melbourne then back to Kuala Lumpur and Kuching, Perth really does seem like a step down as far as “city-living” goes. Slow paced, smiley and relatively safe, it’s exactly the kind of place Grammy and Grampaw would enjoy. Kuching was also a slow paced town, but I was fully equipped (I had a car to drive around – too easy, and I had a swanky apartment, which then turned into a swanky house) Now I live with an old lady and her cat. Yes. Her cat. She’s got diabetes and arthritis, requires insulin twice daily. Yes. I was talking about her cat. My landlady is wonderful, actually. Also in the house is a sophomoric 22 year-old from Hong Kong. Also wonderful.
Something is missing, and it’s not just the fact that I miss Hamster Wong terribly. I miss having my own kitchen, I miss having my own car and the freedom (financial, temporal and spatial). I also miss smoking terribly. Having to quit, but not quite totally, has been incredibly hard for me. I had been smoking for ten years. It was truly time to give it up. Shyly, I also miss being a doctor. I am very proud of what I’m about to become, but one can never really let go of the feeling of a ward full of patients.
I have started a seemingly fancy course at a seemingly fancy university, but like many other places, it’s all a farce. No university is as amazing as they claim to be, no student is as brilliant and happy as pictured in the glossy brochures. I am now a full time student. I do love it, I must admit. I miss my friends from Russia. You people are the ones I miss most. I suddenly appreciate my old housemate even more than I ever did, I miss my friends from senior years who always had time for me, who always had fun with me, I miss Moscow more than anything in the world and would give just about anything to go back.
I miss the painfully cold winters, the lightning speed internet, the fast-paced throbbing of a city that never sleeps, never rests and almost never leaves one bored. I was recently told that I was too forgiving, and that while I was in Russia I was incredibly unhappy. I don’t remember being unhappy. I remember life being hard and I remember relishing it. I must have complained and sought sympathy a lot more than I thought I had. Oh well. Moscow, you will be missed eternally - even after the world comes to an end.
Expect new articles and stories from me soon. I wish I had the time to write so much more. I’ve truly missed it. Cheers for the end of the world. Perhaps we'll all get cancer before we go, just because it could happen. Bite me.
