A Sunday In KL

I thought to stay in today but found sitting around doing nothing unbearable, so I got in my car and drove around, windows down.

How beautiful and quiet my KL is at 8am on Sunday. It is almost a different city - the lack of traffic, the cool mist still clinging to the air, blanketing KL; a city subdued, a city only just waking. The breeze fresh, cool on my face, I drove down streets so frequently travelled, past buildings filled with memories, past landmarks changed, past sites of buildings which no longer exist. How I love this city, so attached am I to it that I don't believe I shall ever leave. No matter how far I travel, this is the place I will return to.

I went to Lake Gardens where I sat and read my book in the cool morning with the sun shining down on me, caressing my skin.

I went to the National Art Gallery, where I wandered and lost myself in the quiet of its halls, for a few hours severed from the tiresome world outside.

I watched "Phantom of the Opera".

I went to eat assam laksa at one of my favourite shops.

I went ice skating. I love the sense of freedom, the almost-weightlessness of frictionless gliding across the indifferent ice.

I went to the small park I used to frequent as a student, read a bit more and chucked McDonald's fries at the squirrel that was there, in all probability the very same one who used to tease me and keep me company when I did the exact same things as a student. It once swindled me out of almost half a box of fries. The critter cutely scampered back and forth, grabbing the fries I chucked its way and stuffing it in its cheeks before sitting on its haunches and giving me a curious look until before I knew it, I sat with a much diminished box of chips. I often brought a packet of Ngan Yin for it if I knew I was going to the park. It once showed me where it lived.

I spent two hours sitting on the floors of Kinokuniya, browsing through book after beautiful book at random.

Then I went to Chocz and people-watched while I sipped on an Aztec.

And when I finally came home, I baked a lovely cheesecake for my neighbour's birthday tomorrow and my grandmother's pineapple tarts enough to feed a horde.

Then I sat under the stars in the garden, lit a few citronella candles and played my guitar.

It was nice, doing the things I love most, the things that make me forget my troubles for the moment, the things that bring me a measure of peace, even if only for a short while.

I spent the day in my own company. Like I said, it was a nice day, I enjoyed it, but I wish I had someone to share today with. Nobody I know would have enjoyed the day so with me, and I wish there was.