ur sleeping on the couch

cities and deep jungles

this is more of a journal entry, you can skip it.

the time i spent a year as a ghost is my most memorable year. i spent four weeks between singapore and bali, in a trance induced by the waves and the art and the fashion and the girls. the immaculate streets of singapore became the prettiest cage i'd been in, kept me away from where i was supposed to be.

this was the year i split into three; the girl back home, the girl infatuated with minimalist art and high end sloppy fashion, and the girl who lived in a motel and went to the beach every day.

i remember the two nights i realized i was slowly fading out. losing myself in places.

one; bali.
in that motel, my parents and i had separate rooms. in my room, there was a tv in front of the bed and a desk where the managers said i was supposed to eat and write. on my right, the wall was completely made up of windows. i peeked over. you could see the motel's pool, and the other rooms.
i remember when the first signs of the fading started.
my hair, which is now black, curly, and just reaches my throat, was used to constantly being straightened. to me, it was a part of who i was- my choppy auburn slightly wavy hair (because i could never straighten it well enough). i remember the day i looked in the mirror and realized i didn't really have to do my hair- A) i was going swimming and B) nobody here knew me. nobody here would look at me and say "oh, you look different." because none of them had ever seen me before, and better yet, they really didn't give a shit.

this little thing, me not caring about my hair anymore, took a huge weight off my shoulders (later on my hair would be cut off my shoulders- coincidence?) and i immediately felt lighter.

the next step, were my glasses.
i've worn glasses for about 5 years. i've never let anyone in public see me without them, i was super insecure about my face under the lenses.
so, when i had to take them off to go and properly enjoy the surf, i was supposed to be hesitating. i didn't, though. look at me, carelessly leaving bits of me in motel rooms and beachside benches.

at this point i'd come to terms that nobody knew me or cared about me in this place that i was, and i was ecstatic. because back home, what i'd done was all the rage.

our last night in bali, i sat on the beach and watched the sun paint the sky with purple, pink, orange, red and blue. completely enthralled, i thought of you. wanted you there with me.
that was the moment i realized nobody knew i was here. nobody from back home knew i was here, and i'd slipped their minds completely. i looked around, even my parents were too far off to know where i was. the only people around me couldn't see me, because i wasn't theirs to see. i looked at my fingertips and half expected them to be transparent and cold.

that was the first time i classified myself as a ghost. although at first is wasn't all that bad.

2; singapore.
in bali we'd taken a flight to singapore. our residence was a five star hotel placed on sentosa island, and from our hotel room we had the perfect view of the (fake) merlion. although, it was our second hotel in singapore; the first was in the city and on the day we landed we walked all the way to the (real) merlion and through almost everything we were supposed to do over a month. now, at sentosa, i remember adapting to a completely new style and way of thinking. because A) i had accidentally made one of my bestfriends believe i reciprocated her feelings for me, and because B) i was a week late into the school year.

now, when you're already scared nobody remembers you and you've managed to let yourself believe you're a ghost, finding out i missed out on the first week of school scared me.
i remember all the good parts of being a ghost being obliterated. now i remembered why ghosts turn into poltergeists.

i remember the taste of mango and strawberry popsicles, the rush of the bullet trains, the trams, the rides at universal studios. after experiencing all that, i remember feeling defiant. i may be a ghost, but singapore and bali will always be mine. my places, the place i left my body, the last places that saw me as i was. my heart, my real, beating heart, is scattered all over the cities and the islands and the art museums and the parks and the flowers. i was in love at the time, with a girl who was very very angry at me. i fell in love all over again- with the places this time. i fell in love with the beaches and the motels and the colors in bali and i fell in love with the streets and the glamour and the light in singapore. these places, after i'd had so much taken from me, were mine.

when we left, the feeling of being a ghost intensified. i learnt quickly that nobody knew my side to the issue i'd caused before i left in the first place, and everybody had assumed what my reasons were and went with them. i'd think back to singapore and bali, thinking to myself that i wish my body would come back to me. i wish i wasn't a ghost anymore. but as always, i reminded myself that if any place deserved your physical, non-ghost self, it would be singapore and bali.

later on in the school year, when i found out you were going to singapore on the school trip with all the girls that liked you, i wanted to scream. because it wasn't fair. it wasn't fair. why would you come after the place i called mine? i dismissed it, suppressed and pretended like it wasn't ripping my soul apart.

i knew you'd only remember singapore as the school trip with the girls you very obviously had crushes on. i remember screaming to my internet friend that for gods sake why does something so special to me get taken away so easily?

a year later, now when i think of singapore, it's still mine. that time i spent there is still mine. it's just now i have to think about you and her, too.