Lucky Amnesiac

I'm a pretty fortunate fella.

My memory's always been adaptable. Turns out as time goes by, I tend to forget the bad but remember the good. Hard to turn bitter over painful memories when I can hardly recall what happened then.

Even now I can hardly recall the slammed doors and terse arguments I had with my ISO - seems so sepia-toned and far away these days - but I can certainly recall the chilly autumn evenings we walked in London hitting the stores for a bargain. Trying to make it for late-night shopping just to get cheap, almost-expired chocolate pudding at M&S for a discount. Lying around sharing Haagen Dazs in the park under the early summer sunshine.


Endless summer days.
When I think of Paris, I don't recall the cramped closet-like room I shared with my fellow nomadic travellers. I do remember waking up every morning to look out a flower-strewn balcony where chic Parisiennes slinked by on cobbled stones to whatever awaited them that day. I remember the tantalizing scent of fresh crepes liberally mixed with Nutella.

And though Charming Calvin remembers the grime, the dust and the pollution that is all Beijing, all I can see are the windy streets, the falling leaves and the long quiet walks we took going home after our regular Hakka dinner.

Thank God for selective memory.



And thanks to Lanky Lex, I now have a theme song for my trip to Beijing.