37 days to London

In the morning I was looking about looking for fire fighting procedures, intending to watch YouTube videos about knot-tying, about flashovers…

As usual I got distracted by Facebook scrolling and I saw my ex-flatmate posting a picture of Trafalgar Square in London. I can’t believe I’ve actually lived and breathed that place for 9 months. 9 months is actually a really long time — in these 9 months I learnt and was imparted so much that it has for the better of me completely moulded my own perspectives about life and how I treat people in my life.

Occasionally I miss London, combing Oxford street and city-hopping. Walking through glitzy streets with large billboards advertising musicals and walking about the familiar Chinatown before embarking on the 30-minute walk home without a mobile phone. Walking to the swimming pool 30-minute away, doing a 1-hour swim in the cold outdoor pool and reaching Schafer House feeling all satisfied, ready for dinner and my nightly Korean online lessons. In those months I led my life all by myself and I truly enjoyed that sort of independence; I suppose not everyone has the privilege to be in such control of their own lives at a relatively tender age of 19.

In those 9 months I gained a sort of lesson I’d never be able to impart or share, and for that lesson I’d do it all over again. I’d do the move to go abroad, I’d go through all the difficulties that broke me down again and again as a person in 2015 and I’d always be thankful for what I have received thus far. Even with what I know now about missing all the people I love or have come to love over here.

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