Back from Saigon. Saigon’s a much more romantic-sounding name than HCM city, innit?
Plane ride left me feeling feverish and out of sorts. It’s prolly the worst plane ride I had in my life. Everyone else felt fine. I swear never to take budget airlines unless I’m desperate.
I think train rides, bus rides and motorcycle rides are more romantic than plane rides because we are closer to the ground and more involved in the journey. We get to look out and smell the flowers, feel the wind in our hair. We get to see what’s along the way, and hear the sounds they make. Plane rides are cold and unfriendly. We’re locked in a pressurized cabin for hours and everyone pretends to be comfortable and civilized in that claustrophobia-inducing space. I yearned to moan and whine in sorrow, because I had a splitting headache. I could only suffer in silence, of course, for fear of imposing on others. Others who are just centimeters away. I could smell them.
There is no meaning in a plane ride. Plane rides are for people in a rush. I feel I can’t say I’ve truly traveled, when all I did was experience a change in milieu. The time meant for travel was lost. I spent 2 hours squirming in my seat and wishing to die, willing for the bastard headache to go away. I had an aisle seat, so I couldn’t see whatever was outside unless I craned my neck and shoved my face right in front of the lady sitting beside the window. Wasn’t interested in the clouds outside anyway; the glaring sunlight aggravated my headache.
I hated the plane ride and was glad to touchdown. Headache still lingering now.
Already given 3 presents by family. Don’t think I deserve nice things! I don’t deserve being treated so nicely. I don’t deserve all that good food. I’m a horrible person. This birthday, I am reminded that no amount of lavish gifts can be better than the gift of health. I shall start moving away from my couch potato lifestyle and work to preserve my health.
A big thank you to all who wished me. I’m really happy to have friends like you all.