Memo Log

4pm
@ Gurney Plaza after eating a handful of sorbet and visiting Ah-Ee. Bed ridden she said I have beautiful eyes. I held her hand and got my Mum to translate to her. I told her she was very beautiful for her age, skin was soft and that she’s as strong as an Ox for going up the stairs @ night to bed. A kid just rode past me with complete joy driving one of those fisherprice  car things as his dad pushes him along. I lost my mum in Padini along with my tolerance of terrible clothes and florescent lights. The European models for Padini are all questionable, plastic Arians, I’m surprised Malaysia haven’t questioned this. News in the paper lambasted a Hong Kongnese singer born in Malaysia for being drunk and disorderly and starting a fight in the street  -- media ensured he apologised to all his fans on 2nd page news coverage. Yet British media would show this in a magazine as celeb gossip of what they’re doing these days. Respect here is better – not shown what celebs are doing/behaving stupidly and are made to apologise – shows photo of celeb bowing out of respect.

I’m sitting in front of a toy kiosk and a hair accessory one. I’m paranoid I’m going to get mugged/pick-pocketed. No watch/clock to go by since iPhone got stolen so I’ve lost all sense of time. I spent ages thinking it was 2pm when it was actually 6pm. This wooden bench hurts my boney arse. Butt. Bum. Rear. Be-hind. Whatever. I’ve been joined by two teenagers which is making me wonder if my mum knows where I am. And if these tweens are as bored as I am. Lord knows why I even attempted bonding in conversation with **** over how shopping is hellish. Very un-Buddhist of me but what an arse-crack.