Strangers

As a kid, we were told not to talk to strangers nor to take anything from them. Our parents reckon, at the time, we were still very vulnerable. Yet how invincible are we when we grow up? Hard to tell.

Today was a completely random day for me. Wandered around the downtown area to kill time, to empty stuffs which might or might not exist in my stream of thinking.

Starbucks store is really an intriguing place, at least for me. Purposeful and coincidentally, i didn’t have the chance to immerse in my beloved kindle during my afternoon time at a Starbucks store. Having nothing routine enough to cling to, i was forced, and later rather comfortable and sunk in, to observe those chose to patronize that particular Starbucks store as well as to listen to their conversations.

It’s a wonder that people just 30-40 years ago would not experience without a kind of shock or amazement. Singapore is so much a melting pot, and a tiny pot it is, that the fact that one can easily meet or see people originated from a place half way around the globe no longer comes as a surprise or wonder. Where i was at this afternoon, it’s like a well-maintained and framed miniature of that society. Just right next to my table, a young Singaporean couple were chatting away enthusiastically over their Frappuccinos. Behind me were a European family, an Indian mid-aged couple, and a African-Asian couple. In front of me, a family of Indonesian sat next to a table of two Korean girls applying lotion on skin to keep moisture and enjoying their coffee at the same time. A typical of today youth with her laptop completely oblivious to her surroundings and a businessman who looked like he was contemplating rather than reading a document.

It would not be complete without the escalating buzzes of an myriad of languages and conversations shooting at every table in the tiny coffee shop, the noise of the blenders, and the greetings of the shop assistant with a forever trained smile on his face. Some nice music was definitely lost under all those discernible sounds.

Perhaps the effect of HP series hasn’t shaken off. it now appears to me as a real version of the Leaky Cauldron. Uhm… perhaps i could come up with something to bring chaos to the world like J.K Rowling? Normally i would hate letting my thoughts wander that much. But it was a lovely afternoon. I was, instead, quite enjoying my time staying completely oblivious to the reality and immersing myself in that chaotic in order small scene. Every movements, every sound, every face bemused me, calling eagerly inside for thoughts yet found itself lost midway. And that was it, not a scrutinizing or analysing look and view like that of Mr. The undercover economist nor a dramatizing or imagining observation of Ms. Prolific writer.

Probably i’m playing with my mind and computer again. But it was a nice getaway, even just in my mind. The moment i’m back to the station, seeing the same sort of crowd moving in an industrial-like manner on a Saturday night, i knew i was drawn back to reality again, just to let my mind filled with… things

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