The hardest thing about leaving here so far is facing the things I’m leaving behind. Blame my bourgeoisie inclination perhaps, but you’ve got to admit that it’s hard when you’ve no idea if what anything you’ll find in Malaysia can replace anything you’ve found that feels just right in the US or not. Or even come close. Or.*

And then there’s the bloody convenient customer service. Oh, god. America and its convenience stores of free delivery, quick returns, and  friendly exchange policies. None of which exists in Malaysia.

On top of that, as if by deja vu, exactly four years after my first arrival in Bloomington, Indiana, another someone walked on the neighbourhood sidewalk with a laptop propped open in one arm, strolling.

I’m going to miss the sense of security and comfort provided by this town.

It’s time for me to wake up again to cynicism and paranoia. My parents won’t be helping with my stress level. Let’s be on super guard with our belongings and personal safety once more.


* Sounds kinda like comparing with interpersonal relationship experiences; finding the right match and whatnot.


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