Tuesday, 11 August 2015

Home is where the heart is ... so, where is my heart

It's been three weeks since attending UNSW. I know where my classes are, where to shelter myself from the cold weather while doing work on my laptop and eating nostalgic sandwiches with strawberry jam, and how to catch my train. My room has two posters plastered to the wall: the UNSW student association's calendar (Arc) and a failed print of my second graphic design assignment. I've realized that I shouldn't worry about not exercising that much because my university isn't as flat as my chest and country. Also, it's perfectly legit to be a nomad on campus, stranding wherever I want, because I'm not stuck in a cave called IDE anymore, although I really miss my 'balustrade'.

The UNSW map I've been clutching all week long.

If you asked me what I learnt, I wouldn't know. It doesn't really feel like I'm here on my own, even though most of the time I feel quite isolated. There are people to take care of me here; this is not a semester of self-survival, not at home at least. I won't be stressed out about what to cook or when to buy my groceries, but there are other things I've been facing on my own: how to deal with the usual university chaos, the usual nostalgia, loneliness, and wishful thinking.

Although I enjoy most of my classes here, knowing that they are beneficial to my development one way or another, something still seems to be off. Perhaps it is the endless amount of quality time I spent with Illustrator for my graphic design course. Or maybe my sudden urge to turn the imaginary drawers of my laptop upside down, since I'm starting to learn about stacking stuff the "programmer's way". It could also be the lectures about the history of letterpress where my head suddenly feels ten times heavier, tending to nod down all the time. The biggest possibility of all is my higher risk of RSI whilst going on continuous dates with Illustrator, Solidworks, Maxwell Render, PuTTY, Moodle and Google.

Do you see what's off here? I guess it's human contact.

I have come to appreciate some of my overseas friends more, even though, technically speaking, I'm the one being overseas to the majority of them, but oh wells. At night, when there's time for myself, I get to talk to them. So during the day I'm just retreating into my own head, since everyone is sleeping at the other end of the world. I listen to my music, still the same band from November. I'm still me, just staring out of the window while sitting in the train. I think about chocolate and the work I need to do. Sometimes I'm so stoned, I'd start thinking: home is where chocolate is.

Really, I should throw my laptop out of the window and go all #Yolo #Hashtag #LookAtMeTakingASelfieWhileEatingACupcake #WhoNeedsElectricity #OhWait. But ... there's a big big butt, and it's not mine.

Well, no butts then. Remember the Arc calendar I plastered to my wall? I marked down some festivals there. Graphics festival. Chocolate festival. Youtube festival. Somewhere in August there will be a Poetry Slam at my university as well, it will be my first time attending one. So, enough to do! "Being lonely's only fun in a group", right? I will just be a hobo in the crowd and elbow my imaginary friend about how amazing Sydney is.

Oh, but I'm going to surf camp this weekend. It's something. Have fun reading my stories about getting bitten by sharks next time. Maybe I won't have imaginary friends anymore. (I'm talking about potential shark friends here.)

Cheers!






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