Yesterday is here.

Whenever someone tells me that he/she enjoys traveling, I would ask, who doesn't? Unless you have a fear of heights, fear of flying, fear of being confined in a metal container flying fighting against its own weight, on fuel, 600 feet high up in the air. Or perhaps, fear of meeting new people, fear of sitting beside a completely unknown stranger, fear of over-friendly air crew, fear of eating lousy pre-done food, fear of not having enough leg space and the list goes on.

As for me, none of the above mentioned ever bothered me. Because I am a big fan of heights, I am not afraid of meeting new people (I just don't fancy talking a lot unless you are dead interesting to talk to), I am not a fussy eater (well, sometimes I do crave for better), I am really quite short and to confine me within metal for hours, I would call sleep, rest, read, 'me' times to think a lot or to dream a lot, doodle a lot or just observe the surroundings. What normally bugs me is the aftermath of touching down. The pain of trying to bring myself back to whatever surreality I have managed to slip into during the flight. The pain of having to move fast, the pain of having to move actually, the pain of having to fight for your luggage (if there's someone who insists your luggage is actually his and is blind), the pain of queueing for customs clearance. In general, the pain of having to be in reality with a short notice period after having drifted off to somewhere amongst the sea of clouds.

I have never had a great company for travel. I've travelled with two of my ex-boyfriends, flown with Mr Chelsea an ex schoolmate, and Miss Leech who's a long time friend. Nice people all are. But of course, not to my preference. I am sorry if I have offended you here. But what I am trying to say is, I seriously am not afraid of being alone, anywhere and everywhere. In fact, it's nothing but an enjoyment and a route to self-discovery, I would see it.

And for the record, countries which I have been to are a handful - literally. Taiwan, Macau, Zhuhai (just a customs clearance from Macau) oh... darn. That is all. I am not taking in account the states in Malaysia and Batam. This is so embarrassing. None of any countries with rich heritage are being named here. And especially for someone like me who has absolute no interest in Chinese heritage, who is not thrilled by ancient torture chambers, I have only flown to chinese countries.

If I could be a travel-writer, what kind of travel-writer would I be? Would my style be identical to Samantha Brown's? Anthony Bourdain's? Or even Janet Hsieh's? I do not have a gigantic dictionary bank, I do not have the guts to try exotic flavors, I do not have the sociable trait in me which calls everyone a friend, what's worse, I absolutely do not know any other third language. I would say I'd be a quiet one, one who gets too absorbed in the loneliness of things and perhaps what I'd pen down, would be callous, caliginous, and morbid. So this is to say, I will never be a travel writer. Because I certainly do not find a lot of intriguing factor in a lot of things.