Thursday, 7 November 2013


A sense of familiarity hit me as soon as i came upon Dickson road which was my starting 
point of the route in Little India. I looked up the facades just to realize how Wanderlust: A Member of Design Hotels also has a flash of white paint, warm tones to the building.  Beautiful detailing stickers which brings about an oriental vibe. 'Wander - lust': I can't help but to fall even deeper into this string of desire to pick up notions of my parallel reality. 

There came an annoymous tune. That tune. 

Stepping into the Wanderlust hotel, it definitely brings a wave of memories recalling and reminding me how the interior of the Hotel Alexandra feel. The first thing I can't help but to take notice was is the  alignment of the both spaces that are imbricating. I feel like I'm conversing with my thoughts so immensely that it's almost as if a translator tool; translating all the virtual into reality. Piecing all the missing puzzles back in place. 

The 3 man reflect the buildings, old yet experienced filled with stories despite how much things have changed. (the old records and antiques are like the small tents surrounding them, each have their own story to tell) 

Moving further down we are at Tamil Nadu Specialities.

engaged in the one way conversation. 
 (the black guy is conversing on the phone but his 2 friends(?)beside him are listening just as how the photo in the cafe are like. Normally when we are having meals, even though we are not conversing with the table to next us, we are able to 'eavesdrop' and somehow get engaged in a conversation this is one-way. ) 

moving into the tunnel - old man is the caramel substance channeling into the cab which is the tube almost entering something in a sense. 

Watching the world go by, as still as it is. 

the drawing looks like its looking at the crowd. 

Immune to the crowds they formed, we walked down the lanes as per usual. 
"OI! What you doing?!"
"Get lost!
"Inside got big ones, you want?!

Startled and shocked to find a Chinese uncle in his fifthties, pointing at us, snarling and glaring at us. Until the point we'd realise we were actually at the prosituition lane 

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