It Feels Like Home



I mean, it doesn’t always feel like home all the time, of course, but it’s enough that I feel comfortable and very much enjoy the company of my classmates. Classes don’t just feel like mere lessons where the lecturer drawls on and on either, more like a voyage or even simpler, a road trip where we’re all sitting in the back seat arguing over what to listen to on the radio or snatching packets of chips amongst ourselves; classes where our lecturers are also participants of this little road trip we have, so that no one is left out.

And then there are the crazier moments spent outside of class where anything at all could happen. I’ve not only been taken out of my comfort zone, but its also been stomped on and pulverized several times that sometimes I just feel like a fish out of water, out of the mundane routine I follow in my natural habitat. But sometimes it’s refreshing, like taking a fresh drag of breath after living in under-oxgygenated water for so long. Both frightening and exhilarating. And I think that’s what makes each day a brand new one that is anticipated to be filled with different challenges, different situations and different topics to share my two cents about. It’s taught me to fulfil both aspects of input and output, to share but also to listen, to catch with both hands what is thrown my way, to participate and contribute as a body and not confining myself to the bare four walls of my room and the everglowing light of my laptop screen.

Published by

Michelle Teoh

26-year-old cynical Asian, book enthusiast and purveyor of fine sarcasm.

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