After a busy day at work on Sunday, I allowed my restless feet to wander to Bayfront to see i Light Marina Bay 2016. I emerged from Marina Bay Sands Shoppe feeling slightly lost among the crowd, drowning in a cacophony of noise and loud dramatic music blasting from big ass speakers.
Then, the light beams started flashing and I looked to where the crowd was gathering.
There was a projection show of some sort, above the waters of the Singapore river. I was too distracted by the bobbing heads blocking my view from the show I gave up trying to be entertained by the fancy holographic, ethereal look of it all – which I have to say will be a pretty fascinating piece of technology if not for the crowd. Damn crowds.
I walked along the river from Bayfront to Esplanade, across the Double Helix bridge. I wasn’t feeling tired from the physical exertion. There was a hunger within me, a desire to be inspired and excited. With every step I walked, I could sense a fog enveloping my mind’s eye, despite all the lights.
For some reason, the city lights were failing to enchant me. I’ve always thought that night fall is the only time I can start feeling affection for cities, the glimmering lights like fallen stars, the giddy happiness of alcohol rushing up to the top of your skull and your insides feel as warm as the fairy lights that hang in the trees.
Maybe the mist that shrouds the luminosity of my mind is loneliness. Walking through throngs of people mainly in pairs and mostly in boisterous groups, the feeling of isolation really does pervade my limbs, turning them so heavy, my mind has to chip in and haul them up.
Such a stark contrast from the night out with my good friend, Kelly Jie. Same place, same time but I was feeling like a balloon floating high above the sea of people.
As much of a lone ranger I like to think that am, I think I do crave for the occasional human contact. No man’s an island. Singapore is an island and look at how sadly dim she is.