it’s funny how, at the beginning of the year, i whined about not being able to hop two states south to melaka to visit some friends and down a couple of chicken rice balls…and here i am, back from my third trip down to that little state. it’s funny. it really is.
i don’t know what it is about that place that has me yearning to visit again and again. perhaps it’s to satisfy my craving for good photography opportunities and (somewhat) pedestrian-friendly streets. it could be that melaka has so many hidden treasures that a single trip could hardly do it justice.
every turn could either take you back to where you came from or to a new place altogether. i exclaimed at murals within abandoned buildings and giant clogs outside furniture shops. graffiti-covered walls betrayed remnants of poster wars, evidence of rival companies fighting for first dibs on advertising space.
even the most lifeless of things had a life of their own. a broken safe proudly displayed its impenetrability, a kerosene fridge threatened to travel back in time, barbed wire clung fiercely to yellow pipes. they had a story even in their rusted out state. where else would objects have so much to say?
thanks girls. for being such excellent company, for staying awake to keep me awake, for hiding your disappointment of not buying back any dodol or pineapple tarts, for entertaining my strange photo requests, for being total darlings.
let’s do this again sometime, yea?
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