It gets so unbelievably blisteringly hot these days.

The sun and its blinding, throbbing, shine feel so heavy on my head and my shoulders - light heavyweights - as if they are trying to crush me to the ground.

And the air is so stagnant, so humid, I feel like I’m trapped - a fly in the spider’s web.

This doesn’t affect my daily life and my existence on this equatorial island: this is my life, my existence, in Singapore.

This is why I plan to leave, as soon as I can.

If Mr. P. could just up and leave for love, then I'm more than justified to do the same, because I'd be doing it for life.