16:24.

I just sloshed back 10 minutes ago from an errand run amongst other things. The temperature now is get this, 11 degrees; precipitation 90 percent and rainfall has possibly exceeded over an inch, as accords info on weather.com.

Slosh, slosh, slosh.

*brolly gets blown inside out*

*me - very amused look, and with hair whipping all over, swinging said brolly around to the direction where the wind blew in back into shape*

Melbourne, Melbourne.

It's my fourth day left here in the city of trams, unpredictable weather and very nice living conditions.

Come Sat, I will leave 222 Victoria St at about 2.30pm, arrive at Melbourne Airport at about 3pm, check in, dawdle around, say goodbye numbly or maybe cry, and walk through those feelingless steel doors. At 510pm, my Boeing 747 will take off and at 930pm, Sg time, 1230am, Melb time, I would be stepping on Singapore space and breathing the Singapore air.

That last bit doesn't make sense since air, like the moon and skies, are shared universally and in fact, probably one of the things lovers and romantics and thinkers find comfort in when lovers are separate, romantics are lovelorn and thinkers are contemplating this strange wondrous love affair of Life.

I love Melbourne.

But surprise, surprise, I love Singapore too.

Peace is mine now even as my heart still gets jabbed at little and bigger things involving this . that is about to be inserted at this junction of my living.

Dropped by the school just now with a friend and picked up transcripts.

I will never walk through those weirdly coloured, pseudo stained-glass sliding doors again or drink a Strawberry Mocha from the school cafe. I will never go up the escalators leading to the library and stop before I do so to pick up postcards from the rack. I will never go into RMIT bookshop again.

I walked - in the pouring whipping gale - to Big W, to upload photos to be developed. That's the place where I printed all my photos. That big underground monster cocoon of Big W and Safeway - opposite each other staring each other down creating a concrete brightly lit cocoon - will no longer hold me soon.

I walked to the money changer next to Starbucks, where I had sat down with girlfriends and friends to while away time with good conversation and shared company.

Cashed in some foreign currency because the accounts I did last night reflected my suspicion that I am in the red and then I walked to Target.

Because I can.

I didn't want any thing. Didn't really have the money to spend there, really. But I wanted to walk through its stocked space once again. Just like I did before, with the roomie, and alone.

It was once upon a time a ritual. A place our household initially hit every Sunday after church before the new-ness of it wore off though it remained on my roomie and my regular hitlist.

Walked through Myers, got honey-coasted Macademias and am seriously considering buying them for the family if I have enough cash to spare, and walked through Melbourne Central. All in a convenient bid to escape the rain and to say goodbye.

Sometimes, you got to be physically somewhere to say goodbye. You don't have to say any thing, you don't have to feel any thing particularly emotional, your presence does the fare thee well.

I walked through familar streets, felt the weight of the fact that I won't be walking through them for an unknown period (and if I do again, it would be within different context), and my feet said goodbye to the ground it touched.

Outside, the rain streams down steadily. Weather forecast for tomorrow is as gloomy as today. The precipitation is potentially so the coldest rain I have ever been in, as my bare feet and legs attested in shock this morning when I walked home.

I sip on my coffee with honey, Salvation Jane (that's the honey's name) from Vic Mkt.

And I have to go and pack.

The idea that I will be in a different country and enter a different life in seven hours [on Sat] is quietly baffling and hugely head-shaking inducing.

Love ya.