Chungking Express

I love eating alone at Asian restaurants. The solitude hits different when the table is crooked and I don't understand the language around me. More than anything it's truly a sonic experience. The slurping of the noodles, a white person's fork hitting the plastic bowl, the chatter of the asian women catering the whole restaurant. Somehow it makes the perfect venue to write about my thoughts and the dreams I grapple with. Surely this beats a boring coffee shop. Mysterious girl at a noodle house beats mysterious girl at a hipster cafe any day. There are two sets of couple sitting right beside me. This is making me proper sad. Both duos are sitting side by side whispering to each other.

I remind myself it's more special to be alone. Then I ask for my cheque.