This is how living in the East feels like

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Waiting for the elevator after visiting my aunt and uncle.

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You have been instructed…

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… to stand behind the yellow line.

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How many of us know that MRT in Chinese is 大众快速交通 ? To be fair no one says that in everyday use, 地铁 it is (even though it isn’t even underground half the time).

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74 is the magic number of my childhood.

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Daily life at the town centre.

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The florist at the market sells fake flowers too.

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Last night’s non-sober conversations become today’s crates waiting to be collected.

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A quick snap on the new overhead bridge we are forced to use because barriers have been erected to curb our jaywalking habits.

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The neighbor’s cat ready to pounce (sort of).

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The multi-storey car park behind our apartment.

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Stairs because we live on the second floor.

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A spot of green amid mundanity.

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Pathway leading to the bus stop.

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Not far from the bus stop.

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Where is the bus ?

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Technically this has nothing to do with being an Eastie but I usually have something to read on the bus to mommy’s noodle stall. Thumbs up to Female’s captivating cover this issue, I really like how the two typefaces interact.

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Alighted from the bus. It takes about five minutes to cut through the neighborhood to reach mommy’s stall.

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Halfway there…

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… almost there.

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Tell-tale signs of the Chinese New Year festivities at the hawker centre.

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The view from inside the stall.

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Why I went to mommy’s stall: To get lunch ! My mommy makes the most kickass fishball bak chor mee. I think I had two bowls of noodles that day.

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That’s all for now. Here’s a kitty good night from Bedok.

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