31 degrees celcius, 100% humidity
The thing about being a Malaysian migrant living in the UK is that one has no conception of any distinction between summer and winter wardrobes; the latter, in general, consists of the former, but more thereof. However, now that I am a meteorologically-Anglicized Malaysian migrant temporarily residing in Singapore, I am entertaining the notion of forswearing all clothing and wandering around the city entirely naked, because it is just That Hot. At this juncture I might insert something suitably melodramatic about the unbearable transience of my current life, loss of identity and any semblance of a permanent address, but it is late, and I have a boy to fall asleep with.