I’m being held hostage by Singaporeans. I have not had any time alone in daysâ€”every second has to be accounted for with food and alcohol and spas and clubs. It sounds like a great vacation, but I’M LOSING MY MIND. You’re going to have fun! Fun! FUN! even if it kills you! I’m groggy from lack of sleep. I got here Thursday just before lunch but I feel like I’ve been here a month. The media junketeers are in each other’s pockets 18 hours a day; it’s like we’re in a cult and were forced to marry each other. I feel like scrawling messages on the windows of the tour busâ€”Help! We’ve been kidnapped!â€”but goddammit the windows are too clean. Even relaxation time is enforced and regimented: Here is the spa. You have exactly one hour to refresh and have your spine rearranged. The masseuse gave me the Vulcan neck pinch: “I clack your neck lah! I clack your back lah!” Everything is orderly and pretty, like the contents of a snow globe without the snow. I actually miss Manila, which is just warped.