I miss my grandmother and the cats.
I miss Paya Lebar. I like everything about it. I've gotten used to the ringing of the bells on the cats' collars. I've gotten used to staying home all day just reading. I've gotten used to my grandmother's nagging and her stories. I've gotten used to being forced to sleep every night.
Here at Pasir Ris, everything is different of course. The only cats here are the ones at the coffeeshop, and the neighbour's which could only occasionally visit. Here, I'm out everytime nobody else is home. Here, nobody nags at me properly. Here, I stay up all night every night.
I told myself to be strong and I did it. But guess what? I still have a weakness. And it sucks.
I've repeatedly reminded myself, "Love over fear", because it was the only way to make me go to sleep. My dreams make good stories; the more horrible they are, the more they actually mean to me. And you know me, I'd love to have a good story from my dreams.
School holidays are a good chance to avoid bad dreams. I needed a break, because when there's school, I'm forced to sleep early, and I'm vulnerable to the dreams that way. They make me tired, they mess with my head because of the inflicted emotions.
Even during holidays, at Paya Lebar, I know my grandmother wouldn't allow me to sleep late. I wouldn't mind that because when I have bad dreams, I'd wake up to see that she's there with me.
It's not the same here. I have my own bedroom. I don't want my parents to think I'm still a kid. Like hey, I survived a year without you guys. I'm stronger than you think.
I tried. I tried to have a night alone, but it still scares me. Before I left Pasir Ris in 2012, the dreams weren't as bad as they are now. Possibly because I've seen a lot more since then.
I know it's stupid that I'm actually letting dreams control me, but really. You should see how they really look like, in the dead of the night, in my head. It's far worse than emotions.
If you read my blog posts from before... I can especially never forget the feel of the gap at the back of my head. The way I could pry my skull open just by using my fingers. The sticky texture of my blood, on my fingers and running down my face. The way I looked in the mirror. [link]
There are a dozen others of course, most of which I never blogged about because they were too short. But trust me, they're dang memorable in the harsh way. Little moments here and there that were scary or violent enough to be etched into your brain.
Honestly, I'm most scared of the 3 a.m. hour. If I'm sleeping alone, I'll make sure I'm not asleep within this time frame, because I wouldn't be able to handle it on my own. The safest time to sleep is at 4.30 in the morning. Just because.
I know. It's weird to be in the control of my dreams. It's weird, and unbelievable. But I was tired of the dreams. I dream of ghosts that went up my skirt and into me, of classmates being buried alive and trapped under boulders, of children being slaughtered, of my grandmother being thrown a distance by a truck.
I remember all these and more. Dreams aren't easy to forget. People say it's cool, that I remember my dreams, when in actual fact there's nothing cool about it.
I've gotten tired of them. They eat away at me, long after I've woken up. Even if they were normal, without violence or creepy shit, they linger. They make me think of people I've forgotten, they make me wonder if these people are safe. They're that controlling of me.
Yeah. The dreams I have at night have always been my weakness.
I'm dreading school not only because of the fact that I've no friends now, but also because I'll be forced to go to sleep every night in order to be able to wake up the next morning. Not looking forward to it at all.
And you know what? The harder I try to fight this, the stronger they seem to become. Naps at 1 in the afternoon have always been peaceful, but lately they creep up to me at these times too, in broad daylight. I don't like it.
There's more to this. But I don't want to show anymore weakness than I should have.
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