Eyes locked in interest and wonder

January, your eyes locked on me in interest and wonder
Your arrival against the cold and I forget how to shudder
A smile, and I can't help letting a breath escape my teeth
Every inch of you steals my air I can't breathe

July, your eyes locked on me in interest and wonder

Glaring eyes beneath the long hair bring a shudder

A smile, and your breath escapes through your teeth

Travel across and steal all my air that I can't breathe

February, my hands around your waist in possession
So much pain and trouble threatening separation
Your patience, you have entrusted me half your heart
The way you look at me, like I am a work of art

August, your hands around my waist in possession

Arms tight around me before every separation

A laugh, and aware that I've gotten half your heart

Admiring and gentle caressing like a work of art

March, your eyes devouring me in curiosity
Fingers in mine, wanting to grasp everything about me
An intake of breath, like it's always the first time we meet
You possess all my heart, you give it reason to beat

September, your lips devouring me in curiosity

Fingertips light as feathers, tingling every inch of me

A sigh of pleasure, before and after our lips meet

You possess all my heart, it forgets how to beat

April, your growing arms protecting my fingers
Long after you go, your scent memorised it lingers
A snore, as you sleep with your mouth open to your chest
I imagine a future, because I love you to that extent

October, your skin outlined beneath my fingers

Long after you go, your scent memorised it lingers

A snore, as you fall asleep against my chest

I imagine a future, because I love you to that extent

May, your heels stay rooted to the cold floor
Refusing to go, banging non-stop on my door
A slap across the face, screaming for you to leave
Your constant attention despite all the pain and grief

November, your heels turning away on the floor

Change of lock and key, beginning to close the door

A wave, a premonition that you are taking your leave

Shock comes after shock, no strength left to grieve

Wind, you come and you go as you please
When you come in you sweep me up with ease
I am in oblivion, hanging around your shoulders
You are enough to break all ice and boulders

Ghost, you shut me in and out as you please

When you pull me into your world I am at ease

But your eyes long for something over my shoulders

You are here but built around you are ice and boulders

____

A little story explaining this poem: The left-text are referring to the wind, while the bold right-text are of course the ghost. I'm sure you know who they are by now.

The thing with the wind, back in 2013, was how he just wanted to love everything inside me, from the things I like to the things that scare me. How I'd tried again and again to shut him out, but he always stayed outside the walls I built, trying to coax me into letting him in.

How he isn't here for me all the time, but when he is, you'd just appreciate every second of him existing.

On the other hand, with the ghost in 2014, it's how he just saw me, wanted me, got me, left me, you know those cliche shit. He'd shut me out, not letting me understand him, and when I think he is finally letting me in, he has found something else that he wants, thus his eyes over my shoulders.

How he says he is here for me, and he may be, but he isn't here wholly.

Blah blah bullshit whatever, I've been so stressed out with problems about these two, I don't know how else to let it out without going into cock and bull stories. Okay done.

By the way, this right-text and left-text format posts, I have no idea what to call them. They're usually done when comparing past and present and they're not usually in poem form, but I don't know what to name them. Perhaps just transition-type writing. Okay.

And just to say this, I miss the wind so much right now, and I'm in deep remorse for having disappointed him. I hope there'd come a day when you'd forget everything that is happening right now, because call me silly for saying this but I can't imagine anyone else being God's match made for me.

'Them'

You're gonna think I'm crazy, but I assure you what I'm gonna say is true. It's what's happening to me. Every single day. For who knows how long.

I don't know if it's normal, but it's so frequent to me that I think it is. But nobody else understands this, much less encounters it.

I dream every single night. And I wake up, every single event etched into the back of my eyelids like a memory.

My dreams, they're very real. No matter how violent they are, every second I am asleep it feels like I'm living that very moment. After I wake up it takes a while to differentiate the dream from the real.

Just last year they got more controlling, to the extent that sleep became very difficult for me. This year I declared I wanna be friends with them, writing stories out of them and yeah I guess it's been going okay with them.

I call them "them" like they're these stray cats coming to my doorstep, or horrible spirits haunting me. But that's because they're, my dreams, are a bit of both.

Sometimes they're lovely, like the one where I was in a really huge bookstore that stretched beyond the horizon. Like the many ones where I kissed the flower on the cheek.

At other times they're horrible, like a tidal wave actually managing to swallow me. Like the one where the wind bashed my head against the wall until I could split my skull open.

Not to mention the fact that this year alone I've came across many places that I've dreamt of before. It's perfectly normal for me to be walking along a road I've never been to before, and saying "Hey I dreamt of this place before." it just doesn't feel weird anymore.

It's totally different from deja vu. In fact I don't really encounter that much. I don't experience in real life something that I've dreamt of, in the exact same way. At most, something similar happens, but the most frequent for me is walking along the place where I dreamt of.

Just today I was looking out the window of the train, and I see a whole housing estate where I've had an entire dream in before. The dream was kind of dystopian/post-war/post-apocalyptic-ish, and I remember most of the building where it took place at.

And this new housing estate, the one that you see when you're leaving Pasir Ris MRT station, has the exact same structure as that dream of mine. Every slope, every hallway, I remember it all. I had this dream around the middle of this year, before the buildings were even built.

I really don't know why I'm talking about them actually. The last time I did, they 'attacked' me, I was sleeping all the time, dreaming every single second, jerking awake and being so damn affected by the intensity. I've blogged about this before.

Sometimes it's hard to grasp what's real or not. Sometimes dreams and reality are so similar that I just can't tell, even though someone may be alive in one side and not in the other, differences like that. I'm pretty sure you think I'm babbling right now, but you wouldn't understand unless you go through this.

If people could believe in things they've never seen before like a God, I have reason to be scared by these things I see every night. At least they're not the same in the sense that there's one single person or thing being in every dream.

One more thing about them, which I can't decide if I like or not, is the fact that I have my own alternate being. I have reason to believe my dreamself exists as her own, and is living her own life. I don't know if she really looks like me, I've caught glimpses of her in mirrors but I can't remember how she looked exactly.

I've had plenty of dreams connecting with one another, dreams that hinted my own life in the other side. She's doing real good the last time I saw her, because the flower still loves her a lot. Yep, the flower's dreamself is totally in love with her, as proven by plenty of dreams ever since the one where they got together, back in, like, April?

Not saying that my dreams happen in chronological order. They're messy that way, and I'm not always me in every dream. I was a little boy once, I was my friend once, little shit like that.

I'm honestly not sure if I've ever done lucid, because for all I know I've never gone to sleep with that intention. They do happen but not with me wanting to. I don't know. This part is fucked up, let's not touch on it yet. But yes I do have dreams where I could control my own movements. If I blog about long dreams with no random cuts and shit, that was definitely a lucid. They tire me out though.

Dreams are fascinating, really. If there were ways to record and share them, I'd throw in all the money I have for that. I'd love to share mine, love for you to see what I mean, the things I've said in this post.

They were scary last year, and still manipulative as heck, and clever, because they're so damn real sometimes. But nonetheless, they fascinate me. I love writing about them, and I wish to know more about them if they let me.

Two against the world

Waking up from a bed in the West, his arms around you.

Waking up from a bed in the East, your arms around yourself.

Your fingers intertwined with his.

Your fingers clenched in a fist.

Conversations with him, revolving around your thoughts.

Your thoughts, revolving around conversations with him. 

Your feet dangling in the air as he carries you to the bathroom.

Your feet dragging across the floor as you walk to the bathroom.

Two imperfect bodies kissing in the mirror, joined together as one piece.

One imperfect body staring back from the mirror, broken into a million pieces.

Your back brought up the wall, your legs wrapped around him as he kisses your neck in the rain of the shower.

Your head brought down the wall, your legs knelt beneath you as the rain of the shower kisses your back.

You moan his name in pleasure; "I love you."

You cry his name in longing; "Where are you?"

He is expanding inside you.

Half of him is growing inside you.

He's here and that's enough to make you.

He's not here and that's enough to break you.

You think you are lucky to have fallen in love with him.

You know you are stupid to have fallen in love with him.

It's two against the world, you and this person beside.

It's two against the world, you and this thing inside.

You have no idea he is gonna kill you.

It has no idea you are gonna kill it.

Burning with hope.

Drowning in pain. 

They're all a part of you

I have 3 friends.

A flower.

A gust of wind.

And a block of ice.

I'm not too far from them. I'm a flame.

I am obsessed with metaphors, but most of mine aren't carefully thought out ones. The most consistent metaphors I have are probably the ones where I determine one's 'Type' based on their story or personality.

I'm not saying I know these people very well, but my experiences with them have helped me see what makes them move. Sometimes their Types intertwine with one another's, which makes it all the more interesting... I really love seeing people with Types.

I haven't found one person for every Type, but I have found my 3 friends who have been consistent in who they are.

____

You are Grass when you've never had your first love, or first kiss, first anything.
When you've never put a knife through anyone's back or on your own skin.
When you've never tried to modify your flaws or expand your strengths.
When you live your life as you are, content with your place and whatever comes along.

You are Flying when you're not afraid to show who you really are.
When you haven't a single shred of past stuck to you, free as you please.
When you work hard for what you want, investing what little strength you have into your wings.
When you fly away when it's time to leave, despite the mess you'll leave behind.

You are Fire when you grab onto something and spread through all of it.
When you are pushed away and deemed dangerous when they think you're giving too much.
When you end up burning your hands even though all you wanted was to warm yourself up.
When you need someone to calm you down everytime your emotions get overwhelming.

You are Water when you learn how to keep your feelings in check.
When you learn how to adapt to any situation, becoming the shape of whatever contains you.
When you go with the flow and deal with it even if it's not what you want.
When you're needed by someone only when they need to quench their thirst.

You are Ice when you've managed to disguise your soft side within hard walls.
When you think you are tough but deep inside you know you'd break when hit hard.
When you're so used to the cold, you get scared when someone warm finally comes along.
When you make sure you don't shed a tear because it'll mean you are melting.

____

I met the block of ice as cold as he was, but over time I watched him melt into water, not as cold and more adaptive to all kinds of situations. It made me realise that, maybe a person can't be just one Type at all.

In fact I dare say, we are all these 5 Types; Grass, Flying, Fire, Water, Ice.

We have been an innocent flower, not sure of the outside world, never had our hearts broken, not a single scar on our skin.

We have been a gust of wind, a little birdie flying high in the sky, proud of who we are and going wherever we wanted without worries of being shot down.

We have been a flame, doing our best to keep someone warm, wanting people to realise our worth even when we ended up getting hurt by our own actions.

We have been a river, going forward, following the currents wherever it took us without struggling, just watching as the people around us go by.

We have been a block of ice, believing ourselves to be tough and strong even though we know we'd melt easily from the tiniest bit of warmth or emotion.

____

My friend the flower will someday learn to be unafraid of abandoning the patch of grass he's stayed his whole life. He'll someday grow a pair of wings and earn enough courage to blow through the hair of the people he wants to love.

My friend the river will always revert to and fro ice and water, because he'll never stay frozen as long as I am here. He breaks down sometimes because he knows he is not a hard rock; he is just ice, forced into a cube of his own lack of warmth.

We're not just one Type; we change as we grow up. We change to and fro as we experience all kinds of things in life, be it good or bad. We'll always go back to being a flower when we meet someone we love, convincing ourselves of a brand new start--because it is.

The stages of life: Grass, Flying, Fire, Water, Ice, and back again. But it's okay to go through every one of them countless times. It's okay to stay as one for many many years.

The leaves that you unknowingly step on,
the wind that messes up your hair,
the sun that brings drips of sweat down your back,
the rain that is sometimes cooling and sometimes angry,

they are all a part of you.

And you are a part of them.

What makes a Ghost

At first, he was Ghost because of his sob story with his then-girlfriend. He told me how she was always neglecting her, how he always felt invisible to her, how he'd stayed despite feeling so hurt by her. I understood his pain because I'd been there before.

It was one of the reasons why I took him under my wing, because I wanted to make sure he didn't feel that way anymore. It was wrong, but I sympathised for I have felt that pain myself. Now I realised my mistake of not listening to her side of the story, but that shall be another matter.

Therefore, in my little world of metaphors and Types [which you should know about if you've been reading my blog] it made him Ghost. For he stayed at the very spot where he had died, right next to the person who killed him again and again.

If you've read my previous post, you'll know how I feel for this Ghost. If you remember, I've also blogged about how I had to reject him in August because I'd chosen the wind back then. When that turned out to be a mistake, Ghost was the first one there for me, so naturally we came together and of course love blossomed blah blah.

It took us a while to be official, even after all the dates and calling each other sayang and all the cute things we did together. It didn't last very long; in fact, it probably started going downhill the moment he asked "Will you be my girlfriend?"

I don't know if people would understand that I just didn't want to lose him, or just call it me being over-attached. I hate that phrase, but it's what he said.

Me getting mad when I watched him hug another girl so tightly in front of me; me getting frustrated when I wasn't sure whether he wanted space or attention; me getting upset when he shut me out and chose to confide in his girl best friend just because she knew him longer; was it so wrong of me to feel these emotions when he made me go through what he did?

I didn't feel it fair for me, because who would stay smiling watching her boyfriend hug another girl like his life depended on it? Which girl wouldn't feel rejected knowing her boyfriend chose to talk to another girl instead; she knows you longer, sure, but it isn't fair because you keep shutting me out when I want to try to understand you. I just met you, of course I wouldn't know you that well.

Well, I did my best, and just like with the wind, it wasn't enough at all for the Ghost.

All I did was love him, and all I gave him was my time and effort and stupid stories so he'd laugh. But it was barely enough to make him want to stay.

Once a cheater, always a cheater.

I really didn't expect he'd do this to me, but of course he would. He's those kind of cliche guys who would fuck you up and then leave you right after with an excuse, just so he could go with the next girl he'd found. It took me a while to realise that, shame on me.

Just thinking of it is making me go insane. I really believed he wouldn't do this to me, even after witnessing him do it to another girl. So stupidly blinded by 'love', so stupid and gullible with too much trust to spare.

I was convinced he wasn't a Ghost after all; I didn't want him to have a Type according to his past but according to his personality instead.

Well I guess he is a Ghost after all, because he doesn't change. He does stay where he is, he does continue to linger at the same spot, doing the same thing to different people, haunting the next person to come along his way.

Please have my heart

I saw your problems from day 1. You say "You don't know me" but in a way, I do. Because I've been in your position. I know what you're doing, what you'd do next.

I knew how to tackle you from the very beginning, to help you go through all your bullshit with me. I took on the challenge but it was harder than I thought. Helped me realise this is what I'd made everyone around me go through when I was in that phase.

I wanted to accept you the way you are, and I managed to because you showed me that side of you. It frustrated me to see you being someone else around everyone else, but close the doors behind us and it's all bliss you are.

The things you told me, the things we laughed about, the things we loved each other for. It was so easy to fall for you. It was so easy to feel that all of it was 'love', so easy to have appreciated the little events in the previous weeks that led up to that moment.

When you asked me to be yours, I had to take a huge risk. I'd seen you hurt other girls in my presence, and you know how people say whatever a guy can do to another girl, he can do the same to you. I was betting on my life when I said yes.

But knowing that, I did my best to make sure you'd never feel the need to hurt me. I put you as my number 1 priority, which wasn't difficult in the first place because I didn't have my own best friends that I see everyday. There's 1, but he's your best friend too, so there was no problem with that.

As time went on you started giving me reasons to be mad at you, but I only reacted that way because I loved you and didn't want to lose you. I kept telling myself to deal with it because that's how you are and I'd have to accept it even if it hurt.

Sometimes it felt like my existence was nothing to you, because you'd always choose to confide in someone else about whatever problems you have. I kept emphasising on the fact that it may be fun and laughter and jokes between us but that it was okay if you had serious things to talk about too. I was willing to listen to it all.

When you first started talking to me, you told me all the problems you had with her. I tried not to hurt you the way she had, but time went on, and it turned into you hurting me that way instead. At times I thought I understood why she had acted that way in the first place; you were the one pushing people away.

You told me not to put so much trust in you, not to care about you. I wanted to give you whatever you needed, but give you too much space and you'd say the same thing about me like what you said about her: "I have a girlfriend but I don't feel like I have one." you were the one pushing your significant other away. It was hard to grasp whether you wanted attention or space.

During our pre-relationship days, we both had someone else. We were both indecisive at the time, we had the same hard decisions to make. In the end we chose each other, chose to put away whatever it was we had before with somebody else.

I did that. I totally forgot about the wind when I was with you, very sure he'd be nothing compared to you. Very sure you'd give me all the bliss he gave, and I was glad when you became more and more comfortable with me like how he was. I loved how you'd get annoyed with me and love me at the same time.

In return, I tried to be better than your previous girl too. I took your confidings into consideration, remembering the things you told me about her that hurt you, made sure I didn't do the same and made sure I gave you more, gave you whatever you needed.

Was that not enough, because even when you said you chose me, your heart was still with her. I thought you were happier with me but the kept photos and changed wallpaper and contact name "Love" proved me wrong. It was unfair to me because at that point you were already my only one.

I learnt your logic was screwed, so screwed I had to bend over backwards to understand you. It was hard, but I figured it was worth whatever pain for you.

I really gave my best for you. I give my best for every one of my significant other, be it an official relationship or dating or just infatuation. Whoever I'm with deserves nothing but the best for choosing to be with me of all people.

We were starting to fight nearly everyday but I just didn't want to lose you. You were hurting me every other day but I kept quiet because I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. The 2 times I did cry in front of you, I just couldn't take it anymore at that point because everything was just crashing into me.

Even if you were the one who killed me in the first place, I'd be grateful for you the moment you resurrected me with a simple wipe of my tears and a kiss on my head.

I loved making you laugh. I loved teasing you non-stop even if you were already ignoring me the past 10 minutes. I loved hearing you give that "what am I doing with my life" sigh when I drag you to do something stupid with me.

Whatever we've done together the past few months will stick with me for a long time you know.

How you wrapped your arms around mine when we watched our first movie together.
How the both of us had coincidentally worn navy blue shirts for our first date.
How you'd said "It's because I love you" before you dived in for a kiss when we were sitting at my school field.
How you fell asleep with your arms and legs around me during City Of Bones.
How we kissed to the same song over and over.
How we explored each other in the dark, every outline, every inch of skin, with our lips.
How I brought my hand up your leg slowly when we watched If I Stay, only for us to look up and see Adam doing that to Mia as well.
How I puked in the middle of VivoCity, my vomit landing right between your shoes and how we just walked away after a minute of processing what just happened.
How we always pretended to wrap our arms around each other only to unleash a deadly burp into the other's ear.
How shy you were when I gave you a surprise kiss on your cheek when you're in the middle of talking.
How I'd spin under your arm and you'd spin under mine as well just to make me laugh.

You hurt me but oh you do not know how willing I am to go through the hurt just to go through all these little things again.

I could go on and on, because if I remember people for the tiniest of interactions with them, I'm very sure I'll never forget you.

If all this wasn't enough to convince you that it's okay to be with me, then I don't know what else I'm supposed to do. Following suit your screwed logic, you told me you take words very seriously. Well these are all the words I have for you so please take them. This has been me spilling out my heart so please take it.

Kings of tidal waves and lightning bolts

Why do we keep running?

Is it because the king of tidal waves is growing out of the horizon, coming faster and faster towards us?

I never liked water. It's my biggest enemy. I don't get seasick; but the slightest interaction with water drives me crazy. A shower is fine only if it's set to the highest available temperature.

I wouldn't have boarded a ship in a million years. But with that giant wave threatening to swallow me, I jump right on, my cheek dragging against the wood of the floorboards.

Panicked whispers form out of the other survivors. I struggle to sit up before I drag myself along the floor to sit in the corner. My knees hugged to my chest, I look through the glass that makes the wall of the ship.

The wave is growing larger, coming closer. Everyone comes forward and watches the sight with me; they fall silent, as if still trying to process what they're witnessing.

Some of them react as dramatically as sliding down to their knees, burying their faces in their hands. The others walk away further from the glass wall towards the other side of the ship, heads stooped low. A few groups hug each other; it must be nice to still have your family or friends during this disaster.

Me? I have no one. I'm alone. I don't know where any of my loved ones are.

The wave comes closer; it's so large it covers whatever sight is left of the sun. I don't move from the wall at all, just watching my fear expanding beyond my strength.

Everything seems to pass in slow motion. I watch the wave hit the floor of the ship, its boards breaking apart; the impact creeping up on me, throwing everyone off and then me. I hit the water, and instantly I can't breathe.

I don't know how low I've gone. Maybe it's just an exaggeration on my part, because I don't like water after all... Being just an arm's length away from the surface still makes me feel like I'm chained down to the deepest recesses of the ocean.

To imagine that giant wave from before destroying our ship and throwing us off into suffering, only to go back into its origin and hiding within the rest of the ocean..... it makes me so sick. Water is a cruel thing.

The currents grow stronger, and I see a few bobbing heads scattered in the water. A few floating bodies, dead. The sight scares me, but I don't know if I'm shivering from the fear of dying that way or from the cold of the wind against my soaked being.

A few quick strikes of lightning.

I'm struggling to find a piece of the ship to float on. The impact of the wave was so strong that nothing is left of it.

And then I see it; a fat line of light coming down slowly from the sky, towards the waters. The king of all lightning bolts, determined to fry us all once it kisses the very tip of the ocean's surface.

Indescribable pain shoots up every fiber of my being. I don't feel my body anymore, don't even remember if I even own one.... How am I still alive? How is everyone around me still screaming in pain instead of floating quietly and dead and charred?

____

I wake up tangled in a net.

The first thing I realise is: I can't feel my legs.

The first thing I see is: people are still alive, but they're not people anymore.

They're burnt.

And as they're pushed by guns belonging to men that still look human, they walk forward, on all fours.

I'm trapped in a world where people continue to slave despite how the kings of tidal waves and lightning bolts had caused everyone's legs to fold beneath them, making them look like distorted frogs.

I don't want to look down to see for myself how my legs are, but I feel the muzzle of a gun forced onto my head, and I proceed forward to find myself walking on my feet and my hands, my knees on either side of my face.

____

I wake up in my bed this time, and my legs are aching, but they're not folded beneath me. 

Never meant to be gone so long

I still remember back in January this year. After 2 years of being away, I was so excited to be going back to Pasir Ris. And then 3 days ago, after 4 months of being away, I was excited to be going back to Paya Lebar.

These two places aren't very far, they're merely 8 stations apart, and not a different state or anything. Still, it makes me feel like these two are huge places, occupants of big spaces in my heart.

They're both special in their own way, enough to make me feel emotional every time I have to leave one of them. Pasir Ris was where I grew up and out of my innocence, and Paya Lebar was where I learnt the most valuable lessons from about moving on.

When I went back to Pasir Ris in January, there was that familiarity. The feeling of recalling every outline of your bedroom, the positions of all the furniture, the places of all the little things; it's easy to remember all of that no matter how long you were gone, you know? It didn't feel like I'd been gone at all.

Still, after a few long months of being there from Ramadan til now, it didn't feel like home anymore. Deep inside I was aware that my parents and brothers weren't my only family. The friendships from secondary school weren't my only social circle anymore.

It was starting to feel like Pasir Ris was just a small town, kept from the outside world that is Paya Lebar and everywhere else. It felt like as long as I was in Pasir Ris, I'd be cooped in a shell, kept far too safe from what I'd been exposed to.

From the moment my dad kicked me out, that fateful day 2 years ago, he had permanently cut the cord that had tied me down to Pasir Ris. Try as I might, making it home again was like a glitch that corrupted all your memory, rendering your progress entirely useless. A glitch that you're better off not messing around with.

I decided that Paya Lebar is where I really belong now. Home isn't where you come from; it's where you choose to be. And this is where I choose.

So here I am now in Paya Lebar, but again, everything has changed. The old fire station has been turned into an office building. There's a new shopping mall with a frexing Starbucks. A neighbourhood police centre suddenly sits at the void deck.

At my home itself, nothing's changed since the last time I visited, but it still isn't the same anymore. It isn't the way I got so familiar with; no more of my books in boxes, no more of my clothes folded into stacks on the floor, no more wind to text "I'm home sayang" to.

At least, those books are now sitting beautifully on shelves at Pasir Ris.
At least, those clothes are now hung gracefully by hangers at Pasir Ris.
At least, that wind has been replaced by a ghost I met during my days at Pasir Ris.

At least, the cats still remember me, be it the ones in the house or the void deck.
At least, my grandmother still welcomes me home and loves me.
At least, I made it this far, to one year shy of being 20.

I have grown up a lot. I've spent my entire life at Pasir Ris, but it was the 2 years at Paya Lebar that taught me everything I know now.

It's not gonna be my place forever, but for now it's the place I love most. I love everyone at Pasir Ris, including my sister-in-law and my niece who is coming in a month's time, but Paya Lebar is where I'd like to belong to.

Whoever you are, I remember and love you

I mean it
when I say

I don't forget anyone.

No matter how long ago
No matter how small the interaction
No matter how you treated me

I would never forget you.

I remember the first friends I'd made in poly and the drama that followed
I remember the cliques from secondary school and the non-stop gossip
I remember my best friends from primary school and the games we played
I remember the children from my kindergarten.
I remember their faces, what we did together, their names.
And whoever you are, I'll always remember you. I could be directing this right at you for all you know.

With remembrance comes love. If I remember you, there's a chance that whatever love I had for you is still with you.

I probably still have a bit of my love for the wind, for my semester 1 classmates, for my sec 4 classmates. Even if they don't want it, even if they don't realise its existence, the bit of my heart I'd given still lingers around them, hanging by their ears or stuck to their backs.

They don't remember me but I think about them sometimes.

Every year I do this thing of writing little notes on my blog, thanking the people who were there for me at one point. I've been looking forward for the year to end only so I can start writing thank you paragraphs for the people of 2014.

I just want people to be appreciated. I want the people I love to know how much they mean to me. It saddens me all the time to know that they don't feel the same way for me. Still, it'd be nice to for them to know they mean something to someone.

Not someone they'd give a shit about in return, but at least someone... Right? It's the least I could do.

When I give my love I don't ask for it back...
Maybe my dad had thrown his piece of my heart out the door as well two years ago,
maybe my big brother had traded his piece of my heart for a foetus 8 months ago,
maybe the wind had broken his piece of my heart when he dropped me for the third time,

but

there will always be a new seed planted in their souls
a seed that grows into a piece of my heart shortly after.

Maybe it's tiny this time
but
it's there.

And as long as they don't know it's there, they won't touch it, and they won't break it.
I guess it's safer to love someone who isn't aware they have a piece of your heart.

It's sad when someone doesn't know you love them
doesn't appreciate that you love them
doesn't love you like how you love them
doesn't even believe you love them.

I'm trying to accept that not everyone I love will love me back...
Even the best friends I see and laugh with everyday keep things from me
even the only friend I have in poly choose to talk to someone else about her problems
even the one who understands me most choose to push me away when I want to hear him out.

I don't know what to do

They tell me not to worry
not to bother trying to understand them
not to give them my full trust

but that's just how I work.

Even if I've sinned you
or pushed you away myself
or kept quiet when you were suffering alone
or didn't have any advice for your problems

you know, I remember you
and I love you

Just wait until the end of the year and you'd be surprised that I remember the tiniest moments with you. Moments that you wouldn't remember, but that I'd be thankful for for a long time.

Whoever you are, you have a piece of my heart, glowing with every tear that drops into it, be it mine or yours. In the time I was writing this, I've already thought of a lot of people....... Specific names, specific moments.

Everyone means so much to me.... I wish they'd at least see it if they wouldn't return it.

A poem about strength

Strength is distinguishing alive from dead;

Bullets barely grazing the side of your head. 

Strength is walking in a new direction;

A rusty swing constantly in motion.

Strength is the scenery changing as you pass;

Not bothering to sweep up the broken glass. 

Strength is your fingers flying across the piano keys;

The opportunities you never had guts to seize. 

Strength is putting away dusty photo frames;

No more crying when you hear certain names. 

Strength is the determination to breathe and float;

The lifting of the oars to row the boat.

Strength is smiling at the blistering heat;

Running until your heart forgets how to beat.

Strength is a bridge formed by differences;

Being pulled closer the longer the distance.

Strength is the bruises turning a murky yellow;

Jumping despite unawareness of what's below.

Strength is having a voice louder than thunder;

Standing in harsh winds without as much as a shudder.

Strength is the pride and love for your inner soul;

The continuous burning of fire against the cold.

Strength is lifting your knees up from the ground;

Your chin to the sky, no more looking down.

____

I can go on and on forever because strength comes in so many forms, but I shall stop here.

Circa Heroine

Back to the year 2011, when I was the girl running around with that lousy camera, irritating everyone by recording their faces. I wasn't friends with everyone, had just the few girlfriends I was happy with.

This little video recording job was the only opportunity for me to talk to every one of my classmates. If not, half the time I'd just be in the shadows, behind even my best friends.

By the end of the year, I loved all my classmates more than anything. I loved how we made effort to go out and plan chalets, I loved the memories they gave me in my video camera. Even til now, I'd look back at those videos and I'd still laugh to myself in reminiscence.

2012 was when I was completely alone, but by the end of the year these classmates were reaching out to me, and I appreciated them finally noticing me from the corner of the classroom. I remember each and every one of them, their very actions and words, even til now. I'll never forget because even now I'm still thanking them.

The reason why I got kicked out from my Pasir Ris house 2 years ago was because I'd stayed out overnight with these classmates.... It was the class chalet, and everyone else was staying up all night, so I decided to join them.

I got back in the morning only to have my dad kick me out. I went months being a pure Paya Lebar girl, not seeing my parents the whole time. Sometimes a part of me blamed my classmates, but I tried not to, because no matter what I still loved them.

I loved them more than anything, but they didn't love me back. Of course. Not everyone you love returns the feelings, right?

Love isn't just for a lover, but also for family and friends... The sadness that comes after you get rejected by a friend is no different than being thrown away by a lover.

Come 2013, when I have new classmates; people all over Singapore gathered together as 1A1. We were all so awkward at first, but after a few days of a Whatsapp group and orientation we started meeting outside school.

Gosh, I was so happy with them all, the laughing non-stop at stupid jokes, spending our hours-long breaks playing pool, sneaking out of class to get ourselves snacks.

I rejoiced in our differences, wanted us to stay together til whenever, because I was starting off that path with them. Of course that didn't last forever either... I was force-fed with the truth that the people you meet in poly will never be your friends forever.

I'm alone until now, with only 1 true friend who was in the same boat as I was, and I'm grateful for her, but sometimes I wonder what it would be like to still be friends with my original classmates.

Friends are the closest to family, sometimes closer than your own blood.

I joined the Whatsapp group community early this year because it was obvious I wasn't gonna make friends any other way. The people in my school were just way out of my league, and I was too shy to interact with anyone in real life.

After just a few days in Heroine, I already loved them. I'd laugh to myself thanks to our conversations, no matter how sad I was before that. No matter how lonely I got, a whole day of laughter was just a "Hi guys" away.

Again, we were all a collection of different people. We were all scattered around Singapore, messy with all kinds of personalities.

The original Heroines were the ones who gave me that little push to move on from my then-recent break-up. When we first met, we weren't awkward; we laughed and bullied each other like long-lost friends. They were my everything.

Even when things got a little messed up, with people developing unreturned feelings and leaving the group unannounced, I loved Heroine more than anything. I had many groups, but they were the one and only who had all of my heart.

I was gone for a while because my phone was a little crazy and I couldn't use Whatsapp. When I came back, most of the people I knew were gone, replaced by countless new numbers, new faces.

At first, I didn't like it; I missed the older members, but as time went on I grew more comfortable with everyone. I learnt to accept the change, to embrace the new and at the same time never forget the old.

The few times all of us met up, I was more than happy and grateful to be in that group. I kept thinking of my secondary school girlfriends, how they all had their own poly friends while I didn't. How the wind had his own ite friends and I didn't have any in poly.

Heroine was my version of tertiary best friends. They meant so, so much to me, and I was so proud to call them my friends.

They were more than friends; they were family.

I loved all of them, each and every one of them. Maybe that's a lie, maybe I do still love them... That would explain why I get all teary-eyed whenever I think of them there without me.

I didn't have a say in this. I never wanted to leave, but just because I have sinned one person from there, I am forced to make my undesired exit.

I am a little mad at the fact that he was the cause of all the events of the past 2 months, and yet she made me out to be the bad guy. He calls Heroine 'just another group', while Heroine is the world to me. He doesn't deserve to be in there at all, if following suit my opinion.

As much as I love him, I hate him more everyday as long as he is in there and I am not.

Funny how they would get upset when someone leaves on their own intention, but they don't make a single stir when someone who loved them more than anything is shunned by one person.

I get sad thinking about it, wanting to be in there with everyone again but I know I can't do anything about it. This is just another group of friends that I'd regarded as family but whom see me as nothing but just another person.

Even if I never talk to anyone in there ever again, I just wanna make it clear that I'd never forget a single one of you. Even if we had the tiniest bit of interaction, I'll never forget it, because every single individual in there meant so much to me.

I don't even know if anyone of them reads this but hey. At least it's out of my system. Gosh I just loved them so much... But I'll let them go if I have to.

I know I haven't shown my love for you guys and I haven't been showing my concern upfront. I'm always watching from the shadows, hoping you'd be okay even if I'm too shy to say anything or to offer a listening ear. But please accept my words because they are all I have for you. I love you guys so much but I know I've to let all of you go.

The silence after fire

An explosion.

The last thing I remember before the burst of flame was the presence of other people around me. Everyone was laughing, enjoying each other's company, moments before they were all torn mercilessly to shreds.

I remember my palms placed flat against my ears, and him jumping to wrap his arms around me. I remember cuddling against his chest, seeking solace in his scent like it was a physical wall that could protect me.

You don't know what 'loud' is until you hear silence.

It was deafening.

The silence was screaming from within me, threatening to split my head wide open. It was louder than what any concert or clap of thunder could ever be.

I don't recall how long I closed my eyes... I squeezed them so tightly I thought my eyelids would have eventually ripped apart.

I opened them to see everything gone. Pasir Ris, the town where I'd grown up in, nothing but ruin and debris. The grass stained with blood, roads littered with burnt body parts.

I'd closed my eyes with his arms around me. When I opened them, they were still around me.... Just his arms. The rest of him was gone. Whatever had been left of him was a mangled, charred mess with the remains of everyone else.

Everything and everyone was in ashes, and I was the only survivor.

The sound of the explosion completely deafened me, but the silence and still that followed was louder, that it masked even my screams.

I jerked awake from my mattress and released a breath I was unconsciously holding.

Crazy thoughts

I was on the train today, and I was standing in the same spot the whole time. I still had a long way to go, and then I spotted someone getting ready to alight. Of course I got ready to take his seat because duh I wanted to sit.

I was about to sit, the seat being just two steps to my left, and then BAM! this woman who just came in stole my seat like nobody's business. She sat down and continued watching whatever movie on her phone, oblivious to the heart that she had just broken [mine].

Well damn, I squinted my eyes at her in frustration, and the more I stared at her the more I wanted to hit her in the head. Really!

But I didn't of course, as much as I wanted to. And then I had a train of random thoughts following suit: if I had listened to my heart and hit her like I'd wanted to, the people on the train would think I was crazy.

And then it occurred to me that you would usually be called crazy if you do or say things that you want to.

Thinking about it, I've been called crazy a bunch of times for speaking my heart out, be it out of happiness or anger or whatever. Is that how things really work? People dismiss your thoughts as craziness if they don't accept them.

You'd walk down the street and a random man could come up to you and shoot his mouth off, and even if whatever he was saying made sense, you'd just dismiss him as a crazy person. Do I not make sense???

I don't know, I just had these random thoughts. Am I the only one who sees the world the way I do, who is brave enough to actually say what I want? If I am, then does that make me crazy?

Love someone different

I once let go of someone I really liked, because I strongly believed that all I would do was destroy him.

He was a flower, and I was a flame. I couldn't disrupt his perfection with my rage.

He's never had a first love, never had a girlfriend, never had his first kiss, never harmed a hair on anyone else or himself. While I, on the other hand, I've thrown away every ounce of innocence I used to have. Permanent scars to symbolise my dirty past forever. 

I let it go because I knew I didn't deserve to be his first anything. That I couldn't ever be, and that he deserved to have someone better than I ever will be.

It was the sad truth, but it was a pity, because he meant so much to me and I really did like him more than I ever thought.

If this was a movie, fate would continue pulling our lives together. Time would ensure the flame intertwines around the flower, like a vine in itself, wholly accepted by something that it would have otherwise destroyed.

Because after a lot of thought, I realise that Fire and Grass make the perfect lovers. 

A flame can show the noise and buzz of the outside world to a flower, her energy warming up his roots and petals, ensuring he continues to prosper and live.

A flower can show the quiet and soft side of the world to the flame, his silence calming her and burning her anger down to the ground.

Maybe the perfect lover is not someone who shares the same interests in you, or someone who has the same experiences as you.

Maybe the perfect lover lies in the person most different from you.

Maybe differences are what pull two together.

Love someone completely different from you, so they can show you the side of the world you never knew, and you can show them the side which they don't.

That's a way for you to belong to each other. And there's definitely something beautiful about loving yourself and your other, two differently broken shapes that piece together a whole new world. 

Aceing 2 S5 :-)

So exactly a month ago on the 10th of September, I tweeted something that went along the lines of: "Everyone has new phones and still getting new phones while I'm approaching 2 years using my Ace 2."

I don't even know how old an Ace 2 is. I just know it's so damn old that they don't sell phone covers for it anymore. That's how you know it's an ancient phone model.

About 5 hours after I tweeted that, I got a pleasant surprise. My aunt and my mom had gotten me a new phone as an advanced birthday present. And it was a freaking S5!!!

I haven't gotten a new phone in ages, I just didn't know how to react. It was a huge jump from Ace 2 to S5 though, so once I was able to use it, I realised how awesome it actually is. That's when my reaction went up a notch.

5 things about my new phone that make me realise how shitty my previous phone was.

1. First things first, I can now see emoji!!! Real life emoji that I can choose from in my own keypad, other than on Whatsapp. And I can see and use them on Twitter and Instagram, gosh. You have no idea how much that excited me!

2. The camera's quality was so good!!! In the past I was always getting worked up over a mere iphone's camera quality, but this was way better! And that selective-focus thing just made me fall in love.

3. I could see gifs and vines on Twitter. Yes, in my previous phone, I couldn't see those because 'this media cannot be played'. I could only see them on my laptop. The day I discovered vines, I smothered my timeline with retweets of them.

4. Honestly I had no idea you could edit your photos on Instagram. I only had to use their normal filters, I didn't know the existence of all those brightness and contrast editing thing, which was way better than their normal filters lah! And also, INSTAVID!!! My Ace 2 couldn't instavid for some reason, so the moment I realised I could now do that, boy was I so excited.

5. My Ace 2 had very little memory, so I didn't download that many apps. Just the usual social media and shit. And now, with my S5, I took the opportunity to use all the apps that others have been using for a long time. I'm being so jakun with freaking vscocam right now, even though it's a simple photo editor. It's just so pretty and shit, what more with the better camera quality!!!

6. Oh, one more. The fact that there actually are phone covers for this phone being sold. And many designs too, it's just.... *.*

7. Oh, ONE more. The fact that the voice note quality is so good. It intensifies my laziness to type, because it doesn't make my voice sound so horrible as compared to my previous phone.

To end off this overly excited blog post, here are some pictures I took around my room and edited. Yes, I have pictures in my blog, but this is the only exception because it's too cool!!!

Yes, I sound like I'm promoting the S5. Silly me. I shall kill this excitement now.
*runs around the house to continue taking and editing pictures*

If rain was my friend

There are different kinds of rain.

There is the summer rain that sweetens all that is bland and brings no cold, just company.
The rain which makes you want to read a book while listening to the melody of its raindrops.
The rain which makes you want to share your umbrella with your lover, a first kiss full of gentleness and innocence.

There is the pouring rain that makes you want to stay in your dreams.
The rain that is accompanied by wind, cooling your neck and making you want to bury your face under the blanket.
The rain that intensifies your desire for that special someone, to spread warmth to them.

There is the piercing rain that stabs your skin from all over.
The rain that you walk underneath, sharp raindrops that are nothing in comparison to your internal pain.
The rain that reminds you how alone and cold you truly are, forcing your hands to be buried deep in your pockets.

There is the heavy rain that creates a din against your window.
The rain escorted by lightning and thunder wherever it goes, sudden jolts and claps of memories you want to forget.
The rain which makes you want to hide forever with your eyes and ears closed.

____

Summer rain is the tears you cry out of thought.
The innocent tears you shed when you long to be the pillar of strength for someone.

Pouring rain is the tears you cry out of gratitude.
The joyful tears you shed when you know you have all that you need in life.

Piercing rain is the tears you cry out of loneliness.
The sad tears you shed when you lose someone who means the world to you.

And heavy rain is the tears you cry out of rage.
The angry tears you shed when you realise you can't do anything about it.

Line between reality and possibility

Don't know if you've noticed, but I haven't been writing in as regularly.
Don't know if you know, but that's because I've been so damn busy.
Reading books.

I've borrowed tons of books from the library in September, and since they had due dates with them I rushed to read them all. I still have 10 more to go, heh.

I'm just blogging now because I've had these thoughts over the past few days or maybe weeks.

So I read this book called Pivot Point by Kasie West, a paranormal YA. This paranormal world where people have 'abilities'; our main character Addie has the ability to Search; when faced with decisions to make, she is able to see into the futures for each choice.

When her parents got a divorce, she had to choose between staying in the paranormal world with her mom, or move to the real world with her dad. So of course, she decides to see into both futures. The chapters alternate between each futures.

During her Search in the future with her dad, she meets this boy named Trevor. A normal boy, with no abilities, considering he's from the real world. At one point of the Search, Addie decides to tell him all about her ability, all about the paranormal world.

They're having that loving moment, him cupping her face in his hands and she looking at him adoringly when Trevor asks; "Addie, what if this is a Search? What if now, this very moment, isn't set in stone. What if you're just seeing a vision of what could be?"

That caused some bomb of realisation to explode somewhere in my head. The thought of a moment being something less than a reality. A moment being just a dream, or a daydream. That it was never real, or that it will never be real.

Addie chose the future with her mom, so she never met Trevor in the same way as in her Search. In the sequel, Split Second, she goes to live with her dad in the real world during her holidays, and there she does meet Trevor, but in a completely different way.

Can you imagine having someone you shared moments and love with, staring at you like you're just a stranger? Another thought that ripped my heart out. To have Addie being the only one who 'remembers' all that time spent together.

Sure, it was just a Search, nothing more than a daydream, but it was also a potential future. It was going to happen for sure if she had chosen that path, and yet just as easily those moments could be violently taken away.

I don't know what you think of it, but it kinda scared me to think about it. To live in a moment only to imagine that it isn't set in stone, that it could be just a daydream.

Think of it this way, it's like having grown 20 years and then waking up as a baby, having all those years as a mere dream you were having. All those times you had fallen down, fallen in love, laughed and cried and all those friends you made were just a vision of the future. And now that you're back in reality, it's not confirmed that you'll have all that at all.

It's exactly like how sometimes the line is blurred between reality and Dreamworld. [if you know the problems I have with my nightly dreams] One second I'm very sure that's reality, and then I wake up to realise no, I was just dreaming.

Makes me question every moment that I breathe when I'm awake. I've read 4 books since then, and I'm still lost in the thought that right now, this moment, may or may not be real at all.

Don't know if I may seem like I'm babbling, but these are just the thoughts that came when I read those books. I'm getting goosebumps now.

Finding a home in my school

Another reason I'd dreaded my birthday this year was because it was the same day my exam results would be released. I didn't really bother to check them, because I knew what to expect, and because I didn't want that to ruin my day. Kinda shallow of me, I know.

Just a few days ago I did went to see though, just for the heck of it. Alas, I couldn't even see my exam results because I hadn't paid my school fees yet. So what to do? Couldn't do much, so I just laid back and tried to forget it.

The very next day I got a text from the ECE [Electronics and Computer Engineering] office, informing me there was a due date if I wanted to appeal. That was when I knew what my supposed fate was.

One of the rules from my school was that, if you're retaking a module and you fail it for the second time, you'll straight get dismissed. I somehow knew I failed Daeln again, and it was no surprise to me anyways.

So today, I'd gone to Ngee Ann Polytechnic to appeal against my dismissal.

I had to write a letter explaining why I wanted this chance to stay in NP. When I held that pen in my hand, believe me I wanted to spill my heart out onto the paper. I didn't have the courage then, and all I could write was that I want to try again because everyone around me are having their hopes on me, including myself, and that I'm not ready to give up just yet.

I'm writing this post now to spill my heart out for real, about why I love NP and why I'd like to stay in this school until I graduate with a diploma.

The taxi ride was silent, just my mom sitting in the passenger seat and me behind the driver, staring out the window. The PIE was so familiar to me, reminded me of my trips to and fro school everyday. It felt like a long time since I had that view.

I couldn't stop staring at the bracelet from Loy, one of my semester 2 classmates. It was a gift from her in the beginning of year 2, all the way from her hometown in Cambodia. My thoughts went on to the other few friends I'd made during my short time in poly.

Mom was walking to and fro everywhere, from the Student Services Centre to the Engineering office to the Student Services Office, what a headache. I took the time to walk around the Engineering buildings, the halls and the smells all too familiar to me. I could close my eyes and find my way around easily.

During school it was a dreadful thing to be walking there alone among the crowds, because I'd always felt judged by everyone. But walking along the halls today with few souls in sight made me realise how I actually liked being in my school. 

I walked past Block 4, where my semester 1 classmates and I had first met one another's eyes. How we were forced to sit in a circle and trace each other's existence into our hearts. 

I remember locking eyes with Susan, who sat opposite me, and quickly looking away without even smiling. How Shihui was right next to me, always moving her head downwards to let her hair cover her face. How I thought they were all super weird, all of them. 

I went on walking past Co-op, where the whole lot of us would always sneak away to during class to buy snacks. Where, a year later, I was standing beside, drunk and in tears about my break-up with Shihui trying to calm me down.

The offices at Block 8, where my EngMec teacher had invested so much of his time into giving some of us an extra tutoring. Repeating his lessons again and again to make sure we understood. 

The poolside canteen, where I first had many awkward lunches with my classmates of 1A1. The benches outside the canteen where I'd sat with them, studying our asses off during final exam period.

I thought of the times I walked down the halls alone during school. How I'd only occasionally stop to shyly say hi to someone I used to have classes with. I thought of how I always wanted to see someone I know just so I could remove the frown I always wear on my face, and have a reason to give a genuine smile. 

I thought of the few friends I'd made during the past 3 semesters. The way they might have seen me and what they might have thought of me. It kinda saddened me to think of the way we got along back then, to know I wasn't part of their circle anymore. 

Shihui was probably the only one I still entrusted my thoughts with, the only one I could be weird with. I'd never forget how she had so much faith in me. How we only got closer in semester 2 when we were chucked onto the same boats. 

How Susan was the one who never stopped believing in me and being there for me from the very moment she asked me what my name was. I kept letting her down and she got dragged into my mess so much last year but she always greeted me with a smile when we got into separate classes. 

I felt like I'd let them down. 

I need to stand my ground, I need to stay in school, I want to try again. 

Walking in the halls of Ngee Ann is an all too familiar feeling for me, and I'd be lost if my feet aren't touching the grounds of my school anymore. I'd feel so lost if I don't see these people anymore, if I don't sit in the Atrium or the library, or get frustrated with the crowds of the Engineering blocks.

God, maybe my school is my second home after all. I'd spent most of my days in there ever since I'd enrolled last year, I don't see myself being anywhere else. Not in another school, not in any workplace. I'm too used to waking up in the mornings, long bus journeys which cause me to be late most of the time, classmates which I never talk to surrounding me. I'd feel so lost without these. 

If I ever get to stay in NP, if they give me another chance, I'd use the sense of home and familiarity of my school to push me into graduating with a goddamn diploma. I will only accept leaving behind this school properly.

First-half September reads

I'm gonna talk about books now, since my past month and few weeks have pretty much revolved around my reading.

I'm including you in by writing this in third person, so you can imagine yourself as the protagonist of the stories ^^

1. Matched - Ally Condie

You are born in a Society which controls your every move in life. Who you love, what you eat, when you die.

When you turn seventeen, you are bestowed upon your Matching Ceremony, in which the Society pairs you up with someone they think is your perfect Match. It turns out to be your best friend from childhood.

You think your match is perfect because you've known him for as long as you can remember. Until one day you see the face of another boy also labelled as your Match. That's when you realise the Society may not be as perfect as you think.

You meet this other boy, and he knows things you aren't supposed to know. He knows how to write with his hands, while you and everyone else are only capable of typing on your tabs.

You realise you have a decision to make.

If you choose to love the boy you grew up with, you are going according to the Society's wishes. If you choose to love the boy who can show you a different side of the world, you are going against the Society.

It's an invitation to war, but a part of you knows it's worth it to fight, so you can do the one thing you've never done: choose your life.

2. Monument 14 - Emmy Laybourne

You are on the way to school on the school bus, along with other students from your high school. Earlier that morning, you'd rushed from home to catch the bus, never stopping to say bye to your mother even.

Your peace is disrupted when hail falls from the sky. The hail increases in size, creating dents on the roof of the bus, toppling it over even. You take shelter beneath a seat while you watch the chaos around you.

The teacher from another school bus is trying to gather everyone she can. The few survivors that remain are driven into the nearest building: a hypermarket called Greenway. The gates and doors close shut behind you, and you try to register what just happened.

You gather around one of the television sets in the electrical department, and you get news about what's happening outside.

There have been escalating disasters going on, from mega tsunamis to a chemical spillage. It's not safe to be outside.

You take a look around the other survivors. They are six high school kids (some popular, some not), two eighth graders and six little kids, as young as five. You guys are trapped while chaos ensues outside; sure, you may be stuck in a hypermarket which ensures you are well-supplied, but how long more can you--all 14 of you--survive?

3. Reboot - Amy Tintera

Five years ago, you were shot three times in the chest.

178 minutes later, you awaken as a Reboot: faster, stronger, less emotional. The longer Reboots are dead, the less human they become when they awaken. At 178, your number is the highest, making you the deadliest Reboot.

You are a soldier serving Human Advancement and Repopulation Corporation (HARC), where you meet the next newbie you are training. His number is 22, making him the lowest and practically human compared to you.

You are irritated with his many questions, his slow reflexes, his never-fading smile. When he refuses to obey an order, you are told to eliminate him if you can't get him in line.

Being the perfect soldier, you've never gone against an order before; but there's something about 22 that makes you think twice about your place. Makes you feel human. Makes you feel down for being looked up to only because of your high number. Makes you want to rebel against everything you've ever known.

____

The Monument 14 trilogy especially was SO good, trust me.

Poem about time

Time is waiting in the dark;
Observing what may be called art.
Time is sitting by the hourglass;
Watching the sand fall as the seconds slowly pass.

Time is racing against the clock;
Deafened by the crow's caw.
Time is slowly forgetting names;
Dust gathering in the photo frames.

Time is not awaiting the future;
Looking at the clock through the mirror.
Time is the waves never reaching your feet;
Not knowing the definition of speed.

Time is staring at the one you love;
Counting the infinity stars above.
Time is finding tears in a smile;
A centimetre becoming a mile.

Time is the definition of suddenly;
Compared to the meaning of immediately.
Time is avoiding the speeding cars;
Only God knowing the due dates for these scars.

Time is your enemy suddenly loving you;
A newborn taking decades just to turn two.
Time is the cracks in a mural;
Awaiting the guests at my funeral.

____

Wrote this poem in 2010, it still hits me in the heart everytime I read it.

Birthdays, past and tomorrow

19th September, 2008. 

I wasn't sure what was going on, but my best friend wouldn't let me go home. She made me wait at Burger King for more than an hour, though I had no idea why.

When it was apparent that whatever it was wasn't gonna turn up, she brought me to the third floor, to More Than Words. I waited outside, staring at people in the distance, recognising a Hai Sing student as one of my primary school classmates.

My best friend exited the store and presented to me an envelope. I opened it to see her tiny handwriting on the front of a card; it was my birthday that day. "Happy 13th Birthday E'indah :D", it said. I nearly teared up.

I asked her what it was that she'd made me wait for, but she wouldn't answer. I tried not to be sad, but it was already eating away at me. We parted at the bus interchange, and I went straight home, trying not to cry the whole way.

As usual, nobody greeted me when I stepped into the house. It just hit my emotions a lot harder, and as stupid as it sounds, I lied down on one side of the bed and bawled my eyes out.

After an hour, I got a text from my mother, telling me to go down to where she was at. I refused, because I wasn't in the mood, but she scolded me to listen to her. So I did, as much as I didn't want to.

I found her at the community centre and greeted her with a scowl on my face. She told me to head on to the second floor, for unknown reasons, but I wasn't in the mood to wonder why so I just did as told.

The first thing I heard was my favourite song at that year playing. I went to the pillar in the middle to see a purple package with my name on it. I was a little confused until I saw two girls creeping up on me.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" they exclaimed. I was still in a state of shock, but when I registered what just happened, the first thing I did was cry. They laughed at my silliness and commended, "Asal kau nangis!? Jangan kental ah!" I couldn't help smiling at that.

That day, I received tons of birthday wishes from my classmates in school and through texts. My first birthday of secondary school, and it was nothing but sweet.

19th September, 2010.

My 15th, my third birthday of secondary school. 3 of my friends had brought me out to eat Mad Jack, which I so happily devoured. In the middle of the meal, one of them asked the other in Chinese, "When do we give her?", probably talking about a present. I chuckled to myself because they didn't think I understood.

They brought me up to the 4th floor of the mall, where the photobooths were at. That was probably the last time I ever took photos there because the place shut down a few years later.

I was rained down upon with presents later. I still remember what they were up to this day; a handmade bracelet from Siying, a pair of headphones from Shushan, Sticky candy from Pearl.

We went to the park afterwards, with the intention to cycle. Because I didn't know how to, my best friend Siying spent her time teaching me. I was still a complete failure at the end of the day but she didn't stop trying.

The next day, 20th of September, I went to get Cinammon Melts after school with the Malay girls of the clique, Asleah, Farizah and Sabby. After plenty of chit-chat and laughter at McCafe, we went to get slurpees and walked over to the pond beside the mangrove.

We spent all our time taking photos, and after a while somebody got the crazy idea of a birthday bash for me. They eyed a row of water taps along a brick wall outside the toilet, and without warning, they filled their Slurpee cups with water and splashed the contents all over me.

I'd thrown away my cup so I didn't have anything to defend myself with. Water was thrown all over me and I was laughing away with them but it was so, so cold!!! I tried to run but my stamina wouldn't help me, til eventually I just let myself get destroyed.

I was soaked by the time the sun was setting, drenched and shivering, but it was the best birthday ever. A birthday that had spread over 2 days with all the important girls of my life.

19th September, 2012. 

I was dreading this day. My 17th. My parents and I hadn't been on good terms for a while, and I knew they were too egoistic to put that aside to spend time with me. Also, I'd left my best friends earlier that year about 6 months before, a fall-out which I didn't put my own ego aside for.

It was my first ever birthday alone, and I allowed it to be spent with someone who was using me. A day that should have been happiness and gifts ended up in the spill of tears and first blood.

Later on in the afternoon, someone came knocking on my door. It was Sabrina and Shushan, probably the nicest and the most forgiving in the clique. Despite how shitty I'd been toward all of them, they took effort to come over and bring me out.

I cried seeing them there on my doorstep, I cried reading the long birthday card from Sabrina. She was never emotional, never one to speak her mind, but she spilled her heart out to me in her letter.

How I'd appreciated it, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that it was too late.

That was when I declared my hatred for birthdays. I promised myself never to utter the words "happy birthday" to anyone ever again, because those words when said to me never made me feel any better.

19th of September, 2013. 

A year since I last spoke with my parents, of course they wouldn't wish me, much less take me out. I rarely went out with my aunt too, so I didn't mind that she couldn't bring me out.

At this point I'd patched up with the girls from secondary school, but they were all too busy with their own things, of course. Everyone worked, or had assignments, or projects. I understood, and I really wasn't expecting anything from anyone, so it was okay.

The wind called me to wish me, but when he said he couldn't come to Singapore to bring me out, a part of my heart broke. I told him it was okay, because it really was.

I had nothing to do, and my grandmother kept making comments about how birthday girl was spending her day alone and at home, so I went to blog. I blogged about the exact reasons why I hated birthdays, right out from my 17th and from my heart.

The wind read everything and he ended up getting angry at me, because "You just had to make me feel more guilty." We got into an argument just minutes before my birthday ended.

18th of September, 2014. 

So here I sit, staring at the clock, daring it to turn midnight. I can't remember the last time I wished someone 'happy birthday'. Maybe I improved from it a little, because I did acknowledge some birthdays, like how I'd gone out with Mom on hers and sang "22" for Zye on his twenty-second.

But I told myself I don't want to accept anymore acknowledgement for my own. I've told maybe just one or two new friends about my birthday, most of whom have left my life and probably wouldn't give a shit tomorrow.

Even most of my Heroines don't know when my birthday is. I've seen how chaotic it gets when another member has their birthday. Wishes and surprises. It's scary; even scarier if they do know my birthday but not care about it. One of the reasons I dread my own birthday.

I don't know if I have the balls to face tomorrow. I don't know if it's time for me to cherish my birthday again. I don't know if I should tell Heroine that I'm turning 19 tomorrow, if I should take that one step towards having a normal relationship with birthdays again.

It's so scary, it really is. Nobody would understand this weird feeling I have for birthdays, and that saddens me. I'm too scared to acknowledge my 19th, my 20th, my 21st... I'm too scared to risk cherishing it when I'm not even sure if others would.

Hurricane Aamir

In this quite confusing post, I am retelling the tale of the wind that swept me off my feet. I've copied and pasted my past posts and poems, retelling a story through them. This is a closure to my path with someone I was with for a year, who took me for a ride again and again. 

If it gets confusing:

italics are text from a past blog post, written at the time it happened. 

Courier are text in the perspective of the wind.

Bold are taken from poems I'd written to briefly describe my feelings. 

normal are text I am writing right now, in telling the story.

I'm trying my best to tell this story without much new content, because I'm quite sick and tired of writing about the same asshole again and again. This is a closure, to remind myself and show others how cruel this innocent face really is. Or you can go this link for more shit [posts labelled 'Aamir]

Also, this post is fucked up because it's shit from my head. That's always fucked up, but I'm just too pissed off at his cruelty and my stupidity. 

Four, crooked teeth, lines above the smile;

Held hands and fought for love far longer than a while.

Convinced and believed, worked hard for forevermore;

Until the day "I just don't love you anymore."

January, 2014. 

Two days after our first year together, he said we were meeting for the last time. I did not get what that meant, but I had hoped I could make him change his mind. I tried to write a letter, but I had lost that skill. My handwriting was in shambles, and I did not know what I was saying so I tossed it aside.

You weren't missing her as much as you used to;

The flame that was burning for her had turned blue.

She wasn't moving you the way she was before;

You just didn't love her anymore.

I went up to him with a frown on his face. I did not deserve that. He brought me somewhere we could talk, and once we were seated I just lashed out whatever was on my mind. 

You woke up the next morning without her in your head;

No recollection of all the things she had said.

Forgotten the things she had done for you;

Forgotten the days she had planned for two.

And I still did not understand when he just said he had "lost his feelings" for me. I thought I did my best to make him happy and listen to him and to not pull him further from God anymore. I thought I gave him space and checked on him sometimes and not be a bitch when he made me upset, I thought I did everything I could, why would he suddenly say that?

It was all I could do to persuade him I'll try harder, harder than I ever had if he weren't pleased with my efforts. I was trying not to cry but that was an absolute failure, like my persuasions were.

A veil across your eyes to her good side;

Yet convinced it was all along that you'd been blind.

Two arms wrapped around yours, tears down your uniform;

No guilt in you, walked away from your own storm.

I hated how he got up when I wasn't finished talking. I'm not sure when, but at one point when he told me to accept his decision, it was all I could do not to wail. I interlocked his arm with both of mine and kept wailing, "Don't leave, just stay."

He shrugged me off coldly and walked away. I never saw him again.

____

It was hard letting go but I did it.
I went back to my family at Pasir Ris, I made new friends, I went back to writing. Things I never had when I was with him.

The last time I had a bad break-up, it wasn't that easy. I told myself Wow, I'm pretty strong for a one-year relationship with a boy I'd adored.

It was all so peaceful for the next 6 months, until that day in July.

July, 2014. 

What if you woke up to remember why you loved her;

Would she again become part of your desire?

Would you walk with her again no matter how your legs tire;

Would you ignite again, that fire?

Today, you continue missing her. You find yourself still thinking of her, missing her, six months after you abandoned her. A part of you regret the decision of going back to the life before her, and yet you know you need to have this new start.

Would it be shrugged off as just another regret;

Would she be no more than just a girl you met?

Would it sadden you to realise what you've lost;

Or would it no longer dare be again in your thoughts?

You meet her again after half a year; there she is, as usual, waiting patiently for you to come home.

She stares at you in awe as you approach her, that longing in you to sweep her off her feet like you used to everyday. You embrace her, and she allows it, and she looks up at you with those hopeful eyes. She doesn't look one bit mad at you for abandoning her; she looks like all she cares about is the fact that she's right there in your arms.

He told me "I freaking miss you", his exact words I promise, and we met the next day. Broke fast together, caught up on each other's lives. He told me he found it difficult to move on from me, unlike the past crushes he'd had. Convincingly asked me "Do you think we're made for each other?"

He told me a lot of things which I believed, and when he asked if I would like to start over again with him, I said yes. 

A second chance, Four times two makes Eight;

His love never forgotten, he thinks we're joined by fate.

____

Two steps into a new beginning, he decides he isn't ready;

I hide my upset, understand and accept whatever his need.

Two days after he came back, he told me he wasn't ready, that he wanted to be just friends. To be lifted up like that only to be let down again, of course I was saddened. I thought it was cruel, but I told myself it's okay. I have to understand it's what he needed.

We continued talking after that and we even met a few times, just as friends. I mingled around and I met someone I really liked who was Ghost-Type, but was not as familiar with as I was with the wind. I didn't give the Ghost a chance at this point.

Two weeks later the wind asked me once more, if I would like to be his girlfriend... again.

Raising my arms and letting my feet go light;

Closing my eyes shut despite my fear of the night.

Having faith in the breeze running through my hair;

Allowing it to lift me and take me anywhere.

I was scared that he'd hurt me again, but I was always brave enough to try again.
I said yes, I would.
I had to reject the Ghost and the block of Ice, both of whom would never hurt me like how the wind had done, twice.

Hanging in the eagle's arms, hands around its neck;

Not an inch afraid, believing it's got my back.

Hair over its shoulders as I'm brought across the skyline;

The pair of wings on its back is as good as mine.

I thought I was a brave person. This boy had hurt me two times, and yet I still had faith in him to carry me once more. I believed with all my heart and soul he would never let me down again. I even promised his best friend I'd make sure he would never lose interest in me again.

Taking me away to places new and old;

Faith to protect me from the fall or cold.

Caught up in the euphoria and in your laughter;

Forgetting the possibility of what would come after.

Because we were together for a year, we were familiar with each other. I was familiar with him. Deep inside I was grateful I didn't have to start over again with someone else, that I was starting over with someone who already knew me. And I trusted him with my life.

The wind turns into ice sliding down my spine;

Shards of cruelty stabbing into the heart that's mine.

The arms around me quickly releasing their hold;

I didn't know the flames of Hell could be so cold.

I was wrong.
I was not brave, I was stupid.

He let go of me again, told me he didn't want me after all. That he didn't know what he was doing when he asked for me back. He even mentioned he liked someone else, and that that person liked him back too, and that's why he was thinking twice about getting back with me again.

He dropped me for the third time in a year, second time in a month. How cruel.

Broken legs and a twisted neck as I hit the ground;

Continuously admiring you in flight, withholding all sound.

I told him it was okay, and I continuously told myself it was okay, even though I was having so much difficulty holding in the tears. There he was, free and probably happy while God I thought I was gonna die.

All I'd done for him and all the faith I had in him and all the chances I gave him; I gave him all I had and even that wasn't enough for him.

Puddle of blood the only reminder I was once alive;

A raging fire, once in control over this knife.

Watching your wings being your strength to be gone;

Your happiness and freedom being the last I set eyes on.

The last time I talked to him was when he confided in me about the girl he likes. He was mindlessly going on about someone else the way I would have talked about him. God it hurt so bad but I just listened. Not for long though because I cracked a while after.

He said "I promise I will never hurt any girl anymore like how I hurt you," and was insulted when I pointed out the fact that he never keeps his promises.

God I had to hurt so many good guys because I stupidly chose this asshole.

It was the last time I talked to him, and it was when I learnt to close the windows so the wind can never come in again. The wind just wants a room to hide in, to protect himself from himself, that he doesn't care whose house it is as long as he's away from the outside world.

Don't go knocking on people's windows if all you want to do is make a mess of everything and leave again. Think twice before you decide to come back or do anything at all.

P.s. I'm not doing a check on this post like I do with the others, so if you think it's crappy and messy I don't fucking care.