A bit of social anxiety left

So the whole back row in my Thursday EG2 lecture are unrelated people. Most of us being repeats who have no one that we know in that classroom, we sit together but we have nothing to do with each other.

Today there was only one other kid and I, 2 out of the usual 5 people. One of them is my UR classmate that has never talked to me personally before, another being a classmate whom I've been in the same classes with since last sem. [Ok so maybe in a way we are related in life but still]

As usual once we were dismissed I was the first out of class while everyone was still taking their time to pack and chit-chat. I saw someone struggling to open the door, and since I was walking out I helped her, thinking she wanted to come in or something.

I didn't recognise the girl on the other side as one of my lecture classmates, so I thought she was looking for someone in my class. But she started talking to me. I didn't quite catch what she said, and she repeated: "Have you finished class?"

A little confused, I answered that yeah, I'm done, and she responded with this smile on her face: "Can you help us take a picture?" and I was like oh shit... Me?

Of course me. Because I just had to be the first out of the class ._.

So I walked into the opposite classroom with her, where her classmates were gathered at the front of. By this time I was freezing and really badly wanted to pee, and because I felt out of place I started to shiver. My knees and hands were shaking, and I had to put down my laptop just to be able to hold the girl's phone.

I guess I still had a bit of that social anxiety huh?

Once everyone was looking at me smiling I quietly said: "1... 2... 3..." and when I got to 2 my lips were already quivering, it just felt so scary suddenly, being in the middle of everyone's attention. I took another one, telling them to "Okay, this one with posing ah."

Their teacher threw more attention onto me by stating: "Hey, why don't you smile while taking our picture??" which kinda didn't make sense cause I'm not in the picture, why should I be smiling? But that comment just made me smile a little, which made my knees shake a lot more.

When I was done snapping the pictures I said Okay, done, and the teacher said again: "You need to smile more, you look so beautiful when you smile!" so I said thank you, and the girl from before said cheerfully too as I was leaving, "Thank you!" and a chorus of thanks from the others came as well.

And oh god... My knees and hands were shaking so bad, lips quivering like I was about to cry. I said welcome with a smile but I really hope they did not see me shaking. And I really hope the photos did not turn out blurry, no thanks to my shaking hands.

That was quite an experience in less than 3 minutes. Who would have thought I'd still have a bit of that anxiety from years ago? My god... It was so scary, I swear.

And then I walked to the atrium and had sudden diarrhea and now I feel like vomiting until I can shake no more x_x

READ ONLY IF U WANNA FEEL GUILTY

I should already be used to this by now. More than one year with you and you've already done this so many times so why do I bother getting hurt? Why the hell do I keep bringing myself to tears just thinking about it? Hmm I can actually think of plenty reasons.

***don't read if you don't wanna feel guilty blah blah blah. If you go ahead and read it don't come to me complaining 'you just had to make me feel more guilty' like you always do.

Maybe because we already made plans for today a week before.

Maybe because you kept saying "yay can finally see you on Monday" which made me believe we were both looking forward to it.

Maybe because I was already excited for it from Friday, and felt like the weekend was so tortuously slow, but I felt it'd be worth it once it was over.

Maybe because when it was finally Monday I was so happy because I could finally see you, after our short time together the last time we saw each other.

Oh maybe because that time was short due to your fault too, because you decided to spend it with someone else instead. Yeah sure I understand that it was your best friend, but you even spent the night at his place. You could have stayed with me a while longer instead of chasing me off considering you spent so long by his side.

Maybe because I was so mad at you the last time we met and I thought I could finally have a good day with you.

Maybe because I wore my freaking adorable new tshirt that I wanted to show off to you and also because I wanted you to try it so I'd know if you could wear this size because you wanted one for yourself too and I wanted to make the freaking order for you.

Maybe because I wore my hair in a stupid ponytail which I knew you'd like.

Maybe because the reason you gave was "I'm having a headache and feeling kinda sick", and that was enough for you not to bother, when just last week I fetched you from work two days in a row even with my freaking fever and migraine and sore throat, and when I was going back home afterwards I had a terrible nausea, because I have this thing where I always puke whenever I'm sick (since young) and the milkshake just made things worse.

Maybe because today was a perfect day, which even you said so since you were having an off day and I ended at 10, and you have tomorrow off as well so you'd still be able to rest, and you were so excited for it too and I thought it'd actually happen.

Maybe because I am doomed to have a terrible end-of-the-week coming because I'm gonna be working with an asshole, and so I was hoping I'd at least have 1 good day with you before things went to shit.

Maybe because I was already feeling stressed inside and I was trying to keep it to myself but you just had to make all the emotions spill over.

Maybe because you kept saying "you're so selfish, stop making me feel so guilty" even though I said it was okay when you announced you weren't coming after all.

Maybe because I didn't want to say all this to you just so you wouldn't feel guilty which just made it worse because it was all collecting inside of me instead.

Oh and maybe because you got mad at me for being down about it, and you even ended the conversation with a fucking "Fuck you".

Yeah I think I know why I'm mad at you. And now you know too, good for you. Tell me again how girls never tell their boyfriends what's the problem?

Thoughts harboured from If I Stay

You know, I love books but to be perfectly honest I'm embarrassed when reading a well-known and popular novel in public. Shit like The Fault In Our Stars or anything by John Green, I find myself not wanting to be caught dead reading those.

I'd wait until the hype around it is dead before I even pick up reading it, and same goes for If I Stay. I started reading it today though I'd watched the movie when it came out. And now I'm embarrassed to say I am one of those girls who loves this book and its film.

The book itself touched me especially thinking about my parents and little brother, the love of my life and my passions and dreams. I pictured mommy and dadda gone, dead on impact, bodies being zipped up in a black bag. I imagined 'Aamir in a bed, tubes plugged into him and his heartbeat beeping from a machine.

And then I imagined if it was me in Mia's place, caught between the choices of staying and leaving. I thought of my dreams of becoming a writer, unfulfilled as long as I don't wake up. I thought of a world without my parents and little brother, how I'd have no will to live without them.

I remember when I so badly wanted an oblivion last year. How I wanted so badly to die more than anything, not caring about whether I was even ready to meet my maker. That changed when I realised the beauty of life, all its happiness and heartbreak, all its laughter and pain.

I picture myself gone, and I can't stand the thought of those few people who would visit my page in hopes that I'd written a new post, the friends I've stopped talking with who might wish they could talk to me again.

The thought of my books sitting on my shelves, collecting dust as no one reads them, the cats at the carpark waiting for the strange girl who would talk to them, the lecturers calling out my name for attendance and asking my equally clueless classmates about my whereabouts.

The thought of my grandmother and aunt in the hospital room crying over the potential loss of their granddaughter/niece. The thought of 'Aamir holding my hand, praying for me to wake up, my best friends from secondary school sitting at my bedside talking to me.

I have tears in my eyes just thinking of these images. The thought of leaving everything behind itself is painful, even though I'm already sick and tired of some things, like school and work.

Maybe this isn't just a constant reminder for myself, but everyone should know that life is worth it. Continuing to live your life shouldn't even be a choice, it's definite you have to keep going as long as you're able to.

I don't have the balls to say this to you straight, but pain and happiness are part of each other and you can't live with only one of them. You may be in deep sadness tonight but I'm sure within this week you've had moments where you laughed like there was no such thing as heartbreak.

The next time you shed blood, remember that it's a sign of life. That blood that slides down your arm is a sign that you're alive, and as long as you breathe, continuing your life as it is will always be worth it. You need to keep feeding your hope instead of giving so much attention to your pain.

Don't throw your life away, because even if the boy you like doesn't care, even if you think your parents don't, even if none of your friends ever asks if you're okay, you will always have family, and it doesn't have to be people because what you want to do in life is also enough reason to keep fighting.

I sound like I'm babbling but everything I've written has been harboured from my heart. I have tears in my eyes now and I'm trying hard not to let any drip. I'm writing this for myself, for a certain girl that I know is in pain, and for anyone else who feels like there's no more hope.

Hungover from 2014

It's been nearly 3 weeks, but I'm still hungover. I still feel as drugged as Lewis Carroll when he wrote Alice in Wonderland. I'm still overwhelmed with all of 2014, and even though I haven't properly settled in this new setting, I'm still sad to let the year go.

I never really went through the stuff I did, only wrote notes to the people I met/interacted with. [read it here and find your name if you haven't already, or you can read the whole post because it kinda makes a story.]

So today I thought I would write the adventures I had...

January.

'Aamir left;
I met Danny;
Shan and I drank at Holland Village and had good long talks;
I got my septum piercing [which hurt very much];
I studied with Azim at SP frequently;
I had my last interactions ever with Mel and Naqib;
I went home to Pasir Ris;
I saw my paternal relatives after 2 years, greeted non-stop about how they haven't seen me forever;
I started wandering, and wondering, to find and realise where home was.

February.

I started interacting with people from school, namely the people from my Daeln Lab;
I found friendship in Yazid, and we talked by the beach about misadventures;
I joined the Whatsapp group society, my first one being Estfut;
Heroine soon after, when Naz tweeted if anyone wanted in;
Heroine had its first group meeting at a rooftop beside Kallang station;
I started seeing how pretty Singapore is, and fell in love with her backbone [the MRT lines] and her curves [the expressways].

March.

I discovered the Booktube community and started collecting books again;
I got infatuated with another writer even though it didn't last long;
I went on a foodhunt with 4 other Heroines and took so many pictures together;
I wanted to make videos about my love for roads;
Yazid brought me around his hometown Sengkang;
some of the Heroines and I got crazy drunk and we broke the entire group;
my dreams started to get worse, and I waited every night til the sun rose before I dared sleep.

April.

Hazim and I explored Woodlands, taking random shots of each other and the scenery;

I was introduced to Ariff, and it was us and Hazim against everyone else;

I started year 2, even though I was still stuck with year 1 modules;
I caught Asleah's performance at NYP's Club Crawl with Farizah and our other secondary school friends;
I saw Luqman after months and found myself noticing and thinking of him more;
I made friends with Elin, and she taught me the power of forgiveness.

May.

I became good friends with someone who was the opposite of me but was the best support;
I was lucky to experience the feeling of having a crush and even had the chances to watch a movie with him and even sent him home;
NYP became my second home, even more so than my own school;
I hung out with Farizah a lot, and we talked about so many things those few days;
I had an admirer who felt for me what I felt for another, whom I constantly treated like how I was treated;
I realised I couldn't be with the person I liked because he was too fragile for me;

I cried over a book that reminded me of how I would never experience a first love again.

June.

I had our 6th Annual Reunion with Sabrina, Siying and Shushan;
Ramadan's first day was on June's last, which I'd spent with my granny at Paya Lebar.
[funny that I can't seem to remember much from this month, and it doesn't help that there're no photos or blog posts from the 9th to 25th]

July.

I experienced an unusually cold day, and deducted I was Fire-Type;
we discovered and cried over the existence of an unplanned family member, though never in front of each other;
I hid in the toilet when my big brother threw an extension socket at dad, causing a screamfest in the house, minutes before buka;
I watched him leave the house and wanted just to die as tears fell down my parents' and little brother's faces, the Azan playing in the background;
I finally had courage to be frank with the river about our incompatibility;
'Aamir came back telling me he missed me and asked if we could start over;
I said yes and we hugged when we met, but the next day he left again because he wasn't ready;
I celebrated Hari Raya with my parents and brothers again after 2 years.

August.

I spent an evening with Sabrina, Siying and Shushan, eating free food samples at Expo;

I met Acap, Izni, Arie, Yat for the first time, hung out with them as well as Naz and Effa at ITE West, with Syaf coming later holding a cake for Yat's birthday;

I sat on the stairs of Woodlands bus interchange and cried so many tears because I missed 'Aamir so much;

I witnessed my big brother's solemnization ceremony and put the gold bracelet on my new sister-in-law's wrist;

After a few days of texting as friends, 'Aamir told me not to wait for him anymore because he was letting me go; 

I went Jalan Raya with Heroine, where I had loads of laughs and bonded with them, and we ended off the night with birthday songs for Zye;

I walked from Esplanade to Bayfront in the dead of the night with Arie, Aqilah and Aliff;
'Aamir asked me again at Woodlands interchange, if I would be his girlfriend;

I had to reject two hearts because I chose to be with the wind, who 4 days later left me for the third time in the year;

I found comfort in one of the two broken hearts, immersed myself in sins I called solace, in lust I called love.

September.

I wasn't able to sit for my Daeln exam, and I had a little drink at the airport, managing to drop 

the glass bottle and shatter its pieces everywhere; 

I went on a date with a Ghost, believing it was love, and even more so because it was a forbidden one;

my mom had a fall at the hospital and I spent the entire day at CGH;
my brothers and I went bowling, and I met my sister-in-law's little siblings for the first time;

I went on a solitary trip to Kinokuniya the day I turned 19, and was surprised to have received birthday wishes from the Heroines;

I went to school during the holidays to appeal against my dismissal and realised the many things about Ngee Ann that I wasn't ready to leave;

I bumped into the love of my life, and realised how much I still yearned to be with him even though someone else's arm was around me at that moment.

October.

I celebrated Hari Raya Haji with my parents and brothers, as well as a sister-in-law;
Acap and Arie were the best friends I had, always making me laugh til my belly ached;
we went to Asyiq's house to celebrate his birthday, with icing all over our faces;
I went to Halloween Horror Nights with Acap, Arie, Athirah, and Zye, stayed out late til 3 in the morning;
Elin called Acap, Arie, Zye and I to give Hanafi a birthday bash, which we all did with water and flour;
I realised how much I loved these people whom I called my best friends, my family;         

I learnt that sad love songs are meant not for lovers but friends most of the time.

November.

I realised Ghost's feelings weren't love at all;
I went to USS for Acap's birthday with Arie, Elin and Hanafi, only to realise later that it would be the last time I'd hung out with any of them;
I started working at Ben and Jerry's at Dempsey, thanks to Elin, and met new and funny people;
I went to Ion Sky with 'Aamir, walked around town and realised how easy it was to fall back with him;
Shihui told me she was withdrawing from school, and my heart broke at the thought of no longer seeing her in school;
my niece was born, and I thought she was the most wonderful thing in the world;
my grandfather had a fall and was rushed to hospital, and I spent the entire week visiting him everyday;
I realised how precious life is, and fell in love with being alive.  

December.

I met various types of cats and many interesting people while visiting my cat at the vet;
I played around with Movie Maker and found myself making a 2014 montage to Taylor Swift's Wonderland;
Shushan, Siying, Pearl, Sabrina and I met up and we bought cakes for Sabrina because it was her birthday the next day;
'Aamir and I watched Mockingjay Part 1, afterwards sitting down at Scape to have a long talk mixed with laughter and seriousness;
he declared at the end of it: "You know what, let's just fuck everyone else and be together." and so we did;
I spent New Year's Eve recalling everything about 2014, writing about everyone I'd met in the year, fingers flying across the keyboard and tears streaming down my face...

January, 2015. 

...just like now.

Thank you again to everyone who's made my year. I don't think most of them are reading this, but it's okay. I'm still so ever grateful for every single one of them, even if they're angry at me now or if they hate me or if they don't care about me loving them. I love them and I am thankful I've met them, even if our friendship only lasted a while.

If it wasn't for 'Aamir leaving me at the beginning of the year, I wouldn't have met all these wonderful yet strange bunch of people. They'll forever be in my memory, even though I'm back home with the love of my life now.

I'm so emotional I need to stop hahaha but really though, thank you everyone.

Demons

They come when my eyelashes point to my cheek
Give the illusion that I'll find what I seek
They make me run for a door that just goes further
Only to kill me awake screaming bloody murder

They're at the back of my eyelids everytime I sleep.

It forms slowly and stares quietly in my isolation
Never in plain sight it prefers hiding in reflection
Breathing down my neck, attempting to crush it next
Devouring the time I take to die from its effects

It stares at me from the mirror everytime I'm alone.

He is loved by people who have never met
Existence alone controls their actions and mindset
Voice unheard touch unfelt, they follow His every word
Just one Him to make this growing herd

His words are causing everyone to psycho me into this belief.

She has her hands drilled into the deepest of my brain
Sent her thousands young swimming through my veins
A knife down the wrist and tearing apart of skin
Won't rid me of her whispers that led my sin

They can drown you in your sleep

Choke you in your own house

Burn you in the afterlife

And most of all 

Control you 

Use your body as their own

tell you all these awful things 

until one day your sanity is gone

and you slowly 

gauge out your own eyeballs

claw out your own veins 

rip out your own heart. 

...You should be friends with them. 

Then they won't do anything awful to you. 

x

____

This poem was written for entertainment, please don't call me crazy. Just trying out different genres of writing. 

For Hafizah

I'd heard the teachers saying her name since last year's April semester. I saw her once in Daeln lab, right at the other end of the classroom but I never took notice of her much and it was the first and last time I saw her anyway.

When the October semester started, I was told that she was in my group for IB. I knew her name, but not her face, so when our teacher asked if I knew her, I just said I didn't. He told me that she knew me, so in a way, we did notice each other but never bothered to interact.

I saw her again in Digital Logic, when she walked in and straight to the back of the classroom. I was seated at the front, so I noticed her but of course, I never talked to her. She had a frown on her face and I thought she'd be the arrogant kind.

But when we first met with our other IB group member, she wasn't arrogant at all. She talked more than me, and she wasn't shy like I was, never held back whatever she wanted to say. When she stood up to leave, she smiled at me and said: "See you in Digital Logic."

This one day I was seated alone at the back of Daeln class as always, when I heard someone dragging back the chair next to me and sitting down. I looked up to see her, and she said hey. As much as I was surprised to see her choosing the seat next to mine of all places, I was happy to have someone next to me.

In the midst of all our confusion and frustration with our circuit shit, we talked a lot about ourselves. I learnt that she was one year older than me, and that she was taking the same modules as me. Again, I'd found a friend who was in the same boat as I was.

I was supposed to have tutorial after that, but I decided to skip it to get a replacement bank book. I was starting work at 6 that evening, and I needed to give them my bank account number.

I talked to her about my new job, and while we were walking out and down the hallway, I told her I was skipping my next class to head to Clementi's POSB outlet. She listened, and then she said something that made me pause: "Want me to drive you?"

I must have looked really confused, because as I looked at her she laughed and said, "Drive? I drive a car. I can drop you there."

Of course I got excited, because I'd never had a friend drive me somewhere before. I told her about how I felt like she just dropped a bomb on me, because it felt so cool and overwhelming and so sudden. Even as I was seated in the passenger seat secured with the seat belt, I was still trying to process it. It felt so cool being in that car!

I realised that she was the kind who knows how to break silence. Either that, or she just likes to ask many questions/say many things. She'd either ask me questions about myself or go on into her own rant/story-telling. It's always been fun talking to her.

She'd ask you questions which people won't usually bother about. Just like that time with our other IB groupmate, while waiting for our teacher in that uncomfortably quiet room, she just suddenly asked him: "So did you cycle during your holiday?" I wanted to laugh so bad, it was so like her to ask you questions you won't expect.

After our common tests, I got to know that she likes reading books too. It was nice knowing I could go on and on talking about books knowing she wouldn't get bored. In fact, you could talk to her about anything and she'd always have something to say or able to relate in some way.

The more we hung out the more I got to know she was another one of those friends whom you could look at and laugh because whatever they do or say is just too funny. We laughed the most in Daeln lab, the looks she'd give me when our teachers said something that just confused us more.

She was slowly becoming my best friend. She knew how I was like and accepted my weirdness and always put through with me whenever I burst out laughing in the middle of her stories. We made plans to graduate together, even though we probably felt it was nearly impossible.

If I had known last Friday was gonna be the last time I'd see her, I would have followed her to her locker instead of rushing to meet my friend.

I never saw her for the whole of this week, and I thought nothing of it, maybe she was just sick. But she's gone now, another best friend withdrawn from school. It's a huge blow, and I cried til I couldn't breathe, our time together was so short.

But it's okay. I wish her the best, and I hope I can keep going until I graduate, for her and for my other best friend who withdrew last term.

3 AM

I just woke up from a dream.

There were floods everywhere.

I saw on the news that there were so many bodies, they had to separate them into two piles.

One mountain for the bodies who drowned, one mountain of bodies who were burnt.

One body of a little boy washed up into my house, and my aunt and uncle and granny sent it off to the authorities.

They told us the body had been floating around and about all the way from Europe.

Spirits wouldn't leave us alone after that.

My aunt and uncle and granny told me to sleep separately from them.

I was sent off with my parents and brothers to "appease the spirits" and we were forced to walk through a secluded kampung that was surrounded by forest.

They told us not to speak, because our voices would intimidate 'them'.

My big brother was blind when he got married, and while walking through the forest, he asked me to tell him all about his wedding ceremony.

'They' got angry.

I woke up. And the time said 3:08. I used to be scared of the 3 AM hour because I was very sure this is when all the bad things happen, including dreams.

Now I can't help but wonder maybe I'm thrown awake because my dreamself is getting punished for the noise and they don't want me to be a witness.

Maybe bad things happen to you whether or not you're awake.

Bad things will always happen at 3 AM, just that you don't know if tonight it will be in the dreamworld or in the real world.

I feel like the queen of demons has laid eggs in my brain.

I don't feel sad at night from over thinking. Instead I go through all this shit with dreams.

I'm numb from it. I don't cry or shiver from the fear. I don't feel fear whenever I wake up from a vivid dream.

I'd like to believe I'm numb. But I believe more in the fact that my inner self is screaming in fear that 'things' are tearing her apart.  Tearing  me apart from the inside.

MAKE IT STOP PLEASE

What a goddy weak government

In every dystopian series I've read, there is always the government, the people who are forcibly put through its bullshit, and that one person trying to rebel.

I see him as the government, always putting himself in control and demanding all sorts of favours from the people.

I see them as the civilians, allowing themselves to be told what to do and doing whatever to please him, even if it tires them out.

I wish I could be the rebel who doesn't put up with the shithead government and save the people from it. But everytime I stand up against him, they tell me to stop and just please him, so he wouldn't kill us all.

The only thing he has a heart for is his own family. And by family, I don't mean the people who's raised him since he was born; no, he couldn't care less for his parents, even though they loved him so much all his life, even through all the disappointment and pain he's caused.

Only the rebel is able to see the corruption that the government is. Even from the distance shared for years, it's very obvious how he doesn't give a shit about his parents and siblings; he cares only for his wife and daughter, and the way other people would see him.

He puts up an act in front of other countries, so he'd be seen from the outside as a good guy. When in actual fact, he doesn't take care of his own people at all. He insists on giving his father-in-law money every month, when his own father who needs it more has never received a single cent from him even til now.

He announces to the world he loves his parents but on the inside, he's never done anything to help them. If anything, he sits on their shoulders while they cook for him and clean after him and provide for him, even though he should already be doing everything on his own. A man who doesn't know how to take care of himself and who depends heavily on his people cannot try to rule another country.

Anyone can see that he is only here because he needs the support of his parents. He doesn't love them at all, but he needs their money and help because he does not know how to raise a young one on his own at all. If he was just a bit more independent, they would never hear from him again.

Everytime I stand up against him, they tell me to stop. Everytime I try to make them stop doing everything for him, they say it's okay, and continue giving all their energy and help and money to him. Even with his own 2-months-old baby, he is still a heavily dependent kid stuck in the body of a 24-year-old.

He's spent a lot of money on his wife and daughter, always so initiative with them and wanting what's best for them. He never does anything for his own parents and siblings, even when my dad asks him to pay for some of the groceries or bills. He wants a PS4 and he tells his 14-year-old brother who is still schooling to pay for it.

When I look at him I can only wonder, why do good things happen to bad people? He doesn't appreciate anyone at all and yet here are all these people who're so nice to him. I wish mom would stop handing him food on a silver platter, I wish dad would stop giving him money like it grew on trees. I wish they'd stop pulling me back everytime I try to go against him.

They're scared of his anger, and I wish they weren't. They tell me he's been improving, that he's been nice to me, but one look at him and I already know how much he wishes I hadn't come back. He knows I know, he's aware of how I'm the only one in the sea of people who refuses to take his bullshit, and for that, he is waiting for the day he can make me pay.

God I hate him and I want to take him down and save all these people.

Kinda scary abusive relationships

I've been sorta obsessing over one of my modules. Maybe because it's the only one that doesn't require any calculations or measuring values or shit. It's all to do with words, which I'm very relieved about hah.

It's called Understanding Relationships, and I remember how my teacher told us on the first lesson that by the end of this module, we'd be able to choose our future partners wisely. At the time I wasn't with anybody yet, but by the second week I was already sure who was best for me.

I keep talking about the things I learnt in this module because I'm kinda obsessed. I've been debating on whether I wanna blog about the 5 languages of love thing or the stories that my teacher told me, but I've decided on the latter because I haven't exactly put the 5 tips to use xD

So yeah. 3 stories that my teacher told me yesterday, which mainly focuses on abusive relationships. Or maybe more like abuse in relationships?

There was this girl who's in badminton for her CCA in school, and she's pretty committed to it so she's always in shorts and tshirts whenever you see her. She's also got these badminton rackets sticking out of her backpack, different special ones for different purposes.

One day her boyfriend wanted to introduce her to his friends at a BBQ, and he called her up telling her to wear a dress the next day, he'd pick her up from school and go there straight. She wasn't really comfortable with a dress of course, so she made no promises, just a simple see first lah.

When he came to her school the next day and saw her coming towards him in her shorts and tshirt, he was furious. Why'd you wear that when I told you last night to wear a dress? blah blah, but he was like forget it, and they got on his bike and he sped off.

They were on the highway and he was actually supermad about it, and was even plotting some way of revenge. He decided that he would drop her off the bike, leave her stranded on the highway and come pick her up later hoping she'll learn her lesson.

He did that thing where the top of the bike goes up, so the girl would lose her grip on him and fall off. Well, she did fall off, but the thing is, her backpack got caught on his bike, and she was dragged along the asphalt.

Worse is, he didn't even realise it, and went on riding with his girlfriend's body dragging across the road behind him. A few cars honked at him and he only saw her after he turned around to see what they were honking about.

That is fucking terrifying, and she was even conscious throughout the whole thing. Been years since that happened and she's got permanent scars down the left side of her body. Her boyfriend stayed with her everyday when she was at the hospital and apparently they're still together now.

Another story is about this very pretty/hot girl who was from my school. She's apparently very good-looking, has a nice body, and knows how to dress herself up. Kind too, so very attractive in every way uh. Her boyfriend is also from Ngee Ann but he was in another school.

So she was leading this project thing where her group was made of 4 guys and 2 other girls. Her boyfriend knew how guys are all attracted to her and she was always complaining about how the 2 girls always never turn up for group discussion, so he said the next time they don't show up, you just cancel off the meeting, don't want you to be alone with those 4 guys.

When the 2 girls bailed out on them again last minute, this girl just went on with the meeting because this project is important to her. She didn't even care about how the rest of the group were guys because they were just her classmates anyway.

But her boyfriend was so freaking mad when he knew, called her up and kept accusing her of taking the chance to flirt with the guys.

They decided to meet to talk shit out, at this quite isolated Mac somewhere at Ang Mo Kio or something. Blah yadda, they talked, and when he excused himself for awhile, he went behind her and grabbed her hair.

He was sick and tired of his girlfriend attracting so many other guys, so in order to keep her to himself, he wanted to make her hideous. He took out a pair of scissors, and because she was struggling so bad, he managed to cut out a large chunk of hair, leaving behind a near-to-bald patch at the back of her head.

She had to cut it real short, and everyone in her class was so shocked to see her looking like that. And coincidentally, she was going for her Understanding Relationships module, and they were talking about abusive relationships for that lesson as well.

The poor girl broke down, and the class stopped to ask her what's wrong. When they knew about her boyfriend, everyone was trying to get her to break up with him. They were such good support, and even her teacher (which was my teacher) tried to convince her to leave him.

My teacher said even though the damage wasn't as bad, this guy is worse than the first one, because of the intentions. The guy actually brought scissors to a date; he obviously had ill intentions and was even planning it. It was all about possession, the way he didn't want anyone else to have her. And it wasn't the first time he did something like that to her.

So the last story is a bit different. I'm pretty aware that not all girls are the abused in the relationship. Girls can be pretty brutal too, or in this case, women. I wasn't paying attention much to the background story of this one, so I have to keep it short and straight to the point.

The wife saw her husband e-mailing to his secretary or something, his exact words being my wife is such a boring and annoying woman I need to get out of here and shit, so of course she got pissed off at him.

And what did she do to teach him a lesson? She bit him on his arm with all her strength.

It was quite a hard bite, to the extent that he needed a lot of stitches. When asked why had she bitten on his arm of all places, her reason was so that the next time his hand stretches out to e-mail other women, he'd see his scars and be reminded of what would happen if he proceeds.

Yeah that's it haha, I was listening to these stories so intently, if only I could pay the same attention to my other modules. I'd share my thoughts on abuse in relationships too but nevermind this post is long enough xD

Drowning in perfume

The family whom I love so much is against me. Both my brothers and my sister-in-law only look at me in disdain, and my mother only talks to me to tell me to fuck off because I am an annoying motherfucker.

"Yeah that's all you're good at aren't you," she scorns. "Fuck your mother up?"

My little brother, my best friend; he stands beside her, looking at me like I am nothing more than a cockroach. Just for a second and then he looks away, as if the sight of me is just too much to bear.

I walk away slowly, for I have no confidence in where I'm going. I see them get into a taxi, not even giving me a glance, and off they go, leaving me alone at the side of the road.

I find a train station, or at least that's what all the signs on the building are saying. The first thing I find myself in is an elevator. There's a boy my age sitting at the other end, reading a book. I sit down at my own corner, taking out my own book.

After the elevator starts moving, it takes me a while to realise that this is the train. It can move vertically and horizontally, stops at many levels and pit stops, fetching more people that have backpacks on their shoulders.

The elevator's walls are made of glass, and I can see how it's circling around the inside of the building. I see people bustling about, going in and out of shops. It's like a city within concrete walls.

The boy with the book asks me what I am reading. As I tell him the story of it, he listens attentively. I notice the book in his hands and realise it's one I've read before, and I wish to myself that he won't explain his book to me.

One of the people who have gotten on at other stops looks at me, and his expression reminds me of the looks my brother and mother had given me. "I told you not to read here, didn't I?" he has a British accent. "Put it away right now, it isn't a place to show off your smarts."

I put my book away. The first boy puts his away too, and he gives me a shy smile.

If it isn't a place for 'smarts', then what is it a place for?, I want to ask.

A robotic voice fills the elevator, telling all of us to stay together as a group. I look around me to see all boys.

The elevator door opens and everyone files out, me and the boy with the book last. I don't catch his full name for it's from another language, so I call him G. "Can I stay close with you?" he asks. I nod, because it's better than being alone in this strange place.

Honestly, the building reminds me of a mall and school rolled into one and thrown into the pits of a jungle. The east side is where all the libraries and classrooms and dorms are, while the west side has all the bookstores and department stores and cinemas. Meanwhile, grass fills the ground entirely, trees grow all over the sides, bushes take over all the walls of the shops.

We keep walking, exploring all the nooks and crannies we encounter, develop friendships with one another. G takes my hand at one point and asks if it's okay. I hold on to him for a second before muttering, "I already have someone I like."

I hold open the library door for our comrades, and while most of them thank me, the one with the British accent and another tall bulky guy snap at me to never hold open the door for them. I let the last other guy pass through before I slam the door in their faces.

It opens again and British Accent lunges at me, slamming me onto the wall with a hand around my neck. Everyone of our other group members push him off and stand in a line in front of me, creating a barrier between us. As surprising as it is, it's also touching my heart in a weird way.

"I need to go to the toilet," I say, and with a glare towards British Accent, I make my way past tables and into the ladies at the side of the room. I stare at the mirror, and I don't know where I got it, but there's a huge cut that goes from under my eye to across my cheek and down the side of it, almost like the path a tear would go. Bruises shaped like fingers circle my neck.

I go outside to find my comrades nowhere in sight. A girl who's sitting at a table looks at me and says pityingly, "They're gone, yeap. They left without you."

That's when I go frantic. I run out the library and everywhere, trying to find my familiar faces. I whip my head around at every sound, every voice I hear, hoping to see G or the other losers I was starting to love the presence of.

I stumble upon twigs and branches. I don't stop to ease the itches the bushes left where they touched me. I lean against a tree with all my strength and get up to have my forehead and cheek indented with the pattern of its trunk. I cry salty tears that enter and sting the cut on my cheek.

A toy shop I'm passing by is giving away balloons, and even in the midst of my misery I go and take one. Mine is in the shape of an elephant, as long as my arm. I am admiring it, trying to cheer myself up when I see my comrades.

For some reason, I don't run to them and hug them in joyful reunion. They look like my comrades, but they are... not. The ones I know are calm, quiet, very nerdy. These are frantic and noisy, screaming nonsense and a little bit crazy. They're jumping around on these huge teddy bears like little kids. Not like the intelligent-looking people I met.

I watch as one of them picks up a teddy bear and starts running crazy outside the toy shop, swinging it around. He knocks over people, before swinging it one last time and knocking down a shelf of perfume bottles outside the neighbouring shops.

The crash is loud and it doesn't stop until complete silence. I unclasp my palms from my ears and open my eyes to see everyone has stopped to stare. The smell of the perfumes mixing in the air is overwhelming, and I am urged to cut off my nose to make it stop.

A piece from a perfume bottle had flown at me, stabbing me right at the side of my throat. I remove it and blood drips all over my elephant balloon. I seem to be the only one moving, my breathing being the only thing I hear that it almost starts to irritate me.

The owner from the perfume shop comes out and looks at my comrade, who is lying on the ground, he and the teddy bear stabbed with pieces of perfume bottles. It's a mess of meat and blood and teddy bear stuffing.

The old man says: "It's okay, you're just a child. I understand that you can't contain your excitement. It's okay, it's okay, it's okay." and he starts sweeping up whatever glass pieces his broom can reach.

My comrade stands up slowly and says: "I'll pay you back." he turns to look at me, but I cannot bear to see how his face will look like. I turn on my heels, and my shoulders are caught in a pair of hands; G's. He repeats what our comrade has said; "He'll pay back."

I don't care. I don't want to see. I release myself and try to run, going frantic all over again and this time in silence. I hide, wanting to kill myself to stop my breathing like how you'd want to kill a baby to stop its crying.

When I finally have the courage to return to the shopping mall side of this strange building, I see a small crowd gather in front of the perfume shop. I join G at the back, and he puts an arm around my waist, gently pushing me to the front so I could see what's going on.

There's our comrade, naked and skin painted black, with his mouth attached to the bottom of British Accent, who is shoving the trunk of my elephant balloon down his throat.

The perfume shop owner stands beside, collecting money thrown to him as mine and G's friends continue performing all sorts of obscenities with each other and my balloon. I stare for a long time, for I have not witnessed anything like it before. It can't be unseen ever.

Dreaming to me is like drowning. It starts off okay, like a swim, and then you realise you're too far gone from the shore, and it gets to a point where you can hardly breathe.

Waking up from a dream is just the same as finally breaking the surface after being too long underwater. I gasp for air every morning, thankful that I was not gonna be stuck down there forever until I die.

New year resolutions that I WILL fulfill

"New year. new me" blabla I don't care, let's just get right into what the title says.

Just so you know, I seldom set resolutions for the new year and all that shit. I'm making this list only because I am very sure I'd achieve all of them! 1 year from now, I'd look back and self-praise myself for having such a fulfilling year. :D

1. Read 100 books/finish whatever book challenges
This one's already underway. I'm already completing my first book of the year, which is also on the 2015 Reading Challenge as "a book by an author you've never read before".

I'm not sure how many books I'd read in 2014, but I'm quite confident I can reach 100 for this year, because I fulfilled 50 in less than 6 months. As long as I read at least 10 books in every month, I'm all good~ I just hope I'll never get into any reading slumps.

2. Redecorate my room a little bit 
I've got this plain blank wall above my bed in my Pasir Ris bedroom, and I hate how clean it looks. I just wanna draw all over it, but I'll make do with posters. Planning to paste some South Park and Pokemon posters, and a map of Singapore on it.

I'm also really longing to buy those corkboards where you can paste stuff on using pins. Would just love to stick all kinds of photos from 2014 and 2015.

3. Revamp le wardrobe
I've been wearing the same clothes for 2 whole years, and even I'm starting to feel suffocated from it. I think that's enough said for this resolution, heh.

4. Save $1 every day 
I saw someone who did this for 2014, and I thought it was a great idea. Just hope that I can fulfill it myself though. But it's annoying that you wanna buy so many stuff when you're broke, but you've no idea what to buy when you do have lots of money.

5. I don't know, just do what makes me happy 
And at this point, a lot of things actually do make me happy! This year I shall just read books and record videos of everything and go everywhere with my wind and eat everything I like with no more worries of getting fat and blog about everyone I meet and fall in love with just everything all over again.

I'm still sad that 2014 is over because it was the ride of my life. I honestly get turned off when I see people being all moody about oh "2014 was when I learnt people will leave" blabla. If it took you so long to realise that then well y u so dum? A lot of people left me too but I'm still jumping with joy when looking back at the year I had.

I'd just go with whatever because every year is like Wonderland, you can do whatever the heck you want. I really don't mind if doing something will get me hurt in the near future, because it's just how life is.

Looking forward to what 2015 has in store for me. I'm no longer gonna be a teen, because it's the year I'm turning 20. So freaking scary.

The Wonderland that is 2014

Call me crazy but I consider myself lucky for going through so much bullshit in life. Beginning of the year, I was left by the love of my life; I'd followed my broken heart down the rabbit hole, into the Wonderland that is 2014.

I'm glad he left me, because I wouldn't have gone through all these things, be they wonderful or horrible, and not only am I thankful for him, but I will also keep the memories of this place called 2014 in my heart for as long as I live.

This year was an adventure far worse and better than anything Alice had gone through in her own Wonderland. I returned to my parents, had fights with them; I made a ton of new friends, lost just the same many; I fell in love many times, got my heart broken; I gained many new family members, lost a fair share.

Have you seen the many bracelets I wear on my left wrist? They aren't just ornaments for my hand but they have meanings to each. They were given by many different people, and I use that to represent everyone else who came into my life the same way.

If Wonderland was just a figment of a girl's imagination, then I'm glad I have these bracelets, proof that 2014 ever existed at all. I have no intention to forget anything from this year, and I will never.

A bracelet from my year 1 classmate to represent the friends who'd supported and made me laugh in poly.

I remember Loy, whom I was awkward and shy with but who helped me in Daeln. I never got a chance to show her how annoying I am, or got to know her better, but I will always remember how sweet she was to me, and I will always keep her bracelet.

I remember the boy named Aloysius whom we all called Tom. He had admired me for the way I kept going after my break-up, glad that I was still laughing with him, Loy and Shihui no matter how sad I was.

I remember how Shan listened to me at Holland, comforted me with not just words but actions too. I remember the little things he told me about himself, the story of the book he wished to write, his dreams and ambitions.

I remember how Jin asked me for my name on the second week of school, and the first thing about him that I noticed hahaha. He'd say stupid things to make me laugh, listen to what's going on in my life, confide in me what's in his.

I remember how Justin would keep turning the switches on my desk on and off just to irritate me. The really silly things he kept talking about in APPG, the way he'd ask me random questions and make fun of me for the slightest.

I remember Shafiq, how he'd always call me just to say hi no matter what, the way he'd exclaimed how nice my hair was. I appreciate the rare times I could talk with him, because we seldom see each other in school anymore.

I remember how Susan would always come saying hi whenever I'm at the atrium alone. She'd talk about the randomest things and randomest people just to update me on her life, and we'd laugh at the craziest things.

I remember Hidir, the only other person I know who loves Singapore so much. I appreciate how he'd come over to me or wait for me to actually talk to me. And the things we'd talk about; how they'd range from crazy to deep.

I remember hearing about Hafizah a lot last sem, only getting to meet her when we were forced into a group together. We'd talk about whatever came to our minds, try to control our laughter at the back of Daeln lab, make plans about graduating together.

I remember Shihui, the only one who still gets excited everytime she sees me, I can be just as silly with without being embarrassed, make me laugh without even trying. The best friend from last year when we realised we were in the same boat.

A thin red hair-tie from one of my managers, to represent the people I've worked with at my new part-time job. 

I remember the people I worked with on my first night; Amanda, Jessie, Roger, how they were patient with me even though the crowds were stressing them out. Amanda advising about future studying, Jessie answering my questions patiently, Roger telling his own struggles with studies.

I remember Naff and Alee, making work with them always fun when they bully each other; Naff with her random dancing, Alee with his random comments. How they are the only ones at work I could laugh and babble on and on with about meaningless things.

I remember everyone else; Naz and Hafian, Esther and Shuwen, the way they'd helped me with anything I was struggling with. Eri, how she'd laugh at anything, make me laugh and at the same time disciplining me to do better.

One of those loom band bracelets in gayblue, from one of the wind's secondary schoolmates, to represent the great friends lost when I lost him...

I remember Mel making me noodles when I'd ended up at her doorstep during my break-up. The words she said over and over to make sure I got it. She'd been the one who taught me that I should start living for myself rather than others.

I remember Naqib coming to Woodlands just to fetch me when I was being a stupid and sad girl. He even sent me all the way back to Pasir Ris even though he lived in Yishun, also speaking the same advice repeatedly because I was being stubborn, refusing to move on.

I remember how Farhan came to me just to ask how I was because he'd dreamt 3 bad dreams of me in a row. We had talked about our own experiences with the dreams we had at night. He was probably the only other person who'd understand my thing with the dreams.

I remember wanting to make friends with Juyani, but still feeling so embarrassed about the time I talked to her out of the blue during my break-up. I still want to make friends with her but I don't dare approach her anymore because I'm still embarrassed by that.

...and the greater friends gained when I lost him.

I remember Danny watching me sob my eyes out, comforting me even though he had difficulty with words. He'd sent me all the way to school, even waiting til I was dismissed from counseling, went through the troubles of buying me iced milo despite his social anxiety. I remember his long texts that had made me cry, his inner devastation when all I did was push him away.

I remember how Azim had called me kawaii, how he'd said I looked like a strawberry of all things, how we'd hung out at his school to 'study' when really we were just laughing at stupid things. I remember how I'd let him down, extinguished the tiny chance we could have had.

I remember the people of Estfut, making me giggle so hard to myself in the library. They were the first Whatsapp group I ever had, and I never got to be close to them because of a fall-out with one of them but I remember everyone and all the things we'd talked and raged about.

I remember Roshan, how he'd been so sincere in his feelings for me. How he liked me so much to the extent that he thought I was the one. I'm so grateful he'd felt that way, even though I'd pushed him away and taken it out on him, treated him as negligently as how my own crush had to me.

I remember Diyanah and her talking to me anonymously, how assured I was that somebody was there for me. I remember the way I'd looked at her and how she effortlessly had the one person that I wanted, how I could never in any way be like her, how I had to just trust that she would take care of him like I couldn't.

I remember Yazid, how I'd gotten so close to him only after my break-up. How he'd become my best friend in that few months, how we'd so easily talked and laughed about the most ridiculous things, made fun of each other like we were friends for such a long time. I remember how he always felt emotions on my behalf, from happiness in my moving on, to anger for my being cheated on.

I remember the way Zara stared at me when she saw me for the first time, how adorably she'd said "So that's how your voice sounded like!", how she was the one person at the time that I wanted to talk to about my crush. How she'd pulled me back to stand with her and her friends, telling me I was not allowed to stand alone whenever I tried to saunter away from the circle.

I remember Adly for everything he'd gone through for me, the way he'd felt emotions he didn't deserve because of me. I remember the way he'd try so hard to look cool all the time, but how easily I was able to make him laugh like a small kid. I remember him for all my stupid metaphors that he is, for all the times we fell back together despite being polar opposites.

I remember how Luqman had been the first one there for me after my break-up, the one I'd liked for everything that he was. I remember all the feelings I had for him, all the confusion and complication that circled us, all his thoughts that I wished I'd known sooner, all the hope he'd held without realising. I remember him as the one thing that I hoped to be, but never will be.

I remember Seira. 'Love' that was forbidden and had to be kept secret. A lover that may or may not have been there. Just another ghost floating in my soul.

A rusty chain from a Heroine, to represent the best Whatsapp group ever. 

First off, I continue to love Heroine because they were a family, and because it was thanks to this group I'd started to welcome the magic of birthdays back into my life. If it wasn't for the celebrations for Yat, Zye, Asyiq, Acap, no matter how small, and the wishes on mine, no matter how short, I would have continued hating birthdays. I will always remember this deed done by Heroine.

I remember the old Heroines, our many voice notes that would make me laugh so hard; our very first meeting at a rooftop beside Kallang station. I remember Hakim Shrek trying to quit smoking under my influence; I remember Mawar loving the younger Heroines like her little siblings; I remember Syafiq making a song out of my poems, I remember Anis, I remember Afad, I remember Ayumi.

I remember the newer and probably current Heroines, the few interactions I'd had with them. I remember Syaf waving at me from our school library; I remember Yat always copying my words and calling me a ghost; I remember Eka, how she seemed to admire me and like me no matter what, I remember Hakim, laughing at the faces I made; I remember Atiqah, I remember Feezah, I remember Asyiq, I remember Shawn.

I remember Izni, the things she'd told me in our taxi ride home from jalan raya. How I hadn't done anything more than listen, thinking about how I'd gone through that myself years before. I remember her for the person she shows everyone, because I never had courage to talk to her more than that.

I remember Hanafi, how I thought he was so tall, how weird he was when he first started talking in Estfut. I remember him for how he didn't easily forget things I said, for the things he told me that I never got to know if they were true or not, for how I thought he reminded me of the person I used to be.

I remember how Arie first talked to me during our jalan raya when I was starting to feel left out, how his exterior was the contrast of who he really was and how easily he laughed at little things. I remember him as a ghost for who he is and done and his obsession with zombies and all things scary.

I remember Acap for the many things he talked about, from his DJ stuff to his love life, how cool he may have seemed on the outside but how funny and irritating he actually was to me, the way he looked at me as I was talking about books, pretending to be interested.

I remember the way Zim would smile at everything he or I said, how we'd sat at a void deck talking about love lives over KFC, how we'd wandered around Woodlands with a motor helmet and a camera. I remember him for having been one of my first best friends of Heroine that never left.

I remember Effa, her voice when she sings and when she laughs, how she gave so much effort and love for people who did not deserve it. I remember how funny and happy she is with her friends, never forgetting the pain she felt inside. I remember in regret how I watched in silence as she suffered, from way back in February, without having guts to do or say anything.

I remember Naz for this group she's put together, how she loved everyone and vice versa. I remember her as someone I've wronged but never apologised to, only realising the mistake of not listening to her side of the story too late. I remember my sins toward her and her reactions to it that I would not blame her for.

I remember Zye and his lame jokes that he was always able to make funny, how he had a crush on me, the things he was attracted to me for. How broken he was when I rejected him for someone who didn't deserve it, his long text spewing all his feelings. I remember him as the big brother I never had, as someone whom I could run to and hide whenever I'm scared.

A watch from my best friend, to represent the best that I still have from secondary school. 

I remember Waikit for the senpai he's been since 2008 until now, how he'd called me sweet for having appreciated him when his other friends from secondary school had long forgotten who he was.

I remember Natalee and her enthusiasm for wanting to bring me to a cat cafe, how she's never failed to wish me on my birthday for years now.

I remember how shy Marissa had been to talk to me, how she'd thought I was an inspiration sometimes, how she'd been one of the few people I was surprised to know knew my birthday.

I remember Asleah leaving me so impressed with the dance skills I didn't believe she had, always looking so confident on stage. How she still made me laugh on the very rare times I managed to meet her.

I remember Pearl for continuing to laugh at my lame jokes even til now, on the few occasions I could see her. She'd always have her holidays on our school days and the other way around, being in Lasalle, and I appreciate the one time I managed to meet her this year.

I remember how Sabrina would put so much time and effort into her schoolwork, into hosting the 6th Reunion, into getting us souvenirs whenever she went on holiday, without fail. I remember our stroll around the airport, how she'd roll her eyes at my wisecracks.

I remember Shushan getting progressively prettier every time I see her, and yet still maintaining her super lameness. I remember the weird things she'd buy at bookfairs, like the binder and laminating machine, as if she'd wanted to make her own office in her bedroom.

I remember Siying always. I remember her spending yet another birthday with me, being the first I'd confided in about the wind's return, being the one to know me better than anyone without even talking to me for such a long period of time.

I remember how Farizah had been a host for my frequent visits to her school, how we'd reminisced about secondary school years in the zone of life beyond. I remember how she'd been so happy as well whenever I caught sight of my own crush.

A piece of wood with my name on it, dangling off a band from my mother, to represent the family she's brought me. 

I remember my only girl cousin, always so concerned and asking about school and my relationships even though she's got other things to worry about.

I remember my grandfather, still so spirited and chuckling to himself even on a hospital bed, his tendency to wander off like I would.

I remember my oldest uncle, putting all his love into renovating his new house, his constant anger and irritation to humans, only going soft and loving around his cat and kittens.

I remember my second uncle, how he'd make me laugh with his random comments when we're watching television or just hanging around in the kitchen together.

I remember my aunt, the look on her face when I came home heart-broken and hungover, only to tell her I was leaving and going back to my parents. I remember her being the dartboard for my frustrations, how she still loved me after I left her for a family she'd promised to protect me from.

I remember my father, hugging me after 2 whole years of not seeing me, holding back his tears as he said: "Daddy missed you so much."

I remember my sister-in-law, my awkwardness with her still labelled love compared to the dislike I felt for her the first time I saw her. Her text being the longest I'd received on my birthday, her being so concerned for me despite not being my real sister.

I remember my niece, staring at me with huge eyes the day after she was born, stopping her cries only after I rubbed her cheek.

I remember my big brother as the one and only person in the world that I hate.

I remember my little brother that I never got to see through puberty, the one person to live with my insanity and candidness every day and still remain my best friend.

I remember my mother, finally giving me reasons to believe she was proud of me and loved me, appealing against my dismissal from school, fighting for my life on my behalf.

I remember my grandmother, calling me every day if I'm at Pasir Ris or out, never staying mad at me for long, still making me hot milo even when she is.

Another loom band bracelet in green, from a Heroine's sister, to represent the other friends made through the people above. 

I remember being afraid of how Yuyul would see me, considering that she was a friend of my big brother's, but she'd been so nice to me. I remember the conversations with her that I never had with my own big brother.

I remember Nura whenever I am writing a new blog post, because she never fails to consume my words. I remember her as one of the very few people who follows and understands my every thought, and every new post is like a letter I'm personally writing to her.

I remember Ariff and his passion for flight and the aviation industry, his will to live every single day despite knowing he only has few left. I remember the love I had for him that existed only as smoke and never a flame, clouds and never a plane.

I remember Elin for being the person I have wronged, who still forgave me, who was so excited for our new friendship. She'd ask how I was, listen to me ramble on, make effort to type out long texts of advice. As much as I am grateful for her, I'd sometimes wish I could be more like myself with her and not shy anymore.

I remember Para, who anonymously asked how I was when he saw my depressing tweets, even gaining guts later on to admit it was him, and still occasionally asked how I was.

I remember Huda and Atiqah, Farizah's poly friends who let me study with them, taught me engineering Maths and gave me cookies to munch on whilst so, even making me laugh with their random stories.

I remember Aqilah and Aliff, the laughs we had at Aqilah's house, the time we'd gone to catch Lucy and taken a stroll down the city. I should have loosened up a little with Aqilah, being the same age as her, and I should have diverted the attention to Aliff, seeing how sad he'd been that day.

I remember Athirah and her love for cats, the way she'd jump-scared me half to death and laughed her head off while I laid half-dead on the floor. I remember the way she held on to me at Halloween Horror Nights, hid behind me when a zombie scared her, making me feel like I had a younger sister.

I remember Zaim being so pleasantly surprised, impressed even, to know my fascination with trains, my love for reading and writing, how it'd flattered me; I remember Fir, for his constant singing in the background that always made me laugh whenever I was talking to his cousin through the phone.

And around my neck, is a red dogtag, dangling off a chain from my wind, to represent what I will always fight for, what I will always love, what will always be home.

I remember 'Aamir as the flower I'd plucked off the field; as the bird who flew away as and when it liked; as the sun who continued watching me even from behind the clouds; as the river who pushed me along to places I never dared venture on my own. I remember him as everything; as the name that has been written beside mine.

I remember Pasir Ris, its constant changing alongside my own growing older. Every inch of it that's been memorised, every change it's gone and going through; like a sibling that is growing up together with you.

I remember Paya Lebar, the one thing I want that I never did have, its ground being a shelter to my past and future, for I have chosen it as my real home.

I remember passion, the only strength I ever had. My books, my metaphors, my dreams, my flaws; the things that push me apart from other people are what pull me together.

I remember life as my lover. I'd fallen in love with the view outside the window, the moon that followed me where I go, the wind that kept messing up my hair. I'd fallen in love with holding my chin up high, with walking on despite being so tired, with giving all I have to somebody who doesn't deserve it. I remember life as the one place where I'd fallen in love with everything and everyone.

____

365 days in this Wonderland had all possible routes walked, all strange characters met. While I may be nothing more than a lost girl to the eyes of the people I'd met, they on the other hand will stay etched into my memory as strong individuals for as long as I live.

I dare not live without pain as much as it's lonely to not be cared for.

I am in love with the idea of being alive, all of its flaws.

I am 19 and young, and I'd plunge myself down a waterfall despite my fear of the deep blue, for I wish to remain reckless with the love that is life.

____

***Initially edited this to the original version of Wonderland by Taylor Swift, but of course it got copyrighted, so I changed the audio to a cover by At Sunset.***

When the love of my life left me at the beginning of the year, I'd followed my broken heart down the rabbit hole, and stumbled upon the Wonderland that is 2014. 

Sounds cheesy, I know hah, but yes that's how the year has turned out. I've met so many new friends, went on so many fun outings. 

Okay the first half of the video focuses on my love for the roads that was borne of my loneliness at the beginning of the year, and the later half on the laughs I've had with both old and new friends later on. I'm very blessed for everything that 2014 came to be, even though I'd felt like I was gonna die back in January.

About religion again ugh

So I came home today, silently, without any greeting as usual. Not even the standard "peace be upon you" that is to be greeted at every Muslim house... I honestly can't remember the last time I said that, or even the reply.

My dad asked: "Why do you never give your salaam?" to which I kept quiet to, because I had too much to say in answer. Sometimes a person stays the quietest when she has the most to say after all.

He came into my room later, asking: "Do you have a lot of Chinese friends?" I wasn't sure how to answer, truth be told, because I knew why he was asking. I really only have 4 close friends who are Chinese, the 3 girls from my secondary school clique, and 1 from poly which is Shihui.

Most of my friends, as of 2014 anyway, are Malay. Muslims. Does it make any difference to my views on religion? NOPE.

I find it irrelevant for him to have asked me such a question... It's got nothing to do with the amount of Chinese friends I have, or friends from different religions. Parents' constant mistake: whenever something goes wrong with their child, they blame company, even though most of the time it's a thing borne of solitude.

Some time ago, I made a pact to myself that I'd decide on my 20th birthday if I'd like to try repenting again, or be fully atheist. I've been leaning against the latter, especially after many events and thoughts of the past year.

I keep saying this, but: religion tears people apart, be it from one another, or from themselves. Difference of religion make people hate each other, think themselves highly, better than others, things like that. Those cliche quotes of how people with tattoos are always nicer than those who go to church blahblahblah, I find it true in many ways.

Even my own parents aren't spared from this judgement of mine... They don't pray and never really raised us that way, and yet they tell me to be a better Muslim yadda yadda. At least my mom took me out of religious classes at the end of primary school, and I'm glad she did, because it was a way of letting me choose my own views.

Still, I judge my mom heavily for the way she associates herself with religion. She wears a headscarf but she doesn't act it out. She's a powerful woman in her own way, but I don't think she should wear it just because she feels disrespected for not wearing it at the age of 50. I have to admit I'm not entirely proud of her starting to wear it because of how she really is.

Sometimes I think I believe in the devil more than in God. Main reason: if dreams are the devil's playground, then wow that means the devil has been there for me more than God ever has.

The wind's argument to this: "Yeah it's the devil's playground, but the devil was made from God." which made me wonder, as silly and stupid as it sounds, what if God was made from the devil instead, created to divide everyone, to inflict pride and conflict? I sound so stupid saying this but hey.

If people can believe in a God they can't even see, then why can't I believe in the devil more, considering the fact that I've been supported by him every night in my dreams?

What's more, I kinda support things that are against my religion. Things like feminism, because I was told in Islam, women are always second to men, things like LGBT, because relationships with the same sex are prohibited.

And if you think about it, sometimes when you pray to God, you're technically just praying to Him to simply undo the things that He himself has done. Just my thoughts okay?

So many things to say about this... Just one simple exchange of words with my dad can spark all these rants. But yeah, the points I'd wanted to prove: 1. My views on religion has got nothing to do with the friends I have. 2. I believe in the devil and in demons more than in God.

Stop giving it all to me

I think people are selfish with everything they have except for one thing: the blame. They are more than obliged to give you all the blame they have, selfless enough to save none for themselves.

I read this saying once, something that went along the lines of: "When the leaf falls, do you blame it for not holding on, the tree for letting it go, or the wind for blowing it off?"

When something happens, I doubt there's any party entirely innocent. When someone commits suicide, you don't just blame them for not being strong enough. You'd blame the bully for tormenting them, you'd blame the people who stood by watching, not doing anything to help.

No one is spared the blame; there's more than enough to go around, so go ahead and take some. You deserve it anyway.

I hate how people would say it's my fault for making the bad decisions. I'm not saying I am not wrong, I never once said that. But I can't take all the blame. So would you just stop giving it all to me? I have plenty, I accept my share, but that does not mean I will take others'.

You can blame the ghost, for he was the one who pulled all the strings. He was the one who created such a situation by coming to me first, and you can even blame him for something stupid like making me like him after he came knocking on my door.

You can blame the wind, for he was the one who broke my heart for the third time, rendering me vulnerable enough to be taken advantage of by the ghost. People do the stupidest things when they're upset, so I think it's perfectly fine to blame the one who caused that sadness.

You can blame the flower too, for he was the one who kept all the hope in him. Whether or not what he said was true; if he had said something at that period, I would have clung on to that tiny spark of hope, and none of this would have happened because I'd have stayed where I am.

The possibilities are endless. You can blame anyone, whether they are in the game or the sidelines.

For the past month, the entire responsibility of all this has been dumped on me, and it's tiring the hell out of me. Once again I say, because some people like the river never understand this no matter how many times I say it: I'm not saying I am not wrong. I am very aware I'm in the wrong. I just plead that you stop giving me all that blame.

I'm shouldering the weight of the blame that is meant for the ghost, and it's not fair for he was the one who kicked the ball rolling in the first place. Maybe it was wrong of me to have continued pushing the ball, stupid of me to have put others before myself, even someone like him.

But everyone is making it seem so stupid to have liked someone who talked to you first.

Everyone is making it seem so difficult to just take a slice of this blame.

Everyone is making it seem so unforgivably wrong to make these humanly mistakes.

I've been taking all the hits from as far back as when it all began, and I'm honestly proud at how long I've lasted, how many times I stood back up after crumbling, but. Just. Stop giving it all to me.

Love and marriage and jodoh wow

Brace yourself, I'm gonna talk about love now. I've always looked for love, always writing my love stories, but I've never really thought hard about it. Until now anyways. I've been brainwashed with marriage ever since I watched my big brother happily settle down with my beloved sister-in-law.

You can't deny that love with a significant other is still the love you desire most. Even with all your family, friends, passion; having someone special, someone existing just to hold your hand, is the best kind of love. It's not desperation on my part... Maybe I just feel this way earlier than most people do.

Life isn't meant to be lived alone, really. Even if you spent your entire life so far single, once you marry someone, bam, they're with you til death. Your roads are with that person, never on your own again (provided that you both love each other that much of course).

I wish to settle down at age 25, just like my parents. At first it was because I thought it was cool to turn 50 in the same year of your 25th wedding anniversary, but now that I think about it, it's just the right age to marry. I've no desire to go university straight after poly, so it's the best option for me.

I'm 19 now, a hair's breath away from 20 at the rate time has been going. My parents met at their workplace, and if I'm not wrong they were in a relationship for only 2 years before they got married.

In my opinion, I'd like to have been with my future husband longer than that. Marrying someone you've been with for 5 years? I don't know about you, but that sounds more appealing than settling down with someone just a year after you got together.

I think it's normal for one to feel like they've found their soulmate, especially when they're at a certain age. For my case, the word 'jodoh' is stronger, and yes it's surprising I believe in this even though I'm not religious.

Honestly I don't know what are the factors that would contribute to the fact that two people were literally made for each other. Is it how you still think of each other 6 months after breaking up? Is it how you always cross paths with each other's lives no matter what? Is it based on feelings or just fate, I have no idea.

I have an inkling on who my soulmate might be, and the things he'd said in July and November have helped me realise I'm not the only one who thought of this. It's crazy. I sound crazy now, but......... it's crazy.

Back in secondary school, there'd been a boy who kept coming back into my life too. But now, me being 19, it seems silly as heck to have thought of him as a soulmate just because of how he kept coming back. Yet here I am doing the same analysis with this other boy. He could mean nothing to me when I'm 25, and yet...

Yeah. It's crazy. Love is being crazy. Love will always be crazy.

I blog because...

"Thank you, God, for this gift that is my writing. Thank you, God, for this space where I have all the power. Sorry though, God, because I think I'm about to fuck you over.
Then I become God the only place I can. On the page." - This Gorgeous Game

I blog because it is the only way I make things happen.

I blog because empty pages are the only place I can become my own god.

I blog because it makes all the crazy things that have been happening to me seem like a story.

I blog because I like having people read the words I put together.

I blog because sometimes people would rather not ask me straight about how I've been doing, so I give them words on this space for them to know.

I blog because there are people who are feeling, or laughing at my misery, and either way, at least they can relate to my emotions.

I blog because when I've been wronged, I wish to tell my side of the story, even if they still think I am the bad guy at the end of it.

I blog because it makes me think that I have forgiven the people who have hurt me or were putting all the blame on me for their own hurt.

I blog because it is my way of sharing my thoughts and feelings with the wind, who has come and gone, now in the process of the latter, and I wish more than anything to talk to him.

I blog because he has kept his promise of reading my every post, and I am grateful for that.

I blog because I have made many friends through it, even though our conversations are technically just them listening to all my words from the other side of this screen.

I blog because it makes me feel like there is a constant audience reading, a train of support following me wherever I go, knowing all that is happening to me.

I blog because sometimes when you don't feel like talking, but you want people to know how you feel, you can just fill your thoughts into these empty pages that are easily accessible.

I blog because I get all kinds of reactions from people: admiration, pity, judgement, dislike, and it makes me feel alive, like I'm somebody.

I blog because writing all of this down makes it seem like the pain is over, even when it's not.

I blog because someday I will read these posts back and reminisce these memories, laugh at my past embarrassing moments, admire how my past self survived all that.

 The list goes on.

Whenever I open a new post, it's always for me. I want to record down a dream I had, or stupid metaphors that mean a lot to me, or a memory of time spent with someone I like.

Once it's posted, it's for everyone. I want people to get all kinds of emotions through the words I just typed out for myself. Get freaked out by my weird dreams, confused about my metaphors trying to understand them, go awww about my gushing towards a boy.

I blog for myself and for the people around me, including myself in the future.

And that's why I've been leaning towards blogging more than writing in my personal diary. I love my page, Solitary Author; she's a wall I can paint on with anything I like, a tree I can build a treehouse on and see the world, a stage where I am the only one everyone is looking at, a photo album where I can see how I've grown, a daughter I will take care of forever the moment she is born.

She's like a ghost I've been talking to from the moment I started writing in a diary when I was 7. A ghost whose soul has followed me from notebook to notebook and now resides in my blog. Kinda cool to think of it that way, heh.

Interesting people at the animal clinic

I visited my youngest cat at the hospital again today. It's just a little clinic at Kembangan where sick dogs and cats go.

When I came on Monday, he was a sad little thing, a cone wrapped around his head and dirt all over his mouth. He'd refused to eat and he didn't move much, not even to struggle when being manhandled. Never made a sound either.

There were other animals there too, mostly cats in fact. One had been admitted for having fits, this sad little orange and black local cat. Another was abandoned; being 19 years old, the owners decided to give up taking care of it and have passed that responsibility on to the vets.

While we were fussing over my cat, a couple came in to admit their cat as well. A Malay lady with an Angmoh husband and this fluffy Ragdoll cat. What a combination.

Surprisingly the Malay lady wasn't so stuck-up, and she talked to my aunt and I about all kinds of cat things. She told me about how her cat would just limp into your arms if you carried him; that's what the breed would do anyway. And her kitty is beautiful, those pretty boy kind.

I visited again today, and my kitty has made a vast improvement since then. My aunt and I arrived to see him so excitedly mewing the moment he saw us. He gobbled down his food and couldn't sit still, it was enlightening to see him so well again!

My youngest cat doesn't trust people so easily, and at home whenever he hears a stranger's voice he'd run and hide, not coming out til 2 hours later. But I could see how he's well acquainted with the vet already, how he actually mewed to her to carry him. It felt so nice to see him actually getting along with other humans (':

This man came in later, ordering some kind of vaccine stuff. While his orders were being processed by the vets he came over and said a hi to me as well as a rub on my kitty's head and a "Hey there, buddy."

He talked to us about a cat abuser at Beach Road, this old man who has killed more than 50 cats. Shocking, I know. He knew the killer, but the authorities wouldn't do anything about it because there wasn't enough evidence.

Thus, his cause called Save Beach Road Cats. I thought it was so admirable of him, to be standing up against this cat killer because even SPCA wouldn't do anything about it.

I'd met 3 new friends, all being breeds of cats I'd seldom seen in person. A Maine Coon who stared at me with huge green eyes; a Bengal cat who rolled around and locked my hand in both her paws; a Persian who stuck her paws out at me to pet her with that grouchy face of hers.

Later on, my aunt told me about the two nurses at the vet, these 2 girls from the Phillipines. Back home, they could qualify to be doctors, but they didn't get that kind of job here in Singapore.

But they didn't mind being just vets, their exact words being: "It's alright, a life is still a life." and they'd grown to be so passionate about these sick and abandoned animals that come onto their doorsteps every day.

I've met so many interesting people on just two visits. I find it amazing how a simple thing like love for a certain animal could bring people together.

The 3 players in the game of life

I used to be a Luke, a shy mimosa who curls up when touched.

I used to be someone who would look out the window to the outside world but not actually stepping out.
Too afraid to take chances, too afraid to admit I like something.
Keeping it to myself or going around it quietly without wanting anyone to see, even if I'm good at it.
Covering up my feelings by saying stupid stuff half the time.
Disappearing and appearing, like how the moon is sometimes full and sometimes new.

I am now a Leila, a flame with all the hope in the world.

I am someone with a destination but relishing the moments of the journey.
Entering and exiting the lives of many different people, making negative and positive impacts.
Giving all my time and effort for someone who isn't going to be a permanent comrade.
Inspiring others and ruining others' lives just as much, receiving happiness and anger.
Getting lost in order to find what I'm looking for.

When I die, I wish to be a Lauren, a name that lingers.

I wish to be someone who is loved by those who matters.
A tune that plays in people's heads, filling them with regret for the unexpected loss.
Words that spill out in sadness and grief, inflicting the magic of letting go.
A person that not everyone knows even exists but is remembered by those who do.
A song that would mean a lot only to those who truly understand it.

____

Luke is a friend who keeps staying rooted where he is.
Leila is a character in a road trip book, driving endlessly and still looking for her purpose.
Lauren is a song about a girl who died in a car crash.

Even though they have nothing in common, 3 completely different people far apart from each other, I can't help but link them this way. Like they're the perfect examples of the stages of life. And yes, everyone is a Leila right now, at least until they die.

I really need to find something to do other than coming up with these far-fetched philosophies, oh my god.

[Leila is from Let's Get Lost by Adi Alsaid; the song title is Lauren's Song by Breathe Carolina.]

Conversation with a reflection

After years of being in each other's heads, we finally meet.

...Why aren't you looking at me? I'm right here. You've been so curious as to how I look like but now you refuse to even stand up.

As cliche as it sounds, you're stronger than this. Can you stand up, girl? 

You're not even 20 yet and you're already so tired. You've fallen in love with the idea of being alive, and yet here you are refusing to even live up that love.

Such a shame, isn't it? There you were, giving all the love and trust that you had, to everyone you met, whether or not they deserved it. You forgot to save any for yourself, of course you're so tired out right now.

You're a strong person but that doesn't mean you won't break. Stop being so selfless, letting everyone have what you have and refusing to take anything of theirs. Didn't you say, "If I give you a piece of me, and you give me a piece of you, then nobody is really broken"? You're leading yourself to your own falling apart.

...Still refusing to stand up?

...You were right. Sometimes the best way to move on is to go back to where you came from. Just like how you returned to your parents to move on from your precious wind.

Right now, you need to talk to your old friends. You've realised how cruel the people who you thought to be your friends were; they didn't return your love, they made you out to be the bad guy... Go back to your old friends.

They may be busy, but it's worth a shot. Send a text asking how they are, call them up asking for a lunch or something. Anyone. Anyone other than the 'friends' you have loved the past 4 months. 

Stand up, girl.

She grabs my wrist.

Stand up and look at me.

She holds my chin and makes me face her. I close my eyes.

You're a fucking tyrant and you're gonna get through this.

I let out a cruel laugh. That's what I've been telling myself.

That's what I've been telling you.

Go back to where you came from. I'd return as far back as my mother's womb if I could, start all over from my very first breath. But you can't do that. You move forward from difficult times by going back, and you go back to your precious moments by moving forward.

You're not alone in this. Not ever. See how you've laughed so much with your mom and aunt the past week even with all the problems within your family. See how you've enjoyed your 5-star view at Ion Sky with the love of your life even with half of another shithead in your heart.

And most of all see how you've continued loving everything around you, the sky and the trees and the roads, even after all the shit everyone's put you through. 

You're gonna get over this. You're gonna be an amazing daughter, aunt, wife, mother. Heck you're already an amazing person if you'd just stop giving so much of your flame away to others. Now stand the fuck up.

She gives my wrist a hard grip and pulls me, forcing me onto my feet.

I jerk awake. It's 6 in the morning. The mysterious bruise I've had on my wrist the past 2 weeks has faded from an ugly purple to a murky yellow.