Why do you look back?

consider this a stupid metaphor, but if you remember how our Pewdie always plays Slenderman, and even with his millions of fans telling him not to "look back": he does. and then Slenderman seizes him and that is when Pewdie groans in regret as he restarts the game.

why do you like to look back? 

i know what i did was wrong. that all happened more than a month ago. the time in between, i'd tried my best to mask that horrible mistake of mine by making you  happy instead, to help you forget. 

i thought our happy times in between would have made you forget that one horrible time. i've never been so wrong. who would have thought that even if i made you laugh you still had the anger in the memory. 

why would you walk forward yet face behind you? why do you keep bringing up the negative parts of the past when we've gone through a lot more other happy moments? i don't get you. 

and you too know that i've done so much for and with you, i've no idea why you still must think about what i did to you. that one incident.

you say a glass which breaks can never be the same again. i was about to counter something to that but you didnt want to listen, you pulled me up and shoved me onto my train last night. i didnt have a chance to speak.

i don't get you really i don't. you bring up the past, and then you start getting angry at me for that. and then you accuse me of being the one who still reminisce my mistake in bliss, blablabla, what the hell.

i'm so tired. you know that. you know my problems with money and my studies, so why do you keep adding more problems? why cant you just be the darling you are and forget the past, forgive me, and move on and just be here for me for my existing problems? 

I'm sorry we can't see Pewdiepie.

She was a girl with long dark hair and maroon eyes, a little bow hanging on the chest of her white blouse, and a musical box chimes in the background.

That was the first thing i saw after clicking on the link which someone on Twitter had sent me. And then i noticed the little window at the corner of the screen. The blonde guy whose face sat there laughed;

"Ha-ha-how's it going bros? My name is Peeeeewdiepie!"

That was the very first Pewdiepie video i ever watched: Ib gameplay part 1.

It was August of 2012, and as always i was sitting in my bedroom in solitude. At that time i didnt have anyone to call 'friend' and all 4 of my family members were too busy with their own things like they always were.

My laptop was my only friend. I listened to sad songs, I blogged, i shared my stories online knowing nobody would be reading. I was sad, i was angry, and even emotionless. But i was not happy at all.

This gameplay of this game 'Ib' by this Youtuber named Pewdiepie; for as long as i could remember... it was the first time i laughed so heartily.

Watching his videos became an addiction overnight. School already didnt have any point; but now i was looking forward to meeting my laptop and giggling til i was tearing.

I didnt know what was it about him that was so funny. But Pewdiepie really did save my life back then. He returned me my smile.

The day my father kicked me out of my previous house, i had difficulty standing up after he lashed out his anger at me. But i remembered how Pewdie always yelled "NO BUENO!" whenever he didnt want something that determined his gameplay's fate to happen.

Im not sure why but that line rang in my head at that very moment and i sucked in my tears and gathered what strength i had. I managed to stand up and found myself a pair of shoes to replace my taken Nikes, and walked out of the house with my father yelling at me never to come back.

Came 2013 and i met an adorable boy named 'Aamir. He liked Pewdiepie too, and we talked aimlessly, questions on and on because he wanted to keep the conversation going.

Well that was what pulled this stranger and i closer together; the love for the same Youtuber. And this stranger has been my boyfriend ever since.

Pewdiepie saved my life, he was there for me when i really had no one. And he was the one who held that bridge which led 'Aamir to find me, another saviour.

I made a vow to leave behind everything of 2012, and i've been doing my best: everything but Pewdiepie. Because without Pewdiepie, my 2013 would have been just as empty.

Here i lie, shivering and tearing because i couldnt afford to bring 'Aamir and i to see Pewdiepie. He was there for me when i was all neglected back at my parents' house, but i cant even do a single shit to go see him.

Am i not fated to at least meet him, give him a hug, and thank him for having saved my life?

Man... I know it's a silly thing to get emotional about. But you dont know what i went through and what he was there for me for.

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Words and mistakes.

my blog is way below my expectations. like many of you might know; writing is all i have. my words, my sentences, they mean a lot to me. i would be of no pride if my blog posts are not enjoyed by many.

if i were to have an assholic mindset, i would tell myself that it's my English that's too cheem; that's why these faggots of society have difficulty understanding my sentence structures.

but nah. i'm just gonna get judged, right back at me.

i'm just not sure what to blog about sometimes. my days are too calm to share with you. my stories are too complicated to believe. whatever it is, i still wish people who read my blog dare admit they do. i dont mind criticisms. at least tell me if my words are regarded.

nevermind, i have no idea what i am crapping.

it was wrong of me to show my feelings. it was wrong of me to smile when i'm happy, to cry when i'm sad, or to frown when i'm angry. these are all my mistakes.  i admit my mistakes, okay.  now what?

I hope this explains.

i wish i can really blog out everything.

i want to let it out, but i don't want to tell you. yet i can't blog about it because people will do this thing called 'judge' and you will get upset because of that. because you dont like the way people look at you.

but i can't hold it in anymore. i want to talk about this now. here.

right back on the day we first met. back at the airport. my second home; i got donuts and hot chocolate there regularly. that day was special because for the first time i was not alone. there was... you.

you got yourself a sandwich, and right after, your wallet was completely empty. you didnt know how you were going back home without money, and you laughed it off. with my persistence, i managed to get you to accept the ten bucks i dropped in your wallet.

back then we were still on the student fares, and that ten bucks was enough to top up your ez-link card and buy a meal from Maccy D.

i was working everyday, and i only managed to meet you on my off days or when i asked for half days from my lady boss. i was asking for that too frequently and was also decreasing my salary that way; but there was still nothing that made me happier than spending the time with you.

about a month before school started, you got desperate for a job. i tried all means to help you find one; even got you a job at my place before you got sick on your first day and my boss decided he didnt want you.

your job at MBS was not as 'stable' as mine; and sometimes you even backed out of it simply because you were tired. i didnt mind. i didn't mind paying for our meals, and topping up your ez-link so you would have a smooth trip home.

i was deeply saddened when you told me about how your friends said "just because a woman gives you money doesnt mean she loves you".

you needed to eat? i paid for the food which you wanted to try.
you needed to go home? i topped up your ez-link.
you were wearing the same clothes over and over again? i bought you new clothes which made you look dashing.
you lost your wallet along with all the salary which you had just earned? nevermind, i got you a new one which really suited you.

then school started. one of my fears which i'd been thinking about was the school fees. there was the laptop i needed to get, along with all the books. and then Granny told me to go shopping for new clothes, which i couldnt deny that i really needed.

just two weeks after school started, my finances were already steep in decline. i told you about it, because you were my second half. you were against the idea of my skipping meals at school, but still, you always ended up making me spend my money on food, even if it was just a little.

you still get school allowance from your mother, which you deposited right into your account upon receive. but you had bills to pay, and you had meals to eat too, til eventually you went completely broke; after all, you hadn't had any savings from before.

yesterday, Wednesday the 15th of May; a month since i first met my classmates. my precious classmates of ECE 1A1. you knew my stories of 2011 and 2012, when i still had my classmates of those years. you should have understood how much i love my new poly classmates.

they accepted me, despite my scars. everyone was different, and nobody was to be shunned in any way. how i love them so.

class started at 12, and half an hour into the first lesson, i received a call from you. it was your lunch, and you were not with your classmates so you called me just to keep you company.

your classmates weren't with you because they were eating. and you? you didn't have any money. none at all.

i hung up on you and scoured our Whatsapp conversation to look for your bank account number. i wrote it on a Post-it which i have pasted somewhere convenient so i can now transfer you money as and when you need it.

despite your protests from over the phone, i transferred twenty bucks over to your account with no hesitation. all i could think of was the fact that my darling was skipping meals and that you needed to eat something.

you hesitantly accepted it before thanking me. I love you so much; how could i allow you to go through a whole school day without eating?

i reached home at 9 last night, or so, and all was fine, til i told you "we're going to celebrate our monthsary tomorrow. we're going to play pool."

just a simple sentence, and you misunderstood. you thought i was referring to the monthsary of our being together. when i corrected you, you straightway lashed out. you thought i was making a fool out of you. you said i was embarrassing you and trying to make you look stupid.

since when was i? once again you had your transition; swiftly, your mood went down just like that. you ignored me, and you vented it on Twitter.

You think just by giving me money makes me happy? What the fuck

that hurt so bad. do you know that? and if you don't know why, i suggest you read this post again and again until it becomes sewn into your bloody brain.

i'm done. yes, i've went round the bush just to tell you that this simple sentence of yours is what upsets me. goodnight.

My ghosts of West EW1.

it feels like years since i last visited this place. it seems so different in so many ways. children have grown up, buildings have sprung up, trees have been cut off.

they once told me to call this place "home". i did. but it was not worthy of the title.

welcome to the west side of Pasir Ris.

i've just finished work; that's in the East side. i've long promised myself never to have anything to do with this town anymore, but my friend got me a job here, so i didnt have much choice. still, i've always been avoiding the West side. that's where i used to live.

i press the traffic light button. it probably doesn't do much; just a placebo, but here i feel a sense of control. i stare at the blocks across the road, stare through my hair which the wind blew all over my face. when i finally shove my messed up locks aside, my eyes start to tear.

there are ghosts of the memories past. when i was a little girl and my parents held either one of my hand; pulled their hands up to swing me because they knew i liked it. when i was 15 and my first love brought me around on his bike; my hands gripping his shoulders as he raced down the slope.

the memories are gone. but the ghosts linger.

like they always do.

as i press the button for the ninth floor, i find myself brought back in time. this feels so normal. like i just went out with my friend and am returning back to my parents and brothers now.

it's been half a year since that could have been labelled as "normal".

the gate to my old house is unlocked. i opened it; "Assalamualaikum", i said.
since i am no longer living here to disrupt that peace. i thought.

my little brother is there, with his soccer ball. it really feels so normal. we don't say a word about our separation; neither do we rejoice about our reunion.

the last time i was here, my clothes were all stuffed into garbage bags. now, they're all neatly folded, some laid on my bed and some squeezed into the cupboard which door i had broken during one of those times i lacked self-control.

the calendar on the shelf is collecting dust; it's a 2012 calendar, still on its December page. that was when i left this house.

my younger brother irritates me like he used to, all the time, and vice versa. he's the only thing from this house which i dare admit i miss. he was the only thing which made it a lot more pleasant.

i used to be the only one who showers in the kitchen bathroom; everyone else did so in the master bedroom's, because they all liked the cold water and didnt need the heater which only the kitchen had.

but now i see the mess of shampoos and soaps in where i thought would have been completely dry. "is someone else showering in the kitchen toilet now?" i ask my brother.

"papa." he answers.

i ask him whether Mama has agreed on contributing to my school fees for me, because i couldnt depend on myself alone for that. they are still discussing, he says.

what is there to discuss? are they really washing their hands off of me just like that? no matter what wrong i did, arent i still their responsibility?

and all those things i did for them, through out all those years before 2012; are they gonna forget those just because of one year?

____

i can live on my own. i have my grandmother, my aunt, my boyfriend, and my new classmates. i dont need to go begging from someone who abandoned me.

Quicksand.

a hat on your head, some rings on your fingers.
eyes behind shades, a weight on your shoulders.

i feel like a burden. i feel like i'm bothering everyone who cares for me. it feels like i'm making them bend over backwards whenever they show me concern.

studies. finances. family. love. i find problems in all of them, and because of these, the people around me get affected too.

i'm a slow learner, and Susan and Shafie have to be bothered with in order to teach me. i refuse to eat just to save money, and Susan and 'Aamir end up paying for my meals just to make me eat. family and love; i force that honour out of my boyfriend all the time.

yupp. i'm a burden to everyone else.

and then sometimes i feel like a burden to even myself. maybe that's why i dont tell myself what're my problems. maybe thats why i cry, and most of the time it's for no reason that i know of.

i'm so heavy, with all this weight on my shoulders. adding with the heavy burden that i already am; i sink quicker into this quicksand.

____

ELTech lecture was so cold and sleep-inducing til Susan and i decided to go out for a walk. we were soaking up the warmth of the balcony at the end of the lane, when appeared a wild Shafie and Qi Hong. so the four of us were slacking and by the time we got back to class, it was time to go.

Shafie and Nicholas both got injured during yesterday's Sports&Wellness, and the whole class was busy fussing over them. Shafie's ankle and wrist were hurt while Nicholas broke a hamstring.

so i decided to remove my cardigan since it was soaked with my perspiration, and i was sitting right at the back anyway, when Shafiq decided to announce "HOMAIGOD E'INDAH WITHOUT LONG SLEEVES!!" ugh no stop!

right after C Programming, Susan, Shafie, Qi Hong, Nicholas, Edwin & i made our way to the atrium to slack for a while before them four of us had to go for our bridging math.

and damn. the way Nicholas struggled to hoist his body weight up the wall. too adorable.

bye.

Classmates of 2013.

hey guys. how's it going? how has school been? Ngee Ann just recently celebrated its 50th Anniversary and we were all forced to go Botanic Gardens to lepak.

at least my classmates and i managed to have a few laughs together. like we always do. the top 2 things which made me laugh:
1. edwin's "you think we all so organised ah, all bring the same mat together?!"
2. edwin's "even if i push him down the drain also you all will still continue walking one!"

XD

we had dinner together afterwards, at a Wendy's at Orchard, laughing at the most random things ever. Susan and i went into H&M for a while to look at clothes which i will never be able to pull off; told her about how 'Aamir always picks clothes out for me when we go shopping, and she agreed that such a boyfriend is so damn rare ^_^

how i treasure my classmates right now. we all took the mrt together and alighted at our respective stations, me being the first to drop off at Bishan to transfer to the circle line. i missed them immediately after i watched the last carriage of the train disappear from my view.

every Monday i have a class which sits at Block 50; near the school of Film &Media Studies. something which i wanted. it broke my heart everytime.

what if back then on the 31st of January, the text i received had stated that i was admitted to the film course indeed, instead of where i am right now. i'd be over the moon wouldnt i?

but then i thought. what if today, when i am walking down the lanes in Ngee Ann, as an FMS student instead of SOE; and i see the people of ECE 1A1 walking past me. i wouldnt recognise them. and this thought alone is enough to make me sad.

it would feel like waking up in a hospital to a family who had been erased from your memories.

this is 2013. how many times have i told myself, yet i still havent gotten this into my head despite it being almost half the year through already.

the reason why i'm not even living with my parents was because i stayed out overnight with my sec 4 and 5 classmates. it was the last straw for my father.

how i loved those classmates so; my classmates of 2011 and 2012. i thought they loved me too. i thought they treasured me as much as i did them. apparently not. i was invisible in the classroom. i thought they could see me already. they did, but i guess they didnt accept it.

i shall cherish my classmates of 2013 like there is no tomorrow.

The power of words.

A musician, producing music with their guitars and pianos and voices.

An artist, creating works of art with their pencils and paintbrushes and spraypaint cans.

An athlete, showing their bits of strength by running and jumping and swimming.

I'm neither of the above, but music forms from my paragraphs, my art comes from my sentences, and my strength shows in my words.

I'm a writer and although i cant sing, or draw, or run even for a bit; i have everything as long as i have the power of words.

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A dozen purple hyacinths, to and fro.

you pulled me to you, buried your face in my hair and you said; "i fucking love you."

you held me til my ribs were about to break, til i wasn't sure if you were ever gonna let me go. even when you released me from your arms, you held my hand every moment you could.

that was just yesterday.

what got into you? you were fine this morning. all you did was go out to have breakfast with your family and you even went to the park. you came home, and started venting it on me.

i dont understand your transitions. sometimes you get angry at me simply because of something from the past. it's not fair, don't you think?

you've made your mistakes too. like the 13th of April this year. i met my mama after four months of not seeing each other but she made me upset and literally left me at the side of the road. a hearty reunion! i texted you, but you ignored me. your last seens showed how you were ignoring me.

and when you did talk to me, what did you say? you said i was exaggerating, and that you didnt believe me.

i couldnt help it, i did what i did in the past. you abandoned me for a moment there, and all i could do was remember the promise i made you of across in abandonment, down in death.

i really needed you. but you werent there. you didnt want to be there.

had my first day of tertiary education two days later, and i had to cover what i did. they were a constant reminder of you not being there. even when i was afraid of my new classmates seeing them and not accepting me for it. do you know how afraid i was...?

still, i forgave you each time i looked at them.

a dozen purple hyacinths, to and fro; just that i am forcing them out of you while i willingly give a thousand to you.