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.

Pride without an audience

It's raining non-stop and it intensifies my misery. The people around me are expressionless, as if the presence of rain is nothing to them. Maybe they are used to it, learnt to live alongside the sky's tears.

I also seem to be the only one getting bothered by the cold, decked out in my thickest cardigan and a beanie, while everyone else has sleeves rolled up and hair tied in ponytails.

Someone has an umbrella propped up above me, protecting me from the rain. I can't see who this person is because everytime I try to see, I am pushed on the shoulder to face forward.

I try again to see who this stranger is, and this time he or she doesn't make me look forward anymore. Instead, he simply takes away the umbrella and walks away. He shields himself from my view with his umbrella, and I don't chase him. I've pushed away the one act of kindness in this dampness.

I continue walking in the rain, everyone else around me still with their emotionless faces, dripping wet with raindrops or silent tears, I do not know.

My sneaker splashes against a puddle. I look down and kick the water around with the foot of my sneaker, and continue on ahead.

Another puddle, and this time the water reaches my ankle. My sneakers and socks are uncomfortably soaked, so I remove them. I continue on ahead, barefoot.

The rain keeps coming, until water is to my knees.

I look around to see everyone with the same expressionless faces. I hide in the water and remove my jeans. I keep walking, the dirt of the rainwater tickling my exposed thighs.

The rainwater now covers me to my neck. I remove my cardigan and t-shirt, and I am completely naked, only the dirt and grime of the rainwater covering me.

I am below the surface now. The water pushes me forward, and I allow it, letting myself float wherever it wants to take me.

Everyone else continues walking even underwater. I am the only one floating, and I am not even ashamed of having every inch of my skin exposed like this.

Because nobody is watching.

Here I am, getting along with my fear, and nobody is watching. I am the only one floating while everyone continues walking with vacant eyes.

____

I wake up to the pitter-patter of the rain against the window.