My Epiphany

Maybe it's the weather, maybe it's the time of the year. I had a sudden realization as I walked down busy streets all by myself with a haversack on my back and converse sneakers on my feet.

I realized I have been living my life wrong. Maybe not wrong but not in the way my heart tells me to.

All along I had thought I wanted fame, sense of importance and everything else that comes with having a rather reputable job. The corporate ladder is not for me, I don't wear heels. And I'm not for earning the riches and driving fast cars. I want to create and make something that will change the world. I want to save something. I want to help.

So last evening before bed, I made myself promise that I will never buy another leather bag or purse. I told myself I will cut down on my meat intake and I will try to be a vegetarian. I told myself that no animal have to die just so I could enjoy its meat. (Carl and my mom are going to be rather sad over this)

I saw yet another article on sport hunting of the largest elephant in Africa killed. I saw its lifeless body, its long white beautiful tusks. Then I saw a disgusting human being squatting next to it, posing for the camera. With a smile so wide that I just feel like giving him the Joker's scars.

I realized I have a vigilante in me. I can't stand watching the helpless being bullied. I can't stand not helping anyone.

So I promised myself that I will give unconditionally from today onwards. Do my best to protect those who can't protect themselves and help whenever I could. I will save the animals. I will.

I will even speak up for the rape victims in India. I will and I will.

I will be the voice for those who can't speak or tell a story. I will and I will.

I will save the world. Even if it means me being murdered. I will not live and die like this. I will live a true life, a meaningful one. I will not leave this world without contributing anything to it.

P/S Tony, if you're reading this, please lend me one of your suits?

Closure of Cs

I left Carl today. 

Left whatever we have built over the last two years. Left Keppel Club, Snoop, Sunrise Terrace and all the feeling of him being around, the memories and his smile. 

Love is a choice. Leaving is also a choice. 

I did my best. I really did this time. 

29th September 2015

On this fateful day, something rather big happened.

It is to me.

I had duly gone to the Superdry store at VivoCity to meet up with Alicia for a product sponsorship. Before that, I had gone to La Senza to check on the new arrivals and returned the goods I had previously loaned. Met up with Alicia at about 5:05pm and spoke with her a little on what our requirements are. Managed to catch up a little on our common friends and went on to talk about Yoga Movement.

Then the phone ranged, ding ding.

I had to look at it again. For a good 10 seconds I couldn't believe my eyes.

"[WhatsApp] B K. Siew Hi, xxxxxxxxxx"

I took the SuperdrySport collection I've picked out for Alicia and told her to go try them out. Spoke with her a little while my brain was racing up and down, to and back. And I said bye to her.

But I didn't leave the store. I had to breathe.

I hid in the storeroom and reread the message a good ten times. I was panting very heavily and for a moment I thought I was going to faint. If I were to faint there, I am sure my colleagues would have sent me to the hospital. And they will notify my boss in the office. Which will then be ridiculous so I tried hard not to pass out.

Thank god I didn't.

So it finally happened. The day I always somewhat knew would come.

He had dreamt about us the night about, about our quarrels and fights that were surely, unforgettable in his words. To me, I had let go of the unpleasant times and remembered the good ones for these two years.

Glad he remembers it's been more than two years since we last spoke. Not pleased to know that he has only been able to think about the bad times we've had for the past couple of years.

If fate has a nickname, let's dub it wicked OK? Let's agree on the existence of sheer coincidence as well because two nights before, I had dreamt about him vividly.

If I had subconsciously been practising LOA on him, and even in my dreams, I've manifested him back into my life again. Not trying to sound arrogant or cocky here, but I've always known that Thor Tan Tui and Mrs Thor will always find their way back to each other somehow. Maybe not in the romantic way, maybe not even on friendship basis. But maybe for a closure.

And this is our closure.

He had decided to let go of all the resentment and anger that he has been keeping for two years.

"Are you serious? For two years, he's only been able to think about the anger?" asked Tracy.

Later that day, I went home and had a good long stare at the diary he had previously gotten for me when he went to Germany for some military training exchange. I took it out from the box that usually sits at this corner on my bookshelf. Inside were his photos, our photos, air tickets, receipts, a couple of letters, a card and March 2013 tore off from the calendar. I am a sentimental freak.

I opened the diary and skimped through some of its pages. The last entry was dated 28th September 2015. The day after I had dreamt about him.

Through the years, there were a few entries written. Sporadically.

"Wow, I was so childish," I felt disgusted with myself.

For the next three days, I contemplated whether to return everything to him which I had meant to for the past two years. Imagine if I had given the diary back to him in 2013, there would never have been entries dated 2014. There wouldn't have been entries written just because I had wanted so much to talk to him.

You see, we did really talk a lot when we first met each other and when we're not fighting. We usually talk to each other as soon as we wake to when we sleep. Never for more than an hour did we not text each other. We have endless subjects to talk about, ideas to share and identical habits to discover in each other. That was us. We're almost like best friends. Or I would like to think now, we used to be best friends in our past life. But not this life. The Universe had decided that this is the end of this arrangement which has spanned across a few lifetimes.

On 3 October when Carl left for LA, I picked up my phone and told Benjamin I have something for him. I have my closure and that was it. I want to return everything to him, the piece of him that he had given me. And if by reading all the entries I've written him all these years could give him the bit of solace he's been seeking for for years, then please let him read it. Please let him know how I felt, how I used to think and perhaps, allow him to understand why I reacted the way I did, which resulted him in not being able to let go of the resentment and hatred he has been habouring for two years.

I wanted us to say goodbye. I know we can never live with each other. Have we been thoroughly happy for the last couple of years? At least, I would like to think so. Even though Carl and I aren't officially back together, I know and hope we will one day be able to commit to spending the rest of my life together. Whether will I be thinking about Benjamin on my deathbed when I'm 85, I don't know.

***
14th March 2013 Thursday

It was a warm night. We took off to Sentosa after our dinner at Piedra Negra. You had a beer and I had a sangria. We sat by the beach and listened to the waves. For a good moment, we both kept quiet and allowed ourselves to be, to just be in the presence of the moment, right next to each other.

"When I went to the states for this military training, Schofield Barracks to be exact, we had potatoes for meals all the time. But the food was good, they were good."

Silence

It was September 12, 2015 that I decided to disappear and live a life of a recluse. I didn’t want to take a shower but decided to because I desperately wanted to brush my teeth. I had this unspeakable paranoia that if I don’t brush my teeth for a day, they will all be gone the next day. Sitting on the toilet bowl and emptying the little of which I’ve consumed the day before, I found out that the bathroom felt safer than my bedroom. It’s where I smoke and clean myself.

“Since you’re taking a shower anyway, why don’t you make sure you clean every inch of your body real clean?”

I have a habit of buying and keeping toiletries as and when I visit Watson’s. I always have a fear of running out of toiletries. Even when I do have a lot of travel sized ones, I still feel safer with the full sized version. I am worried about having no shampoo, no shower gel, no toothbrush and no facial foam. Funny thing is, I never worried about running out of toothpaste. My youngest sister was the one who worries about that so she always has it covered. I guess I take this for granted.

*

How could one who live in the light of day comprehend the depths of night?

*

I had to put away the Haruki Murakami book that I was reading. Once again, I fear that if I ran out of his books to read, I’ll be lost again in the depressed funk that I’m very familiar with and start crying. I made myself noodles and coffee for breakfast this morning. When I was still hungry, I had three crackers and felt bad for having nothing nutritional but carbohydrates.

*

“Hey, are you OK?”

“No.”

“OK.”

The phone ranged and exchanged were three short sentences that lies a whole lot of underlying meaning beneath. The display of concern at the beginning, followed by something which the asker didn’t want to hear, followed by something which the respondent didn’t want to hear. What’s the point of checking in on someone when you know you are incapable of doing anything if she’s not OK? Don’t anyone realize it makes people feel more helpless than she already is?

*
I can’t talk today. Or rather, I’m tired of talking and I have nothing I want to have a control of anymore. Things are not expressed don’t exist. If we strictly abide by the learning of this, reality will crumple. Kingdoms will fall and the government will cease to exist. It’s as simple as that.

“If you don’t say it, how will anyone know it?”

“It exists within me and I know it.”

“Bullshit.”

Goodbye Kitteh.

Everyone damn girl I see;

they look like they will make you happy.

They look like your dream girl...

one of them must be. 

Everyone, anyone

but me.

When Is Too Much Too Much?

I've been sitting alone pondering about the failures I've had in life and asked if I'm indeed as what they have labeled me to be - not strong enough. If I take away the self blaming element of this entire career saga that I've been going through, I realized it isn't me who's flawed. It's the work and elitism system here in Singapore that is. Having been out and about MNCs and SMEs, I noticed the huge jaw dropping difference in both. MNCs care a great deal about employee welfare, SMEs only care about the business. And when you only care about your business, guess what, you shall forever remain as an SME.

I've been down in the rut recently questioning myself once again what is the matter with me. I ran a barrage of questions I had with my friends who worked or work in creative agencies in hope to determine if I've being fairly treated at work. The answer they gave was no. I'm on the client side and rightfully speaking, it shouldn't be as taxing as it is on the agency side. Yet my friends from agencies can tell me, that they think it's too much.

No more self reproach. For I've taken far too much medication to calm myself when I wake in the middle of my sleep to weep like a child. I haven't been sleeping well that's to say. No, I haven't been sleeping at all without the aid of my medication. I'm most probably labelled as flawed and weak in the eyes of workaholics and control freaks. But in all honesty, I don't give a damn. This is my life after all.

Paying Dues

The saying, "You'll never know what you got till it's gone," truly resonates with me.

Not long ago, I enjoyed the surreal luxury of leaving work on time every day, with public holidays and weekends off, and not having to work during sick leave, on paid holidays, or after hours. Now, I find myself grappling with the chaos of modern life. The deeper I dive into social media, the more I lose the precious "me-time" I once had. It feels like I’m always on call—emails and WhatsApp messages flood in no matter where I am or what time it is.

It seems many Singaporeans struggle to grasp the concept of work-life balance. I was fortunate to spend two years at John Wiley & Sons, where I learned what true balance looks like. We were actively discouraged from working after hours, on weekends, and during public holidays. When we were sick, we were expected to focus on recuperating, not replying to emails. If you were working after hours, it raised questions about your productivity during the day. This was their culture.

Additionally, we were granted an extra half day off before every major holiday, recognizing the diverse cultural landscape in Singapore. The UK and US teams understood that when Malays and Indians enjoyed a half day off before CNY and Christmas, the Chinese deserved the same before their New Year. It made sense.

Ironically, I haven’t encountered this kind of understanding in any Singaporean company I’ve worked for, despite the nation’s pride in its multiculturalism.

There’s a misguided belief among some Singaporeans that if you’re sick, you should still be answering emails and texts. If you don’t work after hours or on weekends, you’re seen as lazy. I find this cynical mindset baffling.

I miss my life in the publishing industry, where authors, professors, and doctors were a more pleasant group to work with. The perks that John Wiley offered have set a standard that few companies—except perhaps Google—can match.

I fondly recall walking into the office free from political tension, headphones in, working in a peaceful, conducive environment. I miss the two-hour lunches with colleagues, sharing ideas and discussing politics instead of gossip. I long for the simple pleasure of finishing work at 5:30 PM and walking to the lobby to see my black Mazda waiting for me.

I've come to realize that fame and prestige aren't what I seek. I want to be carefree, yet recognized as an academic—someone who loves books and literature. I’m not interested in writing ostentatious press releases or fancy copy. The spotlight of social media feels overwhelming, and dealing with the online crowd can be stressful. If you’ve spent time on social media, you know exactly what I mean—some people seem to revel in negativity, and there are those who thrive on being cruel.

Becoming Freer

I've always believed there's something more in me. The ability to put thoughts into words without sounding phony, the crisp style of words usage without flamboyance. But the funny thing is, I always thought I was never good enough until I read how Haruki Murakami started writing.

I remember vividly when I was 11, I received my marked English essay and was very surprised that I had scored a high 38/40. The teacher then announced that my essay was the highest in class and also I had topped all combined 4 classes. I wasn't very impressed with myself but I was nonetheless surprised. Because on the day when I handed in the essay, I had thought I was going to flunk it or score really low. My classmate who sat next to me borrowed my essay to read and then returned it together with a black facial expression. I returned the favour with a blank expression as well.

The both of us clearly didn't know how I had managed to top all classes.

The writing style was nothing to boast, the story plot was nothing spectacular where there's a hidden plot twist at the end, the main character was named John.

I had a thought just earlier today (I always have a lot of thoughts) that I could live on $50 a month at a backward village where if I want to drink, I would have to fetch water from the well. That way maybe I could write something, figure out my life and quit smoking altogether.

My Sacrifice

I think this little speck here in the cyberspace is the most brilliant example of paradox. You see, I fucking well know there's no one reading whatever I write here YET at the same time, these words are possibly the truest form of my reality. No pretense, no lies and a whole load of swear words. Yes yes, and whatever that has taken place in the last TEN years of my life. So I am honestly documenting every thoughts I have, every struggle I go through, every breakup, every men I've known and the list goes on.

Ten years later, check back and you might find baby photos. Fifty years later, my writer daughter is going to turn this into a book.

I have 198 songs in my favourite playlist on iTunes that I can never tire of listening. It should be 199. I had forgotten to pull Foo Fighters - Everlong in.

It's 9 August today. One more day and Carl and I would have known each other for two years. He's been really sweet today. It feels like we are back together. Alas, we are not. According to him, he needs this space to be on his own to figure himself out, as well as his future. I mean... What's there to figure out about his future? I am YOUR future babe. But it's okay, you'll see it in due time. You'll never meet another person like me. You know this all too well. How often does one meet someone who's:

1. all your friends love (without having to buy them rounds of shots)
2. watches football with you
3. plays games with you (and bought you Football Manager before anyone in SG gets to play)
4. debates whether 2pac or Biggie was the best rapper ever lived with you
5. eats whatever shit you eat
6. travels with you and carries her own bag
7. fashion savvy enough to style you
8. has a Mensa IQ
9. almost became a Googler
10. am the best in bed that some call her Sex Goddess
11. has a fucking wicked sense of humour

And the list goes on.

So babe, if you're ever reading this, you're really just plain stupid if you never come back. If you did, which you will, you're being wise.

If you're the new girl of his, well, I have a longer list. You might even start to think I'm perfect for him, not you.

12. i speak my mind all the time.

50 Years Into The Future

Lying semi awake in bed, I can't help but to log in here to write down some of the much random and melancholic thoughts I have. As Singapore ushers in her 50th birthday, I tried to flash back as much as I can, peering into my childhood and teenage years, all since the year 1985 in which I was born in. 

Hello 30. 

Time has its way. Whether you think of it having a good horsepower or one akin to a Picanto, it travels linear without showing a tinge of mercy on us. Hitting 30 made me realize I am no longer young. While the days of incessant partying has long gone, I can still smell the sweetness of the residue left behind by the days of my 20s. The rebel, the carefree, and the careless. My body has failed me quite a tremendous bit where four hours of sleep no longer suffice. Aging is real and so is our race against time, the one thing we can never beat.

50 years into the future, Singapore will be celebrating her 100th birthday. Technology would have taken yet another huge evolution and the politicians we see now would have long died. Without doubt, my parents would have also died. And I, will be 80 years old. The idea of losing my parents is devastating in an abstract fashion I would call my own. I do believe there's a paradise which we all go to after our time here is up. That thought makes me happy. Alas, before I can confirm whether this is true, the absence of their presence would be a thing I will notice with regret. They were after all, once roaming on this land, living in the same dimension.

What would I be like when I'm 80? Will I have a lot of children? Grandchildren? Will I still remember this feeling I have right now when I'm old and feeble? Will I be placed in a nursing home thinking about my husband who had died before me? Will I be a happy elder? Will I still remember I do social media for a living? Would I have, by then, be able to decide whether 2pac was a better rapper or Biggie? 

How will Singapore change? How will the world change? Will it be an apocalyptic one which Interstellar best depicts? Will mankind be struggling to find a chance to live in the unknown dimension? 

With so many questions on hand and I have no answers for. I know I can only wait to find out. Knowing that we are all in fact dying, and time is the one which will eventually kills us, I no longer wish to chase fame, prestige and money. 

I only want more time.

Just One of Those Days.

I have heard this saying for a million times, "When something doesn't kill you, it makes you stronger," and I have a very opposing view of this. Sans the belief that everyone lives a life that's akin to a bed of rose, I am absolutely certain that you too have had something in your life that didn't kill you. It may have made you stronger, it may have made you a better person but sure, you would have changed quite a bit from the experience. To quote a book that I read years ago by Marian Keyes, this sentence she wrote has been deeply etched in my head which I stand proud to believe even until today: 

"When something doesn't kill you, it makes you funnier."

I have always thought that from the photographs one takes, you're able to sorta tell what kind of emotional landscape she happens to have at the moment. I have always wished that I was a better photographer, but on a self-comforting thought here, I perhaps fare better at words than capturing moments. 

Today is one of the days where I will work once again. After a newly found disgust for weekends, #TGIF hasn't meant anything to me since. I find myself empty and lost on Friday evenings, not having the same dose of joy that once meant a lot ot me. So I diverted a lot of attention to work, online and offline shopping and also alcohol and cigarettes. 

I had successfully quit smoking for about a hundred days. Kicking an 18-year addiction, I became a social smoke with a snap of a finger, just because I had wished to be healthier, a lovelier person for Carl. At the end of the day, I realized when I'm in need of company and something to do, cigarettes never betrays. And alcohol is my temporary solace that I could have from all the madness I have within myself when I am sober. 

Who the fuck says it's wrong to drink to escape from problems and woes? Does this person even understand how it feels like to be miserable and yet pretending to be positive and strong on the outside for 150 days? Does this person know how it feels like to cry for 150 nights? 

My escape consists nothing short of alcohol, cigarettes and the utmost desire to run from the reality that's right before me to a past where I was carefree and happy. 

Good Woman

I have a thing for giving the title of any entry here the name of the song I happen to be listening to. When others think of it as nothing special, I think there's a lot to it. If the Universe chose to play the song (Spotify) when the urge in me to write was brought forth, then it must damn mean something. I believe, in some extent, that this is how the Universe is communicating with me. At this point of time, the Universe is telling me something.

I don't want be a bad woman

And I can't stand to see you be a bad man

I will miss your heart so tender

And I will love

This love forever

And this is why I am leaving

And this is why I can't see you no more

This is why I am lying when I say

That I don't love you no more

'Cause I want (to) be a good women

And I want for you to be a good man

And I was right wasn't I?

These four months have come and gone in a fashion that is not favoured by me. During this period of time that has passed, I have cried and bawled more than I ever did in my life. I have cried in the shower, I have cried before bed, I have cried when I took the train, I have cried when I was on the bus, I have cried at work, I have cried in all places you could possibly thought of. And surprisingly, I am still crying today after Carl and I have broken up for four months.

I have not gone on a holiday, reserving myself for him. I have not gone on any dates and I haven't had the desire to find someone new. They say the best way to get over someone is to find someone new. But what happens when you are sure you want no one else but that one person who doesn't want you? Do we give up and let go just because it's easier to do so, or do we stay put standing at the same spot because pain is the only feeling that you could feel in order to feel closer to the person? Whether it's walking away from a love you cherish so dear or staying put, it hurts nonetheless isn't it? Crying is my expression of hurt and pain.

"Yes, you can leave and hope for the best," I thought to myself on the train ride home this evening. I can hope for the best. But I too wish to fight for what I really want. It's my way of survival and I was taught that this is the way to do things. I have fought for who I am now, what I have now, and possibly the little achievements I have now. So when it comes to matters of the heart, why shouldn't I put up a fight? Isn't perseverance the only ingredient anyone need to achieve anything?

It's 2 July today and Carl and I are still not back together. It's my birthday soon and I don't want a new bag, not riches, not fancy dinner at fancy restaurants. I only ever want Carl and I to be back together. Not the same manner we were before but better.

Is this too much to ask for?

Opera Ghost

It's Saturday and I'm at home reading A Wild Sheep Chase by Haruki Murakami while listening to The Phantom of the Opera. How long have I not listened to it? Quite a substantial amount of time. How long haven't I stayed home on a Saturday to read, have coffee and listen to the opera? I can't remember but this doesn't feel brand new at all. This feels like I've once again returned home.

[At this point of time, Prima Donna came on. It's one of my favourite segments of the opera. Mainly because, if you realized, there were six of them intersecting one another at the same time. How they managed to keep up to the arrangement while not forgetting a beat and remember their cues while not getting distracted by others absolutely amazes me. Wait, there were six of them right?]

It's once again Saturday. What used to excite me a hefty lot now hurts me. There is anger building in me and I can feel myself gradually slipping away, choosing to be angry while I try to regain my worth by being myself -- the same and only bed of roses that Carl has managed to trample on and destroy. I'm a train that has run out of steam. The irony is while there's something burning inside, it's not the same kind of fuel that's pushing me forward to chase my dream. On the contrary, it's the kind of fuel that's pushing me the other direction. 

Of late, I found myself thinking about Ben a lot. Maybe because I've started to listen to The Phantom of the Opera again. I suppose one can hurt thinking about one man and seek comfort in another who used to hurt you. With time, all anger has dissipated and faint are the memories of the both of us fighting every night. All that are brought forth now are fond memories of the both of us together. But we're over isn't it? We will never have our paths crossed again. One thing I don't understand is why are people generally OK with loving someone who had once betrayed them mentally, physically and emotionally? I can't do that. Maybe because I'm a Leo and I pride loyalty above everything else. 

Never say Never

I wonder who still visit this space of mine here, one that I've been diligently updating every now and then since 2006. It's been 9 years and this space could well be the only thing I can easily trace back the forgotten past and the perhaps revisit emotions trapped somewhere if they are ever found again.

My insides are churning as I pen this now. My eyes are welled up with tears yet I am not crying. My heart rests the same, surrounded by my rib cage, beating in clockwork. We know a heart is a fist that pumps blood but at this moment, I wonder how a broken heart is able to do that. Still, I am living, I am breathing and I am in pain. 

So much has happened since February. I have lost the man of my dreams, the one who I thought I'll be with forever, the one who told me that all he's ever wanted of me is for me to be happy. Yet, all this unhappiness I am going through right now is summoned by his decision to end us. If our relationship is as what he's claimed, cherished, memorable and precious, why was the decision made in the first place? If I am one, who he's claimed to be, significant, important and valued, why did he choose to lose me? If this isn't love that he's feeling, to be crying, to be caring a damn lot about what I feel and think even until this day, then what is it? 

God, Universe, I wonder if you had heard me the other night where I pray to release me of this grief and pain. I would rather forget everything than to go through this again and again. I want to forget. I want to forget every thing. I want to forget him. 

So it seems,
the way you feel,
your frustration,
your patience running thin,
is all that matters to you.

And what I've been through,
what I'm going through,
doesn't call for a chink in your armor,
doesn't call for a bat of eyelid,
doesn't send a wrench to your heart,

You're the human.
And I'm only an object.
I have no feelings,
no thoughts,
no voice,
of any sorts.

Fortune Telling

There was a year I went to have my fortune read.

"In the future, you will meet someone who you will love a lot but he won't reciprocate. When that happens, it's crucial you surround yourself with family and friends for you might do something foolish."

He then continued, "You will never be happy working. And you will only be happy when you are in your 40s."

At this moment, I refused to let him be right. He then went on to pass away the year after.

I Wished

I wished I had controlled myself better
I wished I was stronger
I wished I hadn't gone down this path
I wished I am not back at square one

But I am

I hate this. I hate you.

White Noise is The Artwork Installation Babe

I wonder who still reads this here. As compared to other blogs where people only post glamourous photos of themselves, this is obviously the opposite. And no one enjoys reading a blog where there's no photos, beautiful girls and body expose shots.

Sometimes, I wish someone will agree with me when I said Time is our best enemy. Time is the best weapon to kill things. I slowly feel I'm drifting away with each minute. I'm standing at this place right now where I could clearly see things that happened in the past now. I'm seeing things that had taken place over the last year. Engulfed with sheer memories, I realized I couldn't shed yet another tear anymore. I guess that's what people refer to as complete numbness.

Left behind is self that doesn't feel.

And I noticed the departure of my soul with dismay.

Monotony is inevitable;

The sense of loss of things,

The loss of sense of time. 

***

And under the water you scream so loud but the silence surrounds you

But I hear it loud and you fall in the deep and I'll always find you

If my red eyes don't see you anymore

And I can't hear you through the white noise

20,000 leagues away, catch up to you on the same day

Travel at the speed of light, thinking the same thought at the same time

Heart beats at a steady pace, I'll let the rhythm show me the way

No one can find us here, fade out and disappear

- Blue Ocean Floor, Justin Timberlake 

***

Do you still remember how I smile when I first tasted medovick at pasarbella?

Do you remember the hello kitty pancakes I made at slappy cakes?

Do you remember our marketing spin for it?

Winter in March.

I am known to be expressive, creative and very good at articulating my thoughts. That's what I'm known I guess.

A lot of people don't realize about me, is that my thoughts tend to erupt in a dynamic fashion, they are never linear. When I look at things, I see its future, its past and the possibility of having it altered some way along the road. If I look at someone and I want that person near all the time, I look at his future, his past and wonder if there's anything I could do to his past to help me better understand him in this present, which may lead to me having him near me in the future. Thus, I have an undying curiosity about everyone's past. I like to know you from your past before I could go on to know you in this present and dive into your future.

Many think I'm expressive and outspoken. The truth is, I am not. I'm one better with written words. And my journals are my chambers of thoughts. I have a journal for everyone that matters to me. And I have one journal that I keep for myself. They are all my written thoughts and I know my memory is as fleeting as time. When time pulls me away from something I want to remember, I'll end up forgetting somehow. I yearn to remember the way Bennett and Benjamin made me feel. But time has pulled me further than I was meant to. I couldn't fight it.

As humans, we all feel pain. It's only right to express pain. It's only right to feel pain. Winter has fallen on me this March. And I'm left here alone to deal with my thoughts that don't travel in linear, my pain, my solitude and all the cold.

For Carl:

Winter came this March.

Gentle snow befalls around

a heart left alone and cold.

She can't make you stay

because you were never hers

She could only let you go

and wait for Spring

Till then

it'll be gentle white snow, 

soft, cold and lonely

Sun, will you ever shine?

Spring, will you ever come?

Let's hit restart all over again.

I kinda have a lot to say so I'm on my phone (my tiny iPhone 5) writing this out. Good thing Apple has got quite a remarkable predictive language build in. This will explain the lack of typos in this entry here but anyway!

You know I just returned from Bali right? Right. I had a helluva great time and couldn't remember when was the last time I did. So yes! I had a great time holiday making in Bali and damn I love the laid back vibe of it. Though it was helluva short, 3D2N, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. So I came back to Singapore on Sunday.

Now this is where the twist of fate comes in and bit me in my ass. I think because I went out to the beach on Saturday, I started to develop really itchy and bad rashes all over my body. They come and go and Carl assured me that they will go away eventually. Unbeknownst to me, Sunday turned out to be a terrible day where the itch was unbearable that when I was having massage, I kinda felt my massueue was tickling me instead.

So I came back to Singapore on Sunday evening thinking they will go away eventually as really, this is my fucking first time having sand rash. On Monday morning, it didn't go away. So I had rashes all over my body that is really uncontrollably itching the shit out of me. I had to see the doctor for relief I know. So I called in work sick. Taboo right? MC right after a holiday? Please, if it's your body having all the rashes I bet you won't even want to leave your house without wearing a brown lunch bag over your head. I went to the panel of GP that my work recommends and the doctor merely gave me oral medication for relief and what I call, temporary tripping sensation that is sleep inducing. Why didn't he give me some cream to apply? I have no fucking idea. Maybe because the rash had subsided a little but really I highly doubt the case because I went to my family doctor just today and he gave me Elomet cream and which the entire consultation turned out to be 60 bucks! So I concluded that the GP I went to yesterday was just stingy.

So who's to blame that I couldn't recover in time? That GP no fucking doubt.

But you know something? After this itch saga, I found out how unhappy I've been at my job for the longest period of time. Persevering all this while, I couldn't help but to type out my resignation letter this afternoon. You may call me rash (hahaha! The irony) but seriously, a couple of red flags were raised just because I'm covered in rashes after I returned from my Bali trip. I didn't choose to be a monkey I repeat.

For the longest time, I had thought I had the perfect job around. I really did try to hoodwink myself into believing I did. But no, just today, I finally was able to pin point what's wrong in my current placement. Firstly, there had been no propped training and i really feel that I have been misinformed of what my role entails. Since the beginning, there had never been a proper flow or standard way to do things. Most of the time I feel I was just a headless chicken trying to find my answer, in hope I'll seek enlightenment. Which, you guessed it, most of the time I don't get things done right. How am I supposed to when I wasn't given a clear set of SOPs or instructions to follow through? And when I didn't get things done right, I have been bestowed the feeling of being penalised (note that I am only barely four months old at the job and I was entrusted to deal with a lot of business as usual stuff as well as being actively involved in the rolling out of new initiatives and projects). Why is it my fault then?

In addition, I came to a conclusion that I am not a right cultural fit for the organization. It's never easy to work for a local company for me. I should have learned this aeons ago. Wait a minute, I've worked in local companies before and I didn't feel I wasn't a good fit? Ok, whatever. Let's just say I'm not living up to expectations and I am certainly not a right fit for the company.

I quit.

Un-happy.

I'm possibly by far the most unhappy person you'll ever met in life. This is not to be confused with the most unfortunate person you'll ever meet. I'm saying this because it really seems I have everything but at the end of each day as I lie awake doing nothing in bed, all I could ever daydream about is to have a life that's rid of commitments, feeling, heartstrings. I am constantly dreaming about being somewhere alone out there, be it the wilderness or in space, where I can do nothing but just being still.

Don't get me wrong. I am not a Hollywood celebrity where I'm required to put on a facade every day nor am I a teacher of any sort where it's important I set myself as a role model. I'm just your average singaporean girl who lives next door, a plain Jane with nothing much to brag about. You could easily say I am one of those faces you won't spot in a crowd.

It seems that no matter how hard I try to be content with what I'm doing, I'll never be thoroughly happy. Many so often, when I'm religiously and duly carrying out tasks at work, I find myself asking "what for?" Corporate life doesn't enthrall me, neither does societal status. And I can't fit in to the society because I don't really give a hood if you're a manager or a director, neither do I care about that of myself. And so, I'm perpetually on the embarkation of questioning my existence every day.

I wished I wasn't born this way. That I could be a tad normal. I know I am unhappy in life constantly. But what is it I'm seeking to be a happier person remains unclear.

Can I really let go of whatever I have now to live alone in the wild?

Crossroad

From the way this post is titled, I'm sure you with a good sense there, would have guessed that this post is about Boyz II Men's End of the Road song.

Nah, I'm kidding.

So in less than four months (that's right, not even half a year) I have once again met ANOTHER crossroad in my career. Which is pretty unlucky if you asked me but this is what I have to say...

FUCK.

Here's the story, I joined a local small start-up (even smaller than the one before the publishing big boy) and the deal was that I will be made a digital marketing pro in three months as they scale up in operations and blah blah in the later half of the year. Which I naively believe because I genuinely believe in the company and gave away 80% of my skepticism when I decided to put my signature down on the employment contract.

But wow, these past three months have been quite an eye-opener. As with any local startup, I went in with the mentality that I'm supposed to take on more than what I should and I was ready and up for it. But sadly, after about a month, I began to question whether there was any mentorship in place, training that was clearly fallen short of (I honestly didn't get briefed on the entire business strategy, operations and blah blah at all) and the existence of the light at the end of the tunnel.

In essence -- that's to say -- in about a month's time, I began to question myself and also, my initial judgement. Upon noticing this, I began walking into work every day with contempt and didn't actually look forward to it any more. Surprise, surprise. Just after one month.

But I sucked it up, and decided that I should be MORE proactive and take MORE initiative. So I requested for, an one-month check-in, a two-month check-in, weekly meetings with my boss and the rest of the team members, and also the department which I was supposedly to be working very closely with.

UNFORTUNATELY FOR ME, when end of September should have been my confirmation, I was asked to leave because:

1. They need someone with more experience who could act as the right brain of the team
2. My boss said it's not his capacity any more to train me
3. He said it's his failure

DAMN RIGHT IT IS.

Because I reckon I have:

1. Been honest about my lack of experience when I went for the interviews
2. Taken MORE initiative than anyone could have and determine my OWN JD, role, and responsibility
3. Requested for check-ins so as to find out about my progress and whether I've been measuring up to my expectations
4. Chaired meetings so as to promote transparency among the team

One thing here which I must mention is that maybe they find me a snob/stuck up/anti-social/introverted at work and I didn't fit in the culture. Because as I was weeping over this failed initial judgement of mine in front of my boss when he broke the news to me the other day, I asked him whether was there a possibility of me moving lateral across (for also formality's sake) and he answered no. This, I concluded that my existence in the co. wasn't welcomed at all and that they want to let me go completely.

Here's the story why I could have been portraying myself as a snob/stuck up/anti-social/introverted:

1. I am really bad at small talks
2. When I work, I work
3. Don't expect me to come to you with cookies cause I can't bake
4. I don't carry balls too

One thing for sure is that, in my previous employment, in all the roles that I had undertaken, NO ONE ever told me that I shouldn't pass my probation period. And let alone, ask me to leave.

On the contrary, I have always been receiving nothing but good appraisals from all my previous bosses. Just fucking ask.

ISIS: I SEE IT SUCKS

I would like to express my deepest condolence toward the families of the victims of the (shitty and absolutely lame) ISIS drama. You have my deepest sympathy. Your son, brother, husband or father didn't have to go through this way of passing. 

Those who are committing heinous crimes in the name of YOUR GOD, stop it. You're just plain evil and are using God's name to be evil. Just admit that you're plain downright evil and inhuman. Don't use God's name. Fuckers. 

Why hide behind masks anyway if you're so wanting the world to watch how you behead people? Those people you beheaded are decent people. The world doesn't need people like YOU. You're no different from Hitler except that he came out and faced the world without hiding behind masks. He had balls and you have none.

You're nothing but a speck of dust. Hitler made it to history but what will you become in the future? 

And to the number of people flying over just so you can be involved in terrorism in the name of God (I reiterate), you guys fit very well into the equation that I've done up for a segment of people that I have encountered a lot in my life:

IQ Less Than 100 = Easily Brainwashed

You're dumb cause you don't have a mind of your own because if you do, you wouldn't have been convinced to join in the terrorism demonstration.

If you wish to argue that you're not dumb, then you must be intelligent I believe? Like the female British medical student who flew all the way there just to behead someone and tweeted about it with a photo saying, "dream job, a terrorist doc"? Her Twitter account has been suspended so how smart can she be? I don't know if she's really a she (as she's hiding behind the costume) but I don't know any woman who has such an evil and warped heart. The only female who I've ever known to have such a bad personality was my late hamster who I named Nunu. She ate her babies.

To the British medial student who's reading this: I don't know why your parents spent that kind of money on you. If only they had spent that kind of money on my education, I will be your school principal and expel you from school. Or I'll be your rich classmate who will rally up a few mates to cyber bully you until you take your own life had I long known that you're going to partake in such activity and threw your entire life out the window. 

You're an absolute disgrace to the education system, women and the entire England. 

So if you're insisting that you're somewhat intelligent like the medical student and really think you haven't been brainwashed into joining terrorism, you must be plain evil.

You need to be ashamed of yourself. And think of cockroaches. They are better than you.

August 3 2014

I had this sudden urge to pen something and so here I am.

Checking the work email, I realized I had used the same password as the one I had before I left Wiley. A flash of memory bolted through, I thought things would be so much better if I had Kenneth, Natra, Req... basically the usual lunch clique for Monday to Friday. It's amazing how colleagues play a part in your well-being. 

I wanted to talk about Carl. I think I should. Lest one day I forget. 

One year ago, I met Carl. A 34 year old who was in between jobs at the time. We started hanging out as friends but things got slightly serious as time passes. I wouldn't go into the nitty gritty details because at age 29, I find them rather meaningless. However, I will never forget the first time we met, the days where we were getting to know each other and the feeling that was evoked. I can still remember the feeling vividly now. It's wasn't the thrill of knowing someone new. If I have been right all along, it was the feeling of knowing someone who you've known all your life. 

Time proves me right. A year later, I am still discovering more about this person who I feel I've known all my life. And I'm not getting bored. We're not getting bored. I hope we will never be. 

I never needed to pretend or say things I don't mean. From the day we met, I have been myself and haven't been afraid to be. I used to think that something was wrong with me because of the endless fights I used to have with Benjamin... But it turns out, nothing was wrong with me. Perhaps nothing was wrong with Ben too... We were just wrong.

If we were, then it'll further prove that Carl and I were right. Or maybe Carl is really an easy-going person who puts up with me. 

Last night, I thought he was on the onset of dating another person or having met someone new. I unintentionally saw a message notification and saw that he dismissed it without even wanting to respond to that message. I got disturbed and decided to turn in. The feeling was hard to swallow and with the company of the ongoing in my life now, tears began welling up my eyes and before I knew it, I was sniffling. Carl got worked up after I asked him who it was. Having explained that it was just a friend, I didn't budge and turn my back to face him. When he heard the sniffles, he lunged himself behind me and took me in his arms. What followed was a string of placate that I've never known he was capable of doing. That moment, I felt that he loves me. 

"I'm here baby. I'm not going anywhere. Don't cry." 

Today at MUJI, I asked him the same set of questions again -- if he's met someone new, on the onset of seeing someone and do I make him happy. I must say what happened after took me by surprise for I've never known Carl to be this way. Instead of getting frustrated with girl insecurities and paranoia, he pulled me close and kissed me. Then he went on to answer me no and yes. No to the first two questions and yes, of course to the latter. 

"Of course you make me happy."

People say time erases things -- all things. Feelings, memories, passion and watercolours. What I feel is that if two persons are meant to make things right, they will only get better. For Carl and I, we've had our downs no doubt -- there were times where we almost call it quits because if you're not already aware, he doesn't love me. He didn't love me when I start loving him and until now, he hasn't told me he loves me. I am not pinning that he will but of course, I hope he will one day. Right now at this moment, even when he doesn't love me, he makes me feel I'm the most fortunate person around in this world, I'm spoiled and cared for by him as his girl. And whether or not he loves me, I don't really think it matters now. 

A year has passed and my heart beats for him fiercer than before. If this feeling he making me feel -- that I am the luckiest girl on earth -- is here even when he doesn't love me, maybe I'll dance and prance in the milky way when one day he finally says he loves me. 

One day when it happens, I might cry. No. I'm sure I will cry. 

Very Brand New.

I realized I used to be a lost ship.

I didn't really fancy doing anything for myself, chasing what I want and making myself become a better person. I was constantly waiting for something to happen to me. Or should I say, I was waiting for a break. A lucky break.

Then it came.

Quit the publishing job to join a digital marketing agency and left in two days, I would have incurred a substantial amount of severance package of about 10k had I stayed in Wiley and waited for them to retrench me instead. That money is not a small sum and I wonder if I'll ever see such a sum in my life. Joining the digital marketing agency was a big mistake. That until today, I still feel bile at the back of my throat thinking about the place and its people.

I was out of job for about three weeks and almost slipped into a depressed funk but then my lucky break came. I cannot reiterate how grateful I am to my present company, my boss and my CEO for wanting to hire and groom me -- at a reasonable salary which will then be adjusted again upon my probation. Money aside. Think about how decent beings they are for not wanting to short change you even though you don't have relevant experience. I know that is what most companies do. But they didn't. And the amount of time and effort grooming me and helping me learn my ropes, it's simply priceless. Thinking about this, I feel really bad and I'm evermore determined to work harder and give more than I had possibly given to any organization.[Edited on 27 September 2014: No. It's all a fucking lie that was spun and I had been duped]

The career department seems in place now. So let's talk about myself.

I am starting to feel that I'm becoming a more attractive person. As in, I haven't really lost a lot of weight and my skin condition hasn't really gone back to the way it was but I do feel this sense of power coming from within. It's a type of confidence I've never experienced before. I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I finally saw light at the end of the tunnel. Finally it's linear.

And I'm seeing the most wonderful person I've ever met in my entire life for about 11 months who always makes time for me, makes me laugh, cares about me, talks to me, listens to me and makes an effort to make me happy; who is also, very charming, kind, humourous, surprising, generous, gentle, gives me solid advice and suggestions when it comes to my career and has a solid career of his own. Where on earth will I ever find someone like that again?

I am a seriously happy person now. Contented, fulfilled and just smiling, working, reading, dieting and eating all the time now.

惱春風　我心因何惱春風

說不出　借酒相送

夜雨凍　雨點透射到照片中

回頭似是夢　無法彈動　迷住凝望你　褪色照片中

啊　像花雖未紅　如冰雖不凍　卻像有無數說話　可惜我聽不懂

啊　是杯酒漸濃　或我心真空　何以感震動

照片中　哪可以投照片中

盼找到　時間裂縫

夜放縱　告知我難尋你芳蹤

回頭也是夢　仍似被動　逃避凝望你　卻深印腦中

The world today is such a confusing place to be in. When we were younger, we were told to work towards the things we want in life -- to have the go-getter attitude. Because of this, and that everyone else is doing it, we slip into this same pattern where in we visualize the person we want to be and start working towards it.

Firstly, it was studies. It was a standard that having As for all your papers is the only way to go. As a result, we slogged our ways out burning midnight oil, missed our favourite TV shows, missed a family birthday celebration, missed a trip out with friends just because it was told to us by everyone around us -- the society.

And then we graduate and dive into the society. And the same cycle repeats itself again. We missed the things that are important to us just because we were too busy being the person we have visualized we will be. It's an irony. It doesn't make sense to me. Being the person we want to be is important, and yet these occasions are important too. Life is a great balancing act because it is always lop-sided in some ways.

And the society once again came into play when it comes to relationships. We were told that this and that should be the way. We were convinced by media that love should be this way. As a result once again, we visualize the love we want to have and then measure up everyone who comes along against the ideal. We visualize the person who we want to be when in love and start acting it resulting in we forgetting to receive what we receive. We keep demanding for more because things don't go as expected -- the ideal that we have. Then you start asking yourself why you are miserable and that nothing ever seems enough. You keep asking yourself this question throughout adulthood and along the way, you lost so much of your innocence.

On one fine afternoon, the song by Colin Raye came on. I was asked if the song was depressing to be a wedding song.

"No. It's a very sweet song."

I love you Carl.

Fault in our Stars

The soundtrack is great. The Fault in our Stars that is. I am looking for a wishlist I can do up to include the books I need to read. This is on top of my list and it's very unfortunate that I'm very broke now. I can't even buy the book. If there's any good people out there, please buy me a gift-card on booksdepository.com. State your name and I shall return the favour one day. Nothing sexual of course.

I am broke and it's soon I'll dive into my first pool of debts. The very first time. I just told the girls, PW and XX that I have no money for Macadeedees and PW said she's going to pay for my meal. How much I owe PW & WM the couple? A lot. True friends in a true story.

I've once again, come to another crossroad in life. Left the publishing big boy and tried to join an agency. For you all haters out there who had told me that life in an agency is hard and that I won't be able to take it cause you were jealous that I seemingly got myself a better job, you can gloat now. Laugh at me all you want for I've sacked the boss -- the cruel and almost inhumane boss. Spoke to my family and close friends about it and they were all supportive of my decision. Because they know me well. That I value a healthy balance in life -- that I am not my work and my work does not define who I am. I am a true artist. I don't work well in this race the rats run. I function at will and I am the most brilliant when I am left to roam and explore.

That is why I have decided that I will attempt to finish the story that I've started writing. I might name it A Novel in 30 Days. But first, I need to find the most conducive environment to do so. With plenty of time on hand, I might go to the National Library tomorrow. I had initially thought of the beach. But they don't have a power point there I can use.

So, I have been spending my time well, getting busy with my sister's wedding preparations. Which I didn't do much actually except to be in charge of the AV (I told everyone I was the Adult Video I/C), making sure my Dad doesn't disappear too frequently to smoke, playing host to relatives who I hardly see who I don't really care if they just have a kid or cancer, letting them sing compliments that they don't mean, engage them in conversations that don't matter and you know the rest. These events disgust me. I mean it's great to see everyone alive and kicking. But I don't comprehend the idea of getting together for that few hours, talk as if we're best friends and simply forget about each other when we wake the next day. It doesn't make sense right? What's worst, is that you know how some of them have a vicious tongue. The perfect put-downs, the sarcasm, the green with envy tone in their words... oh my god, give me a break already. I have just recently got rid of the toxic people in my life.

The wedding day was emotional for me having to see my sister getting married and starting a new life altogether. There were moments of self-reflection, definitely more than the usual. For even in the eyes of my own, I am still behaving like a little child. Perhaps a wild one just that I don't sleep around. And I'm worried most of the time that I might never grow up to be a woman, a wife and a mother.

I think my life is a joke. I look at the sky sometimes at night and wonder why I'm being left here in this concrete jungle. Life might be better for me if I'm born a tribal woman in Amazon. I have no skills. The only thing I'm capable of is to dream. And whilst I am capable of that, I tried so many times to pen these dreams down in words. Alas, I'm not a linguist too. The idea here now, is that if I'm born a tribal woman in Amazon, I might pick up hunting skills, cooking skills, milking skills, foraging skills and the likes.

This sounds like I'm spiralling into a depressed funk (note that I really love this catchy phrase a lot) but I've never been so calm and composed for years. I love waking up in the morning now, breathing in the fresh air and appreciating the beauty that mornings bring. I love listening to the birds chirp even when it's actually crows loudly croaking away.

Everlong

I want to blabber nonsense. It's just one of those days. Foo Fighters' Everlong planted this urge in me, bringing forth an impetus to want to run, go all out, scream and shout and say " Ha! I'll live forever!"

So back in my mind today at work, I daydreamed about myself running alongside time, chasing every possibilities, every thing it has in store for me. It's like a race with time. A race that I know that eventually I'll be outran. But still, I want to keep running. Just run and run. Run.

While I was proof-reading, I jammed in my head -- a moment I was the bassist and a while later I was the drummer. Hitting my feet real hard on the ground, I had regretted not having worn my very worn black converse. Still, I couldn't help but to dream that I was in a band, I was having a million fans. I was their God. I was who they look up to, I was everything they want to be.

I want to fucking get lost.