HAVE I TOLD ANYONE THAT I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO BE IN BAND?!

Here I am, 

in silence, 

comforted by the words of a friend, 

a piece of advice she has for me.

I feel better knowing,

that maybe it's not you don't, 

it's that the time isn't right.

In silence,

I'll wait.

And remain as the girl you know,

like,

and intrigued by.

I like to keep things to myself. To be exact, I like to keep things that sadden me to myself. I don't see a point in telling anyone about it. It might be true that you'll feel better after telling someone about it. But more than often, anyone outside the circle of involvement won't be able to fully grasp the depth of what you are saying or whatever you are saying at all. So I've learnt to keep things to myself.

The past two days have been a turmoil. It has caused the both of us distress. We've cried in each other's arms and we've expressed our fear in losing each other. We do care for each other and we're always happy together. Our times together consist nothing short of laughter, fun and love. Sadly, the love that I had thought it was, wasn't it after all.

I thought whatever I was left with when I met you died and I wanted so much to right things. I don't know how. I really want to take your hand and run away to somewhere where there's only the two of us. I really want to hold your hand and tell you how much I love you.

I don't need to own you, I don't need to have you with me. As long as you're happy wherever you are, in whatever you do, with whoever who truly cares for you, I'm happy. I will be even though I wish I should be the person loving you, making you breakfast and kissing you good night.

The more I say, the worse things might be. The more we talk about it, the fainter the beauty of the past lies. I used to say your name with fondness and love, now I just can't bring myself to anymore. And it's not because I don't love you, it's because I'm slowly letting go of this hurt and pain. I am not unreasonable nor am I illogical. I know I can never force you to love me. The more you kiss me now, the closer you hold me now, all I can think of is how these are my make-believe. These have all along been my make-believe. And it kills the beauty of our past, everything I had thought was there. If this continues, what would be left of us but an empty shell of lies and pretence? I cannot do this and I cannot let this happen. For the past six months were very dear and precious to me. I had hopes and dreams about us getting right and spending the rest of our lives together this way. At least now, I know they once existed.

It will be true to say that I can never listen to any R&B song the same way again. I can never go anywhere and eat everything the same way without thinking of you. Looking at the Spotify icon on my desktop is going to hurt now. Last night I took photos of your room and told myself that that might be the last I'll ever be in it. Knowing that you're going to move back to your house soon, I asked if you will miss everything that had happened in this room. In my head, I know that with the moving into of the new room, whatever that's going to be left behind might just be left behind. Knowing this, I am comforted at the thought that my leaving might not hurt you at all. Maybe it's still the same bed you'll be sleeping on but the four corners are going to change. So I took photos of the room and kissed Snoop goodbye, just in case I never get to see him again.

You're a darling and it pains me to see you in pain. It really does. It hurts to see you cry. It hurts to see you torn. It hurts to see you struggle to give me what I want. I don't ever want you hurt Kitteh. I love you. I just want you happy, that's all.

Love,
Bunneh

Uninterested.

The first entry of the new year. It's Saturday and I'm at home - surprise surprise! Carl has gone out to sea with his mates and I'm supposed to be doing some spring cleaning today. I should! I really should! Just in case you thought he's not making enough time for me, I spent the night with Carl (as usual)and came back this morning. Uh huh, we always make time for each other at least once a week no matter how busy we are. I hope the interview he went to yesterday pans out for him. He deserves this people. He's such a darling.

Things are looking up right now. I start to feel I actually can be pretty hopeful. It seems, I don't actually hate my job that much after assuring myself that I'm probably the best project manager one would ever find. And finally, for the first time in life, I feel it's something I can leverage for what I'm going to do in the future. My CV is tweaked with more professionalism now (added a second colour for aesthetics though). I signed up for a three day social media marketing course at ISS, NUS and I have intentions to become a certified project manager. Out of the sudden, my career objectives are finally in place! Having searched for that for a while, finally I'm beginning to see light at the end of the tunnel albeit not a defining streak.

I hope everything goes smoothly for the Carl and me. I think our relationship is great; we enjoy each other's company (for the past five months); we have never fought [don't jinx it C] and God, how I can see myself waking up to this every day. It's bliss isn't it? Something has changed in me - I actually want to cook for him, take care of him, support and encourage him in everything he thinks is right and work alongside him for my future, his future and our future (if there is). Geez, have I finally become a woman?

There's a part in me that wants to continue writing in that Germanic diary and send it out to that person who gave it to me after I'm done but come to think of it now, who the fuck cares about your sentimental side C.

I have the best right before my eyes now and God, I am going to love him right and I will never ever let him go.

Time to hone the cleaning skills now.

Looking back

As 2014 draws near, I can't help but to get a little melancholic looking and thinking back of the past year. Partly because the period is about due soon, I find myself having emotional issues that I can find no reason for. The expectations I have of everyone around me don't match what I've been provided with and this makes me feel terrible inside. And for as long as I've lived, this has been the root of all my unhappiness - I finally realized that all the unhappiness I have been bottling up stemmed from the aforementioned.

I don't remember anything I've done for myself and I don't recall any achievement which I've proudly etched to the wall of fame. Say from apart from the quite useless advanced diploma in business management that I've obtained, there's nothing more I've added to my belt this year.

Vivid enough however, was 25 February where something magical happened and 9 March. And 28 August when my world collapsed. Ever since, I've become quite out of touch with myself. Picked up an obsession with working out and losing it recently due to the festive season. Spending lots of money without having a clear picture of my ROI, pretending to be Paris Hilton and not wanting to finish the last few chapters of 1Q84. The year has gone by in a blur. Most of the time, I had no idea what I was doing.

Actually, it really doesn't matter/hurt anymore. But I don't know why, every time I feel low, I find myself running back to 25 February.

Today, I shared with my colleague that I finally found the reason why fewer women want to give birth these days. The reason: their friends who get married and have babies before they do. Here's why:

• Your married and was once impregnated friend messages you every day to talk about the baby that she has given birth to.
• Every motherfuggin entry these women post on every motherfuggin social media platform is photos of their babies, articles they chance upon somewhere relating to motherhood and babies, and how China is making soup out of fetuses and coating them in batter before throwing them into pots of boiling oil. 

I'm definitely not sore because I'm single and have no babies. I just really want to let you know, if you're one of these girls, that you are annoying. And your baby is just going to be another human being. And just for your info, your vagina has expanded in size by at least three inches after childbirth. Because you're forever talking about the baby, your husband finds your married life revolving around another human being instead of him. Don't let your husband contribute another head count to the rising rate of infidelity and please, cut everyone some slack by knowing the fact that our lives don't have to revolve around your baby. 

Why is everyone having babies?

#shithappens

The people who used to matter a lot to me no longer mean that much now. I needed them in my life but I don't want them now. I think it's impossible to alter the way I function - that when I don't give a fucking fuck about you, you're often labelled as a fucktard in my world.

"I don't fucking give a fucking fuck about you fucktard."

Sometimes, most of the times actually, I find grasping the meaning of everything a seemingly impossible task. Food we eat every day, exercise regime we enthusiastically engage ourselves in just to have a hotter bod, meditation to have a calmer mind and the list goes on. This goes on again and again, matching the rhythm of time. The various rituals we carry out until the day we can no longer don't seem to make life any more meaningful.

Am I the only one who feel this way?

I'm afraid of dying this way.

Maybe one day I'll be able to understand what kind of pain this exactly is - one that has successfully rendered me into running around, seeking solace.

Maybe one day I'll be able to understand how someone can hurt another this way.

But when that day finally comes where I finally see the light, I am certain I won't feel this way anymore.

And that is, I've leapt on to another planet - where unspoken words no longer mean anything, memories are made sere and promises ended up being broken.

The Birth.

It feels brand new every single time.

I am not the brightest star around. Neither do I possess the ability to read deeper than what I possibly could.  One thing I do know for sure, is that the energy which flows between you and me is undeniable, immaculate and pure - that every single time we were brought to a low, we bounce back up higher than before. This is my faith, my belief and I hope you feel the same way.

Interests and similarities knit us - we're two threads put through a needle-hole, destined to weave stories. Your likes and loves are mine, my fancies and objects of adoration are yours. There was never a need to explain or convince for all there has been, was only sharing of thrills and excitement.

You're my soul mate not because I tell you everything. You are one because I don't have to tell you everything.

dEar_gOd, as fondly as I recalled, told me that anyone would have to bleed to cut him. And from the moment onwards, it was etched deeply inside.

A dog that barks doesn't bite. A smart dog that bites won't bother to bark to alert you. The most agonizing kind of pain is one which creeps upon you from behind and hits you hard when you least expect it.

Games are not hard to play at all when you're born to play. It's the abstinence which is hard.
Let us be true to our core.

Whichever I wore, I still return to the core eventually.
Which is me, yours truly.

façade; n 

on the day we met, which one did we wear? 

Alter Ego

to be very honest, i was a lil dejected when you said you felt shit. but a jiffy later, as i was having my mushroom quiche, i realised i couldn't be arsed. is there a reason why i'm getting to you this way? go figure.

and ain't sagi supposed to be optimistic? 

brutal truth here. after all, that's what we are - utterly honest people. 

born too late to say i love you baby.

"Never lie, steal, cheat, or drink. But if you must lie, lie in the arms of the one you love. If you must steal, steal away from bad company. If you must cheat, cheat death. And if you must drink, drink in the moments that take your breath away." - Hitch, 2005

Sulking, I went to the kitchen to fetch myself a glass of water. The day was warm and the ceiling fan was oscillating even when there was no one in the living room. The kitchen in this house has always been the dimmest room. The windows are blocked by opposing windows of the master bedroom and no direct sunlight could possibly infiltrate unless light starts to travel in awkward curved lines. I picked up the pitcher and began filling up this glass of mine which looks like an inverted triangle. I had bought it a couple of months ago because the shape’s interesting. Not saying it actually resembles a triangle. It’d be odd, no glass I’ve seen that actually has sharp corners. But enough about the glass.

I’ve been unhappy. I am unhappy with my current life. If the fortune teller who I visited three years ago wishes to claim credit for the prophecies he had of me, I will bestow him a trophy. I had gone to him that day because I was nervous about my career switch. The superstitious façade of mine had wanted to know if that was a wise choice.

Taking my right palm in both his hands on that Tuesday in 2010, he had carelessly (he didn’t actually spend a lot of time studying my palm lines) skimmed through whatever was there and said;

“You won’t be happy working. You are not cut out to work. You won’t be happy until you reach 40. You will meet someone in the future who you will love deeply but he is not going to reciprocate. During this time, it’s advisable you keep your friends around you. Otherwise you might do something foolish.”

The optimist in me argued with him as he muttered;

“That’s right. I will never be happy working for someone else because I think I’m better off running my own business. Or, I could marry a sultan and be a loving wife, full-time housewife and mother to my children. I have already met someone back then who I had loved deeply and he went away. He did reciprocate for a good two years. I have already done something foolish and it was him who sent me to the hospital. No, no friends were around because I had shut all of them out.”

On the last Sunday of July in 2013, I had recalled his words and let them fall in place. Having tried to brush my superstition aside, I questioned the credibility of these words. For everyone around me who understands me well enough, you ought to know by now that my interest in almost everything falters almost as instantly as it sparks. This so explains why I have been a chronic job-hopper because no one industry could keep me in for long. If I could be a surgeon tomorrow, I will, if not for my fear of cutting red meat.

I have a love and hate affair with the way my brain works. I love how I've garnered praises on my creativity and my ability to think out of the box. I love showing off how I can associate everything with anything and make a joke out of anything and everything. At the same time, I hate how my thoughts propagate the way that’s similar to that of an eruption of a volcano where it's seemingly hard for even myself to follow sometimes. First, the dormant side awakens. Processing information in a rather awkward slow motion, the brain digests whatever it could. And with an abrupt acceleration, it ejaculates lava and spits rocks out all in its glory. It’s uncontrollable, destructive and kills everything in its path. The villagers at the foot either die:

1. Being crushed by the falling rocks as they evacuate
2. Having their limbs burned to a state of nothingness by lava which is around 700 to 1250 degrees Celsius and eventually drowned in them
3. Having their windpipes blocked with volcanic ash and eventually suffocate
4. Being trampled over by the entire village when they trip over one of the rocks that has fallen

Now, you might have actually just witnessed how good I am at digressing and letting my imagination run wild. This bears an honest reference to what I had mentioned earlier: that my thoughts propagate not within control. Half an hour ago, I had made up my mind to write something on a serious note. I had poured myself some water in a glass that I had bought a couple of months which resembles an inverted triangle. I had settled down in front of my laptop and made up my mind to write something which is absolutely morbid, pessimistic and dark. Half an hour later now, you’re reading about a volcanic eruption and ways in which the villagers who reside nearby could possibly die.

I'm constantly hopping from one subject to another. Coherence is what I lack in my thoughts, writings and speeches. The biggest irony here is, I was once a top scorer for all my essays in school. 

Till then

I want to see you in this light where I'll be running from afar. And when I finally get to where you are, I'll throw my arms around you and tell you how much I've missed you.

Benjamin.

Fear

All of us have it. It's how we deal with it that counts and speaks strongly about yourself.

26 laps.

Having a smoke right after swimming 26 laps is like having your lungs say to you, "Here, I'm expanded. Go suck more nicotine now." 

What would you do if you were me?

Yesterday is here

March feels far.

A plain white canvas beautifully painted by my own hands. This is my mental landscape. I am the painter. I have been painting what I want to see.

What is it that you see?

Tired.

supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, adj

Have a nice day.

trepidation, n

When I was younger, I told everyone I aspired to be a reader of all good books that were ever written. When I am now, I worry I don't have a big enough bookshelf to contain them.

les feuille mortes

When time pulls us further,

and distance remains the sole connection.

By heart do remember,

that we're under the same sky.

C: "Omg, what happened to you?"

D: "Age."

C: "No, it's not an excuse. How do I look then?"

D: "Fucking hawt." 

/raised a brow

C: "Tell, how do I really look."

D: "Smashing."

C: "What's the agenda?"

D: "We've known each other for very long and we can be totally honest with each other right?" 

C: "Nine years. Yeah."

D: "I had a wet dream about you recently."

Chameleon.

The most prominent trait of mine - possibly - is how I switch from a state of mind to another just with a snap of a finger. I never like to dwell on unhappiness. At the end of the day, we have to ask ourselves what truly matters - the unhappiness or the moments of joy? Got the answer? Now etch it, remember it and focus.

I guess that explains why the tarot card guru said I'm an extremist and an amplified 8. There's never anything in between, there's never grey. It's only black or white. And I live loud.

Life is too short for bad emotions.

I want to travel, see the world, eat, explore new experiences, meet people, establish friendships, do something for the environment and appreciate arts and music. Basically, I just want to be myself. And myself, being a waif wannabe is hoping I have no shackles latched. It'd be a lie to say I don't wish I have a partner I can do these with. I need one who's as optimistic and love life as much as I do.

maybe one day, I'll stop waking up at 5am to cry.

The white rose.

I don't know where I go

But I know I drive alone

Superhero

Looking through my eyes

At the world, can't you see

Every time I see your face

There's a choice to be made

Walking hand in hand

Through the sands of the time

As I peer into the past

Foreign steps are terrorizing

Watching what is now

There's a fork in the path

Of the future of your life

Which road shall you choose?

Choices to be made

Past and present, it's not easy

But my love will let me die

Until your heart resurrects me

*

faith 

is believing that he will eventually come.