Numerals. 

Numbers that never go beyond 

A certain amount 

Unpredictable fluctuations 

But predictable depletions 

Never rising yet 

Always have enough to keep on falling 

I am starting to develop a fear of checking my account balance, just like how I instinctively avoid the mirror as well as weighing scale. 

Random thought: if a disaster happened, money wouldn’t matter because it will all burn away and no longer becomes a status, but a consequence. 

So why am I so hard up about it now? 

Dollars and cents shouldn’t define us. 

But it shapes my lifestyle. 

That’s fact. 

31st May. 

I have resumed smiling and trying to make things work. One has to move on, to live. Otherwise everything I work for stops but people and time just keep moving. 

Further and further away from me. 

But some days, I catch myself looking at him as if nothing has changed. As if the incident meant nothing. And I break a little more inside. 

What am I expecting though? 

For him to constantly treat me differently because he is sorry? For his face to look less happy and his mind less ready to crack jokes like he always does? For him to show more remorse? 

What is remorse? And how can it be shown when I have said I will try to forgive? 

This is merely my own bitterness and my own journey to go on. To move towards really being okay. Because for now, I am not. I am caught up with bitterness and I still cry when I think about the lying. I still ask so many whys and hows and what I should be doing or have not done. I am stuck in this perpetual darkness that I am not ready to get out of yet, and hoping to see him join me in this misery he inflicted upon me. 

I am seeking fairness when all matters have been unfair, and I placed myself here. Voluntarily. In a belief that this is worth it. 

Is it going to be? 

All this back and forth in my brain. Low nights filled with tears and irrational anger at myself for landing in this. 

Leaving is easy, and days when I feel weaker, I really wish I left. 

23 years.


(I sit in my little comfortable corner, right at the back of the car playing club music and am typing this while waiting to cross the causeway back home.) 

I cannot believe I am still alive at the age of 23. Somehow along the way, the little things started to add up and convince me that I might have gave up on life before this. Yet here I am, still alive in the very basic sense of existence. 

So maybe things aren’t all that bad. At least I hope that life will start looking up by now, and I can stop imploding. 

Stop killing myself slowly by sleeplessness and poor appetite and whatever I have done. 

(Isn’t it funny that people never take your word for it, and then they wonder why people cut, bleed and self-harm? It is for control. It is for proof. It is for you to believe what they have been saying all along.) 

Horrid things have been happening, and keeps adding to the weight my shoulders bear this year. If you are a close friend of mine, perhaps you already know all there is to it. There’s no need to air it here. 

So with this, as the Moon guides my way home and cheerful “I feel like a millionaire” lyrics start filling up this car, I shall will myself to write about the good things this year. 

1. I am still in school, and I finished two shows so far. The first one being such an honour to work with a gentle and nurturing teacher. The second one being an act of pure brazenness and I am proud that I did it. Everything I set out to do. 

2. Instead of leaving, I chose to stay and work on the relationship I am in. Leaving has always been so easy for me, with so many examples presented in my life, but I am happy so far that I held on. That I recognise how vulnerable love can be, and should be. And I put my money where my mouth is. 

3. A small one, but I have a page featured in this up-coming literary book that half the word is featured in anyway. But I’d like to think it is a victory for me to keep working towards my writing. 

4. I haven’t jumped off a building, even though it hovers at the back of my mind so casually. 

5. Writing letters to the people I love, and care about. That I kept to this tradition I have built for myself, and to force myself into the perspective of always appreciating no matter how much or little I have. 

6. My friends are all so far away geographically and sometimes schedule-wise. But always always always so near to my heart and being so loving all the time. As long as I reach out, their hands are always there to lend me strength. 

7. Slowly working on new things, starting up creative ideas and flowing with them. 

8. Cleared my things and kept only what’s important. Physical decluttering that I have wanted to do for so long, and finally managed to let go of certain sentimentalities that no longer mean anything. 

9. Trying my best to cope with life, even though I am doing a lousy job, but the trying part is kind of a good effort la.  

10. Not killing this blog. Yet. I kind of wanted to let this go, but now I really use this more for myself than just posting random writes I have. And it helps. And I found enjoyment in it, so I guess this is good. 

If any of you can think of any good things I should remember, please share with me too. Because nothing actually comes to me at the top of my head at the moment. 

But I think these ten are little red flags marking the various months. In some ways, I think I did quite well for someone that feels so much darkness. 

Thank you for all your patience, kindness, love and if you understood just a fragment of what I am going through, thank you. It means a lot to me. 

A lot of love to all of you. Sincerely. 

I will work towards happiness. I will try my best. 

Happy 23rd Birthday to me. xx

Appetite.

I haven’t exactly been eating well. That is a statement more than a judgment upon myself. 

Mostly due to the fact that I have very late nights, I would get out of bed only close to 11am. Then I would stare at the bottom of the upper bed for a bit before showering. Afterwards, I will immediately dive into doing work and get so engrossed until 7pm. Only then, will I feel a slight hunger. Even so, sometimes I just push it aside until I complete whatever I have on hand. Just don’t like leaving things halfway, in case I lose the momentum in me to keep going. 

This pattern has been going for a couple of weeks now. 

Am I stressed out, which is nothing strange from the usual, but a new side effect? Or am I still subconsciousless grieving? 

I don’t even know anymore. But the body always has a funny way of unknotting and expressing whatever is going on inside. 

If only my mind can be easily forthcoming. 

Observation June 8th. 

It is surprising how guilty I feel when I choose to stay in bed for an hour more, or two, on rare occasions. 

I stay in bed because I am tired, my dog just passed on and I just need a break. So I bury myself under my comforter, hug my safety blanket and lay my head on the only pillow I have. Stay still. Eyes shut and breath quiet. I slept at 5am the night before, or rather, this morning. My body feels heavy and my flesh weak. 

Maybe I can afford to just take this day off. Not do anything or engage in work. Just go through my emotions and rest. Let the mind quieten before all the errands I have later in the day. 

Always sounds like a good idea. Rest. 

I can always go back to the grind tomorrow. Taking a break happens so seldom that surely I deserve this? I earned it somehow. Must I even earn my right to rest? Can’t I just choose to rest? Shouldn’t my choice be enough, especially when I do balance it out with work on other days? 

But guilt seeps in and plagues me. It is funny, really. 

I choose to rest but I also choose to let this guilt eat away at my mind, and torment me. 

Lazy. Pig. Irresponsible. Failure. Passive. Not hardworking. A drifter. All achievements go down the drain. Think of your deadlines. Work isn’t that bad. Why can’t you do it? Move on. Who are you if you don’t work? What are you doing? Doing nothing and resting is a pleasure, a luxury. Hello? Get up get up get up!

And yes, I am not well off. My family only has enough or less. No one knows who I am, or even cares, especially in the bigger picture. 

So who am I if I don’t work? Work hard enough for people to know me and notice? Who am I without this?