And all the tears you cried, that called my name.

I still remember.

Those endless walks. We used to chat and laugh and never cared where we’d end up. Bus and train rides listening to songs and doing puzzles. Movie dates and L4D dates. Annies. Webcam sessions. Paper bag date. You fell asleep and ended up with bird poo on your shoulder before the end of the night without either of us noticing it was on your shirt the whole time.

You not turning up the first time cause you were cooking. That still makes me smile.

Borrowed tees. Your V-neck obsession. Spilling sprite on my hair. And then your wardrobe malfunction in the pics. Me wanting something and then you’d surprise me by telling me you wanted to go to the loo. And then coming back with a paper bag 🙂 You getting my size wrong for the Birks and then complaining when I didn’t like the design. I know I’m an ingrate. Lol.

Dragging you to shops, supper at Yew Tee. Same polka dot shoes. Same boat shoes. Same calculator watches. The robot tattoo and how I came to see you to whine about the pain after. Doing my ears and how you used to give me a kiss every time after it was done. You wanted me to be brave and that was my reward. Sleepovers and sneaking out. Chicken chop suppers at Hougang. Chicken rice breakfasts. You forgetting which bus to take to my place every week. Or taking the wrong train home. Or falling asleep in the train and ending up at Jurong East. You drooling on my arm during the train ride. Pretty face, not when you’re asleep in public though.

My birthday surprise. Turning up at the door at midnight just to give me my present. And the card I already found in your bag before you gave it to me. Exploring Iluma and the time you dropped your wallet in the cinema. You sure got an earful from me. Your mum forgetting my name. Your dad nagging bout the last time I slept over.

Holding hands when we were eating. Sleeping. You made me smile every single second I was with you.

Cold windy nights sitting by the Singapore River. Talking bout our next tattoos. I was so fucking happy. Meeting day after day, pinching your ear every time I caught you checking chicks out. Study sessions at Esplanade and Cathay. Endless artsy movies. You dissing Twilight and loving Handsome Suit. Or The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.

Library dates. Coffee dates. You always taking a longer time in the toilet checking your reflection. You carried my bag everywhere, and you never complained. Stealing ciggies from my cigarette case. Teaching me how to do roll-ups. Wonder if I still remember how to. I wonder why you’re late and I end up finding you in the LAN shop, not realizing it was time to meet me. You sulking at Lucky Plaza the first time we ate there. And Cuppage suppers. Your teh chino which they never got right.

You’ve always known what I was feeling. You never left me on my own for a second if you could help it. We never argued. I never had to explain stuff to you, you just somehow got it. You read my heart when it wasn’t readable to anyone else.

Weren’t those awesome times? Thanks. For showing me how it’s done 🙂 I’m sorry if I gave you so many cards. I never knew how potent they could be. Your scrawly handwriting. My leftie. Always.

Hasta el final.


I am my own master, my own god.

Thank you for setting me free. It’s the best birthday gift ever.

And congrats on the baby. Looks like you’ll be the first one with the baby carriage.

So old, used but not yet broken.

Turning a year older in a few days. And I have a failed relationship, two of the crappiest months of my life, and an iPhone to show for it.

How do you otherwise deal with the fact that your dreams are better than reality? I lie awake at night, thinking about what used to be, and what could have been. I really believe things could have gotten better. And sadly, I still do.

I wonder why it feels like we’re living on different planets though he’s fifteen minutes away, geographically speaking. We had only good times to look back on, and needless to say, nothing else comes quite close.

It feels so final even though we’re on a timeout. I don’t even know why he’s acting like this, totally not the person I spent two years with. Was I naive to think we had a shot at a happily ever after? Am I being more naive still in believing that ending up together is the only possible outcome of this timeout?

It’s like he deliberately acts like a jerk now so he can’t live with himself, ultimately reducing our chances of rebuilding what we had to zilch. And of course I’m all too ready to be the doormat, falling at his feet even though he doesn’t want me to.

What happened to everything you stood for? What happened to us? You say it’s nothing to do with me, but as it turns out, I’m the one who feels like shit every day we’re apart, waiting for you to make it up to me.

To say you know you messed up, and instead of going against your principles, start to pick up the pieces with me. Tell me that you don’t know if we can make it, but at least promise that you’re gonna try. That you know we’re worth holding on to.

I knew you were the one even when things were perfect. It didn’t take this time apart for it to dawn upon me. So don’t give me that bull bout me wanting you even when you don’t know what you want. Don’t you get it? The only one who can fix this is you. Not the next guy who comes along cause no one else will mean anything to me.

Call me stupid or naive, I know what I want and what’s good for me. I’ve found it and I’ll be damned if I let it go.

It is not me to contemplate self-destruction, but going through it is another story altogether.

Cause I just don’t see any other way out of it. The hole you dug gets deeper and deeper everyday, and I just wait for night to come so my dreams lull me into thinking that things are finally how they’re supposed to be. Cause my forever fave boy is there when I close my eyes. Where I’m not last in his list of priorities and in his heart.

Happy fucking birthday to me.

Protected: He is the cut inside your mouth that never heals.

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The bright side of disaster.

Come back and shine just like it used to be
And then she whispered, “How can you do this to me?”

2010. Herro.

The first post of the year. Yeah, I know I’ve been slacking on the blog front. Uh, I’ve been too busy?

Earning my moolah and spending it ALL. On Forever 21, no less. I’ve got new socks, jeans, totes,  tops, rings, bracelets, the works. What’s a new year without a new wardrobe, eh? I finally splurged on basic tees! I think I bought twenty. The words ‘too much’ just don’t exist in my dictionary. And if you’re curious, I’m still with the same old ball and chain. Was reading through the older posts and it really seems like forever since I’ve been with the dude (in a good way, of course). Saturday nights spent together killing zombies, or watching late-night movies, or just sitting at Clarke Quay or Arab Street, just dreaming. And soon it’ll be two years. Just like that. Of course, he’s been getting on my nerves lately. Which boyfriend doesn’t? Just that this one is too cute to stay mad at.

I still want my treat though! I’m going to ask every week till you cave in and gimme my calories and cholesterol! Hah.

I need to go and get my netbook fixed. Urgh. I can’t live w/o the damn thing. 😦 And I have to go mailing tomorrow. And I need to go on dates and snap piccies. And hit the town and go shopping. It’s been weeks since I checked out what’s new at my favourite joints.

I’m trying to put aside money this year, with advice from friends and of my own volition. I wanna save up for that elusive rainy day. Now where’s that elusive piggy bank? If only I could envision a life without shopping. Or cigarettes. Or pens. Sigh.

I’ll be a quarter of a century old this year. And what do I have to show for it? A sodding 5 Year Plan. Which isn’t even concrete. And I want my bike licence. NOW.

The Imaginarium Of Doctor Parnassus was awesome! If only that really existed. And I love spending quality time with the bf, even though he was shagged from work. Well, for all the effort I put in for his birthday (which he thought was planned badly but who cares, I tried) I hope there’ll be something special for the big annie coming up. Screw Valentine’s Day. I’m learning to choose my battles.

I’m still crazy for owls. New year, old love.

Guess my new fave song.

I watched the X’mas special of CSI NY, and I thought this was a really cute song. And that the guy was too good to be a one-time actor. Like he could really sing.  And guess what? They’re a band. Train, for God’s sake.  I could poke my eyes. Really.

The bf is working at F21. Started earlier today 🙂 Awesome. Hopefully he gets free clothes. Or employee discounts, at the very least. Maybe spending time with other chicks will keep him occupied enough for me to start revising.

I ended up lugging cough syrup, bottles of water, a box of Strepsils AND my shopping from BPP and IMM to my lesson at Boon Lay just now. Now my shoulder blades feel so strained. I ended the lesson half an hour later than I should’ve, and I took the wrong bus home. I may or may not be losing my sanity. I can’t decide.

And I drank enough water today to fill an Olympic-sized pool, or so it feels. When I got home, in true Olympic spirit, a 10-metre dash to the loo. I don’t think everyone does that. Get breathless from running while sitting on the toilet seat. Or do they?

I bought stationery. And some storage boxes for all my lined notebooks. They just sit on my table forlornly, from day to day, wondering when they’ll be put to use. And all the while, I just keep buying more and more, in different shapes and sizes. I swear, they’re tempting me. They only appear when I have money, and leerily invite me to leaf through their pages, with tenderness and adoration. What kind of a twisted freak gets turned on by stationery? If I knew, I wouldn’t be the embarrassing owner of a thousand notebooks, letter pads and writing materials that qualify as nonsense to the untrained eye. And to think I just went stationery shopping yesterday. Five pens and three correction tapes. (It was justified because I was making the most of a 20%  discount okayyy. Also, Daddy’s treat for picking out assessment books for the brother who starts Secondary One next year. Plus, I got to keep the change).


I saw a polka dot backpack online! I see. I want. I buy. The three steps to instant gratification. Repeat until broke. Then bug bf to get a job and start pointing at shop displays again.

Speaking of which, say hello to Allison. I hope she’s gonna be my new fave bag. Polka dots line her body! Made from animal-unfriendly leather though, so she’s gonna be a tricky one to take on dates. So I take my bags out on dates. Anything wrong with that? Just the two of us, ogling stationery and other bags. Hee.

I’ve found an old love in my cardboard box full of bags, which I’m lugging around now. She’s awesome too, she never complains, has considerable mass which allows me to stuff every item of possession I tend to carry out with me, made of canvas which means I can stick buttons on her, and is timelessly cute. My first Deux Lux bag. And boy has she stood the test of time.