Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeys.

The thing about living in a HDB flat is waking up to people whistling away in their shower. Horror #1 it probably came from the old man living two floors down, bad bad bad visual.

Sadly horror #2 is that I recognised the tune.

40 inches

Was what the measuring tape pointed to on Daddy's belly. As he stretched out the entire tape ensuring no discrepancies, I saw this look. It fell upon his face then into mine until our faces bore identical expressions of 'how did it get to the point of no-return?'

Indulge then detach. Repeat. A very simple safety net formula that I live on, subconsciously.

I have been thinking very hard on nothing. I think there are so many things I want to do that sometimes my lists are beginning to stare at me, not out of great awe and expectation for completion but in absolute disrespect like they are ready to climb over my overachieving head, underachieving self anytime.

How about we aim for 37 inches before Chinese New Year?

Its Monday again. Woke up at 12 and told myself to be kind.

0100 - And so begins the awakened nightmare as I made up my mind to order tehpeng
0300 - Falls onto my bed after shower
0400 - Tossed and turned
0500 - Tossed and turned
0530 - Frustrated, gave up. Peed. Turned on the lights. Read Fernand Baudin's How Typography Works (And Why It Is Important). Got bored. Continued page 112 of Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar. Stopped at page 113. Picked up Les Cashiers Purple instead. Much better. Three-quarters through the article, A Philosophical Friendship, caught signs of eyes drooping and mind shutting down. Latched upon them like a leech and dived straight into bed
0600 - Still. Awake. Extended arm towards the table, searched for ipod in darkness. Found it, watched Heima. Hurt my eyes. Listened to Heima.
0630 - (In order) Volcano Choir, Tuung, Bon Iver...
0700 - Turned off Ipod. One million thoughts. Switched to sleep at the end of the bed. Admired curtains.
0730 - Walked out of room. Saw mum awake, complained about my pathetic plight. Walked into brother's room to turn on router. Saw him sleeping soundly despite his right arm raised in midair, fist clenched with the absolution of a politician. Watched his state of comatose in envy, convinced myself that his arm will cramp when he wakes up later. Attempted to snigger. Felt pathetic. Fought the urge to scream into his ear.
0830 - Internet. Watered the plant. Hunger pangs. Headache. Self pride: 0%

Dear Lord,

This year has been mostly depressing but I thank you for blessing me with loved ones and the beauty of musicians who write endless wonder. I am nowhere near to becoming the greatest that I want to be but I'm becoming fuller.

I just need a kind favour from you. Help me walk tall. Help me walk tall, Jesus.

I think you may never read this, I don't know if I want you to. If you do, could you never bring it up?

I meant it when I said that you screw me up and I guess you did too when you said that I did the same to you. Such a constant struggle it is to remain inside the container of myself, a spacious surrounding that I've built over the years. Interacting with the world through a glass that keeps shattering and piecing together is so unnerving. I feel like i can explode from shaking and keeping my feet firm on the ground at the same time.

I daydream too much for my own good but even within the emptiness, an underlying intensity boils deep within. It comes from the fear of losing everything that I may never have had in the first place.

The unbelievably depressing moments erases the distance that I create from you and the happiness takes me away. Strange it is that i am only honest when i say that i am dishonest.

Too much complexity that we can't fathom yet we hold on to a faint picture. I am so careless for the things of utmost value to me but put my care into shit that ain't worth a second of my time.

There is no point to this post but thank you for having been patient with me. I don't know if i can get better.

Thought we were going
To go up the field away
Join all the other living souls
But you never came

Robbed of your fortune
They gave disappointment to life
You're probably poisoning your body
I hope you're alright

In a moment of fear
You dig in your heels
The pills won't help you now
Once you're crying


The only song on my playlist and mood.

Yesterday I wore my favourite muji dress, shoes, bag, gosh i'm disgusting cos come to think of it, even my wallet is from muji. Shook Kenya Hara's hand and handled him my name card, both are gestures I still cannot fully register.

I cannot wait to go on a long vacation, to get away. There is just too much to think about but when I do get away, i'm leaving these thoughts behind.

Times like this you can think of nothing but to get fucked, stoned and die young.

Fuck.

Im lying on my bed just wondering. What if I allowed myself to feel all the pain in the world just for a minute? Would I be aware of the pain a mother feels if her child was stolen from right before her or that of a man injured after a car accident, if he knew he had killed someone? How about the ants we have crushed or the trees we have burned? Because you know they are not all the same.

I must have eaten something, my fart smells horrible.

I think, no i shouldn't.

Its not that I stopped wanting to write. I've been trying to get here a few times but my internet's been acting strange I gave up. In fact i'd be surprised if I manage to eventually publish this.

I am sitting half naked in my room typing and listening to Boy 1904. The assumption that this entry isn't going to publish has somewhat loosened my thoughts. Suddenly I feel more open than ever but i'm not sure what i'm gonna write about anyway.

Today I missed all my buses. One of those days. I used to curse. Now I just roll my eyes, halfway. I did the same when a group of self-satisfied yuppies dressed in strawberry milk pink meandered into the train.

I do miss floating to a repetitive tune when finally the voice in our heads disappear and we listen.

Whats important?

how fucked up is it that our lives are just filled with so much junk?