Monday, January 22, 2018


I saw a clip of Trump mouthing off on what he thinks are the visa lottery and chain immigration. On the one hand, I am glad I probably don’t hail from a country that he would deem a “shithole”, on the other, I really do want to be in the US so there are certain ideas I probably shouldn’t talk about.

Today my brain is trying to wrap itself around how conservatives are pissy about libs and safe spaces but their entire idea of building walls and keeping out people from non-similar backgrounds is inherently constructing what they think is the safest space for themselves. Death Eaters.

Imagine if I went around calling all white people Death Eaters.


Passive dependency has its genesis in lack of love. The inner feeling of emptiness from which passive dependent people suffer is the direct result of their parents' failure to fulfill their needs for affection, attention and care during their childhood. It was mentioned in the first section that children who are loved and cared for with relative consistency throughout childhood enter adulthood with a deepseated feeling that they are lovable and valuable and therefore will be loved and cared for as long as they remain true to themselves. Children growing up in an atmosphere in which love and care are lacking or given with gross inconsistency enter adulthood with no such sense of inner security. Rather, they have an inner sense of insecurity, a feeling of 'I don't have enough' and a sense that the world is unpredictable and ungiving, as well as a sense of themselves as being questionably lovable and valuable. It is no wonder, then, that they feel the need to scramble for love, care and attention wherever they can find it, and once having found it, cling to it with a desperation that leads them to unloving, manipulative, Machiavellian behaviour that destroys the very relationships they seek to preserve. As also indicated in the previous section, love and discipline go hand in hand, so that unloving, uncaring parents are people lacking in discipline, and when they fail to provide their children with a sense of being loved, they also fail to provide them with the capacity for self-discipline. Thus the excessive dependency of the passive dependent individuals is only the principal manifestation of their personality disorder. Passive dependent people lack self-discipline. They are unwilling or unable to delay gratification of their hunger for attention. In their desperation to form and preserve attachments they throw honesty to the winds. They cling to outworn relationships when they should give them up. Most important, they lack a sense of responsibility for themselves. They passively look to others, frequently even their own children, as the source of their happiness and fulfilment, and therefore when they are not happy or fulfilled they basically feel that others are responsible. Consequently they are endlessly angry, because they endlessly feel let down by others who can never in reality fulfill all their needs or 'make' them happy. I have a colleague who often tells people, 'Look, allowing yourself to be dependent on another person is the worst possible thing you can do to yourself. You would be better off being dependent on heroin. As long as you have a supply of it, heroin will never let you down; if it's there, it will always make you happy. But if you expect another person to make you happy, you'll be endlessly disappointed.' As a matter of fact, it is no accident that the most common disturbance that passive dependent people manifest beyond their relationships to others is dependency on drugs and alcohol. Theirs is the 'addictive personality'. They are addicted to people, sucking on them and gobbling them up, and when people are not available to be sucked and gobbled, they often turn to the bottle or the needle or the pill as a people-substitute. In summary, dependency may appear to be love because it is a force that causes people to fiercely attach themselves to one another. But in actuality it is not love; it is a form of antilove. It has its genesis in a parental failure to love and it perpetuates the failure. It seeks to receive rather than to give. It nourishes infantilism rather than growth. It works to trap and constrict rather than to liberate. Ultimately it destroys rather than builds relationships, and it destroys rather than builds people.
The Road Less Travelled may turn out to be the most important book I have ever read and will ever read and become a favourite. The previous chunk of text seems a little like me in a nutshell, but hey, acceptance is the first step to recovery, right? Also, as long as I don't perpetuate the pattern with kids, I will have done one better.

Sunday, January 21, 2018


My youngest sister (at least the one in my household, it takes too long to explain all my siblings) is watching an Elders React video on YouTube, and they’re watching the meme of Ugandan Knuckles. One of the elderly men watched a scene that had the closed captions [mass clucking] and he did the clucking sound and he said “I could have helped with this one” and I’m fecking ded, old people can be so precocious. I need some new music, my Spotify is made up of basically Selena Gomez, Lorde, Taylor Swift, the Hamilton soundtrack and mixtape, the La La Land OST and perhaps, Fall Out Boy circa my teenage years. I feel like I should really explore old songs, the other day my colleague played something by Tina Turner and she was positively affronted when I didn’t know what it was.


do you have to let it linger?


I am on the way to work for a meeting afterwhich I’m back home for my off day. Yesterday while I was walking home from work, at midnight, there was a guy walking at my pace for a while, and in my head, I already thought “geez, not again” because I had been followed home and flashed by some pervert sometime before. I was mustering all my energy to face whatever it was, and turned, and saw it was freaking Perfiq. That’s not his real name but was once upon a time his Instagram handle, which was a perfect pun on his name, because my sister and I thought he was perfect. We used to work with him at the same café, and he always reminded me of Khalis, because Perfiq is also a drummer. He and his girlfriend post drum covers together now, and they’re like couple goals. Apparently Perfiq has been our neighbour all this while and we never knew, and this is amazing news, because he used to be our only eyecandy while we worked together. Man oh man, time flies. Speaking of Khalis, remember the times when he taught me to drum and we would never get anywhere because I would be nervous because I had the longest-standing biggest crush on him? Geez. He never even touched me. He’d seen me getting over my previous boyfriend and it took way too long so he knew if we ever did anything, I would be just as hung up over him so he didn’t. I haven’t seen Khalis since what, August? The first time I’d seen him since the miscarriage and we talked about it as if he was an interviewer, he was still floored. My life is wild. I had a crush on Khalis for what, six years? I only stopped, and I remember this extremely vividly because I said it to a best friend, because he’d put on a little weight, and I’m inherently attracted to very thin men. To be specific, the same size as I am. Any thinner and I’m not attracted to them, any bigger and I think they have more physical power than I do. So basically that’s a delicate balance for a man to navigate. I am a completely superficial disgusting specimen of a person, truly. But you know, I’m human and I don’t think my flaws are any worse than the best of them. Nobody said we have to be saints.

Saturday, January 20, 2018


This is gonna be a bit of a ramble, because I'm tired. Today has been a bit of a day, the way the past nineteen days have all been "a bit of a day" for some reason. Prepare yourself to follow this rollercoaster of a weird post.

So I found out that I'd dropped my wallet somewhere last night, and it was returned to the shoe cabinet outside our apartment, where my grandma discovered it this morning.

I was so glad it was returned and even gladder to have found that my cards and cash were all intact. I mean, given that it had been returned via cabinet, I wouldn't have known the identity of the person who'd returned it, and so if some money was missing, I would have accepted it. But nope, my forty dollars of bills were still there, and I didn't need to cancel my cards.

(P.S. the person found my address on the reverse of my identity card, for those of you who are not from Singapore / P.P.S. hello hi all of you I miss all of you, I promise to see all your faces soon)

Tbh, I was most worried about the ten-dollar note that I'd gotten and kept for its serial number. IT IS MY LUCKY CHARM and the fact that my wallet was returned to me is complete and legit proof that 2018 is my year, right.

In a completely different tangent, my sister Melyssa and I were not speaking to each other for a couple of months, which sucked. She has her moods when she's depressed, and I had my own moods, and this time it clashed so we just never talked.

Recently, we started talking again and it's always a wonder that we ever stop talking, because she is my best friend, and we understand each other the way only sisters understand each other. Also: we have a joke that when we don't talk to each other, neither of us has friends, because we're each other's only friends.

She sent me a comic strip about the meaninglessness of life that only she and I, of all our family members, would relate to.

So, back to the wallet story, right. I was at work, and I dunno, probably admiring my own Adventure Time boots or something, when a guy and a girl walk up, and I was gonna start talking to them the way Lush staff do, right.

The guy then looks at me, and asks, "are you my neighbour?" and I look at him, and say "I think so" because he definitely looked familiar, although if you asked me to pick him out of a police line-up of similar-looking men, I wouldn't be able to.

He asks, "do you have a pink Kate Spade wallet?" and I said, "yes I do, oh my god, are you..." and he says "yeah, I found it last night" and this time, he and his friend start giving each other looks. She says, "we were just talking about you!" to me, because apparently, my neighbour had found yet another wallet at the mall, and so he was telling her that he'd found my wallet and returned it last night.

There was an awkward pause of about a gazillion years, in which I wondered "did he Google my name and find out where I work and made all this up because this place is an hour and a half away from our block and I have never seen him outside of our block of apartments and what are the odds that he is here at my workplace the day after he returned my wallet, the odds are very very very stacked against that"

in which time I would guess he was also thinking "I hope she doesn't think I'm stalking her, how the hell am I at her workplace, an hour and a half away from our block of residence, the day after I returned her wallet"

and to end that weird pause, I gave him and his friend Random Act of Kindness items (just items from the inventory that we give to people we like and want to make the days of), and they left and that was a strange, straaaaaaange adventure to my day. I feel like the Adventure Time boots are giving me actual adventures!!!!!!!!!!

In any case, my bathroom cabinet is now a mini Lush store.

I am a little sad that I have accumulated so many bath bombs and bubble bars and do not have a bathtub to use them. Bubble baths are some of my favourite things in life, because I am bourgie af. But tbh I really love baths and Lush and lemme tell you why.

When I first realised that every month my period was giving me little panic attacks, because there was blood and blood at one point meant miscarriage, and I was starting to see my therapist, I also started working at Lush, and every day, despite being overwhelmed by life and needing to get out of bed, once I was at work and smelling all the different scents, I felt so... zen.

I love the smells at work, it means more than just essential oils, they mean a family that accept me no matter what I believe, or what I do with my body, etc etc. It means this company that buys ethically so that people in villages in Ghana have a sustainable income, it means a company that has not ventured into the China market (a very sizeable one, mind you) because China law requires that cosmetics companies test their products on animals, and Lush does not. It means this company that has lovely copy on its packaging, copy that one day I hope to write.

In any case, you know, the only thing I want when I'm an adult living by myself, is a bathtub in my apartment, no matter how small my apartment may be. The fact that I have a bathtub to relieve my stresses at the end of perhaps of every week, will be all I need to tell myself, this was all I wanted, and this means I have made it.

It has been a bit of a week. I think, I am pretty sure Adam and I are creeping on each other, perhaps because we are both middle school kids (I say, as if I know what middle school is) (I don't). Ah well, perhaps if I reach old age one day, all these middle-school-crushes will amuse me. I am twenty-seven, but acting seventeen. Not too bad, I guess. Life has no meaning, anyway, so.

oh no

Thursday, January 18, 2018


Ex??? Cuse???? Me!!!!!!

I feel attacked!!!!!!! I need to check whether I have low testosterone because I clearly don’t have any of the high testosterone symptoms! Sometimes I wonder if I could be asexual but then I look at photos of men I love and I think — nope, definitely want to jump their bones. At this point I specifically mean Adam in a suit and I’m not worried about saying it bc let’s face it, we all know when he looks at my photos he wants the same thing, so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Oh my jesus christ how is this the first time I’m hearing of this testosterone thing tho. Also typing the word testosterone makes me wanna have Toblerone, and I don’t even really like Toblerone. 

Today, I found out I have lost weight, again. I don’t even know why, I’ve been eating! I’m 50kg or 110pounds. I’m trying to get used to imperial measurements, because the US is so goddamn irrelevant but I need to make sure I fit in and understand what the hell is going on. I’m 5’6. Hell yeah, that sounds way cooler than 168cm. #sarahcasm


So I was trying to perhaps employ a little logic, and maybe figure out why I’m feeling this way about A, still. I mean, I rambled on and on about J, but at the base of it, I just wanted a sincere apology and acknowledgment of the crap I’d gone through since then. I never received it, but just realising that was what I wanted was cathartic towards me moving on, because I realised I could bring myself to the point of feeling whatever I would feel if I received it, and whether he did so or not was more reflective of him and should not affect how I feel. I don’t think I really actually want anything from A, though, I feel like the feelings are really just still there, especially because it was mutual, and perhaps I even have more words and actual conversations with A to draw from as memories. Also, the people I work with are still the very same who saw me talking to him, one of them saw me crying when A and I were being anxious, she then said what we were doing reminded her of Pewdypie, and then I learned Pewdypie isn’t even the greatest of human beings, but that’s a different story. At the base of this, he and I talked very easily and he made me laugh and I liked him an awful lot, and I guess I just want that back. The fact that I’m referring to people as A and J though, seems very Gossip Girl or Pretty Little Liars. My life is almost literally a TV show, with a viewership to boot.

Wednesday, January 17, 2018


Here are a few photos taken using portrait mode, courtesy of Atiqah's new iPhoneX.

I remember Adam saying something about the iPhoneX advertisement. Also, today while navigating Botanic Gardens, I kept seeing AED on the maps, because of course he has the most ubiquitous initials. Geez.

I have more photos on Instagram, but I don't have much to say, not today. It is completely unfair that memories of him keep infiltrating my mind (I say, as I willingly look at his social media everyday). What am I doing with my life? Who knows?

My best friends are great and today we talked about H&M's recent SNAFU with the black kid model wearing that inane-in-any-context slogan jumper, and where the lines are drawn in racism, etc etc. I love them. Very much.


Today I was doing a trash run with one of my colleagues, Cheryl, and the cargo lift was stuck and the light turned off for a bit, making us panic. Neither of us had our phone with us. We didn’t know whether we were stuck on one floor, or in between. Cheryl said perhaps we were in a film in which we would emerge with a special bond forever because we’d gone through something together. She said perhaps when we left the lift there would be a zombie apocalypse on the outside and I said I would prefer that and find it way more fun than if we were in like the Saw franchise. We were basically calming each other down by freaking each other out. I felt a little claustrophobic after the lights had gone out, and only told Cheryl once we’d left the lift, that I’d been super scared that the lift wires would break and we would hurtle down to the ground floor. That didn’t happen. We were rescued in ten minutes by the technician, and proceeded with the trash run. None of our other colleagues even really missed our presence. Last week, my cat fell from the sixth storey and today I got stuck in a lift for the first (and hopefully only) time in my life. I don’t know what this means, do I have to take the stairs always? Do I have to live on the ground floor? Dunno. I do know, apart from the physical tiredness of being on the floor, I’m starting to properly love my colleagues. And I love the company I work for. I mean, honestly, one day if you asked me to wax lyrical about Lush, I would probably bore the hell out of you. I can’t wait till we do a campaign. Today another of my colleagues talked at length about her trip to New York and I missed the hell out of Adam, and I let it be, because there was no way I was going to avoid that.

I was limping a little bit at home, I dunno why, maybe it’s too cold and it really is making my ankle hurt or maybe it’s because I’ve been working too many days in a row. My grandma asked “apasal kakinya?” (What’s wrong with your leg?) and I just brushed it off. I know I don’t have it really bad, I mean I know there are girls who can’t even go to school, or they have to walk hours to get to school, and all things considered, I know what hurts and I’m able to try and deal with it, I take pills for my bones and joint health, and at least I understand shit that goes on, but some days, some days are just more tiring than others. I thought it was funny that I limped to the door then saw Mochi looking at me. If I limp a little and share that with her, maybe she’ll take faster to heal, which I would love, because she barely understands what is going on. I wish I could have that superpower, to take away someone’s pain. There is too much pain in the world and everyone is so tired. Maybe that’s another novel to be written.

tell me it's okay (to be happy now)
tell me it's okay (because I'm happy now)

I just wanted to say it is okay to be happy, and I mean it, to all of you, especially to you, the person whose name I've said more than anything else in the past two years. I'm sorry it got so bad, I don't resent nor begrudge any of you the happiness everybody is striving for. It doesn't matter which corner of the US you're from, or wherever in Singapore. I'm okay, and I'm sorry for ever holding anything against you. I wish for all of you to be happy, truly. And I know you wish this for me too. I know this. 

Tuesday, January 16, 2018


I've seen Singaporeans expressing their dismay at other Singaporeans for 'overreacting' to our current climatic conditions. I've seen foreigners calling Singaporeans overly 'dramatic', because 21 degrees is standard summer temperature in many temperate countries. This, in my opinion, is unwarranted criticism.
I'm in my house, with my windows open, and my toes feel cold. There has to be a reason for it.
There are some elements of our current climatic condition that we haven't accounted for. These are:
  • Wind chill
  • Cloud cover
  • Precipitation
Using this wind chill calculator, inputting a temperature of 22 degrees C and an average wind speed of 25km/h (tomorrow's forecast) gives us a wind chill index of 18 degrees C. That means that even if the mercury reading is 22, the 'real feel' index is 18 degrees C. That's four degrees cooler than 22 degrees. Inputting a temperature of 22 degrees C and a wind speed of 35km/h (tomorrow's maximum wind speed forecast) makes the 'real feel' index dip to 17 degrees C. That's five degrees cooler than the temperature on display.
Make no mistake: That IS cold, for Singapore standards. Let's say if we were in the middle of a Sumatran squall and the wind speeds averaged 70km/h, the 'real feel' index would be 15 degrees C. For context, the highest recorded wind speed in Singapore was 144.4km/h, recorded in 1984, and an average yearly Sumatran squall gives us wind speeds of up to 80km/h.
But there's more. In temperate climates, a summer temperature of 21 degrees is often marked by balmy and sunny weather. The sun counteracts the effect of wind chill, if any, but we've had nothing but an overcast sky and UV indices of 0 over the last week. No sun, no sources of warmth. This, combined with the wet weather and our year-round humidity, just serves as a snowball effect of sorts. If our 'real feel' index is 18, this can really make it feel like 16, or even colder. Remember: "Cold air with high relative humidity "feels" colder than dry air of the same temperature, because high humidity in cold weather increases the conduction of heat from the body."
Why hasn't anyone pointed this out, you may ask? Well, we just never thought we'd be talking about wind chill in this part of the world. But here we are.
There's another element to this too: Our preparedness. In countries with temperate climes, people are experts at layering in accordance with the weather, but we have a standard lepak outfit that we seldom deviate from. Berms, a shirt/singlet, and flip flops. Most of us haven't deviated from this standard form of attire, so of course we'd feel cold. It feels like it's 18 degrees, after all.
Also, our houses and flats were built to withstand Singapore's heat and humidity. Not chilly weather. Even if there's a chill in temperate countries during summertime, their houses are fitted with double glazed (insulated windows) for winter anyway and can keep it out. We're comparatively more exposed to this kind of weather.
Just putting that out there.

Me: I knew it! I knew it! First of all, I’m not being dramatic, my sisters have attested that I have the coldest room in the apartment, even without the fan on. I know why. Mel’s/my grandma’s room is insulated between mine and the building corridor, my younger sisters’ room is between my parents’ and the building corridor, and my parents’ bedroom is sheltered by their bathroom which is adjacent to their bed. My room is completely exposed to the beating rain and cold winds every night, and one day I will be frozen and not wake up for work and all you shithead guys are going to regret it! Every one of you! For not saying sorry, for not believing in me, for not talking to me to make me laugh. Y’all all shitheads. Goddamn motherfuckers, I hate all of you. The cold is bringing out the bitterness in me. *listens to Taylor Swift* ok I’m better now.

Also: inb4 the inane comments about how I’m not trying to keep warm, I’ll have you all know I’m wearing my furry full-length koala onesie that covers me from head to toe, I’m burritoed in my blanket and the fan is not on. So there.

Monday, January 15, 2018


You know how they say the more you do something, the easier it becomes. Perhaps there is a little truth in that. In one of the NPR-TED episodes I listened to, a man spoke about how he was so deathly afraid of rejection that he never took the steps to fulfill a childhood dream he’d had. So he went on a journey of rejection, he went 100 days making requests of strangers, things he somewhat knew he would be rejected for, like an unreasonable loan amount, and so on. Day after day, he got a little bit used to it and he also got used to the fact that despite the rejection, he was still living and breathing and he was at the base of it all, actually okay. In fact, not all of his requests were rejected, apparently a few people said yes against his expectations. I did not want to write this, because I have done this so many times before, perhaps too many times before, and it has never amounted to much. But then I think to myself, if I have done it for so many men who only wanted my body without even knowing my full name, why should I not do it for you? Sometimes I want to tell you about Mochi, because you’ve seen her several times and I know you must have some form of attachment to her, if not to me. The other day we mentioned the age discrepancy between my mum and stepdad (she is 7 years older and is effectively a cougar) and my younger half-sisters, said “like you and Adam” and I looked at them, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, asking how they knew. Them: “we saw him on your Instagram, you said he was 26 and that’s younger than you” so I learn that my little tiny sisters, who were babies when I was 13, perhaps know more about me than I give them credit for. Sometimes I want to read your writing, and then I tell myself not to, and then I wonder why. I like your writing, your dark, very black humour, things that make me wonder how dark your thoughts must be, which then makes me wonder why you wouldn’t watch something like Black Mirror. I think about the night I get drunk in front of my colleagues, and tell you I like you so much I cannot quite place any other way to express besides that I love you, and you say it back, with no qualms. I rue the days we cried for and about each other, geez, that was rough. It makes me smile now, somehow, thinking, wow somebody felt as much as I did, how is that even possible. I open my iMovie to edit a video then realise the one you had sent me when you were opening my box is still there, and it makes me feel a lot of things I cannot separate from each other. When the opening riffs or drum notes of any song in the playlist you’d made for me plays on my Spotify, I either skip the song or listen to it endlessly on repeat, wondering whether even the artist has ever felt the way I feel for you. I miss you and your jokes that range from A+++++++++++ to complete-rubbish-Adam-why-do-you-even-try. I miss us and the incessant “the old Taylor/Adam/Sarah can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Oh, ‘cos she’s dead!” Every time my colleagues play Carly Rae Jepsen or Ariana Grande, I wonder what you feel about the particular song. I don’t know why I’m writing this, I truly never do, but if it doesn’t kill me, why the fuck not, right? I hope you’re okay. That’s all.

Sunday, January 14, 2018


i. the weather is cold enough so that the fan doesn’t have to be switched on for me to sleep soundly through the night
ii. the water heater works well such that I can have a steaming hot shower even in Singapore’s version of sweater weather
iii. Mochi surviving a fall and still being herself, meowing incessantly and greedily to be fed more shrimp and shredded beef from my bowl of noodles
iv. one of my best friends being a doctor and helping me out of one of my worst periods of depression that one night last year
v. one of my friends who isn’t even a doctor, who wouldn’t go drinking with me, because I was on anti-anxiety medication, and alcohol is a depressant, and they don’t mix well together
vi. some of my best friends who will not give up on me and looking after me, no matter what kind of trouble I get myself into
vii. I have learned to avoid trouble of my own accord
viii. I am on talking terms with all my family members
ix. feeling hungry more often now that it’s always cold, so I get to eat more, but having a high enough metabolism so that I don’t feel the need to work it off, not that I would mind a little more weight
x. Netflix, especially the shows that are downloadable to my phone so I can watch on-the-go
xi. New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift. I have eight songs from reputation downloaded to my Spotify. I know she has trash politics, and I shouldn’t be listening to her, but maybe I am a trash person or maybe I just like her songs even if they’re trashy, and I have made my peace with it
xii. I’m blogging and have been consistently blogging on my phone, what a time to be alive
xiii. having a ten-dollar bill (I would call it a Hamilton but it’s a Singaporean note) that has a string of my favourite numbers consecutively as its serial number, that I got a few days ago, which is irrefutable proof 😛 that this year will be a good year, for me
xiv. the backpack that I got for school, matches my sneakers perfectly, hehehe, and that my laptop fits into the bag (you can’t ever be sure when you order shit online, until it arrives)
xv. the stash of bath items that I got from work to have bubble baths anytime I get the chance to use a bathtub this year
xvi. ice-cream: I mean, srsly, I think I would not trust anyone who doesn’t like ice-cream
xvii. my hair is growing really well and healthily and I love it, my hair always does seem to be a representation of my person

Saturday, January 13, 2018



i. Today there were hordes of whypipo in the store for some reason, four of the girls had locs and loads of them were wearing loose elephant-print pants. Yknow, like the kind you get in Thailand. White people who aren’t self-aware are the actual worst. 

ii. #Oprah2020

iii. I started watching The End of the F***ing World (it’s stylised that way, I don’t censor my fucks in front of anyone because the way I see it — it’s better for kids to hear you say fuck than for you to be polite while communicating racist and bigoted values, so fuck off) and I quite like it. Two more episodes to go, it’s a little reminiscent of Warm Bodies so far.

Friday, January 12, 2018


I like my manager a lot. Today, I was singing along to the PA system and she asked “Sarah can you sing?” I said I couldn’t and then she said “I can, ‘cos I’m Filipino so it’s a given. Filipinos can sing.” I knew she was kidding ‘cos she’d told me previously that she was the only Filipino who doesn’t have the ability to sing and also ‘cos I’ve actually heard her singing. It is like mine. Then she asked me to reaffirm again tonight, “Sarah, can I sing?” So I stared at her and said “yes” to which she said “good, ‘cos you’re still under probation.” HAHAHAHAHA I love her so much.

Thursday, January 11, 2018


So today, I went to the market with my grandma and she started sniffling 'cos of Mochi's health expenses, etc. My grandma is a qtpie but she is so emotional and that's why I turned out this way, probably.

When we got home, Mel and I got into a bit of a hooha because she is a dingus but I hope we never forget what happened today because she is a dingus. When will they ever learn???

Mochi refuses to wear her cone and keeps making the most pitiful mews when you put it on, or she just knocks herself into every single surface trying to get it off, so it's either she dies from injuring herself further or from infecting her wounds by licking them/biting off her bandage. No big deal, Moch Moch. No big deal. o<-<

It's been really rainy so I took it as a sign to wear my hoodie dress and Marceline boots. They have furry tongues, because Marceline is a vampire queen and vampires turn into bats and bats are furry and you get it.

I had a brilliant dinner with Reen, Tim and Yuriko. I laughed so hard at the things they said, especially "no-leg-day-kinda-guy" oh geez. Also Yuriko and Tim were telling us all the Japanese things Japanese people say and do, and we contemplated the things that would be said to me if I went to teach English in Japan. I like Yuriko a lot, I don't remember really talking much to her before they got married, but now I realise she's really funny too. I love seeing them as a couple, geez what a weird feeling.

For dessert, we had mochi donut with soft-serve ice-cream, and mochi donut means donut made of glutinous flour, and it was amazing, and I definitely want to have it again, because the soft-serve is cookie butter flavour, which is like Speculoos, or like those Lotus biscuits served with coffee, like caramelly, and like oh my god this was good.

Reen passed me clothes, as she is wont to do. She also passed me lingerie in a bright pink colour that I LOVE, a colour that I somehow don't have yet????? The last time she got me lingerie, it was yellow. Reen is the best.

I love clothes but there are some clothes I love more than others. For example, I love boots, and dresses with pockets, but hooded dresses (the ultimate rarity) are the best, because then you don't ever have to bring around an umbrella or cap???? Which is like??? A lifesaver????

And then above all is lingerie. I love lingerie, it's hilarious. My best friends got me lingerie for my 25th birthday and I think it's because they know I'm most comfortable with my own body, so they'd rather get it for me and know that I'll wear it instead of buying it for themselves and never wear them.

I was taking the train home with Yuriko and Tim, and I saw Pamela's boyfriend Peh, and said hi to him. He asked about Mochi, I guess because Pamela had told him. I also love seeing Peh and Pamela together YAS real-life couple friend ships are the best ships to ship.

Tim, Yuriko and I alighted the train together, then Tim said "is that Pamela from SilkAir's boyfriend?" and I said "wait how do you know Pamela from SilkAir??" and then he asked me to guess, and eventually I recalled that he, Reen and Pamela had met at my 25th birthday picnic, and that was nice, because I guess seeing Peh is sort of secondhand seeing another best friend of mine in a day.

This year I turn 28 and it is going to be a good year. I can feel it in my bones. Actually, what I feel in my bones is ache because my joints get weird when it rains. However, I do feel it in my heart. I'm gonna have a 28th birthday dinner, and it might be the last time I do a gathering with my favourite people in Singapore in a long time. 

If all I receive for my 28th are Victoria's Secret lingerie sets, I think it would be a success. My size is UK 8, #justsaying HAHAHAHAH okbye I love y'all I'm super happy.

Wednesday, January 10, 2018


I just got a call from the vet saying that Mochi is looking bright as a button and trying to use her broken leg already. She fell from six storeys and survived with one broken leg. Cats are amazing creatures.

I’m still lowkey pissed that she stupidly lost her balance and fell from the window ledge, if she did. That’s ruling out if she actually jumped at a bird or whatever stimulus.

We’re gonna mesh our windows, and Mochi’s leg will be in a cast for four to six weeks. Poor girl. We all feel bad for rebuking her whenever she was too playful before this. Well anyway to keep her from being bored we might have little cat playdates for her soon. I hope it goes well.

She hasn’t really had much interaction with other cats. But when our part-time cat, the stray from the void deck, comes up for food, Mochi seems more curious than anything. The stray doesn’t like Mochi though, perhaps because we give her shelter and not him. I’m sorry bro, y’all had different lots in life and the social mobility in cats has a different hierarchy than for humans.

Tuesday, January 09, 2018


always somebody you're willing to fight
to be right

your lies are bullets
your mouth's a gun
no war in anger was ever won

put out the fire before igniting
next time you're fighting
kill em with kindness

i. I think you misread some of the things I've written recently. I haven't directed anything towards you, whether conscious or unconsciously, since we stopped properly talking to each other. You used to be one of my best friends, and I one of yours, but in the past year, I realised that at some core parts of ourselves, we would not accept each other for some of our beliefs, the more I changed. You seemed to not accept me for pushing away and rejecting some of the things that are integral to your existence, especially given the fact that I was also born into the same circumstance, and I think trying to keep up our friendship was exhausting to the both of us. I am deeply grateful for the many years we had some of the best times together, and the many times we had each other's backs, but I think we both agree this friendship is better as a fond memory, and I wish you all the best in your future.

ii. There are parts of you that I will always love, like the fact that you're there when shit hits the fan. You say the words that will comfort me when I really need to hear them, we tease each other the way we both appreciate it, we are both conceited and enjoy our own selves far too similarly. I like you, but it's tough to wait for glimpses of you out of the weird shell you built for yourself. We both have so many trust issues, you don't inherently trust me and I don't inherently trust you, as long as I live in the light and you, the shadows. You took far too long to say you liked me, and even then, we keep twisting each other's words because I think as you said, we're too scared of what could actually be. I really am tired of us getting under each other's skin, and if we cannot keep to the boundaries we set for ourselves and are trying to push our own agenda, neither of us is going to ever be happy with what we are.

iii. I am sorry for what happened to you and what she did. From the time we spent together, I can tell you are a kind man, and you honestly don't deserve to be lied to, not that anyone does. Thank you for the times we watched and listened to and consumed media together, for the brilliant first date, for cooking our Christmas Eve meal together, for some semblance of something real I hadn't had for such a long while. We met each other at perhaps an inopportune timing, and we are both still raw and hurt from the massive piles of manipulation that have been heaped upon us. I hope you heal as smoothly and completely before you expect to, and because of you, I know in my heart that I can be anything, because I am everything that there has been in the universe.

iv. It still throws me off whenever someone who saw us, asks "what happened to the guy you used to always be FaceTiming?" It could be anyone from my colleagues to my sisters. I miss you, still, although I hate admitting it because damn, son, I let my guard down and let you in fully, and I really thought this could be it. You are sweet and I love the person you are, and I wish for you to meet someone to watch the next season of Terrace House with. You are so weird and I at once am bewildered by it and want to be the same kind of weird together with. None of the other guys understands the social justice warrior side of me the way you do. And nobody falls in love, the way you and I did.

v. Half a year ago, when, as was your pattern of coming back every two months, you approached me, I was oblivious as usual, rambling about you on Instagram or whatnot. Today is where it ends. I kept saying you were an open and honest person, but then again, you came back to me when you didn't have to and shouldn't have. You knew I would always be happy when you gave me the light of day, and you used it at your will. When you were caught in between, you offered no explanation to me and simply disappeared. You never properly apologised for your part in what you did, for not being safe although as a structures engineer, you should probably know the importance of protection and safeguards. I made excuses for you for months, and I waited and waited for you to say sorry properly, probably because of the severity of what you'd done with me, and your goddamn DNA was in me for a time. I saw and spoke about only all the good things that you'd done for me, because that is the person I am, but you were a solid class-A insensitive fuccboi. I am done with you, and we can both be relieved for this. You gave me a month of great times, but fifteen months of commiserating is about all I can afford you. I no longer want you to reappear ever again. I deserve better.

Monday, January 08, 2018


We have a cat whom we call Mochi. We live in a sixth-storey apartment. Today, Mochi fell (or jumped?) from the window. She was in shock when we found her but there weren’t any visible signs of bleeding. We tried to feed her water but then it came out bloody, so we think there is internal bleeding. We got to the vet, and they say there are signs of diarrhoea and they’re waiting for the painkillers they gave her to set in before they try an X-Ray. Wow, 2018, that was fast. My sisters and I were crying when we found her. I don’t know why I’m typing like this. It was so painful seeing her in shock like that, silly cat.


I really wonder who it is. Like literally I just wanna know who is behind the words. Whatever, I don’t think there will be any more engagement, there’s no point when it’s clearly imbalanced. It’s easy to troll/insult someone when your identity isn’t clear. That original post about school honestly had nothing to do with him, and I didn’t and don’t want to know about him, so please don’t be leaving comments when I’m trying to leave him out of it, because it is when you do, that my thoughts spiral towards him again. Also, I still fail to see how anything points towards me not being bright, but fine, you know what, I’ll take it. That’s your opinion of me, and I won’t try to change it.

In any case, I did pretty much all I’d planned to, today. Swam, read, wrote. I listened to a podcast about dialogue and exchange, how people are getting more polarised and some of it has to do with not listening to differing views and creating safe spaces for ourselves. The running theme was about how we should always try to engage, and to listen to precisely opposing opinions, without going into it with the mindset of changing the other party’s beliefs. I think that’s a really valuable perspective to remind myself of, that every single person is worth listening and talking to, for the sake of understanding and appreciating where they stand and where they’re coming from.


My brain had a little spasm. I thought of the comment someone made on one of my posts last week, about Joey having gone to UC Irvine. I cannot verify the truth of it, but I’m gonna err on the side of believing it, so that means it’s someone who knows him personally. I don’t know how close this person knows him, but if he has an identifiable girlfriend, the commenter would not have said anything on my post, right? Like, what does it matter that I dreamt of going to Joey’s previous school — if he has a girlfriend, the right thing to do is not ever say anything about Joey to me so he has as little relevance in my mind as possible. Jesus, I don’t know how far I’m stretching this but if he doesn’t have a girlfriend, then at least I don’t feel guilty for coveting some innocent girl’s boyfriend. If he does have a girlfriend, then fuck my life I swear I’m trying, I’m tryiiiiiiing to think of other things. I promise I’m a person with some semblance of a widely agreeable moral compass.

Sunday, January 07, 2018


Today I saw someone playing Pokémon Go, that game where you walk around collecting Pokémon. It surprised me that the game still exists, and I recall talking to Joey about it. He said it was natural selection that someone died while playing it, because they weren’t aware of their surroundings.

I wonder whether love means accepting people when they make politically-incorrect, rude remarks that, said by anyone else, you would immediately shut out and use as grounds to judge them harshly and critically. The man could be quite rude, and still my feelings for him were and are overwhelmingly positive.

If scientists want to do tests on love, I gladly volunteer. Inhibit my dopamine receptors or whatever. I would like to know, just as much as anyone else, what this love thing is and how it can be controlled. Then I will write a book about it.

Tomorrow is my off day. It is also the start of the second week of fifty-two in the year. I have had a very good and eventful week, so I excuse myself for not having written anything to contribute to my literature for the year. Tomorrow, though, will include a swim, a read, a block of time to write, and perhaps dinner with one of my best friends.

Some questions I have today are: is there anyone in the top 1% whom we could convince to divide/donate/share some of their wealth with the bottom 1% in the world? Income inequality worried me today, somehow more than any other day.

The second question, and this is not the first time I have asked it, but it hasn’t been answered, and so it came up again: why does California suffer from drought when they are a literal coastal area? Singapore doesn’t have enough water either, but we came up with NEWater for a portion of our water supply. I want to know whether the NEWater technology can be applied to Cali as well, or would it still not be enough, or — I dunno, who do I even ask this to?


One of my good guy friends, G (his name is Guillaume but I’m the only person who calls him G because it is easier than mispronouncing his name), whom I have never met because he lives in Paris, described me once as “complicated upfront” and I never really appreciated it fully until now.

I am prone to think that I am one of the most complicated people with a complicated life, because I am open and honest about it, but more and more, I think everyone has their share of complications. I used to feel, I dunno, inferior? Incompetent? Unhappy with myself?

Occasionally, though, I think at least I own up to my insecurities, at least I am honest about every thought and feeling and intention I have. At least I don’t say one thing, but mean another, from my apparent actions.

How sad. How so very sad.

This train smells like a musty carpet.

On a non-related note, the wedding dress I have liked and wanted for about 13 months (I first saw it on a TV show episode in Nov 2016 when one of the characters — who is now gay — was getting married to her boyfriend) is being resold and it’s very affordable for a gorgeous wedding gown. I even estimated the shipping costs and it doesn’t seem too bad.

I know for sure I want to wear that if I get married, but that’s an extremely long shot, especially given the fact that I’m single. But oh my God when I have my eyes set on an outfit, I must usually have it. Why do I like clothes so much? I am a horrible person. No I am not. I am a normal person. I love dresses, so the fuck what?

I didn’t watch the previous Star Wars film before The Last Jedi, so this was the first I was seeing Kylo Ren, and geez I dunno why I think he’s so appealing. Is it the conflicted, tormented soul, choosing between the dark side and the light? Is it the scar that runs across his face?

Saturday, January 06, 2018


I went to catch The Last Jedi today. I had many thoughts about it but the line that stuck with me most was “not fighting what we hate, but saving what we love”, I do not know why. I went to Nora’s wedding with my sister Mel, it was at Una@One Rochester. And it was a lovely, beautiful wedding. Full of laughter, from overpriced rides to Chantek the orangutan and who knows what else. In the car, I saw Holland Drive when we went by, and it niggled at my brain for a while, until I thought of Mulholland Drive. I feel like I have so much more to say but everything has been said in some form or variation. The photos from today are on Instagram. So beautiful, both the couple and the fairy-light-filled location.

Friday, January 05, 2018


wait, they don’t love you like I love you

In a typical day: I sleep eight hours (which I really need because working retail and being on my feet are a real bitch to my body), I spend nine hours at work, I take one and a half hours to travel to work and another one and a half hours to travel back so that takes up 20 hours of my day. The two meals I have in a day when I’m not at work take up another hour so that’s 21. That gives me 3 hours free to watch an episode of whatever or a drum cover done by girls/females, listen to a podcast, play with my cat, and wonder a slightly different thing every day, which ends up getting penned here. Today I read an article about the ummm, alternative lifestyles adopted by the higher echelons of Silicon Valley, and I’m wondering whether Joey would be involved. I saw hints of it when I was staying with him, but he also always seemed to have this decent streak, but he also tended to be quite a basic “bro”-type person. Maybe there are multiple facets to him, I mean some of my friends probably think the things I do are pretty wild, and then there are friends I have who would think I’m really tame, so. Different day, different personality? Perhaps we are all trained to be chameleons. You know what I’ve wondered for a really long time: whether Joey believes in love. Perhaps he doesn’t, and he thinks all of it is a concept perpetuated by the media, then I would really be wasting my time lololol. But you know, people surprise you all the time, like my best friends saying “evolution is a theory” and I’m like... ooookay???? I’m in the train to work, and I’m looking forward to Nora’s wedding tomorrow!

Thursday, January 04, 2018


questions of science
science and progress
do not speak as loud as
my heart

tell me you love me
come back and haunt me

Today I ate the spicy mala dish that my colleagues and I love to have, spiciest level. Given the fact that I’ve seen cancer on all sides of my family, I should really be more careful with what I eat, or at least put on sunscreen more often than now (which is never). Also I’ve been through more undue stresses than quite a few people I know, which might aggravate it.

If I ever get skin or stomach cancer, I say I called it first! If I don’t, then perhaps I’m just the luckiest.

Wednesday, January 03, 2018


throw your weight around behind me

Sometimes the things I hear people saying can be quite savage. For example, I was telling someone that the person who works for the thing I was applying to is a good friend of my ex-boyfriend (I meant B), and then she said “oh your first love.” I then asked, “wait which one, M or B?” because M is my first boyfriend, and B is the second. She said “oh come on, Sarah” and we both laughed because we both know I stayed with my first boyfriend for a year and I don’t think I ever actually really loved him. In my defence, I was 17 and barely knew what love was, and I would say, perhaps nor did he, at 19. I don’t know, we were young and stupid and he wasn’t my first love, okay?

Then there is the matter of “if you wanted a friend with benefits, you would have 20 better people queuing up. Who does he think he is?” HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. To be honest, I do have to make a disclaimer that this person is not the first to try, and he will not be the first to succeed. Number one, I always have waaaaaay too many feelings to even try being friends with benefits. Number two, if I ever considered it, the only person who qualifies would probably be Joey, so it’s a fucking good thing he’s 14000km away. Even then, if it was feasible and he wanted to be friends with benefits, I’d see so much less appeal in him. I dunno, men are so weird. If you don’t give me what I want (ie. a relationship), in what universe do you think I would give you what you want by being friends with benefits?

My best friend yesterday said that she was rooting for me and Joey, and then she said it’s only ‘cos she wanted an in to see SpaceX, being the aircraft engineer that she is who had childhood dreams of being an astronaut. I fucking snorted in laughter. Sometimes I wonder whether I’m the most honest person I know, or she is.

Today at work, my colleague was offering some vanilla biscuits, and he said “this is what a white basic bitch would taste like.”

Jesus effing christ people can be so savage!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jsyk, I actually really like vanilla. Vanilla ice-cream. And vanilla whatever. Vanilla is not basic?????

Today one of my thoughts was: “I wish Joey would like and love me back and we would live happily forever after.” Then I told myself I’m not a Disney princess. Still. The wish is real. Also, my god if he has a girlfriend now and she knows about me, she would probably hate the living fuck out of me and I wouldn’t even blame her GTFO SARAH


Yesterday was a great day. I met a person I’ve admired for a while, and she was really nice and cool. I was a little starstruck, and it was awesome to see their.... milestone framed up in the office. So cool. I’m not sure what or how to write about it, because I kinda don’t wanna give away the context, but it was a really good morning. I was asked interesting questions and I chose to go the vulnerable route but somehow I was still at ease and comfort because they felt so genuine and it felt more like conversation. I wish I could ask them the same things and get to know them better as well. One of them is a good friend of a man I used to love. It’s so weird to think that. She told me he’s engaged now, which I’m really glad and happy about. He deserves it. I wonder what I would feel if someday someone told me Joey was engaged. Damn, I wonder when enough time will pass so that that will not feel like too much of a suckerpunch. I’m actually excited about what happened yesterday but I know I shouldn’t hype myself up when there’s no cause to yet.

Tuesday, January 02, 2018


Happy one and a half days into a new year. I downloaded Baby Driver on my iTunes and paid for it. Zack recommended it to me but ironically, it is Joey I was reminded of, because it is about a driver who listens to music to drown out a humming sound in his ears, residual effects of an accident. I haven’t watched it yet, but I thought of Joey because I remember he said he didn’t have Netflix: “why would I pay for something I can get for free? I live in America” but I couldn’t find a working link for Baby Driver besides iTunes, so I paid for my copy. In my wildest dreams, Joey plays the violin for me. I never saw him playing the violin, but on what I think was my third weekend with him, he said during a party held at their house while I wasn’t around and I was somewhere else in LA, two girls stumbled (I say stumbled but I would reckon it must have been a calculated move) into his room and admired him playing the violin. I never understood why he related this anecdote to me, I know he has the attractional, gravitational force of nothing and nobody I have ever known before. I just wanted to punch his face after he told me that. Yesterday, I told a friend that I don’t want to talk to Joey because if he has a girlfriend, I don’t want to be that person. I don’t ever want to be that person in life. But I need someone else to have a gravitational force to change my course for long enough that I break out of Joey’s. It’s like I’m a comet, and as long as I’m in the sun’s gravity, I will always revolve around it, unless and until some other planet comes along. I wonder if what I’m asking for is someone to consciously be a rebound. It seems like it. Geez whiz. I want to pay someone to do my school applications for me. I don’t have enough time off from work to do them, every time I get home I just want to nestle in a cocoon and stagnate. After all this effort, if I ever lose my drive, I must come back to these and remember it took me this much and this long to get to study, I’d better make the most of it and enjoy it while it happens.

Monday, January 01, 2018


Happy new year. Last night I dreamt of Joey, a young one with longer hair and he had piercings. I bet he was not at all like what I dreamt of young-Joey. I have a really good memory, and this is because my brain makes connections between every single thing I know, so the synapses never end. They just go on and on and on and although my genes are fucked cancer-wise, I doubt I’ll suffer from losing my memory. But then you never know. There were fireworks to signal the new year in Singapore, and they were very pretty and I thought of 4th of July, and Joey. For some reason this also made me think of when Joey was in Japan and they were supposed to go to Mt Fuji but he said the people he was travelling with were not the best with directions. Rocket scientists have flaws. It is 2018, which means it is time to seek out my future school. Sciencespeed.

Happy new year, to you and yours. I think I still love Joey and I don’t understand what this means but then, do I ever?

Sunday, December 31, 2017


Several hours ago, a man I dated for a while this year, told me that one of the highlights of his 2017 was having met me. It was a sweet gesture and the kind that really warms my heart, because I've always been the kind of person who tells people about how I feel, etc.

It went on for about two months, which might not be the longest timeframe in terms of dating, but it also took up one-sixth of my year, which is a sizeable proportion if you think about it.

Although I no longer think of him as dating material or as a potential significant other, he and I have gotten to a point where we can be quite candid with each other about our thoughts and feelings, so I told him that I still want to talk to Joey, even though by all intents and purposes, I shouldn't.

He brought up extremely valid points: "why are you chasing someone on the other side of the world" "is it to relive whatever you felt while with him?" "you know that's all in the past"

He said this three hours ago, and I didn't have the answers then, so I went to sleep. But now, I wake up at 5am, and I feel like my brain thought about it while I was sleeping and I have an answer for myself, to those questions.

When I went to LA last year ie. 2016, I'd told myself to leave all my past burdens and worries behind. Everything from family issues to being used by men who were just lying to everyone and cheating with me, I put aside and said I had to get over with my two months in California.

So I did. While I was going through my summer and for a couple of months after, I genuinely and honestly felt that it was easily, without question, the best time of my life. I fit in several amazing, lovely things, with amazing, lovely people into a time of two months, which is a huge chunk of amazing lovely experiences if you think about it.

And then I got back, and found out that Joey and I had literally created a life, but then I lost it. Along with that, when my mum found out and reacted to me in her fit of anger and mistrust, I lost trust for my mum, the person I'd always looked up to and had thought I could always turn to for support. I struggled, mentally and physically, for a really long while.

It went from being the best time in my life, to the worst, in next to no time at all. I've only recently gotten back to what I would say is my normal self, or the person I have been over an average of twenty-seven years, so yes, I haven't had the time to go through new experiences, and make new memories, to reminisce about or enjoy or hold dear to me.

I know that given enough time, I will be able to enjoy someone else's company, and I will be able to move on. But I haven't. So I think about Joey. I think about the best time in my life, to anchor myself to the fact that I still have those memories, despite struggling through some of the worst feelings.

And there is another reason why I think Joey seems to stand out among the men I've historically dated. He's never been a man of words, or at least he wasn't with me. I don't know him long enough or well enough to know whether that is his true default, but I feel like that is probably the case.

With Joey, I never had to hold him up to anything. He was.... wise (?) enough to never promise a single thing. It was always: "do you want to race in the canyons?" "yes" "okay let's get you some jeans and a jacket" or "do you want to go to the beach?" "yes please" "let's go" or "do you wanna follow me to buy my bike?" "sure" or you get my drift, he would ask what I wanted to do, right there and then, and we would do it.

I wanted to watch The Little Prince, so we watched it, although I fell asleep and I think he watched more of it than I did. We watched Salmon Fishing in the Yemen, because I wanted to. We watched Rick and Morty, because I wanted to. He tried to watch Hamilton, but fell asleep, because I wanted to let him watch it. He would ask if I wanted to help him out with his car, and then we would do so. I would read a book while he fixed up the eleventeen million wires on his dashboard. I would read a book while he watched videos of Blue Origin launches and make snarky comments, and I would tell him not to be such an asshole, while we both giggled.

With Joey, he never planned to do things, he just went and did shit.

In contrast, there have been dozens of men who have planned so many things for me and with me. "I promise we'll get steak one day" "yes we will have a road trip and listen to our playlist" "I'll bring you to my favourite ice-cream place" "let's watch every season of this together" and it happened again and again and again, and these men, I know they're not malicious, they just... get too carried away, which is what I do, and then what's left is an abyss of empty promises, and plans unfulfilled.

I hate it, I hate when men do that, because I've never had the most trustworthy of male role models, and I just wish they would stop doing that. Don't promise me anything if you can't stick to your word. I have been disappointed enough for a lifetime, to go through it again.

It is about 18 hours to the new year in Singapore. This post might not have been on the most positive of notes, but I'm feeling quite alright about 2018. I think it'll be okay, which is better than I can say about 2017. Have an okay 2018, y'all. :)


I know it’s the last day of the year and perhaps the usual thing to do is count your blessings etc and look forward to a new year but I just watched Hang The DJ, which is now my favourite episode of Black Mirror ever, and sweet baby jesus christ, this show has always been intense, but this one had me clutching my heart it was so well-planned and well-written and things like this always make me feel like I WANT TO BE THE ONE THINKING OF SUCH THINGS AND WRITING IT BEFORE BLACK MIRROR STEALS ALL MY CONCEPTS JESUS I love it so much and it’s so good and IM CRIES in other news it is the last day of 2017 and I still love Joey so yeah, the more things change, the more everything stays the same. I dunno????? Life makes no sense and nor do I, okay???

oh but anyone who knows what love is
will understand

Saturday, December 30, 2017


I’m still very confused. If Joey had really been from UC Irvine, that was an uncannily spot-on dream I had, that I was late to a school which he might have attended that I didn’t know about, nor included in my applications. If he didn’t attend, then some strange person is being misleading and I don’t understand anything anymore.

All things considered, I watched the first episode of Black Mirror S4, USS Callister, and it was an amazing one. Black Mirror remains my favourite TV series in all everness and inspires me to no end. Christmas came slightly late, the new year is here slightly early, yadda yadda yadda. I aim to watch all six episodes before the end of the year, which will take quite a bit of coordination because I’m still working 8-hour shifts of each day this weekend.


Friday, December 29, 2017


In a turn of events, I found out from an anonymous comment on my last post, that Joey apparently went to UC Irvine, perhaps for undergrad studies, if the comment is to be trusted? Who is this phantom? I always only knew he went to Oxford Brookes in the UK but realised that was probably postgrad because I read his masters thesis. I swear I never had any inkling that he went to UC Irvine (IF he really did, but I’m so confused???) but I dreamt that I was late for school there?! Where Joey went?!? I could have dreamt of UCLA, or Berkeley or the actual universities I actually applied at in the US but I dreamt of Irvine? What the fuck even anymore?

This world makes no sense. So many questions?¿

EDIT: BLACK MIRROR IS OUT, BITCHEZZZZ IM OUT I KNOW WHAT IM DOING THIS WEEKEND lol no im jokes tbh im working now and im working the entire weekend

All is right with the world again. Black Mirror is out!!!!!!!!


I’ve been pushing aside the thought of school so much it’s popping up in my dreams. I dreamt I was late for school at UC Irvine (which I’ve never even applied to) and I was rushing to find my Uber to get to class. From Singapore. I was trying to take a car for a 14000km journey in 15 minutes. Geez I’m tired. Three days to the new year and till I start applying for school again. Perhaps it is a good thing I never really had money to study and I never really studied much, because now all I want to do is study. A few of my peers say I don’t really have to study to get where I want in life, that I don’t need a college degree but I really just want to because I would enjoy it and it’s all my brain wants to do. Hey fraaaanz do me a favour and all of you just somehow hope and wish and put out good thoughts that I’ll be accepted to a good school for journalism (and sidenote wish for the finances to also sort itself out), please and thank you friends, it would make my 2018 xxxxxxx

The new season of Black Mirror is going to be out in the US in a few hours but Singapore has to wait a day because the US has to be ahead in everything even though we start our day first and I pay exactly the same for my Netflix. This is why I have the greatest love-hate relationship with all things stateside. They just want to be the first and the best in everything and I hate that I’m not part of them. Not yet.

Thursday, December 28, 2017


Han came over to help me with an interview I’m going for next week. Fingers crossed I get it! We read a joke piece that involved robi737. She also saw my cat Mochi for the first time, and kept sneezing, because Han has asthma. I had a great day. It was a great day.

Did you know that the link between brain neurons is called a synapse, and to prevent the deterioration of Alzheimer’s or memory-related diseases, you can increase the number of synapses there are between your neurons?

For example, if your association with the word “hoe” is an object that is used for gardening, you can also create other bridges across to that word like making a pun on the word “ho ho ho” from Santa Claus, or the derogatory term “ho” which is slang for “whore”. The more synapses and connections you make to things and facts and terms, the more bridges you have to help you get to a word and the harder it will be for such a word to drop off from your memory or your radar of words.

Your brain has a capacity for up to a hundred trillion synapses. Use them and make them. Every fact you know can branch out to a hundred other facts.

Wednesday, December 27, 2017


i. Do you find yourself saying humanly unacceptable things to your cat bc lbr if you don’t then what even is the point of having a cat tbh

ii. I watched the first episode of the Neil deGrasse Tyson reboot of Cosmos on Netflix, then read a National Geographic issue on astronauts, and thought of Joey bc lbr when do I not think of Joey? Then I got reminded of something Zack said last week. 

He apparently said something really smart but I completely forgot what it was because he followed it up immediately with something really hilarious, he said “take that, brainy SpaceX guy, I’m smart too” which amuses me to No End!!! So cute and candid!

Benchmark for guys to beat is now “brainy SpaceX guy” jesus cool beans but I told Zack I knew he, Zack, was smart too, of course because that happens to be my only prerequisite for dating and attraction, a man just has to be some kind of smart/brainy/intelligent and yet none of my dating adventures have turned out all that well?

Is it that the smarter a man is, the more douchey he could be? Is this a hypothesis to be tested? Perhaps so, my dear Watson, perhaps so, indeed.

iii. Today I came to my own consensus that any man would be lucky to have me. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. This is why I have a cat I can talk to, because she doesn’t voice her opinion even if she disagrees.

iv. If I end up alone in life, it makes me feel better that in the grand scale of the Cosmic Calendar, we are only taking place in the last what, twenty seconds in the 13-billion-year-history of our observable universe? My life does not matter. Somehow, this makes me feel infinitely better. At least I have the cognisance of what has happened in the brief history of time. I appreciate being me much more than I would have liked being a dinosaur.

v. EDIT: perhaps some of me IS actually made of dinosaur dust???? COOL BEANS im so????? Confused???? Can this be true???? Here is today’s inane Google search of the day, holy cheese crackers, sometimes I can’t tell if I’m smart or stupid

“Can I be made of dinosaur” — Sarah Mei Lyana, (2017)
No but like dyou know what I mean, if we’re made from stardust, what if there was another galaxy or another solar system or whatever world that had dinosaurs and then they became part of the stars that formed the people you and I know now, if there are multiple worlds I’m gonna say this is a possibility, however infinitesimal.

Tuesday, December 26, 2017


Twenty-eighteen is going to be my year. As such, I will not use Tinder, OKCupid or whatever online dating application or sites to find or meet people. Not from Jan 1 all the way through Dec 31, 2018. I don’t give a fuck if I am bored, lonely, depressed, frisky, whatever. None of these counts as valid justification. Instead, I will spend my time doing all the things I desperately need to be doing and should have done all this while: writing my novel and/or short stories, learning to drum, reading, and applying for further education. So many things to do, and men aren’t one of them.


Dear Joey, I want to text you, but I don’t. I know my feelings are valid to me, but they don’t have to be validated to the world, and I don’t have to act on them. I love and miss you, even if sometimes I hate you and wish we had never met. I love and miss you, even if I am dating someone else and liking them as people and enjoying their company. I love and miss you, even as I am looking through Facebook profiles of people I haven’t talked to, and thinking there are still so many people I have yet to make acquaintance with, and they are so interesting and so impressive and so funny (at least in terms of online statuses and whatnot). I love and miss you, even if I have not seen you for fifteen months nor talked to you for half a year. I don’t know why you, I don’t understand my feelings, I don’t want to give power to them, but there they are, bubbling under the surface. I love and miss you, as I dream about the literal words “love of my life” and I semi-lucid-dream turning the man in my dream into you. Jesus. My only consolation is hoping everybody feels this way about the people they love until they find someone else to love, just that they don’t write letters about it.

Saturday, December 23, 2017


Today I got my period while I was at work. I never usually take painkillers when I get period cramps. I picked it up from my mother, because she doesn't like medication, so I also always tried to go the hippy, natural, wholesome, no-medication way, thinking that if I tough it out, the next time my body would be stronger and I will feel better eventually.

"Eventually" has dragged itself out for what, fourteen years? And seriously, if I died tomorrow, would it have been worth it to have lost one to two days for every month of my life to feeling chronic debilitating pain, in the hope of some imaginary future? Nope.

In any case, my work day had almost just started and I needed to power through so I took an Advil from a colleague and quite immediately I almost forgot I was having my period. Jesus H Christ, this year's Christmas present to me came in the form of an Advil, and I will always make sure to take it for future periods.

I pick up the weirdest habits from my mother. It's time to unlearn all the inherited weird thinking, at 27. Never too late, right?

I told Han about the Advil 'cos she's having her period too (best friend period buddies) and she reminded me of the time she had a bad headache while she, Nick and I were having Korean BBQ at Koreatown.

Exactly two years ago to this date, I was starting to fall for Nick when we met him in LA. I think at this time he was probably letting us skateboard but Han and I were too cold. Psh, we're such noobs, LA doesn't even really get a winter.

Will I forget my feelings for Joey if I fall for someone new? Is it ever going to actually happen? I thought I'd fallen for men this year, but now I just don't feel anything for any of them. Why Joey, though? Does another man have to knock me up to take his place?

Holy mother of god.

Friday, December 22, 2017


So one year ago, I wrote a post titled A NON-DENOMINATIONAL HOLIDAY NON-LOVE LETTER and published it on December 25. I deleted my copy of the letter and everything I'd written in the past decade, but I only just realised Google's cache of every single page I'd published still exists and is accessible.

Which means the saying is true: anything and everything you post online will never truly go away. Also: it has been 365 days, and still, the letter seems to hold true. Good job, and well done, Sarah, you have truly outdone yourself. #sarahcasm
When I was staying at Bill's house, he asked me about the trip I'd had so far and although I had experienced so much prior to meeting you, I could not stop gushing about you. Bill said "you really actually love him, that's amazing. I've never had that, and that's so rare to see."

I knew that I was and am inherently different from Angelenos, where everybody is busy working and carving a career for themselves to put too much care into love: heck, even in Singapore, I'm the girl who feels too much. So I say, tone it down and check yourself, lest he be wary of you and all your emotions.

I don't love you when I tell you my life story and cry and you say "I would want to run away if that was happening to me", I don't love you when you call me at 3am as I'm asleep somewhere in Tahoe and I'm groggy and I ask who you are although of course I know who you are, of course my heart knows your voice, and you say, offended: "what? it's Joey!" I don't love you when I'm reading beside you while you are working on your car in the garage and Ti'aan teases that you are always thinking about me when you're drunk, which Ti'aan says is a good thing because a person loses his inhibitions when drunk and what you say is what you really want to say.

I don't love you as you tell me about the smart kids who get school trips to SpaceX, and their really intelligent questions, and I don't love you as I wish I'd been passionate enough to ask something that you would deem intelligent. I don't love you as I see you playing the keyboard and I want so much to hug you but I feel you would be overwhelmed, that you would know of how much I don't love you, so I hold myself back and watch you through the mirror.

I honestly don't love you when you ask me what my favourite movie was as we're eating sushi, on the day we went to Thousand Oaks to get your Triumph, and I got really pissy because you'd already asked me for my favourite film, and you didn't remember.

I don't love you during my last weekend that we spent in Hermosa, when you gripped my hand tight to lead me back to safety, all the while I needed to pee and would not stop bugging you about it. I don't love you as we reached your place, and finding that Russ was also concussed there, and you take care of him and put him to bed.

I especially don't love you when we were at Hermosa and I stop myself from running my fingers through your newly-cut hair, and while I was in your embrace, you say "I'm gonna miss you" but you refuse to say it again when I pretend that I missed it, either because you are so loath to express your feelings thanks to a culture of toxic/fragile masculinity or because you don't want to legitimise it because I'm leaving soon. I don't love you at all.

I don't love you as I'm showing you a bootleg of Hamilton and you fall asleep, then defensively say "it's muffled! I can't really hear what they're singing!" although of course you can - if I can make out what they're singing, surely any American worth their salt can make it out.

I don't love you as I tremble in my bedroom, finding out life-changing information, wondering how we could have done something that would eventually change my life and me as a person, while simultaneously thanking God that if such a thing was happening, it was with you, because I'd never felt safer in my life.

Happy holidays. I don't love you, and I always will.
Oh my god help is there a timeline where Joey and I don't cross paths, can Rick and Morty exist so I can switch to an alternate dimension, please help. I want to pretend all this isn't true anymore and it doesn't affect me but that is not me as a person. The person I am simultaneously acknowledges everything she feels and resents herself for it. Suddenly I'm reminded of the episode (Morty's Mind Blowers) where Morty realises there are times when he's fucked up so bad that he gets Rick to erase those experiences from his memory. I am such a Morty yeurgh oh well at least I'm not Jerry.

Thursday, December 21, 2017


Exactly two years ago, Han and I boarded our flight for my first trip to LA. She and I have been feeling extremely nostalgic about that trip, her because it was her only Couchsurfing experience and she felt it was an authentic immersive time, down to the cosy Topanga Christmas party we were invited to, and myself because, well why not? LA literally changed my life.

Yesterday, I watched The Mars Generation on Netflix.

It was nice to see SpaceX, and the rooms that I'd been in. Not gonna lie, I tried to see if I could spot Joey in the scenes of SpaceX and reusable rockets, hahahahahahahaha. He was probably there, somewhere, but no he didn't appear in the show.

It was adorable to see all the kids at Space Camp, so intelligent and such curious minds, doing experiments that would cause their rockets to lift off while protecting the payload of their eggstronauts. I remember asking Joey whether he enjoyed his job, and he says it's interesting, because sometimes he gets kids asking very smart questions.

Am I gonna start waxing lyrical about my love for Joey? No, but you know I will always love the man. Both for practical reasons like the fact that he housed me for weeks while I was a complete stranger, and for completely illogical reasons, because love does not make sense.

This morning, I received an email from Ted Radio Hour. I'd been gushing about them and recommending the podcasts to pretty much anyone who would listen, then realised I should send them some feedback and validate the work they were doing.

I'd almost forgotten I'd written them a lengthy email (because I am a fairy of words) and it was nice to know that they read it and even made time to respond. It also reminded me of my own focus. Come on, Sarah, there are people who were made to be rocket scientists, or aircraft engineers, or doctors or lawyers, but this, your journey was for you. Among seven billion people in the world, this one's for you. Don't lose focus.

Sciencespeed. (Yeah, I decided to come up with this as an alternative to Godspeed.) If we ever colonise Mars, we'd better not bring along myths of gods, and anyone who's religious can sort themselves out on Earth.


Today I went to the market with my grandma. We didn't use any plastic bags, just used the trolley all the way home. This might not seem like a big deal to some of you, but in Singapore, everybody still uses plastic bags and older folks definitely ask for double-bagging for their groceries. Geez.

It worried me a little, shopping with my Nyai. She asked me to get potatoes, and meat, and quite a few things, more than once, after we'd gotten them. :( When Shahida was here last weekend and ate my grandma's cooking, she said, not for the first time, that my grandma is a living treasure. I think it might be high time to start learning to cook/get some of her recipes down before her memory really fails.

She's the one who raised me and up till now, I think she still has qualms about me living overseas on my own. Traditions are hard to break out of.

Today I was too lazy to walk the twenty minutes to the pool so I decided to stay home and do the only thing I can do and enjoy doing -- planking.

One time, I tried to do yoga by myself, did it for ten minutes and somehow fell asleep for an hour. Anyway, I realised that I haven't cycled for a really long while - it's a good thing you can't forget how to swim or cycle.

Time to go for a cross-country cycle? You bet.

Wednesday, December 20, 2017


This morning, I woke up to a text from Zack about the equalism thing.

Here is a reminder that text conversations are not conversations, and will never replace conversations. If you want to talk about something that either of you considers important, you need to listen to each other's tones and words, and pauses. You each have time to address every point and talk things through instead of having a barrage of information, afterwhich you respond with your own barrage of information. There are about a gazillion ways a text can be misconstrued and so should be avoided for touchy topics. Texts are not the best gauge of anything much, except perhaps whether a person is interested in a subject enough to want to spend time texting about it, in which case, this passes.

Christ in a cupcake, I'm hungry.