Thursday, February 8, 2018


I am on my way back to work, in the train. Next week I am working only two days out of seven, because it is Lunar New Year and I took time off to spend with my family and for just resting by myself. I’m three days away from the new week. Three days. At the moment, tired as I am, I am glad that I have Lin-Manuel Miranda’s voice talking on podcasts for me to listen to, that February has been and will continue to be a breeze, that my life is the most fantastic and beautiful mess. I love it. I’m telling you, the truth shall set you free, and in some ways, I am much more free than many people, I think. I say all my truths and I am not held back by conventional barriers.


I came home last night, or early this morning technically ‘cos we were doing set-up at work, to find that Mochi’s leg was no longer bandaged and everyone else was asleep so I had to wake them up to send her to the vet because her broken leg was limp and dangly and red and infected. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way.

There are certain things I tell myself not to mention, despite having possibly the most flexible and weakest filter known to most of humankind, because I know some things don’t have to be said. This, however, directly clashes with my honesty and owning up to what I feel, because I don’t like to hide anything. Last night, I was reminded of course, of the first time I’d stayed overnight for Christmas set-up, during which time Adam was at Comic-Con and he was nervous about it. In the morning, when I was cabbing home, he sang me a song. I loved him at that point, as I possibly still do now. I miss Adam.

When all is said and done, I will always say and do all the things. Have a great weekend y’all.


One time, back when Khalis was teaching me to drum, he said that although drums are supposed to set the beat for songs, there are just as many tracks in contemporary music that have the songs written and drums added on to complete the sound of it. I first noticed this in OneRepublic’s Good Life and ever since, I’ve never been able to unhear it — the jarring juxtaposition of the completely off-sounding drums that are filling up spaces instead of setting the beat. I don’t know how I can explain this.

Someone should write a modern-day love story, where the protagonist has about six different love interests, and likes each of them for different things and dislikes them for different things as well, and how complicated modern-dating can get, what with social media, and exes returning and reappearing. I want to say this is a modern issue, but then I think of Pride and Prejudice and I think again, perhaps not. Are you going to be my Darcy? Will you get over your hurt pride as I let go of my prejudice? Who am I even addressing? I don’t know, it could be any one of my six love interests. HAHAHAHAHAHA. Jesus. I am both Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy, I’m complicated enough without a man trying to win my affections.