Saturday, February 17, 2018


This is the sixth post I’ve put on here today. I am on the way to work, on a Sunday, and the third day of the Lunar New Year. This morning I recalled again, why I am so dissatisfied living in Singapore, despite it not having gun issues and natural disasters, etc. It is because nothing much happens here. One of the days that I feel most alive in this tiny island country, is in the middle of the year, at PinkDot, our version of a pride march, that is only allowed to happen with a list of caveats, that grows longer every year, as the government realises its growth. I have never been to a women’s march, nor any march, to be honest, because that is not what happens here. People here have been metaphorically (or otherwise) beaten to submission, nobody dares to step out of line. That’s why I like to travel to places where everything happens, the epicentre of media attention. Maybe that’s why people like to keep their eyes out for me, living vicariously with none of the personal risks, because they know I’m a hurricane who will never be satisfied. I’m not saying it is a good thing, sometimes I wonder why I have to be such a contrarian, why I will never be at ease unless I’m fighting for something, why my life always has to be caught in a whirlwind, when I will find a partner who will anchor me down and be my roots to the ground, somewhere. But it is what it is. I am what I am.


I woke up from a dream then started talking to Irene, who lives in Boston now and who says it’s currently 0 degrees Celsius and she and her husband are recovering from the flu. This flu thing, has it not affected anyone this season? I feel like it has moved to every corner of the Earth. I miss Irene, and I dunno how relevant this is (probably not at all) but I’m likely to meet Freya soon before she leaves to work in Dubai. It’s nice to see my girls overseas, it means that borders sometimes only exist in minds. I saw a photo of A at a bar, and a few days ago he said he was staying away from drinking ‘cos it helps him feel better, and I know from firsthand experience that mixing alcohol with mood regulators is a no-no. My head hurts from wondering if he’s drinking but yknow, I am going to trust that he knows what he’s doing, and I am nobody’s mother, and I am not here to take care of anyone, he is a very competent adult and I need to go back to sleep.


Nice people made the best Nazis. My mom grew up next to them. They got along, refused to make waves, looked the other way when things got ugly and focused on happier things than “politics.” They were lovely people who turned their heads as their neighbors were dragged away. You know who weren’t nice people? Resisters. — Naomi Shulman


It’s one of those times, a rarity, where I feel like by the grace of something I am unable to name, I have been placed in a very fortunate spot, that I am me. I am grateful I am me, that I was placed right here, because I would not exchange it to be anybody else. I really would not rather be a myriad of people I can think of, so yes, today, this instant, I am proud to be me. Is this just the ice-cream talking? Perhaps, but perhaps I have been someone I would always be proud of, and I will not take it away from me, not tonight. Good night/good day, everyone, I love you. :)


Today was a very good day. I spent it with my family. In Singapore (because I don’t know how it is celebrated in other countries), Chinese families celebrate Lunar New Year by indulging in steamboats/hotpots/BBQs, and married couples give red packets of money to non-married people. I earn my own keep but it’s always nice to have a little extra and feel young and carefree. Today I felt very happy about myself. I like myself for being brave, it has been about a year and I have made some tough and painful moves but I have grown and learned beyond where I was last year. If I could have this fearlessness to keep moving on, all the time, I will be proud of myself. Keep moving, Sarah, keep on moving forward. One can only hope one will never be so blind to the timesuck they are kept in.


I wonder what about me warrants such persistent attention, is it the fact that I don’t want to stay in the country I was born and raised in? Are my thoughts extraordinary? Is my 100% honesty refreshing? Is my writing astoundingly amazing? I have very average thoughts, I think. So why the preoccupation? Would you like to be friends with me? Because, to tell you the truth, I love making friends, as long as you are not a man I have been involved with.

Some things, I’ll never understand.

I returned to add more to this post. So like one of my sort-of-favourite things I love-hate to do is seeing a Lush Instagram post that’s more “controversial” like perhaps two men sharing a bath or when they say trans women are also women and deserve equal rights and there’s a photo of a Women’s March crowd, and then.

There will always be comments by people who say Lush is being too “politically correct” and that they just wanted to know about new bath bombs, not get political, and they are reconsidering whether to support Lush, and I’m like, aww honeeeeeey, go ahead and get gone.

People will stop at nothing to spread their hate, and I love that I work at Lush, and Lush will always take the side of love and moral integrity. Political correctness is not just gaining traction because it’s politically correct, it’s just the humanly decent thing to do, and yes, everything has to be politicised, because if it isn’t politicised, it will never change, and ignorance would prevail, so nope, we don’t want that happening. Not today, not anymore, Satan.