Wednesday, February 21, 2018


Sometimes I wonder if I’m a social climber of the strangest kind. I could have gotten pregnant with anyone’s child, but it had to be someone I met in LA, who was one degree away from a name at the forefront of technology at that. Then I think I also really liked Adam, who is pretty much the opposite end of the spectrum, who recently only got his membership card at a socialist club (or whatever it’s called — I’m not scrolling through his Instagram) and he and I said when I was in New York, he would help me when I’m getting pads and tampons and giving them to homeless femmes if they wanted them. Like, only last year I realised I had nothing to complain about during my period, I have a roof over my head and always have, I have access to clean and functional sanitation facilities, I have the money for painkillers, and there are so many less fortunate women in the world, and I want to help as many of them as possible, because you’re only as strong as your weakest link and if there is a woman in destitution, fuck me and my soaking in bathtubs, srsly. Today I saw someone working at an American-based multinational corporation, at the Singapore office, and I think of how Singapore has absolutely no resources to speak of, not even land, and it’s trying so hard to keep all its people, it has to have its people on lockdown in terms of finances and housing and everything within its fathomable control. On the other hand we have places like USA that has problems keeping people out, that even if its own citizens left by the hordes, it wouldn’t try to stop them. I think and I think and I think there must be a flaw in the system, a loophole I can exploit, something I can use as a bargaining chip, but there isn’t. I’m just going against nature, I’m swimming upstream. I am a salmon. And that’s the end of this thought thread.


My life isn't even worth one coin.

Actually, there is no follow-up to that, I just wanted to say at 27 years old, on Feb 22, 2018, my life and all I own isn't worth one single Bitcoin. I mean, if you don't count my money that is tied up in CPF (ie. our government-mandated 20% "savings" that I'm unable to touch until I retire at 97 billion years old or if I stop being a citizen of Singapore for five years - meaning, once I've migrated and renounce my citizenship, I will have five years to count down until my trip around the world or something).

Bitcoin apparently fluctuates quite wildly, though, so perhaps next month I would be able to own five? Meh, who knows. Who cares. Life will end. Follow your bliss. Also: not that I have any interest in owning Bitcoin. The more things you own, the more things own you. Is it time to rewatch Fight Club? Perhaps, perhaps not. My life is ending one word at a time.

Today, I asked Adam what he's currently reading (answer: Dance Dance Dance by Haruki Murakami) and when I opened my laptop to blog, I realised our old iMessage conversation history had all reloaded itself and I was enjoying my reminiscence until I accidentally clicked close on the tab, GOD FUCKING DAMN.

Will I ever get over this man? Perhaps, perhaps not. But you know, life ends, follow your bliss and all that. If I want to read about us being cute and enjoying each other being cute, I WILL DO SO. Anyhow, I'm sure there is a way for me to retrieve the conversation somewhere in the archives of my iCloud or whatever. Someday I'll do it. Or maybe not. Don't know, don't care. Life will end.