Goodbye, Goodnight.

One day you will realise that the infallible will fail you. And when that one day comes, you will want to burrow deeper into the depths of your duvets and never ever emerge again.

Happy Sunday to you.

Controlled Chaos

There will come a time in your life, where you will repulsively realize that every aspect happens to be spinning rapidly out of control. Your phone is out of juice, you may have had a drink more than you should have and you’re patiently waiting for the last bus to come whisk you home from the bus stop-all while trying to refrain from vomiting on your brand new shoes.

I am a little buzzed right now. Everything seems a little happier than it is, a little more positively charged than how it usually feels. When you have the right amount of alcohol in your system, you feel like the world speaks in helium voices. (The kind where people kind of speak in chipmunk-ish pitches instead of their usual ones? Yeah.) My throat is burning, apparently beer doesn’t help with the soothing of sore throats and neither does liquor. My thoughts are chaotic in my head, like flies kept in a bottle, driven mad with containment, driven desperate by claustrophobia. I haven’t written in a long time I’ve realized, perhaps too long to maintain my internal equilibrium, driving my sanity to a corner and letting something else take over. What exactly, I’m not very sure.

If I were to have a daughter in future, I hope she’ll be a wild child like me. Children who have been exposed to the toughest of shit tend to hold themselves better when things get rough. And things always get rough. I hope she’ll deal with things the exact same way I do, because I think I’m doing pretty damn well right now.

I just got my Macbook Pro, and I’m gonna shoot some zombies right now. Fuck the world, everything is nothing compared to a zombie apocalypse. Adios my friends, and wish me luck. May the best man survive.

When Life Falls Apart, Hope Takes its Place


I thought I’d do some writing here before I jump into the tragic mess that is my local university applications, of which I, being so arrogant, have contemptuously ignored, pushed away and left to the very last minute. There were a few times this week, where I’ve set myself in front of the computer willing myself to update, yet unable to do so because my thoughts, my poor thoughts were so tangled, jumbled and woven into each other that it would have been impossible for me to pull each strand out and arrange them into a legible form. I do have to get down to some serious serious writing after this (and by serious I do not mean a 300 word essay for the SMU applications but rather a letter to my mother), and I thought doing some warm up here would be a good start.

Listening to the voice of a very talented boy on Youtube (sstec09, Youtube him!) and it sounds like heartbreak. I hardly know any of the songs he sings, I listen because his voice, its just this mix of heartache, sorrow and maybe a tinge of indifference. Thanks to the constant looping of “We Are Young”, I felt indestructible for most of the week, yet yesterday, after I got home from a couple of drinks, a single word managed to drag me down from the highest of pedestals into the deepest of pits. I don’t take rejection very well, never did, never will. I was so confident, so full of myself after being on a roll so far, that I put in so little effort I might as well have single handedly crushed my dreams and threw it into the incinerator. But even if the light at the end of the tunnel grows dim, you still continue believing because you can’t go back anyway.

There’s probably a ton more stuff I should be writing about, like how I finally met Heather after 22 days, how I have been visiting Shuffle too often, too often, too often, how I got my OCBC card which I am excited to use, and how I am actually about to start work. But suddenly I realise all these don’t matter at all. Life is transient, and as much as I would love to sound optimistic and excited about it, it is also temporary and kind of meaningless. Yet that does nothing to change the fact that life is precious, so we should all party away and have one drink too many. (Only applies if you are 19 years young)

I’ll Carry You Home Tonight

Unusually awake at an awkward timing of 6.49am and unable to go back to sleep. Makes me wonder if it has anything to do with the pink sky, or the dubious amounts of alcohol I had 5 hours before. Hm.

“We Are Young” by Fun is looping relentlessly in my head and every fucking time I hear it, I feel invincible and…embarrassingly, I feel like throwing a party that involves too much alcohol and too little talking. The world is a better place when people stop going on and on and on about themselves (or worse, other people) and put their mouths to better use by sipping vodka with lime and cranberry. (MAJOR YUM) Afterall, everything you need to know or hear is probably so much more real, raw and heartfelt after the drinking.

“Give me a second I, I need to get my story straight. My friends are in the bathroom getting higher than the empire state.”

Love this song. We are young! And even if the sky collapses like a giant biscuit that cracked, we’ll probably be the only ones walking away and saying “Wait, did the sky just fall? Or was that just a particularly bad hangover?” We will never be younger than we are at this moment. Hopefully, I will also never be more foolish, reckless, or silly as I am now. Oh wait, I want to be this reckless forever, because for now, I’m on a roll and as much as I sound like a teeny boppy teenager unable to come down from her first Justin Bieber high, I like it.

Remember how I took a completely different stand on clubbing just a few posts ago? Well, you can’t walk in whole and come out half when there wasn’t anything to lose in the first place right?

“And so if by the time the bar closes, and you feel like falling down, I’ll carry you home tonight. :)”