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.

Ashes To Dust

Coughing with a lozenge in your mouth is a bad idea. Tilting your backward to cough with a lozenge in your mouth is a worse idea. The slippery bugger keeps trying to make its way into the back of your throat and nestle in the depths of your esophagus. Not a good idea. Then again, coughing alone is a terrible idea itself.

In spite of the cough, the dizziness from wearing coloured contacts and it being another Tuesday at work, I am in high spirits. Perhaps it is due to the seventh lozenge I am consuming this delightful morning (in addition to the 7 tablespoonfuls of cough syrup I had after breakfast) that is making me a little lightheaded and ridiculously easily tickled by everything my colleague is saying, or perhaps it is due to the fact that I have come to terms with what seems like my biggest fear in my dramatic teenage life – losing people.

Just this morning while on my way to work, I was autopiloting, watching the trees morph into a huddled mess outside the car window and lamenting about how lucky my pet rabbit was while my conscious mind thought of the friends I used to have, and those I now have left. There are about a million and four ways how people can vanish from your lives. Some, you can pinpoint the exact moment you knew they were slipping away through the gaps between your fingers. Others just happen to vanish, like how you know you remembered your dream just seconds before, yet you have zero recollection of it the next.

I choose to believe that its no one’s fault. That when tea dates which used to last hours, filled with the sounds of clinking teacups, our boisterous laughter and incessant chatter are now empty staring sessions where we try to color the silent void with meaningless bits of information which we already know. “So…how’s the army?” “Same old same old, we had physical training yesterday and I almost died running. Improving though, I am now inching my way to Silver instead of a Fail.” “Yeah, I knew that you told me the last time we met remember?” “…Oh yeah.” “…”But I guess awkward tea sessions are way better than no awkward tea sessions because we’re both still trying right? As much as a cup of Earl Grey and a few butter cookies isn’t going to transform our relationship back into its old comfortable state, it means we both miss us. And perhaps that’s the best funeral for a friendship that is slowly fading away.

I am still using the bottle you gave me for my last birthday, the one you hand drew my crazy ass smiling face and my Chinese surname on it. I still open our group conversation every day and regret the times I muted the updates. I still have the friendship band we bought together on our night coffee dates of Caramel Ice Blend from Coffee Bean. I still keep all of you in my heart and as much as I would like to try to mend what seems like cracks in our relationships, sometimes things are better this way. People are more likely to be careful when they handle delicate things, they make sure they don’t make a wrong move, one wrong step. They make sure they don’t tilt their heads back to cough when they have a lozenge in their mouth, for fear friendship slips away like that slippery candy down their throats and into nothingness.

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)

Want You Back For Good

Shanghai 2011

Too lazy to think of a title, so almost all my blog posts bear the lyrics of a song I’m currently listening to. This time, it happened to be Back for Good by Take that, but I am obviously listening to the Boyce Avenue cover of the song. I have a feeling I’m turning into a fangirl soon.

I used to take real photos, like real real photos. Not the kind taken by the crappy camera on my crappy phone, but the kind where I spend 5 minutes thinking, 6 minutes adjusting and 7 minutes reviewing until I manage to capture the perfect shot of the subject. Perhaps when life is constantly spiralling out of control, you just don’t have the kind of time to carry around a bulky camera waiting for the perfect lighting, perfect subject and perfect backdrop for the perfect picture. But then again, there’s no such thing as perfect right? If there was one thing I’ve learnt from photography, its that  the best pictures hide in the most unlikely of situations. So you should always be ready. Another reason to add “Take more photos with Dorothy” on my New Year’s list of resolutions.

Today, the four of us got so bored of staring at each other after three consecutive days of meeting up. It made me wonder if I would be able to spend the rest of my life with the same person without being tired of the curve of their brow, or the depth of their eyes. Would I be able to sleep next to the same person without tiring of their scent or the angle of their spoon? Perhaps boredom is what drives lovers away from each other into the arms of strangers. But if we could all just stick to the boredom a little longer, we might be surprised to find that at the end of the boredom lies familiarity, which is what all homes are built upon.