Enough is enough.

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Oh, look (at my half hearted attempt to atleast put up a visual on my blog post)! That shot of the ong-lai came in handy afterall, just when I needed it the most.

I’ve been in a slump recently. I didn’t take much photos, didn’t edit photos, didn’t do this, didn’t do that.

I should just rename myself, Miss Didn’t-do.

The day finally came when I don’t have any pictures to update the blog with (which by the way, is the perfect excuse to not update blog).

I miss the me, who’s driven by passion. The me now is driven by sleep – if I embark on this, would I have less sleep? If yes, skip. If no, monitor, it could still very jeopardize my sleep in the long run.

Yes, judge if you must. Like any other human-being who is now stuck in the rat race, sleep is for the utmost important to me. I’m being very self-centric right here, there I’ve said it, stop hounding me over it. I became someone who is very focused on just getting by day to day.

Alarm rings, wake up, bathe, breakfast, work, home, dinner, sleep, repeat.

I am your average city-dweller, who just wants the week to get through, so I can finally end the reign of the alarm clock on weekends. I am comfortable, everything is on auto-pilot mode.

Alls good, no?

Then on Friday, when I finally did sit down and watch a video. And it left me thinking, am I truly living? (cues existential crisis music)

I repeated his speech twice. There’s many brilliant souls that he mentioned. But the one thing he hoped for everyone of his friends present in the hall, struck me. Indeed, facing darkness with dignity.

Forget about long term dreams. Let us be passionately dedicated to the pursuit of short term goals, Micro-ambitious.

Work with passion and pride of what is infront of us.

We don’t know where we might end up, or when it might end up.

There you have it, Jake Bailey handled life after death with grace, dignity and wisdom. Death, reminds each and every one of us, that our time on this planet is finite. To some, death is but a rude awakening, or a legit excuse to further spiral down the abyss.

We are all so engrossed with setting long term goals, and work fiercely towards it. That we left out the minor progresses that deserves a celebration. Because in our own eyes, we are never enough, we are never adequate as compared to the brilliant souls who walked before us.

We are never enough.

The video is a timely reminder, that we are enough, if we seek to work with pride and passion.

We are enough.

I am enough.

It is time to ditch our worst critics, and enable us to grow at our own time and our own space. Ultimately, as time rolls by, you realize that perhaps, we are all…

anything but ordinary.

On my table

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This afternoon, I took a photo of the pile of books on my table as I scribbled on my notebook.

My current reads:

The Zoo Quest Expeditions by Sir David Attenborough (please insert heart in eyes emoji in your own imagination)

and

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (in Chinese – I’ve gotten this a present last Christmas)

I used to beable to sit down for hours (perhaps that could also aid to explain my larger-than desired butt) and just read. I could read and forget about meals, and be in the zone. But sadly, these days, I’ve been fiddling with my phone more than my books.

My pile of books waiting to be read, waiting to be given life, sits in a lonely pile in a box – neglected, and seemingly abandoned.

The inertia is real, and very scary. The amount of guilt that I felt every time my gaze fell on the box is…

I took f.o.r.e.v.e.r to read through half of the book. The younger me would prolly look at the me now in absolute disgust, appalled at the person I’ve became (eh, sorry la. Adulting sucks, or rather I suck at adulting). I used to polish off books so fast, and concocted all these lovely little mini movies in my head whilst I read.

My attention span is now very very questionable and (somewhat) disappointing.

It’s extraordinary how self-obsessed human beings are. The things that people always go on about is, ‘tell us about us’, ‘tell us about the first human being’. We are so self-obsessed with our own history. There is so much more out there than what connects to us.
– Sir David Attenborough

Shucks. I’m self-obsessed too.

Back to the books!

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Lately, it has been raining.

Sometimes, pouring,

Sometimes, drizzling.

Sometimes, raining cats and dogs and perhaps godzilla.

And the non-stop rain, left a temporary effect on the temperature of our naturally toasty weather. It has been a rather cooling 22-24 degrees celsius for the past few days. It’s like…our entire nation is air-con weather.

Alot others call it sweater weather.

And I? I am just grateful that the weather is cooling after my rashes episode. Cooler weather is gentler on my red rash condition. Less sweat, less rash. Hence, I’ve been walking around in my tees and shorts, much to my amazement and amusement of my relatives – who are all decked in pull-overs, cardigans and….heat tech socks.

But the grey skies…just makes one feel very lazy and unmotivated. The need to curl up in bed covered in warm toasty blankets is real. But the cooling weather, made me wake up earlier than usual, and the dread of sitting on the porcelain throne is very real. Hence I cannot wait for this episode to be over.

Besides, my rash is (mostly) gone.

2018, is off to a really queer start, and I am looking forward to an equally queer journey ahead. As I sit infront of the window, typing out this entry, the sound of the rain drops pitter and pattering gradually fades. The scenery clears up.

Perhaps, it is but time to return to reality.

Hello, 2018.

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Oh hey, it’s 2018.

Whilst many are on the “new year new me” BS, I took a step back and start to wonder, how would I want my 2018 to be?

Because to be perfectly honest, nearly a week into 2018…I still feel very 2017, 2016, 2015…

To me, it feels like any other day.

I don’t feel particularly special, or that I have aged (atleast not visibly – I hope), nor do I feel the fresh hope that a new year brings.

Like any other day, I slept, and I woke up, then I proceed to do the things that I usually do. I sincerely, do not get it, and was rolling my eyes in my mind, when people are asking me what were my new year resolutions.

Resolutions.

That faraway word. That big word, what I loved using when I was much younger, deluding myself at the start of every year that I will follow through with them the entire year (but I never did, not a single one of them have been accomplished). Resolutions.

I simply replied, to exist, to read, and to sleep more.

I know many people have issues with the word exist. It gets them started ALL THE TIME, just like how people who abhors durians react when I shove it in their faces. Existing is important, especially to those who matter to you.

Spend time with yourself, build yourself, love yourself, then love others.

Someone who was once a close friend, once told me – you don’t help others, in hope of the kindness being returned. Help, simply because you want to, not because you need to, or wants good karma. It is simply the heart of wanting to be kind, that makes it precious. It is in us, to choose to be kind.

The similar rule applies to love. Love unconditionally.

2018, I guess, I could learn to love you, and perhaps, myself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Live to eat. Eat to live.

Recently, the weather has been horrible. It rains when I need to get out of bed to go to work, then proceeds to burn me with it’s love when I need to get home.

I am beginning to believe that the weather now follows the lyrics of Katy Perry’s song: You are hot when you’re cold, You are yes when you’re no.

You know I am sick, when I start quoting Katy Perry to describe the weather.

I have been coughing non-stop for 2 weeks, and been suffering from indecisive fever. I miss the sleep, I miss the food.

Above all, I miss all the ice cream that I am now not allowed to have because it triggers my cough.

My cough hates me.

My cough likes to eat congee and soupy stuff, drink hot tea and warm water. Things that I sometimes eat and drink to….y’know…be healthier.

This long battle with cough also made me realize that…I live to eat. I now look at my meals with disdain, and with each bite, I pray that the cough would be gone. So I can down that ice cube laden drink to calm the fire that has been ignited with the amount of hot food and drinks I’ve been drowning in the past weeks. (note: I know that this is a run on sentence, but I think that it is needed to justify the amount of desperation in me)

I’ve tried to live vicariously through the food photos that I’ve taken in the past, but I realize that it does nothing but to crave for food more.

Oh, I am not allowed to eat chicken, because it seems to induce phlegm, and I don’t fancy the feeling of being chocked to death by phlegm when I am sleeping.

Many weeks ago, I stuffed my face with food.

  1. BAKCHORMEE

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Bak Chor Mee. Laden with all the meats. Laced with Chilli.

Apparently the trick with all these famous BCM store is to…go at odd timings. No one goes at 4p.m to have dinner. Because it’s too early to have dinner, too late for lunch, too filling to have as tea break.

So I can sit down and have the luxury of having a bowl without a queue.

The Meepok so springy. I like. I want to eat BCM.

I realize that I make a lousy food critic. I have a lack of vocabulary when it comes to describing food. But it’s good! Looking at the picture makes me drool.

*note: I just swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

BCM from Upper thomson, next to Udders.

2. Thai Food

Coconut milk and chicken boiled together as a savory soup. As you can tell, it was good, BUT I WAS VERY CONFUSED. Because it tastes like…bobochacha but savory and with chicken.

I am very easily confused. But I eat food that’s good.

Grilled pork neck is good too! I know the plating looks bad. But who cares because I am there to eat the food and not to eat the plating.

We inhaled a plate of kangkong too. This was post BCM, so it’s enough to tell that the food is damn good, because I will never bother to stuff my face when I am already semi-full.

Let me give you a hint: this is in sunshine plaza, and it’s next to Merely ice-cream place.

Why is this piece of information important?

it brings me to the third food place.

3. Merely Ice-Cream

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I love ice cream. I planned my food route so that I can end up somewhere near a good ice cream place so that I can legitly go “Oh! There’s an ice-cream place nearby! Let’s go get some dessert to wash the dinner down!”

Except that it isn’t coincidental. I planned it. HAHAHAHAHA.

Merely is always very very generous with their ice cream scoops. The two gigantic scoops were mine.

I don’t share ice cream. Blasphemy. Get yours.

Merely is at Sunshine Plaza, please leave me some ice cream thanks.


你说呢 明知你不在 还是会问
空气 却不能代替你 出声
习惯 像永不愈合 的固执伤痕
一思念就撕裂灵魂

也许未来 你会找到 懂你疼你 更好的人
下段旅程 你一定要 更幸福丰盛

只求命运 带你去一段 全新的旅程
往幸福的天涯飞奔
别回头就往前飞奔

请忘了我还 一个人

Curated

Have you ever wondered, how curated everyone’s life is on social media? Not just the celebrities, but your friends, your relatives…

and you.

Are you guilty of curating your life too? Are you guilty of glamouring your photos and captions, so that yours is comparable with others?

Some days, when I tap on the app, and all the different images starts bombarding on the retina of my eyes. Woah, she’s diving! So cool! Wah…he’s in Europe right now – Envy! The food looks so yummy.(Or styled and edited to look so good – edibility each sold seperately.)

Everyone is so unique, and having the time of their life.

What about me? ole me?

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While everyone is out there playing and enjoying (or I presume that they are). I’m actually stuck at home, feeling small and miserable. geeking it out and not feeling apologetic.

I don’t know why are we trained to believe that if we are not out there, doing something new and innovative, hanging out with friends – we are wasting our time moping at home, and that is frowned upon.

Imagine the numerous frowns that I’m about to subject myself to when I declare myself as a homebody. Sure, I have days when I wished that I can travel the globe without a care. Catch the sunrise every morning, without having to consider if I would be late for work. Catch the sunset every evening, preferably not from the windows of my workplace.

Like any other responsible human being on the planet, if you do realize it by now.

I work.

After I work, I’m too pooped to – even meet anyone, form a coherent sentence, hold a somewhat intelligent conversation with anyone.

I just want people to leave me alone.

I digress but now I’m at home, skin spotted with angry looking red rashes from food allergy, as I stared at the itchy inflamed skin, I can’t help but to feel maligned. I didn’t even eat any prawn, how on earth did all these happen. Away and alone, I do what I do best.

I read and I pop bubbles.

Processed with VSCOcam with hb1 presetAccurate caption: I ITCHY. I ANGST.I SQUEEZE DIE DIS BUBBLE.

DSC_5244esAccurate caption: SQUEEEEEEZE! AND POP!

IMG_7250_2esAccurate Caption: I can’t pop bubbles, read, turn pages and take photos at the same time.

I kid.

The Kinfolk Home is a good read for those who are looking to decorate their new home or seeking interior design inspiration. Every home, comes with a story. This is what it should be, because…

Home, is where the heart is.

Oh Bralettes

After that nightmare with bralette, I stopped staring at bralettes. I’m secretly openly bitter over the fact that, I am, perhaps not suitable to wear bralettes. condemned to see all the pretty people indulge in that bralette craze.

I’m in such a mutually exclusive relationship with bralette, that I am literally…lost for words when I saw the Dayre community there caught up in a bralette craze. After clicking on blogs after blogs, it led me to the Mother of Bralettes on Dayre – braintango.

She says the bralettes would fit me and that our sizes are similar.

This sentence was like the rain after a long drought, the oasis in the desert (you get my drift). I got my hands on the padded strappy in both colors.

I literally held my breath when I started to put on the bralette, reminding myself to not to be disappointed if it doesn’t fit. But I guess I’m a worrywart for a good cause…

The bralette slipped on with ease.

It was soooooo comfortable and fit me like a dream (well, to be perfectly honest, I didn’t expect it to fit, so to fit in it – IT WAS ACHEIVEMENT UNLOCK!)

Ok, sold. So I inhaled in new products and releases. Let me tell you what you have been missing out.

The daily staple:

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This is affectionately called the Boob hugger. The material is so soft and smooth! I kept touching the bralette because every woman enjoys a comfortable bra, trust me.  It is comfortable, and provides sufficient support for an entire day of wear.

The Feel Good Wear:

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I don’t even need to describe, you just have to look at the pictures and imagine how good it is.

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Peekaboo lace midi.

Comfortable, but I honestly can’t wear this out, so I wore it at home to feel pretty.

Afterall, to be honest, the most important point about any lingerie, is comfort. Above price point, it is the comfort that we are looking out for. No one will wear a pretty but uncomfortable lingerie and run around for 8-9 hours at work each day. IT JUST DOESN’T CUT IT.

I am glad that after that nightmare episode, I found something suitable for me, and a local business that I am willing to introduce people to.

If you are looking for comfortable bralettes, do go to: ourbraletteclub.com

Good things must share!

 

Of Bralettes

I’ve seen Iskra Lawrence posing in bralettes and reading about her cause for #bodypositivity . Iskra is like my goddess role model. She’s beautiful, smart and above all – confident in her skin.

I’ve been pondering whether I should purchase Aerie’s bralette. I’ve been sitting on it sooooo much, that I didn’t get around to doing it. Maybe the rude discovery of how filmsy a non-lined bralette is, aided in the decision to sit on it longer.

Then came my BKK trip in December 2016. Whilst my cute friend A, ventured into a local lingerie store to buy safety shorts, I went in to take a look as well. I was skeptical of everything I saw in the store, because I knew I was different from the standard thailand girl size, or the standard singaporean size. Past experiences tells me that…I won’t fit into anything here.

Then, something in the far corner caught my eye. It’s a bralette with front straps and IT’S LINED!  AND IT HAS ELASTIC BAND! After enquiring with the owner who confidently told me that I’m able to fit in this, I happily enthusiastically desperately asked for it in 2 different colors, paid and stuffed them in my bag.

Alas! When I got home to try it on. It was a nightmare. It was a struggle to put on the bralette (PLEASE REMEMBER THAT ELASTIC BAND ALSO DO HAVE LIMITS – THERE’S NO INFINITY STRETCH OPTION AVAILABLE). For a good minute I panicked, and I kept thinking what if I got stuck and people who save me will see me stuck precariously in this piece of lingerie. After convincing myself that I would not allow this to happen, I finally gathered my shit and shoved the lingerie in place. That’s right, SHOVED. I stared myself in the mirror and marvelled over the fact that:

  1. WHY SO SMALL AH
  2. SO TIGHT. OH YAS TOO SMALL.
  3. OMG THE TRIANGLES ARE TOO SMALL
  4. MY BOOBS ARE SQUISHED FLAT AND NOW LOOKS LONGITUDINAL
  5. I FEEL STUPID
  6. I KINDA RESEMBLE A BAZHANG (RICE DUMPLING) with all the different lines tying up my meat together

This nightmare did not end here. What has been put on, must be taken off. Wrestling with that piece of lingerie ensues, and I emerged victorious (else i would have appeared on the headlines the next day).

I sneakily banished this lingerie of shame in the dark corner of my closet – never to see the light of the day again.

It was all fine. I lived happily ever after with wired bras – or so I thought.

 

I wonder

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Sometimes, I can’t help but wonder…

Where has time brought me to?

Now as an adult, with far more responsibilities, far more constraints. Am I truly in a place that I enjoy? Or am I in a place that I simply tolerate, because you know, it puts bread on the table. It is nice to have spending money?

As much as it sounds like I’m pointing fingers at time, I’m not.

As a child, I enjoy indulging in creative projects. I take photos on a daily basis, force my poor friends into being my models  my friends are all more than willing to be my free labour whenever crazy ideas struck me deep and hard. I edit photos, admire them.

Dabble in activities that bring me cash for allowance, and I juggle my grades all at the same time.

I was literally doing that work hard, play hard thing that people are buzzing about now.

Look at me now, slouched over the laptop, tapping away at roughly about 3 alphabets per minute (or I imagine it to be so, because 30 minutes felt like foreverrrrrrr). The feeling of doing something because I’m salaried and hence this should take precedence over any creative crazy ideas that I’ve been harbouring in my mind.

My inner dialogue is crazy these days.

Brain: You know, you should get your fingers moving and get that work cleared. You know that the D-day is looming right ahead. LET’S GET STARTED!

also the Brain: But there’s this awesome idea that I have, you know perhaps I could sneak a few product shots for the next hour and go back to the work?

Brain: No, you are paid to do work! So work should get done. 

again, the Brain: But…I don’t feel like doing it! It’s the weekend! Give me a break. Weekends are for fun stuff, and I should’t be typing out work stuff. 

The dialogue went on forever, debating whether I should do work, or should I do something that I like.

Though deep down, I know the solution is to first clear the work and I am free to enjoy in any creative endeavours that I choose to partake.

But no, after I’m done with the imaginary debate with no obvious winner. The clock literally did a sprint,and I wound up having lost 3 hours of my life.  I grapple with the way I’m handling this non-existent not even mid-life crisis, whilst trying very hard not to tear my hair out.

I think, I’m terrible at this adulting business.

Oh why, do I tap on my Instagram and marvel over the many inspirations – Look! She’s so productive! So talented! So amazing!

And wound up feeling small, unaccomplished and perhaps even slightly jealous of the picturesque life of others. ( I know picturesque isn’t used this way, but just let me pleaseeeeee).

Everyone seems to be doing a better job than me! The horrors!

I proceed to convince myself that social media only show the good stuff, and that it is highly curated and chock full of positivity, glitter and pixie dust (all of which I do not possess), and that I shouldn’t be bothered by what I saw, because what presented to me might not be the truth!

Am I doing #positivity right?

Although, I’m extremely rather cynical about where I am with time now. I trust that given time, I will eventually reach where I desire to be.

Oh the oxymoron.

I shall just practice faith then.

Have some faith. (I’m repeating this to anyone, any, who is willing to listen to me)

OH LOOK, I’VE TALENT IN WASTING TIME APPARENTLY.