Tag: conversationswithself

What about love?

thehiamsLeave a comment

I have been reading alot recently, soaking in the world that others depict.

A recurring theme in the stories that I have read is about love – the love between lovers, siblings, parent and child, pets and above all, self.

Some had happy endings, others, not quite. Some depicted love as a struggle, identity crisis, habit, understanding. Not one was identical, but nevertheless, they are beautiful and haunting in their own ways. The experiences shared through beautiful writing reminded me that, no one is truly alone in the struggle, and if you are willing to look beyond, there are others willing to accept you for who you are.

(Even though you think that you can be an unlovable monster most of the time.)

It brings hope and calm during the morning rush commute, starting each day with an inject of fresh hope, that perhaps, this world ain’t so bad and tough after all.

Cotton Candy.

thehiamsLeave a comment

I used to think that clouds are like cotton candies in the skies, and had the ridiculous thought that if I ever took the plane, I can just open the windows and taste the clouds.

It was when I grew up when I realised (after a certain documentary) that it is the perfect recipe for an air disaster. Imagine this little tyrant trying to break the window pane of an aircraft under the pretext of tasting the clouds.

The only thing that made clouds different from cotton candy, in my young mind, was that cloud gets angry then gives us rain! Cotton candy is always happy and disappear if there’s water. I quote my younger sassier self, “Pretty, sweet but also useless kinda cloud.”

I like clouds. They are like our imagination, it can be anything you wish for it to be.

They are like human, charged with emotions. Sometimes, sweet and naive. Sometimes, dark and murderous. Sometimes cheeky, other times nonchalant.

Sometimes, they even disappear without a trace, leaving the blue sky oddly lonely.

I find myself lying on the floor often, looking at the skies, staring at the clouds, willing it to speak to me. Silence, engulfed me, then spat me out, whole.

The wind howling, the skies grey, the clouds dark.

And this, is another story for another day.

You.

thehiamsLeave a comment

Hey you.

Things might be really tough right now, where everyday becomes a challenge, your mind always in a frenzy.

Your mental complains get more and more frequent, to the point where you’re tired of listening to your own complaints. The complaints are like the unnecessary reruns on telly, unrelenting.

The more you listen to the hum of the complaints, the more dishearten you feel. Like you’re struggling against the current, trying to inch towards an imaginary island that you can no longer envision.

It must have been really tiring, haven’t it?

But remember, you’re never alone. You’re well loved. This period might suck, but it will not be sucky forever.

If you don’t learn to let go, you will never learn to float in the sea. If you don’t let go, eventually the amount of exhaustion will drown you.

Perhaps there’s no light at the end of the tunnel, the burst of runs may turn out to be futile…but atleast I tried. Hurt as I may, I can proudly say that I’ve really tried.

Meanwhile, just keep swimming, just keep trying.

Perhaps one day, I’ll see you at the end of the road.

Coffee breaks and in between.

thehiamsLeave a comment

My body clock recognized that it’s time for a caffeine boost, and passed the information down to the cells, rallying them up for a headache.

The mild throbbing at my temples urged me to speed up the pace in seek of caffeine.

The nostrils flared as the smell of caffeine hits its sensors. I made a quick turn to the cafe.

As I stood in front of the cashier, all ready to order cafe latte. My eyes landed on the words – sweet potato latte.

Flood of memories blinded my eyes, and before I can stop myself; I heard my voice speaking up – sweet potato latte please. Hot.

What? No, I meant cafe latte. My mental screams left unheard, as she rang the cashier up and handed me the buzzer.

I held on the to buzzer, inhaling the calming scent of coffee.

Perhaps, this is all but a bad dream.

The buzzer beeped and flashed, reminding me that my dream is up, and my neon purple reality awaits.

As I carried my drink back to a seat, I stared down at the pretty drink. The sweet scent, so familiar and peculiar at the same time.

I held up the cup and took a short sip.

Sweet, like it’s smell. At the very least, it is not deceiving.

Another gulp.

It tastes like fruity pebbles soaked in milk and then strained. Luckily, I like fruity pebbles.

Another gulp.

Silly that I came to a cafe to order a non caffeinated drink.

I watched as the humans walked busily to and fro, rushing towards their destinations. Whilst I lazily grapple with my lack of caffeine induced headache and irritability.

I sat there, silently, observing. Wondering what was going through their minds as they whizzed past where I am seated. What stories will they offer, should I buy them a drink and listen to them talk for an hour?

I wonder if the people who walked past, wondered about what was going through my vacant stares? Are they curious about the strangers they walk past?

Or is it just me, and me alone?

Tick tock. Time’s up, I gulped down the remainder of what used to be a pretty drink, leaving the sweet potato dregs behind.

I stood up hastily, taking one last look at the remains of my coffee break before striding off in an unknown direction.

Curated

thehiamsLeave a comment

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?

DSC_5250es

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

thehiamsLeave a comment

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:

DSC_5197es

DSC_5196esDSC_5195es

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:

DSC_5217esDSC_5188e

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

DSC_5192es

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

thehiamsLeave a comment

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

thehiamsLeave a comment

blog2

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.