Tag: urban

You.

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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.

A day of my life

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Extra holidays are frivolous, so one must spend all the time outside with all the other folks who also didn’t work – says no one ever.

I am really thankful for friends who drive and volunteers to pick me up, to indulge in cafes that are out of reach.

We hit Da Paolo for lunch, this nice quiet cafe next to Botanical Gardens. It was no longer quiet after we entered the cafe.

In the typical fashion of me, I over-ordered. I had Carbonara and a large Latte AND an almond croissant (the last one of the day!). I think my brain registers all eating events as – GO BIG OR GO HOME. I usually end up as GO BIG THEN GO HOME.

I love the almond croissant, the crust, the almond, the custard and everything. I secretly wished that I didn’t polish off the carbonara, so that I can enjoy the croissant even more. Alas, the gluttony couldn’t bare to leave the plate alone.

After too much food, we head to Botanical Gardens nearby to (half-heartedly) walk off all the calories. The weather is sinisterly hot, which explains the clear blue skies. Our walk around the park lasted for approximately 20 minutes.  Botanical Gardens is a beautiful place (when not crowded with 19328478924698234 people having picnics), the scenery is very un-Singapore-ish, and is a good place for an evening stroll with your friends. Or perhaps ponder over our mid-life crisis. Or to have conversations with ourselves (but not too loudly because you don’t want people to call the IMH on you).

Because it was a non-peak day, there weren’t any dogs available to stalk pet. There were alot of screeching kids. We saw people in heels and high slit cheongsams.

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Walked over and saw the swans. All 3 of them, feeding on the attention that the crowd gave.

What magnificent birds! squealed one.

I look on with half curiosity and disdain. I hate birds, and they always seem to know that I have this morbid fear of them and charge towards me with malicious intent.

This one in the picture charged towards us with its wing all spread out. SEE! I told you the hatred is mutual!

Not peace-loving, no chill birds. I was looking at the tortoises ok, I wasn’t even standing near you!

I hate birds.

This is such an abrupt end to an otherwise happy post. I re-iterate that I am happy to hang out with my friend, just not too happy about getting chased by birds.

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets in concert

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Almost 21 years since the debut of Harry Potter books.

Almost 16 years since Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets movie.

Yet, all of us sitted there, mostly adults mind you, were still engrossed whilst the orchestra played and accompanied the movie running on the screen. It was as though, we all had a common childhood.

A common magical childhood.

We cheered for our houses. Laughed when Dobby kept trying to save, or rather almost accidentally murdering, Harry Potter. Murmured the lines that we kept close to our hearts from the years of watching the movie.

EAT SLUGS MALFOY.

Mudbloods, Half-bloods, Basilisk, Petrified, Enchanted Cars, Slugs, Moaning Myrtle, Crabbe and Goyle, Wild Bludgers, Heir of Slytherin, Spiders, Aragog, Gilderoy Lockhart, Polyjuice Potion, Duelling Club…

So many familiar terms, familiar faces, familiar sounds.

A whole hall of strangers, bonding together momentarily, because of Harry.

The wise words in the books, which struck me again and again, after all this time. Thank you for moulding me into the person I am.

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Indeed, it is about our choices, which makes us unique.

The magical night, left me light on my steps and hungry for the very next Harry Potter series concert.

Next up, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

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Life. Stories.

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Bangkok, Thailand.

As I ran in through the closing doors of the airport rail, I was greeted by this sight. I sneakily took a picture of this moment.

No matter where I went, the same subway moments strike me again and again. Everyone looks so connected, yet looks so…far, distant and disconnected at the same time. Together and disconnected, so I say.

Somewhere through the journey, I can’t help but wonder, what is on their mind? What is their story?

When I was young, I’ve always wanted the ability to read minds, because I truly believed that everyone of us have a powerful story to share. Behind every smile and tear, there is something that others couldn’t quite fully understand.

I feel you, but I truly don’t feel on the level that you do.

As I grew up, I learnt that the thirst of wanting to knows how others feel or what they are thinking – is called kaypoh. If you put it in better sounding terms, I empathize! But I’ll admit that I am more of the kaypoh type. I love it when people share their stories and feelings with me. More often than not, I would be the silent listener.

I don’t judge (outloud), and I don’t offer advice, because I realize that these 2 things are the things that people need the least when they approach me.

The listening ear indeed.

Sharing of stories, forms a true momentary bond between the speaker and listening. The unmistakable closeness. It is also due to the exact same reason, that, if given a choice, we would speak to strangers instead.

Stripped of the background, names, familiarity, we are nothing more than just humans. Humans with nothing attached to us. We have got nothing to gain, nothing to lose, hence we speak with our hearts and soul.

The easiest and often honest conversations always happens with strangers you just met. That auntie in the coffee shop, the grandma sitting on the benches, the uncle puffing his lung sacs away…

After the conversation, the bond breaks, and you are never to see them again. You carry on with you the wisdom, the lessons behind the conversations, to in turn, create your own.

Life. Stories.