•Room•

I moved to a new room recently. It’s not big, but it’s enough for me.

Growing up I’ve always dreamed of having a room of my own. I shared the bedroom with my sister for most of my childhood and teenage years.
We had very different sleeping schedules. She was always the one who goes to bed first. I’d keep the light on and watch Youtube videos till 2am. But she didn’t mind, she was used to it.
My sister is getting bigger and she no longer fits in my childhood bed. My dad says maybe it’s finally time to get rid of this bed set. I didn’t say anything but inside I really didn’t want to. Because me being me, I’m very attached to things that are special to me. The bed is filled with stickers I stick onto when I was little. It’s ugly, but every sticker tells a story. I knew I had to say goodbye to it now or later but I just didn’t want to admit it.

It was very exciting moving to a new room. I can finally decorate it like how I’ve always wanted to; I watched room tour videos to get inspiration; I knew the exact bed sheet I was gonna get. I had this vision of how I wanted it to be. And it is exactly that.

My sister stayed in the old room and every furniture was kept untouched. I liked it that I’m having a new room, but also keeping the childhood room exactly as it was.

Last week, we came back home to something unexpected. Knowing that my sister wants to get rid of the bunk bed so badly, my dad secretly revamped the whole room. For the first time ever, I saw a room without the bunk bed.
It finally hit me that this is not my room anymore, that my childhood room I spent 20 years in is gone. It’ll never feel the same.

I went back to my new room and lay on the bed, picturing everything that was in my old room, reliving the moments when my mum read me bedtime stories, when I couldn’t fall asleep so I looked at the stickers in the dark, when I woke up to music blasting from the CD player… I said goodbye to all these things that’d gone too quickly for me to farewell to in person. Every corner of the room, I’ll remember it just the way it was.

Reunion

Have you ever looked forward to something so much that you almost don’t want that day to come? Because when it does, it will have to end.
One of my best friends is flying over to visit for the holiday. It’s been almost 2 years since we’ve seen each other. Even though we text almost every day, video call every once in a while, I still miss her like crazy. It brings tears to my eyes just rehearsing the reunion in my brain. But it’s not the only thing I rehearse, I also can’t help but think about the ending. It’d be like that night all over again.

26th May 2017.
10:14pm.
We sat across each other inside the cafe on St Catherine street. Knowing that it’d be the last time we’d see each other in a while, we just chatted as usual. Just like the first time we met, we talked about anything and everything. It’s honestly crazy how I’ve only known her for 4 months but it felt like I’ve known her since forever. She added on to my thoughts like they’re hers and finished my sentences when I can’t find the right words.

12:03am.
I looked at my phone and realised that it’s almost time for us to catch the last metro back home. I gazed at her, she knew it too. Suddenly we were both silent. I started reaching for the napkin because I felt them welling up. My chest began to ache and it’s coming up to my throat. Words vomiting out, so were the tears. She looked at me and kept shaking her head. “No no no, you’re gonna come back and we’ll see each other again very soon.” But the flood wasn’t stopping. “I had never had to say goodbye like this before.” She said in her brittle voice. We wiped our tears and laughed about how ridiculous it is that two girls are weeping inside a cafe. But we didn’t care. “It’s ok to cry at midnight.”
–
I’ve looked forward to this day since that night and I still can’t believe we’re meeting again in 2 days. I’m feeling both excited and anxious, but mostly excited. I guess the joy of seeing her again has exceeded the pain of parting, if that’s even possible.
We part to reunite. I guess it’s our thing now.

Paths

I told myself that I’m just not used to this, yet. When I do, it’ll all make sense. I waited, waited and waited.

Or maybe I’ve already gotten used to it. Perhaps this feeling of uncertainty is something I have to deal with?

I read a quote online and it goes, “when I grow older, I realise that no one actually knows what they are doing, everyone is just pretending.” When I was little, it seemed so clear to me what success was. Success, was getting into University, graduating from University and getting a high-paid job. This concept of success was ingrained into my mind because of social expectation. I accepted it, and thought that it’s what I wanted. A lot of people were fooled, including me.

We are pressured to make critical life choices at specific times of life. It makes us think that we are supposed to know exactly what we want at that moment.

She was put into this intersection. There were so many paths to choose from. But the long line behind her kept pushing, so she had to keep pacing, on this route she didn’t know if it’s for her. She kept strolling for a few years. It didn’t feel that bad. There were obstacles along the way but she powered them all through. She ended up in this swan lake. Everyone was cheering for her. She did it. But at this point, she’d had enough time to learn about herself, she figured out which path she wanted. It’s not the swan lake, it’s the snowy mountain. Yet, she was too afraid to admit to herself that she had wasted so much time and effort building this path of her own. Look at this glamorous swan, look at everyone cheering for you, she said to herself, maybe it’s better left this way. So she pretended, she pretended that it’s what she’d always wanted.

She stayed in the lake for the rest of her life. She never got to the mountain, and would never know what beautiful creatures she could find in the mountain.

I’m walking on this path I built. It looks quite flowery and smooth but I can never be so sure. I’m still figuring it out, like everyone else. I will keep searching, even if it means that I have to change route, it’ll still be worth it.
I will walk, walk and walk.

Memory box

It’s 6 mins past 12am. I should be going to bed but I was feeling nostalgic, so I decided to check out my memory box.
This memory box is where I store my precious items, some are more recent, like little gifts/ notes from friends, flight tickets, concert tickets…
Some are from my childhood, little toys, bookmark I got from my primary school teacher, name stamp from kindergarten…
Some are even from before I was born. How that is possible you might ask. ‘Cause my mum is also a highly sentimental person. She keeps a calendar card of my birth year and my hospital wristband when I was born. She one day gave me her pregnancy test of me, but I figured it might not be the best idea to be put into my box (cuz you know). Lol but it’s funny because I realised that this stick is my first ever appearance in this world. It’s such a weird feeling holding that in my hand.
If there’s a fire in my house, the first thing I would grab is this memory box. There’s just so much sentiment in a box. Every item has a story and reminds me of my experience in the past. I could ponder on every item and get lost in my own thoughts.
I was going through everything inside, and stumbled upon this letter from my mum. It’s a letter she wrote me when I turned 15. It makes sense how much I like to express my emotions through words, it’s definitely in the gene.
In the letter, she told the story when she gave birth to me 15 years ago. And oh, how much I sobbed just by reading a couple of lines.
I almost didn’t make it, she said. I had the cord around my neck and I went through such a critical period. I’ve heard about this story before, but something about reading it just makes it so much more real. We all take “being born” for granted do we. As cheesy as it might sound, it’s easy to forget that everyone is a miracle, from the day they were born.
These tangible memories are my reminders. Whenever I’m lost, I look at them, and remind myself where I came from and how I got here. Looking back in the past somehow gives me motivation to push forward. I need that once in a while.

Dreamer & Realist

I was having a video chat with friends the other day and we were talking about jobs. One of them told us that he goes to University because he wants to get a high-paid job. He doesn’t care about what job it is as long as he earns a decent amount of money. Once there is money, he can spend it on achieving his dreams, for it travelling around the world, buying a big house or owning a car. It is pointless for people to pursue a career that doesn’t earn much because ultimately what makes their dreams come true is always money, he said.
As much as I love this friend and respect his opinions, “But you spend the majority of your time working. You have to do something you love.” I said. My friends in the chat seemed to agree with me.
I’m not a 100% dreamer, but I’m definitely more of a dreamer than a realist. My views don’t sync with dreamers’ completely and I find it difficult to chat with realists about the future.
I allow myself to set visions instead of goals and keep my options open. I guess I’m afraid to set realistic goals because I don’t want to possibly get my hopes up for nothing. So before graduation, every time someone asks me about my future plan, I answer, “I don’t know exactly what it is, but I know my direction.” I know it’s vague but I mean, who has a concrete plan really? As if everything is under our control? It’s always about luck, and opportunities. No matter how hard one tries, if the universe decides it’s not your time yet, you can’t do anything about it but to compromise, and hope for the future. It’s part of life.

My first tandem skydiving experience

It was a chilly morning. I had to wake up before sunrise to prepare myself for the jump. The skydive shuttle picked me up from my apartment. On my ride there, I was feeling extremely calm. I guess the fact that I’m going to jump off a plane hadn’t quite sunk in. There were a few other skydivers on the shuttle so it was comforting to know that I wasn’t doing it all alone. 

I had to wait for about an hour before the jump but I was chatting with a new met friend the whole time which really diverted my mind from freaking out. After a bit of a hustle, we were back on that shuttle. It took us to the airport, where we were going to take the aircraft. 

When the aircraft took off, I didn’t feel much inside, zero fear. I told myself— ok, this really is happening.

Panic started to kick in when the first skydiver opened the aircraft window. I felt the wind rushing in, the tension started to build up. Knowing that I was the second one to take the leap, I tried to settle the unease that’s accumulating inside me. I witnessed the skydivers jump off and disappear out of sight like the wind. 

Before I knew it, I was nudged to the edge of the plane by my instructor. I had a split second to look out upon mother earth before leaning my head back. It’s the most beautiful sight I’d ever beholden. My mind was empty at that time. The instructor did a little push and we were out of the plane. The first few seconds were a blur since my senses were overloaded. At 120mph, the strong wind brushed through my face and the rush of air made such a loud noise, yet I felt utterly peaceful. It didn’t feel like falling at all, it felt like floating, more precisely, flying. I couldn’t contain my excitement and kept screaming “I’m flying!”. This is what flying feels like, this is the state of total freedom.

After 45 seconds of freefall, my instructor launched the parachute and began the glide to the beach. Those few minutes were when I could capture everything that’s beneath me—the clear coastline, tiny houses, moving cars and long road… It’s so surreal that I’m looking at them from above. My mind was serene as the wind took us back to the landing zone. 

This skydive experience has a special meaning to me because it’s a little ceremony to celebrate my graduation of university and my new chapter of life. Skydiving had always been in my bucket list and I thought now is the perfect time to do it. And I’m so glad that I did. If you’re considering doing skydiving, I’d totally encourage you to just do it. I know, I know the idea of jumping off a plane is crazy. But I promise you, this is going to be one of the most incredible moments in your life. It sure is mine. 

Writing on a plane

I’m around 30000 feet above the earth and I feel like writing something. Today the sky is extra blue. The clouds beneath me form a marshmallow sea. 

Flight to me is a therapeutic activity, something I look forward to. I never find flying stressful, even the long rides, I thoroughly enjoy them. It’s a solitary time, with no internet distraction, just me, the sky, and probably some music plugged my ears. I like sitting by myself beside the window, reflect on things while admiring the beautiful clouds in the thin air. It’s a good time to bring out the introspective side of me.

The sky makes me ponder, it makes me miss places, miss people. It is the only thing that looks the same wherever I am. When I’m homesick on a foreign land, it reminds me of home. When I miss a place I visited, it reminds me of my friends. It gives me all these emotions that I don’t even know they existed.

It shows me how big the world is, and reminds me of the triviality of my own problems. 

Flying itself is a miracle. How crazy would it be for the Wright brothers to tell the world that they wanted to invent something that would make human fly. How many people would think that they had gone mad. How many attempts they had done to make the first plane fly. I guess people are so used to flying that they sometimes forget how magnificently incredible it is.

Somewhere

Somewhere

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Another sunshiny afternoon

Determined for the challenges on the way

yet my mind is still longing 

for somewhere to stay

Hoping to feel it again

I look up to the marshmallow sky

To the only place that gives me imagination of the wonder 

of this universe

Absorb all the energy it has given me 

the signals it is sending 

as if it is responding 

that it is going to be fine

Though it seems far to reach

at least I know it is never a solitary journey

for the universe is always listening

to the screaming of my soul

My guardian angel

My guardian angel

---

In my memory, he is always smiling big. 

He spoiled me so much that my parents would try to stop him. He showed me all of his affection by his actions. Men aren’t really expressive sometimes, just like my dad. But I can feel their love just as same as they are saying it to me by words. 

He was the most selfless person I know. He used to visit me every day when I was in kindergarten. My parents had to work so they hired a domestic helper to look after me. Despite that, he still insisted on coming all the way from the south side to the north side of the city to visit me every morning. It’s like around 3 hours of travelling back and forth. I don’t remember a whole lot about that period of my childhood but I remember he would just sit on the ground, play with me and listen to me ramble. 

One piece of memory that I could never forget, is when he took me out to the mall and bought me a hello kitty badge maker, a toy that I had dreamed of owning. I remember being super anxious about my parents finding out that he “had done it” again. It’s not like my parents didn’t want him to get me anything, it’s just that they were afraid I would get used to not having to earn my reward by being a behaved kid. But at that time, the innocent me was like, wow, he took the risk again for me, he is my hero.

In his late years, also my middle school years, our family visited him every Saturday. I remember sitting by his bed and he would tell me all these things about being a good person. I kept nodding and didn’t respond, partly because I didn’t want him to notice the tears in my eyes, partly because I was afraid that I would start crying if I spoke anything. 

I still think about him a lot. 

My friends keep saying that I’m a lucky person, that always gets good things, meets nice people and encounters miracles. To me, that’s not luck. I know that there is a guardian angel watching over me, guiding me the way, and making me path. And I’m certain that, it’s him. 

Thank you, grandpa, I hope I make you proud.

Life of happy

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• intimate heart-to-heart talk

• long letters 

• my parents’ food

• tight hugs

• the feeling of looking forward to something

• the smell of parchment

• Christmas

• messages from people you love

• a copy of your friend’s favourite book

• bath & music

• cloudy blue sky