Thoughts Behind the Wheel

The thoughts of a would-be driver. Welcome to my head. I know that more than one of you would be thankful I’m not licensed yet. Talking to you bro HA.

Concentration concentration. This is a game of concentration. 


They should make a little dent in the head rest of the driver’s seat so that drivers with ponytails can lean back comfortably and not have their heads jutting out like turtles.

Ooo, I’m so good at parking already. Such a boss.

On the crank/S course: Turning…ever so slowly… do not hit the curb do not hit the curb do not do not do not aaaaannnd yesss! Whew, made it out. So elegantly. Never again. (This applies every time I park)

Emergency braking: Ow….Whaddya mean my technique’s wrong??? I stopped the car!

Making a U-turn: This is taking forevaaa, them cars won’t stop cominggg. Oh no, there are cars behind me. Please don’t horn at me please please please IT’S NOT MY FAULT THEY WON’T STOP COMING.

Why are there so many road constructions?

Oh, it’s drizzling. *beat* Which one is the windshield wiper again?

Filtering/Changing lanes: (Pleeaase) let there be no cars. I can do it so well when there aren’t cars. Believe me.

Approaching a traffic light: Please stay green please stay green please stay green.

When a good song comes on: I LOVE THIS SONGGG *floors the gas*


Getting into the car is still my favourite part. Or maybe I just like to do it so suave to show off to my still-underage brother.

Get into the carrr, adjust the seat, strap on the belt. START THE ENGINE (like a boss). Check the road conditions, SHIFT THE GEAR TO ‘D’, RELEASE THE HANDBRAKE AND DRIVE.

You must think me a sad soul to be so turned on by turning on the car. (Ha see what I did there?? Ha ha. Ha. Ok nevermind)


I never noticed how I do a lot of hopeful begging when I drive. Wow. Haha.

Didn’t plan to say this but since I’m here I might as well.

I’m sure I speak for all learner drivers out there when I say: Please be kind and gracious to us! Do remember you were once like me (somewhat…more or less…)

We aren’t as skilful as you are, we’re just trying to get from point A to point B without being hazardous to anyone! Your patience is much appreciated and will be rewarded as responsible future road users!

Thank you thank you thank you.


Goodbye For Now

Writing one of those heartfelt letters without sending them

No, I’m not going anywhere but I just wanted to very deliberately and consciously close a chapter of my life for now.

I think it’s about time enough to move on from here. I’d been mucking about, hoping something would happen, something would change, or that I’d just accept it and float past it, out of it. In fact, the moment this all happened, I already decided that it as a ‘Let go and Let God’ situation. My head knew it. A friend also reminded me when I told her. But I daresay the heart didn’t quite get it just yet.

I honestly thought I did let go. I do trust that He has a plan and that it’s only a matter of time. I thought I could wait, and I have been waiting. But I realised that I could have been wallowing without knowing, and wallowing too long. I did take some time out to grief, and I don’t like it because I wonder all the time if this is the right way to respond, if I’m being vain by feeling hurt.

Now, I know for sure it’s become an unhealthy grief because I got unusually jealous/angry when I saw her hanging out with other people, smiling and having fun when I’m hurt about this and when I don’t think she’s really as happy as she looks. But who am I to say that she’s not allowed to have fun, to find happiness because I’m not happy about this? That’s silly. That’s really really childish of me. I’m not in charge of her. And then I see that maybe I really haven’t let go. I see that maybe my rubbish feelings have gone from being a natural, emotional reaction to fuel for my vanity, my rights and how I’m not reciprocated. I always wonder if there’s something more I can do and then if it doesn’t work out, I go tumbling backwards head-over-heels, almost subconsciously playing some kind of martyr. Which was what I was trying to avoid the whole time.

Continue reading “Goodbye For Now”

Oh So Shakespeare

And so, today marks the day I finish reading through my third Shakespeare play, The Merchant of Venice. Yay me! I just sat and read through the whole thing straight because I was too lazy to find the movie this time. I’d actually watched an adapted version of this play at one of those Shakespeare in the Park things which I thoroughly enjoyed. I had been doing a short stint as a relief teacher some time earlier this year and the students were out to see the play for their Literature class. One of the perks of being a teacher was that I got to go along to watch. It was an experience to sit on the mats and eat and watch the play along with hundreds of students from all across the country. Shakespeare under the stars. It was fun.

Picked this Shakespeare out of many because it’s different from the conventional ones we see. He is actually looking towards the right. I’m such a rebel.

So yes, today I finished the play and I dog-eared a few of my favourite lines from the play along with those from Hamlet and The Tempest.

I’d finished Hamlet two weeks back for class.

It was truly a tragedy.

I realized I never posted my achievement of making it through Hamlet. I’ll do a quick run through on it. I watched the Glenn Close, Helena Bonham Carter version for Hamlet. It annoyingly didn’t have every line in the play but I made it through somehow. It was tragic indeed because so many people died.

Continue reading “Oh So Shakespeare”

A Bit Of Happy

Reality 101: Good stuff happens, to some more than others. Bad stuff happens, to some more than others. Such is life. You’d think I’d have that figured out by now.

Been trawling WordPress again. So many voices of so many people in so many places going through so many things. It’s kind of mind-blowing. Everyone’s just writing and sending out bits of their lives in little glass bottles where it bobs up and down in the sea, waiting for people to pick them up and read.

Some are sad stories. Most are sad stories, actually. Sam supposed that’s because writing is an outlet for some people and they only write when they’re sad. I suppose she’s right. I didn’t want to be those kind of writers but I do get the mentality of therapeutic writing so I get a bit lopsided to writing sad stuff too. Some are hopeful, down-to-earth stories, people trying to find the rainbows in life, trying to be more optimistic than they are now, writing in a bid to recover from something. I didn’t plan for my own bottle to be either very sad or very happy. I don’t want it to be ‘very’ anything. Life has both happy and sad sides, so I want to balance it out, because that’s life anyhow.

If I could choose to be a ‘very’ something though, to blow up one side of life, I would still choose happy. Not because I only want to see and know the good bits of life but to choose joy in the midst of this sad sad world.

Today I thought I’d write on something a little more down to earth compared to the abstract and mostly strange stuff I usually write. Not to say this won’t be strange…muhahaha. Yea, but seriously though, today I wanted to touch on my real life and the happy in it, stuff that touches me.

NO don’t run away because I’m going to talk about my life. It’s not going to be boring! I think. Hopefully.

Continue reading “A Bit Of Happy”

Poor Little Rich Kid

I am so poor.

I’m going through a season in my life where I’m looking into a mirror, a mirror of my soul, and I see so many things I don’t like about myself. Not just the ‘I don’t like’ that it’s there, but flaws, things that shouldn’t be there, some things I didn’t even know were there. If there was a universal standard of a person, I would be on the ‘poor’ end of it.

Yes, I’m feeling like a poor person. Not monetarily but you get what I mean. I can be so mean, petty, insensitive and immature and I look back on myself and just go “Ugh! How could I have even!” literally out loud in my bedroom and promptly club myself with a pillow. And maybe it’s alright for one or two times but when you constantly see it, in different areas of your life, you do wonder how people stand you, and how you can even stand yourself.

Intellectually, spiritually, I know that in a way, it’s good to see your flaws, the failing human flesh. It reminds us to be humble and to lean on God’s strength and goodness because in my weakness He is glorified. He won’t be able to use proud people who think they’ve got it all together. He can only use the ones who are humble enough to accept His grace, the wretched ones who get the extent of what He paid for.

But the feeling of being so poor and so wretched, it’s…not nice. At all. It isn’t nice to see how weak I really am, how I can’t stop myself from doing things I don’t want to do and how I can’t do things I want to.

One thing I don’t like about it is how I see myself hurting people I love. Thankfully, my friends don’t hold anything against me and they’ve more or less forgotten things I may have said/done that may have offended them. But I remember, and when I have a moment of head-bashing with my pillow, I really wonder, “How is she still friends with me?” and I get super humbled, and feel so super blessed and feel so sorry and afraid that I may lose such lovely people in my life.

I have been very, very blessed by the loveliest people I could ever know in this life. I really am. And I feel like I haven’t exactly been appreciating them very much. It’s hard to just come out of the blue and say that I love them so very much, I really do appreciate them and I think they’re wonderful people and that they are so precious to me. And I want to, I want them to know. But I also don’t want them to look at me like a weirdo. I keep visualising that when I do tell them mushy things like that, it’ll be equivalent to those scenarios where you’ve only got 24 hours left to live. I’ll mean every word, not because I’ve only got 24 hours, but because that’s how I really feel. They support me and love me even though I can be such a poor person.

So this is just a little thank you, guys who are reading this. This little blog started out with the hopes of being a private one (except for Irene who had me start it with the very first post on our movie outing hoho) and even after I told the couple of you, I was a little uncomfortable having people who personally knew me read the insides and other sides of my brain. But you’ve all been so supportive of my writings and that means more to me than I show. Here’s a shout out to y’all and just for that element of mystery, you’ve all been renamed here (ahaha privacy issues. Pseudonyms are fun anyways!) so happy guessing!

Continue reading “Poor Little Rich Kid”

Let Us Be Fools Then

I’ve come across this idea more than once, the idea that someone can be ‘forced to believe’ in something, or ‘forced to love’ someone.

That is just ridiculous.

You either believe something or you don’t. You can’t be forced to believe something. You may be brainwashed to accept some things. You can be forced to acknowledge other things. But you can’t be forced to believe something.

If you don’t, you don’t. If you do, no matter how shocking it is, then you do.

To believe that one can be ‘forced to love’ is even stranger and more laughable. You either love or you don’t. If you’ve been forced to love, you probably don’t. You’d probably hate. If you have to be beaten to love, you may obey but that is most definitely not love.

There have been strange circumstances for which people cannot understand why one might believe in something or love someone. “It’s impossible,” they declare. “that someone should believe in this/love this person. They must have been forced to.”

And I look at the said fools who believe and who love wholeheartedly, who don’t feel or think they have been forced, who love sincerely, not out of fear but simply because they love, they do love. It seems to me that no one has forced these happy fools to be joyful or to revel in this love. They aren’t putting on a show for people to prove they are really in love. They’re just living as they are, living in the love and growing in it.

It is the people who are outside of the relationship, who find it impossible to believe that there can be such a love, that try to justify why someone may act the way they do. “Because they have been forced to.”

The fools in love don’t have to prove to anyone else that they are in love, that they are truly joyful where they are at. They are personally happy. They know of such a love and they believe in its truth. They certainly don’t seem ‘forced’ to do anything they don’t want to and indeed, they won’t be forced to do what they won’t. How can one even begin to be ‘forced to love’?

Yet, when they do try to explain that they really are well and not doing what they don’t want to, they get accused as ‘being deluded’ by themselves. “This love is impossible. You are deluding yourselves. You just made it all up to comfort yourself and give yourselves hope.” The crowd sneers.

Why should the crowd know better when they aren’t in the relationship themselves? They wouldn’t understand it from the outside.

You would never understand the fruits of a love which you scorn. You won’t experience the comfort, peace, strength and joy I get because you think I am ‘deluding’ myself. I don’t have to prove to you that I do enjoy these blessings of love, and that I’m not making them up. I’m enjoying them. I know that in all my weakness, I should never have the capability to empower myself by such delusions no matter how strong my imaginations are. There is a limit to me, to all of us. I cannot go past that limit to try to strengthen myself. I am too weak for that. And any hope that I make up for myself, well, how can that be any sort of hope? If you think that true, what do you think am I hoping in? Myself, knowing all my shortcomings? Knowing that I have almost zero control in life? That would be too depressing to be a hope.

I know this love personally. It’s not proven by science or hard facts or anything like that but it is real enough to me. It’s real enough to get me through a harrowing day, to steady me through class presentations, to share a moment of happiness and care with my friends and to comfort me when I failed a test. I can’t explain how real that is. And I don’t have to. I don’t have to convince anyone I’m joyful by my choice of my love and my friend.

If I do share my love, I do not share it to show how impervious I am to life, nor do I share it out of arrogance. I share it because it is good and like any good thing, I would want you to experience it for yourself.

No one can force anyone to love. I love because I was first loved. That’s really all there is to it. And that’s a great thing for me.

If I am the fool in love (and I am a fool in love), a person in love who is labelled a fool by all the intellectuals and all the logical people of this world, then let me be. Let me be the fool.

Mock me or scorn me or pity me. It’s not me who loses out, scorning something I don’t understand. It’s you.

I am the one growing and benefitting from this love, whether you see it or not. I’m the one who has her joy doubled and her sorrows shared. I’m the one who gets to hide under His wings of peace in stormy times. I’m the one who gets comforted in grief. I’m the one who gets strengthened to work.

So let me be a fool. Let me love.

My Dreams are on the Moon

(Takes deep breath. Ok here we go~)

My Dreams are on the Moon,

And with the stars above.

She holds all I hold dear,

My memories, my loves.

Drifting bodies of clouds pass by,

As does time, as does space.

They waft by and mist and blur

Her cold and gentle face.

Her light is missed in day,

When I labor in the sun.

Yet that makes her soft light keen,

When the night falls, when dreams come.

Only then do I dare to fly, to reach,

Through the dark night to orbit,

To wine and dine and waltz with her,

To live in our would-be ever after.

She makes me laugh with child-like wonder.

With her, the world was but an oyster.

But my soul, it mourns her fading smile

Oh, what I’d give, just for a while-

A little while longer, yes, just a little while more,

‘fore I kiss her pale hand, ‘fore I leave the floor.

Alas, her too-soft glow, it cannot hide

The harsh light of life and all that it bides.

I leave her a while, and don’t leave her at all.

Shall I ever pluck her from her lofty skies?

Can I bring her down and make her mine?

How many lifetimes will I get to try?

She waxes and wanes,

in her all-knowing glow,

As does age, as does life,

She won’t be brought low.

My Dreams are on the Moon,

Too high above to catch, to ride.

I formed her, made her glow and spin,

And there command her to reside.

To spread her radiant grace afar,

O, her elusive, delicate beauty!

And if she find it possible,

To hide her pity, mockery of me.

As long as she lives with my dreams,

I content to admire her in mine.

Continue reading “My Dreams are on the Moon”