Ctrl+Z. Ctrl+Me.

"Just living is not enough", said the butterfly, "one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower."
— Hans Christian Andersen.

For the longest time.

"Quiet is peace. Tranquility. Quiet is turning down the volume knob on life. Silence is pushing the off button. Shutting it down. All of it."

— Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner


An adventure began, one that I was to walk on my own. It was a strange feeling initially, but I began to get the hang of it.

I began to brace the strangeness as everything fell into place some how. As I made my way through the heart of Singapore, walking from Orchard to Dhoby Ghout to Raffles Place to Chinatown to City Hall to Marina Bay Sands to Gardens by the Bay and back to City Hall, it seems as though my journey around the country has instigated the independence within me to emerge. Overcoming the anxiety of crowds is one thing, eating alone at Satay by the Bay was terrifying yet so fulfilling (pun slightly intended).

Going phone-free for a couple of days—away from the little red dot—and finally having time to work on my book while basking under the sun, the breather never felt so good. Coming back from the mini-getaway as I prepare myself for more getaways—almost forgetting that I am unemployed—it felt almost courageous to take a free Ah Long tote bag from a random police officer giving them out at a mall while I was out grabbing lunch. Not to mention, the recent adventures and mini-escapades to one of my favourite places in the world—the library, where I end up carrying a stack of books, maxed out the borrow limit and walk around—almost desperately—going to the supermarket to get chocolate, heading down to Starbucks to grab tea latte, and even responding to the most random and ridiculous small chat with the guy over the counter.

Taking steps out to be more exposed to the world, it is a leap of faith. While faith remains an imperceptible notion, the surge towards independence allowed for an awakening. This perhaps marked the start of baking a tough, inedible cookie, and the end of staring into the oven and watching the end-result of a cookie crumble—otherwise self-conceptualised as moving beyond the impenetrable state—and this marks a fresh start.


Sometimes it gets hard to understand the functionality of things. The strangeness in everything—ranging from the physical attributes on surface level as observed by the naked eye to the underlying emotional aspects that can be well masked by pretense of non-existence.

Feeding Lies.
"I'm fine", "I'm okay", or "it's alright" are commonly used as a net of safety in the recluse of feelings—to name a few stereotypical and overly used phrases to depict nonchalance and the perception onto others about just being neutral and cool about everything among the strangeness.

Induced Conviction.
The false accusations, unnecessary allegations, and undeserving blames placed upon the fragile heart and the ruptured mind begin to cause a tsunami of emotions that are hidden behind the facade of blame that eventually becomes self-induced and perhaps even factual at some point due to the self-convincing. It is only then that the brain resigns to the fate that it is weak.

That fateful feeling of being undermined and placed under tremendous stress of suffocating when the tiny boat heading towards the island of survival—where food,water, fire, and shelter are evidently seen as a glimmer of hope to life—capsizes and faith seems to be treading on the water; it could be a mirage of miracles. The water would not so easily part for a smooth-sailing pathway to make the walk towards shore one that is easier to conquer; it could be an illusion of hope. Perhaps the island could even have nothing, and everything begins from scratch where bicycles are made with no handle bars and jokes could be started—where the joke stems from within—and at the end of the day, it would all be so glorious that all might hail that humility as a king among the servents of barely surving living things still screaming and waving for some form of asphyxiated rescue.

Save a life buoy.
It would be much better to sink along with the boat that has overturned while the obvious states that no one in the boat could possibly survive nor be saved. There would no longer be a purpose to keep the rest from drowning if all companionship would be lost upon grabbing the drift wood and kicking in the direction of shore.


I wouldn't swim to shore if there wasn't a rose there.
I'm a hopeless romantic who would take the blame anytime.

Yet, the irony is how I would choose 99 red balloons over roses.
Yet, without volunteering, it's my fault and I have to take the blame.

It is my fault, always.

I'm fine.
I don't know what better way to describe emotions any longer, it's beyond a writer's block because I lost my ability to express myself in third-person perspective for once.

I'm okay.
Life got to keep moving on and I can no longer let my feelings cloud my decisions nor take away my conviction in life. I don't need pity or sympathy because I lost faith in companionship.

It's alright.
I suppose I'm not needed here and I don't know where I'll be. I only know that it has reached such a state because I wasn't meant to belong to this world, anyone, or simple—here.

Maybe I was never meant to be found.


没结果 仍回味至死

谁能及我惊天动地 连流泪都觉妩媚
上辈子一早约你 今生重逢之地
谁人为我精彩预备 最痛的相爱别离
下辈子找得到你 思忆如棉絮飞



You're staring like you want me.
I can feel your eyes.
So go tell your friends goodbye.
We can make our way outside.

Please don't do anything stupid that you'll regret, Mel.
Keep your heart intact and your mind at peace.


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