Tuesday, 25 April 2017

The Talk on Health and Diet

Well, this is going to bee a boring blog, if you are reading, but I
thought it is better for me to write it down than to bottle it all up.

I should have started days ago, or even yesterday, but hey, 25 April
2017 is not that bad. So, today, dizziness was ever present, and I
felt very tired. I started off rather breezy in the morning, but that
did not mean no yawns and the general fuzzy brain.

So, fuzzy brain (hardly able to think straight, what more to read or
write anything sensible); then, there is this general tiredness when I
could not seem to breathe properly - well, maybe breathing seems more
like a delayed reaction. On top of it all, constant ache on my left
ankle, and lower abdomen. Oh yes, every time after meal, that pain to
remind me not to be greedy when eating.

Food intake for today:
Breakfast - A slice of cake (6 x 5 x 1.5 cm), 2 biscuits (2.5 x 5 cm),
water, and 3 macadamia nuts.
Lunch - 3 spoons of noodle (curry) with pieces of bean curds, and 1
fishball. 1 biscuit.
Dinner - 2 pieces of fish; some lettuce leaves; some stir-fry jitkua
with tanghoon.

In the course of the day, I managed to sneak in 1 chocolate truffle.

I hope this is not leading towards anorexia.

Thursday, 5 January 2017

Gone Are The Days

Gone are the days when a sandwich makes my day
Gone are the days when a cup of hot chocolate washes the gloom away
And gone are the days when a hearty meal relieves all dismay.

It is now whether to have half or only a quarter
Whether to share or simply none altogether
Or, decide maybe the easiest is never.

Having food becomes an endless dilemma
Meeting up becomes a dreary decision
And hiding away seems the best ever.

It is a constant struggle
A preoccupation of the mind and soul
But, one that should not have taken control.

Thursday, 21 May 2015


A friend asked if I like the word 'smithereens', and I answered, 'I
feel I am it'. Yes, I feel like smithereens - broken into little
pieces. So broken.

I wish I know how long I have to survive life, but I am not doing it
well, for now. And I still have to act as though I am thriving,
sailing through it beautifully. But, I am not. I know all the shoulds
and the should-nots, yet I am still choked by rejections, demotivated
by failures, defeated by criticisms, suffocated by disappointments. I
dare not hope, I dare not think, I dare not plan. No, I dare not

They say, 'lean on God' and I do. But, I want God to take me now. I
have nothing to show Him, and I have nothing to show anyone anymore.
It is bleak, it is blank, and it is...

Who am I? I don't know anymore. Where am I going? I don't know that
either. What I want? I don't have any wants, at least I can't think of
any. Well, except, I want this to end. I am still young, how am I
going to face the years ahead, the unknown and the uncertainty?

Can someone tell me...I guess not. How long more? How long more? How long more?

Thursday, 6 March 2014

Who Am I?

This question is persisting in my mind lately. Who am I really? Why am
I so different and so difficult to deal with?

A colleague has just shared an article on "why Chinese parents do not
say I love you", and my question popped up again. You see, I know my
parents love me, and I do notice those tell-tale signs. Yet, I still
wish they would accept me for the person I am - I mean, the real me.
So what if I prefer sandwiches instead of rice for my regular meals?

I remember very vividly, a friend and I were so overjoyed with the
prospect of visiting UK back in 2008. Our common goal; no rice eating
for the next three weeks! So, did my parents not know about it? The
issue escalated when I returned after a one-year placement in UK. That
was 2010. Well, I rather like having a cuppa and a bowl of cereal with
milk for breakfast. I would like to have my vegetables steamed. And
still prefer sandwiches over rice or noodles. Worse still, I acquired
a British accent, only slight. Now, as a languages enthusiast, I do
believe in speaking English like a native and speaking Mandarin like a
native. The same goes with Malay.

On top of it all, I wanted my independence. Life was so miserable when
I fell into the pit of "dependency". I felt indignant. I became
bitter, I was resentful. How dependent you might ask. Let's see. I
have no control on my own finances (I have no access to my own bank
accounts, and I depend on my parents to withdraw my money), I was
criticised for my dietary preferences, public transportation is far
from my home resulting in me depending on my parents to provide the
transport, and all purchases are done with the help of my parents.

Since the situation could not be improved, I changed. I learned to
accept things for what they are. But, I did "fight" for my basic
right. I got my very own bank account (not joint) after a little
explaining and discussion with the bank manager. (Still no access to
my own bank accounts despite it). Recently, in a discussion, the issue
of my independence came up again. And guess what, my parents retold
the story on how I obtained my own bank account, but in a different

They said the bank manager would not have let me have my way, if it
had not been because I was "verbally fighting" with them. That is the
literal Chinese expression. Now, "verbal fight" would involve raised
voices, harsh words, and angry faces. None of those were present when
I was asking for my individual bank account. How humiliating and

So, with my non-Chinese ways, the tendencies to "fight"and dating a
foreigner, my mother claimed she has lost me. At this point, I do wish
I could be gone, I could disappear. Vanish. Why? Who am I? Must I
continue living as the person others want me to be?

Wednesday, 13 November 2013

Without Words

In this highly visual world, I feel there is no place for word
anymore. Few weeks ago, my GM said she only wants pictures or graphics
which are "right into your face", and declared taglines and writings
are not useful. Sigh. I concluded I am redundant as well as all other

Few days ago, someone commented the newsletter I was volunteering for
has too much information, maybe we could take out all the words for a
particular write-up and "let the photos tell the story". Who is going
to tell me the story then? The photos cannot speak, I am sure.
Besides, the photos tell John one story, then, tell Jane another
because, they were not there and they do not know why the photos were
the way they were.

The failings of words, or "written words" in particular do not end
there. I was told, the fact that I wrote a letter was wrong and
"hurtful". And I thought I was being myself. Since when have I been a
chatterbox? Why does everyone expect me to speak so much? And, why do
they expect me to speak up when I know the result is, they would not

Now, which graphic should I post on Facebook? The image of me
screaming my head off? What should I reply to those reviews on
TripAdvisor? Maybe I could just post a picture of smiling faces so you
interpret it yourself.

I am sure, at many occasions, word has failed me. But in my world,
words have always been my friends - I read the dictionary, I spend
hours reading and looking up new words, I write and write trying to be
creative with my vocabulary, I relish the pronunciations in my mouth
trying to get the right tone and accent and utterance.

I am lost.

Monday, 15 July 2013

The Dreamer's Tears

The tuner is fixing my piano, and from this distance, my piano does
sound very nice. Amazing.

It sounds as though I have made the right hoice. Will my dreams
continue burning? Will I be able to reach those stars?

I wish someone could hear me out and grant me all my dreams come true.

God help me, I pray.

Saturday, 23 March 2013

Making a Come Back

It must have been months and months since I last wrote. Life has
changed. I have changed.

And most probably, you have changed too. At this juncture, I feel like
coming home to this corner of "writing", of expressing my self in the
way I know best. Are you still there? Even if there is only one "you",
it does not matter, because I am writing for myself, and not for

No, not feeling inspired at this very moment but, if I were to start
somewhere, I know I could go anywhere. So, this will b the start and I
hope I will be able to go a long way on this journey this time.

Are you coming along?