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Somewhere along the line, we laughed loud once, cried hard once, put on the unfazed mask once. And we swore that once was good enough.

Somewhere down the line, we finally realized despite the beautiful, the awe, the calm, we are also surrounded by shrouds of things we cannot fathom, words we never meant and countless takes on life we regretted.

Once was never enough apparently.


* * *

It was a patchwork of dreams with fragments of faces swirling all over the fringes of the unconscious. So wondrous the creation of the mind and all I remembered were those chocolate covered beans. You were standing beside and I could almost smell you like I smell them coffee beans. But why does the face slips my memory every time? As if I'm not suppose to remember you. As if you weren't suppose to be there. There and again, all whom walked beside me all fade like they never existed. It's unfair that all of you tempt me with the unpublished memoirs and make me forget what I had once remembered, once upheld, once wanted.

Trying so hard to hold you in a blink of an eye and yet when the morning intrudes, you excused yourself nonchalantly. I am left to savour what bits and pieces of that dream salvaged. At 23 and still clinging onto the abstractness of a thought. And for sometime now that line between your world and mind has long blurred. And when that line is rubbed away finally, I don't think I'll exist anymore.

The chocolate covered beans waft away and I stood where the sun meets the horizon. And I remember your words, I remember your shaded figure by the water.

Find the water jasmine in the River Morales, you said...


My adventure in wonderland begins with a trip down wakeful nights counting the glow-in-the-dark stars above my laptop station, numerous check on time on my handphone, texting exclamation of frust to my self-proclaimed shrink, scavenging food in the kitchen at ungodly hours in the morning, watching fringe till I run out of episodes and playing various plots in my head and blogging of course.

No. I don't think I'm crazy yet. And no, I wasn't waiting for Brazil to enter the stadium nor was I busy studying. I'm just wondering if there is something I should be wondering about.

*Hmmms*


lovely how google have a library of images to express your thoughts



I love telling stories in pictures. It's easier to register.



And I'm not on coffee. Although I know many who are an addict. Coffee is my sedative really. But I do not wish to try out that theory in my state as it is


One of my favourite depiction. If I have enough talent, I definitely would have love living the life of a painter. Surrealist.

*Are we there yet?*


Come come paradise
You hide too long.
We've took a ride in turbulence
And we still take it together.

Laugh laugh enterprise
You sulked too long
In puckered lips and sagged cheeks
Do you not tire so?

Whisper whisper surprise
Into my ears and unto my eyes
Let Night washes Day
And make way for Dawn.


Everybody's asleep. Wake them wake them! It's not right! It doesn't feel right. Something or somebody watches on maliciously. I know they are. With relief, they woke and move. We should get out of here. Searches frantically for the exit. Where is that goddamn exit?! Damnit. Kitchen. We are at the kitchen. Knives. Why am I seeing knives everywhere? The counter top, the island, the drawers. All gleaming and menacing. The metallic taste in the air and the drying mouth. Just grab two of them. How to hide it? Paper, I would need paper to wrap it in.One for Dad and one for me. What about the rest? *Screams for somewhere in the room!*


Too late. Let's go people! Follow me! To the north-east side of the house. North east north east north east. Why north east? Is that the exit? How did I know? Who told me? Fuck it. Just head north-east. Shit. Two guards. Kill them kill them. Dead. Good. Where's everyone? Tch. Where is that door? No door! I'm cornered! She's coming. I can feel her presence. The sneer on her mouth. Her reedy fingers wrapped around my throat. The rice jar! It's big enough and it's behind the pantry cupboard. Oh good. A green cloth. I'll just hide till the police come. They are bound to come, right? Knives, better keep them close.

Tighten grip on the knives. Breathe in breathe out breathe in breathe out. She arrives. "Hmmm, where is she?" The hand reaches out and touch my head, covered by the green cloth. I felt myself shrunk away deeper into the rice jar. She smile. "Gotcha". Die. Gotta get out of here. Pushes away the cloth. Stood up. She 's standing opposite and another of her man is blocking my escape route. Bastard. Can't defence. Only offence. Arggh! Lunges forward and stabbed her hand. It felt good. And she didn't retaliate. Why?? Digs knife under her skin again and again, severing all her hands and legs tendons. Now you can't move bitch! But she's smiling. Why is she smiling?? Something's wrong. It's a trap. Why hasn't anyone attack me? WHY?

And I woke. It was already 2 and I'm late for class. The familiar faces which appears in my dream?

Daniel Wong, Hui Jean, Lih En, Ikhwan, Adrian, Yin and family, My family, my sixth aunt family.

What am I eradicating off my mind?

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