There’s no other way to say this.

I feel alone.

I knew this for quite some time but it was only today, this evening, that a sudden onset of loneliness hit me. Hard. Like a wave to the shore, only tenfold.

I need a friend right this second. I’ve had quite enough of these fair-weathered ones. I need someone who can be here for me 24/7. Where can I get one?

If you’re reading this and have nothing to say, gtfo. I have nothing more to say to you either.

100 things to do before I die.

1. Adopt an animal.
2. Be a bridesmaid.
3. Be a Free Hugs person.
4. Be my own boss.
5. Bungee jump.
6. Camp on a beach.
7. Carve something into a tree.
8. Catch a snowflake.
9. Change someone’s life.
10. Collect enough postcards to fill a wall.
11. Collect enough posters to fill another wall.
12. Cook a meal on my own.
13. Crowd-surf in a concert.
14. Dance in the moonlight.
15. Disrespect an authority figure.
16. Do something nice for 10 strangers. [0/10]
17. Do 5 things out of my comfort zone. [0/5]
18. Donate blood.
19. Dress up for Halloween.
20. Drink 3 cans of beer without passing out.
21. Dye my hair an NSFW colour.
22. Exit a room dramatically.
23. Explore Singapore.
24. Fall in love with someone ridiculously amazing.
25. Find a Things We Forget post-it.
26. Find someone who loves Fall Out Boy as much as I do.
27. Get a tattoo.
28. Get all four members of FOB’s autograph. [0/4]
29. Get perfect vision.
30. Get praised for my writing from someone I don’t know.
31. Get snakebites.
32. Give someone a surprise.
33. Go club-hopping.
34. Go fishing.
35. Go on a legit picnic, with grass and a mat and a picnic basket.
36. Go on a shopping spree.
37. Go on a holiday with my friends.
38. Go to a big music festival.
39. Go to a gig of a band I don’t know.
40. Go to Disneyland. Any Disneyland, I’m not picky.
41. Go to the Botanical Gardens.
42. Go up an actual tree house.
43. Have a conversation with a stranger.
44. Have every Fall Out Boy album. [2/6]
45. Have fairy lights in my room.
46. Have freedom to do what I want.
47. Have my own camera.
48. Have perfect teeth.
49. Jump into a pile of autumn leaves.
50. Kill a cockroach.
51. Kiss in the rain.
52. Know all the different types of coffee.
53. Learn to paint.
54. Learn to play the guitar.
55. Learn to speak Malay.
56. Live on my own/with friends.
57. Live somewhere else besides Singapore.
58. Lose 10 kg. [0/10]
59. Love something/someone unconditionally.
60. Make a mixtape and give it to someone special.
61. Make a time capsule for myself in 5 years’ time.
62. Make a wish on a shooting star.
63. Make my own clothes.
64. Make someone happy.
65. Make 5 new friends. [0/5]
66. Meet Pete Wentz.
67. Organise an event.
68. Own a cat named Fish.
69. Own 50 albums. [13/50]
70. Pretend to be a tourist for a day.
71. Punch someone.
72. Read a Jodi Picoult book.
73. Read the Bible.
74. Read the Harry Potter books. [0/7]
75. Ride a Vespa.
76. See Fall Out Boy again.
77. See Paramore.
78. Sing in the rain.
79. Speak properly.
80. Stand up for myself.
81. Support a worthy cause.
82. Swim in a pond/lake/waterfall.
83. Take up photography.
84. Try shisha.
85. Visit Chicago.
86. Visit London.
87. Visit New York.
88. Visit Paris.
89. Watch a Broadway musical.
90. Watch every single episode of Avatar, preferably in order.
91. Watch the sun rise.
92. Watch the sun set.
93. Wear a tee shirt with my own design.
94. Wear something different.
95. Work as a barista.
96. Work as a waitress.
97. Work on an art project.
98. Write a love letter.
99. Write a story.
100. Write 10 letters to strangers. [0/10]

I’ll try to blog everything. Wish me luck!

They’ll name a city after us.

It was 12.06am when I wrote this.

I am hiding out in my room, typing this out even when I’ve already lost internet connection. The giant pop-out Garfield poster on my wall is flapping annoyingly on its nail with every turn my fan makes. Sean Kingston is on the radio. I’m typing as I go and wondering how long till I lose the passion to write again.

Yesterday, I was on my way home, at the Jurong East station waiting for my train. My phone’s music player was on shuffle and I was continuously pressing the Next button. I didn’t really have a song I wanted to listen to. I guess I drifted off to some level of daydream, because in one instance my eyes were staring at the “_ minutes” screen, and in the next they were locked with someone else’s.

He was skinny. He wore black rimmed glasses. He had dyed brown hair. He was fair, for a malay boy. He didn’t have a traditionally good looking face. But his eyes. I could honestly stare at them forever, if I didn’t realise how potentially awkward the situation was. It was silly. The train ride that followed was full of sneaking glances and dodging looks.

For every person that has written about affinity, many more have silently experienced it. It’s a flurry of feelings. Like a giggly little girl. Silly and childishly hopeful. For that few minutes, you feel like nothing else matters because a stranger walked into your life just like magic. For that short precious moment, you feel like everything is okay. Your troubles are replaced by the idea that someone is looking at you. You fake a nap on the train, deliberate your actions, focus on your phone or your mp3 player just a little too long. And as you hear the call for your station, you get down from your cloud. You realise that you won’t ever see that person again, so you forgo just one more glance.

And just as abruptly as it began, it ended.

Listen to: Us – Regina Spektor

Yes that listen to section is so Alex Evans. So what. That wasn’t a question. Bite me.

Just trying something out.

This poem has no meaning, don’t read into it. But feel free to tell me what you think.

I’m inspired. I conspired
to your demise.
I’ll miss you, but these eyes
they weren’t meant for heartbreak.
Trust me I’ve been there, they blankly stare.
Now this heart, though it breaks
it palpitates.

A foxtrot above my head.

These few days have been boring and filled with imaginary conversations about imaginary situations. I keep putting R’s behind my A’s in ‘imaginary‘ and having to backspace them away. I don’t quite like backspacing. It means that things people want to say are left unsaid, only viewed by the monitor and no one else. Quite like undelivered letters. Imagine that you wrote a long love letter to someone, wrote the address on the evelope legibly and even remembered to affix a stamp at the top right hand corner. But somehow it got lost in a pile of mail and the mailman never delivered it and there’s nothing you can do about it. Isn’t it sad? Y’know what else is sad? Eating ice cream and not being able to enjoy it. True story. I have so many old movies that I plan to watch when my holidays finally arrive. I’m halfway through re-watching Edward Scissorhands. I’ve watched it once when I was a tiny tot but never quite got the sexual connotations that I get now. Childhood moment ruined. I also want to watch Sixteen Candles, Con Air (for the 235645th time), Interview With A Vampire and a couple more that I can’t recall. I think some photography buffs are pretentious. They just like it because everyone else likes it. Thing is, you can’t tell who are the real enthusiasts and who are in it because it makes them appear indie. Speaking of indie, I think owls are cool. I also think Owl City is amazing but that night when I heard Fireflies on radio was tragic because radio always ruins everything. Except when I hear an old song that I keep skipping on my Windows Media Player, those are the times that radio equates magic. I realise that there are far too many I’s in this post. I should go on more ranting sprees like this.