Friday, December 28, 2018

12/28/18

I know I sacrificed a part of myself in exchange for the stability of my sanity after I was embroiled in a messy, emotional situation for some time. Half a heart and a half a brain are now missing, scattered somewhere in the ocean far from me. It’s now a dark world in my brain, full of thoughts that can’t see the light of day. Thoughts that have the potential to scare anyone. Thoughts that no one is aware of.

I won’t say that I’m happy with all of the decisions made because it had to be done out of necessity. If I had a choice, I’d take a divergent route as it would’ve lead to a different ending. And perhaps I’d be happier. But it is what it is. I can’t whine. I can only blame the cruel stroke of fate for this. There should be an element of excitement now that I’ve passed all of my courses. Yet I feel numb - there is no sense of merriment. Not even a sense of dread at what is to come. Maybe I haven’t fully grasped the situation or maybe my brain is preoccupied with dark thoughts that I can’t think straight. The fact that I dreamt of a corpse could be indicative of my emotional state of mind.

The dream… I'm exhausted with maintaining appearances because it's causing a personality split in me. I can't assume the role of someone unaffected by the tides of hell when I'm struggling to silence my demons. It's not fun and not healthy either. For half of my life, what people see of me is not who I truly am. But I've done it in such a way that very, very few people could see it. Call it talent. Call it sheer luck. Call it whatever you want, but the truth is those struggles are mine and only for me to deal with.



Things changed the moment the plane landed on Malaysian soil and maneuvered the runway to its dedicated gate of arrival. What has made it worse is the fact that I'm like the odd one out. Reverse culture shock? I don't think so. I've returned often enough to be familiarized myself with the changes and updates surrounding the place. I feel like a vagabond in search of a permanent home where I can lay my sword and finally rest in peace. If you think I mean another beating heart, you're dead wrong, lol. I need to treat and repair myself first before I have enough energy to invest in a relationship with someone. Relationships take a lot of work from both parties; it's not a matter of boy meets girl, both fall in love, and voila. A lot of relationships wouldn't crumble like a deck of cards if it's as easy as it looks.

It’s a surprise that things turned out this way because it was not even in the scope of my original plan. If there’s something in life that I should learn from, it’s to expect and accommodate the unexpected twists. Nothing in life is perfect - because it wouldn’t be called life if things go according to plan.

Look, things changed the moment the plane landed on Malaysian soil. As the pilot navigated the curvy runway and brought the aircraft to a slow stop, my heart turned colder than snow. Inasmuch as I didn't fancy it, I had to be a meaner version of myself after what I experienced when I needed someone at the fragile moments. Oddly enough, I didn't want anyone to accompany me in the silence or even their words of encouragement. What I wanted was someone who would fully empathize and share the burden back then.

The end of the story is that I didn't get what I wanted, which wasn't a surprise. I've eaten enough crap to understand that life isn't all rosy. I just have to expect the unexpected and learn to work around it without losing my brains and spewing angst.

I don't know if all international students returning to their home countries will experience this because we're all unique in our own ways. I feel like I'm the odd one out, unable to blend into either culture. There's something missing at both ends of the spectrum. It makes me think whether I'm a vagabond in search of a permanent home full of peace, devoid of pain. If you think another beating heart would be the answer, you're dead wrong, lol. There are parts of me that needs treating and repairing before a relationship with someone can even take place. I'm not in the position to say much, but relationships require humongous sacrifices and effort from a couple. It's not a matter of boy meets girl, they hit off, and they become boyfriend and girlfriend. If it's as easy as it looks, there wouldn't be a trail of heartbreak.

Spoken like someone who's lived through it, huh.

The year is now coming to an end in a day or two - by the time I manage to complete this post and get it published (since I now have a tendency to procrastinate and delay everything to the last possible minute, especially if it is not work-related). Honestly speaking, it was an emotionally draining year for me to the point where I no longer recognize who I am.

Here’s to hoping that next year would be much better.

Tuesday, December 18, 2018

The Gray Area



Exhaustion is thick in the air
With the memories of someone torn between two worlds.
A story of not belonging,
She's the odd one standing out.

Her smile is fake,
Glued together by weariness.
Her heart is cracked,
Dripping blood in its wake.

The misery she suffers,
The burden she experiences,
All are weighing down her shoulders.
The pain and aches suffocate her.

Her eyes speak of indescribable pain.
Yet no one understands.
Running deep into the forest,
She seeks solace from the silent torture.

Weaving from tree to tree,
Her inner demons are at her heel,
Ready to prance on her
And bring her down - once and for all.

Sunday, December 16, 2018

12/16/18

Now that I've been back for a while, the subtle changes that I've pushed aside are more evident. Maybe not for others, but definitely for me. Favors would not necessarily be returned once it has been given out, regardless of the nature of the relationship between both parties. It also doesn’t matter if it was willingly given or forced out of someone.

It is for that reason that I’ve kept people at arm’s length. I don’t want them to hurt me or flex their muscles at me. It has been more than once that they have proven me right: they are only there to wait for my downfall before laughing at me. I’ve had moments in my life where I’ve experienced such strong disappointment with former friends that I dropped them like hot potatoes.

I’ve also had moments where time and distance have erased the effects of their actions, leaving a faded scar instead. I’ve also had moments where I completely want to be left to my own devices. I’ve also had moments where I want to throw in the towel and take the next flight out of town without a goodbye. If my presence is not recognized by anyone and if there is only more pain for me, why should I stick around?

The things that I have seen and experienced have shaped me into someone who is easily suspicious of everything and everyone around her. I believe this is what you call trust issues. I don’t take words at face value anymore; I prefer to be proven wrong in my assumptions rather than be proven correct that someone or something is bad. Inasmuch as I want to pinpoint it on my major, it is irrelevant to the emotions that I now feel. Otherwise, it doesn’t explain why I was able to feign normalcy and suffer those thoughts alone? I never believe in speaking with anyone (including counsellors) about this because it’s better to deal with it on my own. That’s what I believe is good for myself, but I won’t recommend it, especially if you’re dangerously close to the dark route.

You'll feel more at ease once you're back, they said.

And how do I feel? Nothing’s changed. I feel as cranky and snappy as ever, ready to growl at anyone who blocks my way.

Give it some time, they also said.

How much more time do I need then? I’ve lived half a life on borrowed happiness. I can’t remember when I last felt happy and able to laugh out loud at something. I don’t want to snaffle more happiness from the rightful owners and it’s not fair for either one of us either. They also deserve a shot at finding their own merriment. How much more time do I need before I’m finally and truthfully happy? If the answer is the rest of my life, then I’ll surrender. Life is not worth living in that case; I need something at the end of the tunnel as an encouragement. Yet I don't want to create a cauldron of mess when I'm facing difficulties in dealing with the previous and current ones. It’s not easy to deal with the aftermath; it’s easier to cause problems but tougher to resolve them.

Whether we have received the shorter end of the stick or not, we all have our own battles to fight. I’ve friends who struggle with their demons behind closed doors. I can tell you from my personal experience that it’s depressive and weakening to tackle the inner demons on a daily basis. It is not easy to plaster a smiling face when you feel crap inside. But the signs are still there - it’s just a matter of how well you suppress/hide it. I've done this; I've lied through my teeth that everything is okay when all I want is to explode in anger and turn my bedroom upside down. So, I am aware of the dangers of bottling your emotions with the misbelief that you're best off alone. I won't expect everyone to understand the situation because they are contented with their lives and haven’t been dealt with a terrible deck of cards yet. Suffering and pain don’t exactly exist in their dictionaries.

Maybe that explains why I'm able to comprehend and empathize with their final decisions. When you are pushed to the edge or cornered and unable to crawl out, all you experience is emotional stress and loneliness. You find that living in the dark abyss has more peace. Days and weeks and months later, you can no longer think straight and want to end it all. You don't bat an eyelid when you choose your method; you just want it to be foolproof and effective.

Yet it is only when tragedy strikes that regrets are thrown around like flower petals. Here’s the thing; there’s no point about crying for the dead when all chances of intervening or making a difference have been blown away by the light winds.

Sunday, December 9, 2018

Shipping from ADL to PKG: My Experience

Note: Only those familiar with IATA codes would know the acronyms that I used in the title. Also, since the following is based on my personal experience and interaction with the maritime industry, it might not reflect your situation. 

I never expected that I’ll have to do this, seeing that it was not part of my original plan when I left the country. What happened was the total opposite of what I gauged. After spending four years abroad for my studies, I had no choice but to ship 75% of my personal belongings back home, sigh.

Although I knew a tad bit about the shipping industry, I still fumbled with the process - since I didn't know the right people in Adelaide. I only know one and he's based in Port Klang instead.

Most of the shipping companies/container lines (I've forgotten the correct descriptive word for this) would not handle shipments from individuals, only those from companies due to bad experiences in the past. The next best choice is the freight forwarders. I won't blame you for assuming that freight forwarders would provide an expensive quotation. This is not necessarily true, according to Papa Carrie's former colleague. It all depends on your number of boxes, the overall measurement and weight, and whether it is FCL or LCL (full container load or less than container load).

After going through the right channels, I was given the contact list of freight forwarders in Adelaide. I eventually settled on one that I felt comfortable with. The quotation is based on the overall measurement in cubic meters and the need for a removal specialist/mover, but the person in charge should be able to assist you in converting it from centimeters to cubic meters. What I did was to provide the individual measurements in length x width x height in cm to the freight forwarder. The freight forwarder converted it into cubic meters and included my request for a removal specialist into the estimated quotation.

Once the preliminary matters were settled, I had to deal with the next stage. This was completely foreign to me… and I guess it's not something that most people are familiar with unless they are moving cross country or abroad with their furniture/personal effects. There would be a shipping document that you'd need to fill in after you've accepted the quotation - in which the details for consignee and consignor are needed, the number of boxes to be shipped and the commercial value of the products (if applicable) on top of the overall measurement and weight of the boxes.

I'd suggest that you keep a draft packing list by your side as you go along with packing the boxes. The draft packing list would be beneficial because you’d know what you have packed, in the event that there is a change of plans. Trust me, it happened to me twice. Furthermore, it would be of great assistance when it arrives at the destination. I know this is common sense, but label all of the boxes with numbers and an address label on each one. The freight forwarder would also need the finalized list for Customs declaration and clearance at the departing port (mine was Port Melbourne).

Another tip would be to obtain your quotation well-ahead of time from different freight forwarders and choose the one that you are most comfortable with. You can gather the list by researching on Google or asking family and friends for their contacts. Also, start your packing at least 6 weeks before your intended date of departure. This would save valuable time; I did mine at such a rush that I didn't properly focus on my exam revision. Let's just say that it did affect my final grade for all three courses. No complaints there.

Once the container has sailed from the originating destination, the freight forwarder will send another document to you. It's called the bill of lading and contains important details about your shipment, such as the vessel number and carrier as well as the estimated date of arrival for you.

At the time of this posting, my shipment is on a container with other people's cargoes somewhere and on the way to Port Klang. Based on my understanding of the maritime industry, the consignee would need a local forwarder's service to clear the cargo and deliver it to the intended address. You wouldn't need it if you are familiar with the local laws; just pay the Customs fees and you're able to arrange for the transport accordingly. I'll update this post after my shipment has arrived at my residence and all of the boxes have been unpacked.

The process should be the same worldwide - only the maritime requirements would differ.

Update 17th December 2018: I have spoken to Papa Carrie's former colleague on this and he confirmed the process is the same once the shipment has arrived at the destination. You'll need to appoint a freight forwarder to clear the shipment and organize your own transport from then on. If you have used an international freight forwarder who has worldwide branches, this process is made simpler as you just contact tthe local branch in your destination and take it from there.

Saturday, December 8, 2018

Review of Ibis Styles Grosvenor, North Terrace, Adelaide

Note: The following is based on my personal experience so it might differ for you, my readers. 


As the lease for my apartment and the flight time differed, it didn’t leave me with much choice but to spend the night in a hotel in the city. So, that’s what I did - to save anyone else the trouble of sending me to the airport before sunrise.

The check-in process was easier than expected as I paid for the online reservation in full and in advance. I figured that it would provide me with a peace of mind if I did so. The receptionist would require you to provide a photo ID (either your passport or a driver’s license if you are a tourist from interstate) and the same credit/debit card that you used to make the reservation. Based on what I inquired earlier, there is a 1.3% surcharge for payments made with a credit/debit card. If it is a cash payment, there is a deposit of AUD $50 that the hotel would hold in the event that you break or damage something in the room. The online reviews that I read as part of my research revealed that there is limited elevator access for Ibis Styles hotel rooms and only available for the ones on the 2nd floor. I was worried about this as I didn’t want to lug the heavy luggage, only to climb the stairs to access the assigned room. Walking the alley of Mercury Grosvenor Hotel to reach the access for Ibis Styles was alright with me because what was most important was getting the luggage to the room.


The room wasn’t as cramped as expected when I opened the door. Maybe it’s because it was an overnight stay. Or maybe it’s because I’m used to staying in a smaller-sized hotel room. If there is a glass window and bare necessities (such as a clean, comfortable bed), I’m all good. Although you’d be greeted by a bed and a study table after you enter the room, there is some floor space to move around without bumping into the furniture. With that being said, it is a reasonably-sized room for me but may be too small for other occupants. Facing the bed is a cabinet to hang your clothes and an extra pillow. I searched high and low for the given pair of hotel slippers, but couldn’t find it as I forgot to bring my own from home. Next to the cabinet is the coffee and tea making facilities. There are packets of Nescafe Blend 43 and Dilmah on one side and the water kettle. The fridge is at the bottom while the TV is at the top. I didn’t notice any free bottled water, so I presumed that it was not included in the hotel rate. There is access to purified water in the laundry room for Mercure Hotel guests but never asked if this extended to Ibis Styles guests as well.


The blinds were lowered down as the afternoon progressed into the evening because the room faced other buildings and especially the floor to ceiling windows of a nearby hotel’s lounge area. I didn’t want to run the risk of indecent exposure to the public - which required me to use one of two options: either I switched on the ceiling lights or the lamp on the study table. The ceiling light was rather dim and made me feel even colder than I should, so I relied on the table lamp instead. This came with another benefit; the lamp provided enough warmth for the room to be toasty. A reasonable person in my position would’ve used the heater, but cold air circulated throughout the room instead. It didn’t help that it was a cold, rainy spring evening - and gave me the feeling that I was back in Taipei during their wintry season. I didn’t raise this with the hotel staff as it was an overnight stay and I wore a warm hoodie to sleep.



The important thing that I wanted was the availability of hot water in the toilet, so its size didn’t matter much. I observed that the toilet was smaller than average, but the space constraint was manageable. You’d have to remember to bring your own toothbrush and toothpaste as it is not given. There was only a small bottle of hair shampoo and a bar of soap by the toilet sink when I entered.

My initial plan was to skip the hotel continental breakfast and catch a cup of coffee before my morning flight. As a result of the lengthy delay, I purchased it (AUD $ 20) at the eleventh hour. The coffeehouse was small with access being shared by guests from both hotels so you can imagine the congestion when there are too many people at the same time. If there is not enough space, the guests would be directed to use the seating space at the bar downstairs. You can purchase it in advance, but only through a direct reservation with the hotel before payment. I wouldn't recommend buying it in advance unless you are absolutely confident that you'd be having the hotel breakfast.

The check-out process would be swift, especially if you don't have any outstanding amount with the hotel. You just surrender the key card to the receptionist on duty and an invoice would be printed. When the person in charge discovered that I was flying home to Malaysia, he took the initiative to wish me ‘Selamat Jalan’. (‘Selamat Jalan’ means Bon Voyage or Goodbye in Bahasa Malaysia.)

For the price that I paid (AUD $107), I believe that it was worth the money spent. I didn't need a higher starred hotel for the overnight stay; I just needed a place to crash before the morning flight. The rate warranted the services provided to me, but I can only speak for my own experience.

I guess this would be one of the hotels that I’ll consider if and when I’m having a short visit to Adelaide. It’s due to the accessibility to the tram and train services. Furthermore, it is within walking distance to Rundle Mall and the Royal Adelaide Hospital. The tram route also extends to the Adelaide Botanic Gardens.

Things to Note
  • No free pair of hotel slippers
  • Bottled water isn’t provided, although there is access to filtered water at the laundry room in Mercure
  • No free toothbrush and toothpaste
  • The toilet is compact and small
  • The heating system doesn’t work well as it should
  • Elevator access is only available for the rooms on the 2nd floor. Other floors are accessible by stairs instead
  • Breakfast is NOT provided in the hotel rate. It is charged separately.

Monday, December 3, 2018

12/3/18


Let’s just phrase it in this way.

Although I was aware that I’d have to spend the night in a nearby hotel due to the situation, I wasn’t looking forward to the flight for a couple of reasons. One of which rested with my grades; it would be the second time that I flew out without first knowing whether I passed or failed the entire course. The other rested with my decision to leave. My friends - or at least those who knew about it - were saddened by the piece of news, but all I experienced was apathy.

It is a bit of a shock if you ask me. Yet some of the international students whom I’m acquainted with are in the same boat as me. Whenever we talk about our impending trips back home, we aren’t greeted with a wave of anticipation either.

The years that I’ve spent abroad has stirred something within me. Four years of biannual flights and continual exposure to two different cultures have shaped me into the person that I am today. I no longer retain the personality that I once had. I’m more suspicious than before and don’t take what people tell me at face value, choosing instead to conduct my own research as support or poking holes in their words. It’s not a good sign - as it means that I’ve lost complete trust in everyone and everything. The signs were already there, which helped me to accept what was about to greet me. It was as if the time spent in another country exposed me to things that I had never seen before.

I’m supposed to feel a wave of homecoming and excitement flush through me now that I’m back. What’s flowing through my veins instead is indifference. Surprise, not surprise. Maybe it’s the work of reverse culture shock. Maybe it’s because I’ve experienced so much that I’ve (momentarily) lost the ability to care or empathize. It might make sense, considering the circumstances.

Nothing has changed.

Am I incapable of acculturating to what was once a happier time?

Perhaps I’ve really lost my bearings - and need to collect the pieces I’ve left behind in my wake.

Due to the mishaps that occurred throughout the week leading up to my flight, I spent the night in a nearby hotel. I’ll share my review on my stay in an upcoming post. It’s not that I haven’t done it; it’s just that I’m not in the right frame of mind to complete and publish it. There has been a lot requiring my attention since I landed in the land of tropics - and I’m weighed down by the extent of it.

Experiencing a flight delay wasn’t something that I expected … yet it occurred. I’ve no idea whether it was the result of terrible weather conditions or something else, but it was enough to blow my plans apart. Had I known that there would be a delay, I would’ve headed for a quick coffee instead of heading to the airport earlier than everyone else.

Or bought myself a glass of beer at the Coopers’ airport branch.

As long as it’s something to soothe my growing impatience.

Even being on the phone with the sister for most of the time didn’t alleviate it either.

I was sleep-deprived as I spent an hour tossing and turning after receiving the update of a delay in the wee hours of the morning. This was because I had to rearrange my transport at the receiving airport. I would’ve taken the train or the cab because it’s easier and much more convenient, but Mama Carrie didn’t want me to take the risk since the new arrival time would be closer towards sunset.

Most of the flight passengers had glassy eyes when they spilled into the boarding area. I was only relieved that there was a convenience store for me to make a quick purchase of bottled water and Kit Kat. Although the passengers kept to themselves, you could see that they tried their best to remain calm yet the imaginary smoke blew from their ears. I wouldn’t blame them; it’s not fun dealing with flight delays. One even rested on his cabin luggage on the floor, oblivious to the silent tension of others and tuning everyone out. It wouldn’t surprise me if our moods were soiled when we finally boarded the aircraft some hours later. What was most evident is that cabin crew members were also affected. I don’t know if others saw it, but it felt like the steward whom I spoke to silently seethed at the change of events. Based on what I’ve read, the cabin crew is on shorter notice than passengers as they are required to arrive earlier in preparation of the flight.

By the time I settled into my seat, the anger turned inwards and reflected in my body language. I only realized when the fellow flight passenger broke the silence and asked if everything was alright. He commented that I looked restless… and fed up. So, I elaborated on the situation. We found ourselves deep in a conversation for the next five minutes or so about our differing university degrees and shared courses. To cut a long story short, we are now connected on LinkedIn and might be working in similar fields.

Saturday, November 24, 2018

Don't cry at my departure

Waterfall by the Riverbank

The weeks leading up to the examination period was a torture because it forced me to juggle the task of stripping the residence of my belongings and dealing with the parties involved while revising for Evidence. I have no idea whether I did enough to warrant a bare pass or not. At the time of this post, I am drafting this in an airplane while having a mixture of annoyance and anger after experiencing one of the worst delays of my life. An hour of delay’s fine with me because I understand that there are things out of the air traffic tower’s control, but not when it is an avoidable delay. We were supposed to depart Adelaide at 9.30am ACDT (which is about 7 am Malaysian time), but it was delayed to 12 pm ACDT (9.30 am MYT) before the flight was cleared for take-off at 1 pm ACDT (11.30am MYT). The arrival time was almost four hours behind - not sure how those with connecting flights are able to make it, especially if it is on different airlines.

Ugh, thank heavens I don’t intend on flying anywhere after this for a long, long time.

I’m not sure if I have the right to whine about the indescribable stress that I’ve landed myself and everyone in, regardless of the shipment or my flight. Let’s just say that I haven’t been in the right frame for 75% of the semester. It didn’t help that something out of the ordinary occurred in the same week as the Evidence exam. I don’t want to publicly speak of it because it has a negative connotation it, but it sent shockwaves to those who were there at the wrong time. I highly doubt that I’ll forget it in the snap of the fingers. I don’t think I’m directly affected, but my heart still skips a beat whenever there are similar traces of it. I was lucky in the sense that I have a type of coping mechanism where my body shakes off the effects at a much later time than everyone else. Or maybe I understood the inferences leading up to the event as a lay (not observational, or that would have caused unnecessary hassle) witness and the possible reasons behind it.

On to happier news.

I received the message a couple of days before the exam and while I wasn’t in the mood to entertain any request for catch ups and its equivalent, I forced myself to say yes. Don’t get me wrong; I know that I should be indoors to recharge, but if we don’t meet up for a farewell meal, only God knows when we will meet again. That’s how life works; even though there is a promise to keep in contact, chances of drifting apart would be there. It has happened to me so often that I’m used to it. With that in mind, I agreed to the good friend’s request to meet up (although the delivery man was coming the next day to collect the shipment). I also didn’t want him to spend the money to courier the Christmas/birthday presents all the way to my place back home. He might’ve been willing to have done so, but I didn’t want my parents to misinterpret his sincerity - since I’m somewhat in a sticky situation now.

Each of us endeavored to make the best out of the limited time that we had with each other. Yet there were traces of their sadness influencing their body languages; the signs would be there if you know how and where to look. We started off with lunch at the Malaysian restaurant near our campus. One of the co-owners is our junior in law school. While I don’t know him personally, I’ve seen his name floating around. While the flavors can’t compete with the traditional ones back home, it’s close enough to the ones I’m used to. The meal was followed by an afternoon at the nearby Botanic Gardens, which was the good friend’s suggestion.

Flower wall by the Botanic Gardens

A curved wall of grass

Growing up in a tropical country and spending almost four years in a dry climate, the heat should’ve been bearable, but nope. I was more than ready to throw myself into a freezer or somewhere air-conditioned to cool down. I’m more comfortable with humidity, not heat. Yet we found it in us to capture as many pictures as we possibly could in the Botanic Gardens. After knowing the good friend for some time now, it didn’t surprise me when I saw him focusing on something on his phone. It turned out to be a video and picture of us thinking of ways to climb the tree for a pose. Even if I wore a tracksuit, I’ll never take the risk because I’m not tall or agile enough. We didn’t have any onlookers protesting, which is a relief because the last thing I wanted was for us to be chased out or one of us to sustain a back injury.

I guess I expected the good friend and the sister to sneak in photographs of me whenever they could, which was why I didn’t see that coming. It was a picture of me and the good friend from the back, engaged in a conversation of our own while the sister and her boyfriend were a couple of steps behind us.

The eventual number of pictures was jaw-dropping, but when you have access to a smartphone with the latest technology (not mine, the good friend’s), it should be expected. The very fact that I’m departing should have been a great indicator of what was to come. By the time we left the Botanic Gardens, we were coated in a film of sweat and parched from the heat. I was more than ready to head home to crash after spending an afternoon under the torturous sun - yet there was a final element to our hangout. The good friend suggested to watch a film and left the ball in my court, throwing caution to the wind but not expecting me to decide on ‘A Star is Born’.

It was a 3 to 1 decision to watch the film because it had a romantic flair with a touch of emotions on it. There were moments in the plot when you couldn’t help but be touched by what the characters experienced. Gosh, even though I watched the trailer as a cinema advertisement twice, it never indicated the level of tear-jerking scenes. The finale left us on a somber note - although my eyes shone with tears when Jackson played the beginnings of ‘I’ll Never Love Again’. I had listened to it once or twice a couple of days after the movie’s OST was released on YouTube - and Lady Gaga successfully brought out the emotions that Ally faced as a result of the unexpected circumstances. The main song’s bridge left me with a cold hand on my spine, which illustrates the level of emotions Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga portrayed as Jackson Maine and Ally respectively. In fact, I’m listening to it (‘Shadow’) on repeat as I try not to fall asleep on my keyboard on the plane.

All of us were bone-tired after the movie, but we weren’t ready to say our goodbyes and depart from each other’s company just yet. Because two of us were starving, we headed in the direction of a newly-opened Japanese restaurant on the other end of the street. As the evening drew to an end, we were wrapped in an awkward aura. It finally dawned on us that this is it. There’s no reason to deny the truth any further. Farewell hugs were exchanged and the moment I exchanged an embrace with the good friend, I swear that I felt his heart shattering into pieces. Just a glance into his eyes was enough to make my heart weigh heavier than a boulder. I saw a silent plea beginning me to return to Adelaide some time in the future - if not to stay on for a couple more years. I would’ve done so if things didn’t turn out this way. Yet he summoned everything from the depths of his soul to remain strong in front of us and in public. His shoulders sagged the moment he went in the opposite direction to his bus stop.

Flowers by the Showgrounds

The sister’s eyes swam with tears when it was her turn to bid me adieu - as we’d be separated by distance and sea. The three of us always knew that this day would eventually come yet it was tough to swallow it. I'm someone who doesn't let her truest thoughts show easily, but I know what is going on. If one of us opens the floodgates, it's a chain reaction for the rest. It hit me pretty bad even though I'm not a stranger to departures and farewells. Maybe it's because I've regarded them both as dear to me. They were aware that my situation is a tad bit unique when compared to theirs. Describing it as unique is actually an understatement because it is more complicated than I’ve let on. It was after all a decision that I was forced to make; it wasn’t like I had the best deck of cards or Lady Luck shining her magical wand on me. Trust me, if the latter occurred, the situation would’ve been different and I might’ve found a reason warranting me not to leave.

Although I foresaw this to occur, it was hard to digest. It pained me inasmuch as it did for them. Four years is not a short time - and I basically met them both in the first couple of weeks after the semester commenced. The good friend and I met through a shared class. I arrived in law school earlier to ensure that I found the seminar room and leaned against the wall, waiting for the rest of the students and my tutor to come. I felt a pair of eyes sometime later and looked up to see a grinning youngster, which was the good friend. Being the polite kid that I am, I acknowledged the smile and returned to whatever it was that I did. I’ll never know the reason behind this (and will never ask him), but the moment he entered the room, he chose the seat next to me. As for the sister, I met her during the barbecue event organized by the law school. I can’t remember whether I was queuing with someone else, but I remember my conversation being interrupted by a hyper child (the sister). One thing led to another and we shared classes (or at least the ones for the core courses) for the remaining years.

Sunday, November 11, 2018

我們卻一樣 / Yet we are the same

我曾經夢過妳,
但你不會知道的。
我不打算跟你說。
夢中的妳有一種累的眼神。
是不是妳經歷了太多可悲的生活?
我不知道。
妳的確比我小,
但夢中的妳比我認識的妳更老。
我看妳疲勞;
很需要依靠末人的肩膀,
可是妳快認不出誰是妳真真的朋友。

我懷疑我離開是不是造成妳的傷害。
我逼不得已這樣做。
我不強求妳了解我的選者。
或許妳能體會我過的傷痛。
我相信你開始有想念過我們友情。
要不然,為什麼我會杜然間夢到妳呢?
但時間久了,你也開始習慣。
也許妳會懂我為什麼這樣離開。
默默無聲就飛到另外個一國家。
不怕跟妳坦白,我心其實蠻累。
也開始流血。

我並不開心,
可是所有人誤以為我OK。
但我周圍的朋友不知道。
連妳都不會知道。
在我夢裡面,你眼神有一種累和傷痛。
妳快撐不下, 那我懂。
我早已知道妳明明不開心。
應為妳被人家傷害到,
所以妳勉強不扮好人。
我跟妳一樣咯。
以自己為主。

I’ve dreamt of you before,
But you’ll never know about it.
I’ve no intention to tell you.
In my dream, you had a kind of exhaustion in your expression.
Is it because you have experienced too many sadness?
I’m not sure.
You’re in fact younger than me.
But in the dream, you looked older.
I saw your exhaustion;
You want to rest on someone’s shoulder,
But you can no longer recognize who your true friends are.

I suspect whether my decision to leave caused you pain.
I had no choice but to do so.
I won’t force you to comprehend my decision.
Or maybe you can empathize with the pain I’ve experienced.
I believe you missed our friendship in the beginning.
Otherwise, why did I dream of you suddenly?
But now that time has passed, you are used to my absence.
Maybe you understood why I left in this manner.
Flew to another country without a word.
Truth be told, my heart is weary.
It’s starting to bleed.

I’m not happy,
But everyone thinks I’m okay.
But my friends won’t know it.
Even you won’t.
In my dreams, your eyes glimmered with agony.
I understand that you can no longer hold on.
I knew that you were unhappy from the beginning.
Because you were once hurt by someone,
That’s why you forced yourself to be the worst version of yourself.
I’m the same as you now.
Prioritizing ourselves over others.

Friday, November 9, 2018

11/09/18

I dreamt that I ran into an acquaintance that I knew from O-Week in a place that was similar to our faculty. We agreed to catch up in a coffeehouse that was mutually suitable for us.

The next scene panned to us entering the said cafe and choosing an empty table before we dumped our lunch boxes to order something from the baristas. The layout reminded me of Coffee Bean, especially with the menus printed on the wooden boards above the cashier and the use of a material that resembled oak wood. Yet it was not the ones that I have patronized in my waking life. This particular one had a more open and different vibe to it.

I scanned the menu to see whether my favorite drink was still available or not. When it was my turn to order, there were regular-sized cups of matcha latte waiting at the collection area for their respective owners to collect and enjoy. The barista was about to ask me which size I wanted, so I cleared my throat and replied that a regular size would suit me.

By the time my friend and I returned to our table, our lunch boxes had disappeared and I turned to one of the baristas to ask if she knew what happened. The cleaner stood up and said that she threw it away, thinking that the previous customers of that table didn’t want their food.

Something must be wrong if I have continuous dreams. The acquaintance is indeed someone whom I know in real life and yes, we met during the barbecue event organized by the Union to welcome international students. And yes, we were studying in the same faculty. The reason why I said ‘were’ because he has since graduated and I’m en-route to completion.

Me having a dream about coffeehouse and hanging out with a friend would have two interpretations to it. One is that I’m craving for my Iced Blended Vanilla and Chicago Cheesecake (you guys would know which coffee chain I’m referring to if it’s your favorite haunt), lol. The second is that my subconscious craves for that emotional connection with friends who are understanding of my state of mind.

Thursday, November 8, 2018

Mixture of emotions and life

I dreamt that it was our group’s turn to present to the lecturer and our peers. Instead of the whole tutorial speaking, the two of us were appointed to present our findings to the class and run the show on our own.

We decided to test the raw footage in the meeting room to see if there were any last-minute edits that were needed. There was a row of couches in front of a projector screen and recliners behind. It was devoid of any decorations, but what struck me was the smell of the room. Although it wasn’t offensive, it was pungent and musty - as if the windows weren’t open for a long time. Once we were satisfied that the video was perfect, we headed to the presentation room.

The presentation room was scattered with the batch of students from Evidence, but in a darker place than our lecture theatre. Yet we found ourselves dealing with technical difficulties - even though we tried it with two different computers.

The footage was alright on the computers, but when it came to the actual presentation, it was as if the footage was possessed. Not only was the one on the projector screen being affected, even the one on my Mac was showing signs of rebelling. There was white noise and the words were scrunched up. I stopped the recording while the two of us tried to resolve it without allowing the panic and embarrassment leak onto our faces.

The lecturer entered the room and asked if everything was okay after he saw the reaction from the audience and our panicked body language. I sad that the technology crashed on us for no reason - although we tried it in two different places.

My teammate threw in the towel minutes after a couple of minutes and spoke to the lecturer about starting afresh or coming to a compromise. I apologized to the audience about the sudden change of events.

Okay. This is one of the most realistic dreams I’ve had - because it’s a reflection of what recently transpired. The fact that the computers in the presentation room and the raw footage malfunctioned would be indicative that something in me is exhausted and not working at its best. That’s what the dream interpretation said - ‘You feel as though you can't seem to connect, can't reach him or her, that you keep losing touch. You can't reach someone on an emotional level, or feel that something in your body is not working properly.’

As for the weird smell in the presentation room, since ‘smell is the sense most closely associated with emotional memory — just think about how evocative certain scents can be — and the one most closely tied to mental health and happiness.’ Based on this alone, is it safe to say that my mental health has crashed from the pressure of dealing with a million things? Am I losing traces of happiness and descending straight into that black hole?

Since I had a dream about the lecturer, it has a positive and negative interpretation to it. The positive side is that I’ve a breakthrough to the mess that I now face. The negative aspect is the ‘embarrassing truths or feeling the reality of a situation telling you what to do. Coming to scary or unpleasant conclusions that you realize are true. Feeling terrified that you have to do something differently than you currently are.' If that is the case, it means the line between black and white has been blurred.

The lecturer teaching the course in the dream is a reflection of reality because in my waking life, it is exactly that. I’m not sure if it’s the bi-annual academic anxiety dream or a mixture of the academic pressure and my exhausted brain.

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

11/06/18

I dreamt of my History lecturer having a word with us in the middle of the forest. I don’t remember the context of the outdoor class, but to reward us for our hard work, he would treat us to a meal and organize a field trip for us to take a breather. The caveat was that we each had to pay for our flights. It didn’t bother me much because I wanted an opportunity to get away from everything that I know.

The next scene involved me being spooned by my boyfriend, but I wasn’t in the mood for any physical or intimate contact in that moment and shoved him away from me.

The camera then panned to the scene where my family and I travelled along Section 5 with Papa Carrie being at the wheel. We passed by a temple and a school field. I complained that I was exhausted with everything that has occurred through my academic journey. Mama Carrie echoed her agreement from the backseat as she saw the effects on me. He turned to me and said not to throw in the towel and that the hard work will pay off in soon as the light is at the end of the tunnel.

I’m relieved that the people that was with me in the dream wasn’t the ones I’m acquainted with. That would incur lots of embarrassment, but I’m aware that the common theme of this dream is the desire to relax. Or maybe I’ve the sense that my life is in tatters right now.

As for the car scene, it sounded as if Papa Carrie wanted to give me words of encouragement to continue with life since it's a long journey ahead of me. At this stage of my degree, I've had enough of listening to words of encouragement because it has the opposite effect on me. It doesn't give me the motivation, but rather a sense of continual dislike. In addition, by me dreaming that I'm a passenger is highly indicative that I've given up control of my life's direction and am directly influenced by the actions of others. Another possibility is the fact that I've placed the interests of others before myself, which is true in some ways. I've depleted all of my energy and sacrificed my mental state so that others receive the benefit - and look what good it did for me.

I was a tad bit surprised when I saw the temple, not knowing what it symbolised. The dream interpretation claimed that this meant the level of attention I've been giving to it. Would this mean that my body's starved of the necessary attention it wants? Maybe I've not given enough self care to it. According to the dream interpretation, the alternative definition of seeing the temple means that I desire a place to rest my weary head. I also want to find a place in my heart to bury all the irreplaceable memories.

Monday, November 5, 2018

11/05/18

好奇怪。在我心滿地血的時候,我還能開個玩笑與讓對方開心。可是我卻沒辦法比自己哈哈笑。

連我不曉得自己要什麼啦。我想要的東西,我卻拿不到。離我太遙遠,這些年抹掉我自信。可無所謂;我開朗性格也早已失去。

四年,爭取四年。

三年半,我壓制我情緒.


Even at 4 am, I’m wide awake after finishing the exam guide by hand. I don’t usually take notes by hand, but I noticed that it helps to cement the knowledge and understanding of the content. I know I need it, especially since I’ve screwed myself this semester. The beauty is that I’ve always realised the reason lies with me and it’s a bitter medicine to swallow when I know that I’m better than this.

Four years of biting the tree bark is coming to an end. Four years of suppressing my emotions and feigning perfection has done its damage of altering my state of mind. I’m aware that I should let the ocean waves take me to wherever it wants to, but it’s hard to retain a positive mind when all you see are the bad and the ugly. It somehow alters your perception on everything you thought you know well. One way or another, it’s an uphill battle. I’m not saying that I don’t have what others have because I know friends who would be more than willing to swap positions with me if the opportunity arises. The truth of the matter is that I took a divergent route and am now paying for it. It suits me due to practical reasons, but if you talk about its suitability, it’s not what I wanted.

If it is, why does it feel like I’m losing the battle?

Maybe it’s true; I was never comfortable enough to consider staying back and never gave voice to my thoughts as there is no necessity for it. I’ve had enough of placing others before myself when I’m running on an empty tank. Maybe I never truly fitted in. There’s something missing and I can’t seem to find it. I just want to be left alone and let the broken pieces of me heal - or run the risk of crashing and burning before my time is up. I’m already en-route to that ending as we speak and I don’t fancy the consequences. I know that there are changes as I’m losing the motivation to concentrate and focus. I just want to hide in bed and sleep... since there are no emotions involved when you sleep. No anger. No sadness. Just nothing.

Leaving would be a better choice since there are no reasons warranting me to remain here - and that is something I’m thankful for. I need to dedicate some time in a familiar place for myself. I’ve had enough of plastering a smile and all I want is to punch a wall. Okay, maybe a pillow … since it costs less to replace pillows than to repair walls. I’ve the flexibility to pack my bags and bid adios to this place. Do I regret that one decision? Yes, it was the precursor to the mess I feel now. Would I have chosen another route had I seen it coming? No, but I would’ve approached it with a different lens. Yet a part of me suspects that the disappointment and shock around me are a mere facade to mask their true intentions as they are relieved to see me leave. My light does not burn as brightly as it once did. It has dimmed to the point of being extinguished soon.

The question is … why I’m receiving flashbacks of this residential area somewhere in KL that I have visited as a young girl of maybe 8. There was a beautiful clubhouse that served lovely food. It was also a quiet place that seemed lovely to raise a family - with a water fountain at the entrance, which gave off a rich aura. Could it be a sign that my subconscious wants to return to the stress-free childhood days? A sign that I’ve placed myself under too much stress? Well, it makes sense as my sleeping pattern has gone away. If not for coffee and afternoon naps, I think I suffer from a severe case of sleep deprivation.

Friday, October 26, 2018

10/26/18

I wish that I’m writing this in a fit of anger. At least it would help to soothe the angst that I harbor towards everyone and everything in life now. I’ve always walked the middle path in life since I was a teenager, never choosing to conform to what society wants out of me and look at what benefits it brought me.

I was of a different size when I was younger. Less chubby even. If I have to describe, let’s just say that I was a walking bespectacled broomstick with long, wavy locks that fell below her shoulders. Family friends used to whisper that I needed to gain weight because I was severely underweight, but I didn’t care. I guess that was the initial signs of my rebellion. It was after college prom that I chopped it off and shortened the length. I craved a new start and a new chapter. It is arguable that the events in my life has shaped me in the way that I am because of the lessons and experiences garnered along the way, but what I never expected was the emotional weight left behind.

The line between black and white has blurred into a shade of grey and turned me into someone I no longer recognize. All I see is someone tired of maintaining two roles: someone who is optimistic and her true self. What greets me at the other end of the mirror is a girl who’s tormented by negative emotions (read: anxiety and overthinking) and biting the tree bark but failing to see life’s purpose for her. It is as if she has lost her way in this big, strange world where all the familiarity of sight and smell has evaporated into thin air. The memories that she once held close to her heart are slipping through the cracks of her fingers.

She’s someone who would be there for those in need of help yet she sadly knows that the comfort she desires, no one is able to envelope her with. The kind of comfort she values only exists in the perfect world, not in reality. Or not found in anyone. She knows that those folks whom she has helped before but turned a blind way when she was down in the dumps are laughing in the distance at her expense. She is also aware that this is the result of their achievements and they have conveniently forgotten the belief that life is a two-way street. That’s for sure; life has a funny way of obscuring what is right and wrong. If things have turned out in this unexpected manner, she has no choice but to turn her back. She has no choice but to throw her deck of cards into the campfire and watch it burn to embers before silently leaving without a word of notice. She won’t leave a note informing of her impending destination or where she’ll settle down because she no longer sees the reason to do so. She is in need of the isolation to recuperate from her weakened soul.



Whoever said that you only know who your true friends are during moments of hardship must have experienced tribulations in his or her life before. This quote is relatable for many yet not commonly acknowledged. Yes, I know a lot of people and a handful of them are who I think are my good friends, but no one - and only me - know the agony I’m living with. Imagine being stabbed repeatedly with a knife and unable to scream in pain because you don’t want to be labelled as an attention seeker. (And sadly, this is why there is a lack of awareness surrounding mental illness. It is such a sensitive topic that those suffering from it are embarrassed to openly discuss it because society doesn’t know how to accommodate the imbalance.) Imagine your repeated attempts to suppress your irritability when someone ruffles your feathers. Got the picture? That’s how I feel towards homo sapiens now. So, before you remark about how disrespectful and rude I have become, understand the factors and circumstances that led me to that stage.

I know I’m pushing people away or keeping them at a distance with my irritability, but I’m not apologizing for it whatsoever. Why should I worry whether they’ll be upset with me when I’m running low on fuel? It’s about time that I prioritize my well-being over that of others. There’s no one better than me who knows I’m capable of when my dark side emerges from the hidden depths of my soul…. and I know it’s emerging from its hideout after spending an x number of years in dormancy. It is only when I unleash my fury that people around me learn that I’m not to be messed with, which would be too late for them by then.

When the time comes, I’ll place this blog and all of my social media accounts on the backburner and hide myself in a place where no one can find me. If this is how the deck of cards are handed to me, I’ve had enough of playing it. I’m exhausted by the games life has me played for four and a half years now. I’ve had enough of dealing with double-faced people who have bled me throughout and decided to dispose me like a spoilt rag doll.

Sunday, October 21, 2018

10/21/18

I dreamt that I received news of a murder that was committed in a house. So, me being me, I decided to poke my nose into the matter. I found myself returning to my childhood home. I ran into a schoolgirl the moment I arrived at the district. The schoolgirl confessed that the murder involved my brother and he was alleged to have killed his wife.

The next scene panned to someone’s house porch. It was at a terrace house with a small grassy lawn towards the side. In front of the door was a black-colored car. It was me, the adult version of me, and two children chilling out there. The boy was playing with a girl - both were about five years old the least. The girl decided to offer me a piece of cookie from the container that she brought from home. She said that it was her mother who asked her to bring it to us. One thing that stood out was her hair color. Her hair color was as blonde and shiny as a Goldie’s fur. I sat on the steps that led to the entrance and kept an eye on the two little folks.

An investigative officer for the murder case visited us at the house with updates about the missing person’s case. We were in the midst of a conversation by the gate when someone shouted that there were bones found by the drain. I exchanged a look with him before I saw the reaction in my adult self. Color faded from her face as she absorbed that piece of news, but she hoped against all hope that the bones didn’t belong to the person she missed. As tears swam in her eyes, she shook her head, as if to say please, please, not him.

A group of residents surrounded this particular spot along the alley that divided the rows of houses. There were whispers and chatters until someone gingerly picked up a skull by the drain. It was followed with a gasp from everyone. The skull’s bone structure fit the description of a missing person. The police officer in charge of the case turned in my direction with a frown. I panicked at this sight because I knew what it meant immediately. I was unable to accept the news and reversed before I ran home in tears.

Interpretation

I don’t know what to make out of the dream, to be honest. This is the second day in a week that my dream has a touch of the core course. *throws hands in the air* It also doesn’t help my case that I was thrown awake at 8 am (when I slept at 3 am - don’t ask why; it might have been the combination of cannin and caffeine) with a cold hand on my spine.

Dreaming about the terrace house might be indicative of my future house - but I know it won't be in Australia because I've not seen any Australian house with that kind of layout in my dream. It's only the houses in Malaysia that have it. I'm going to assume that I dreamt of a future version of myself with two children - a boy and a girl. The only question was the girl's hair color because it's unlikely to be my future child, seeing that I'm brunette and the little girl was a blonde.

As for the skull, I'd say that it is indicative of death or the death of something in me. Maybe an element of my personality. Maybe my viewpoint about people.

Friday, October 19, 2018

The volcanic rumble

I’ve been done with everything since the start of this semester - and I don’t know what I’m relying on to survive the remaining weeks. Neither have I taken any energy drinks nor have I taken anything I shouldn't. Maybe it’s just me burying deep into an emergency tank that I never knew I had. Maybe once that has been depleted, I’ll let everything go and hide myself from the world. Take an x number of weeks off social media and hibernate in a place where no one can find me. Just as and when I thought that the most stressful time was over, little did I know that the second part of it would knock on my door. But it’s fine. I foresaw that I’d be dead from the academic stress in the final semester. I just have to endure a couple more weeks and there would be one less thing for me to lose sleep over.

"What did you just say?"

I initially thought that when I’m as busy as a bee with the assignments and volunteering activities, it’d take my mind off those things. The opposite occurred; most nights are spent thinking about how much I dislike humanity and people’s ever-changing masks to suit their circumstances. Nobody would truthfully help others, that’s something I’ve noticed lately. It’s a dog-eat-dog world where the strongest and sneakiest would emerge as the sole survivor. I know it sounds harsh, but let’s face it. Most things in life come at a price - and it’s up to an individual to decide if it is worth the sacrifice.

Another thing that has stood out was my irritability. I’ve always been on the extreme side and suffered from intense mood swings since college, but it’s getting really bad nowadays. A friend decided to throw me under the bus with a fictional situation a couple of days ago, which usually doesn’t affect me whatsoever because it doesn’t carry any weight. I know it was said in jest, but I couldn’t help but be annoyed over it. My sister knows that whenever I answer with a slow, emphasized ‘what did you just say?’,  I’m expressing my displeasure … or about to lose my cool, depending on the context of the conversation. Maybe it was extremely subtle to the point where he didn’t notice that my blood boiled, but there was an edge to my voice after I sought clarification from the tutor on a certain topic. My friend playfully whinged that my action stopped him and my sister from leaving. I don’t know if he meant it or not, but I replied that the two of them were more than welcome to have waited for me in the hallway instead. It sounded alright in my mind, but it came out sassier than I wanted. If something as petty as that almost made me lose my temper in front of everyone, it’s absolutely certain that I’m more irritable now - especially when someone makes a monkey out of me at my expense.

It’s ironic that I crave for the stress but crash under the weight of it. I never expected that I’ll bite off more than I could chew. This is best illustrated by one of the recent oral presentations that I did for the course. Unlike the ones that I have done throughout my studies, this was slightly different because it involved the collaboration of an entire class. Not all of us were comfortable with the idea because of the possibility of personality clashes - yet it had to be done. It was compulsory anyway. I absolutely have no idea why I volunteered myself to be one of the presenters (even though I no longer have the confidence to speak in front of my peers, no matter how much time I’ve had to prepare for it). Having the paper rest on my thigh was uncomfortable because I had to shoot glances at it and ensure that I wasn’t lost, but my hand shook as bad as an aftershock when I held the paper.

I’m easily exhausted nowadays; if it’s not physical, it’s mental. It’s sometimes both - and that’s when it gets too much for me to cope. My immune system must’ve taken a beating from all of the stress and suppressed emotions that it has decided to fight back in ways i don’t appreciate.

"Life abroad isn’t as glorious as everyone makes it out to be."

I had a Skype session with a childhood friend ages ago - or rather some time during the spring break after years of not maintaining frequent contact with each other. We’ve only kept tabs via Instagram. At one moment in time, we were both international students albeit in two different countries, so we understood each other’s pain and angst about it. The above quote was actually shared by her - she concurs that although the grass is greener on the other side, it’s only the lucky ones who experience the positive aspects of it.

She found it hard to believe that after spending many years abroad, I’ve made the conscious decision to come home. Yet, in exchange, I’m throwing big dreams of mine into the sea and a shattered viewpoint on life and people. Most of us who have gone overseas for our tertiary education have unwillingly returned either because of family commitments or work-related commitments. It’s not that I’m exhausted from being a vagabond. It’s because I need a familiar place, a place where I can lay all of my cards down in peace and lick my wounds. Mr. YY mentioned before that I’ll be as bright as the sun once I’m abroad, but all that has surrounded me in the comforting arm of darkness. The line that divides light from dark has blurred now. Without the self-control, those feelings would leak onto my face and incur further questions from those around me. I understand their concern, but I don’t know whether it is done of a genuine or a fake concern. The world is like a shark pond; you don’t know who you are dealing with. I wouldn’t reach out to people for help yet when they ask if I’m coping, I’ll lie through my teeth that life is peachy (even though I want a hug or a shoulder to cry on). My struggles are for me to bear alone and I won’t burden anyone.

“Don’t call me heartless when you made me this way.”

I know people are waiting to catch up with me yet my heart has turned cold towards them, especially after everything that has happened. I’m finding it ironic that those who chose to ignore you when you need them most would be the ones who would be running towards you with open arms. But at least once I’m done, I’m done. I can close the chapter on my bittersweet four year journey. To say that I want to turn the time back would mean not meeting that handful of friends. I just wish that it wasn’t at the expense of my optimism and confidence.

As this is written by my zombified version at 2 am, there may be parts where it won't make sense, but I hope it has enough content to alleviate any form of confusion.

Wednesday, October 17, 2018

10/17/18

I dreamt that a fashion event was held in an abandoned building. If I hadn’t known about its history, I wouldn’t have known that it was once unoccupied for a long time. It was as if the management ensured that they went to extreme lengths to remove all traces of its past - including its decorations.

There was a registration table on the ground floor, but it was hidden from public view. It was in a little room that was at the back of the building. There was an elevator close to the entrance to the room. It required someone familiar with the building layout to know where it was. As we walked towards the room, I noticed that the wall art was similar to the one that an acquaintance used for her house. After we collected our name tags from the person in charge, we were guided to the location hosting the event that we registered for.

It was a beautifully decorated third floor. There was a chair outside the elevator - for reasons that I don’t know. Accompanying the chair was a side table with a window on top of it. The side table had a vase of flowers as a decorative piece. The events were divided by rooms and floors - it was a large event with different segments to it. The fees that we paid also differed in that regard. The more events we attended, the higher fees that we needed to pay. The one that we registered for was held in a medium-sized and brightly lit room. The stage was decorated with white curtains with a couple of tables scattered across the place.

Interpretation

The emotions that I picked up from the abandoned building bordered on loneliness - even though the management removed all traces of its past. With regards to this, MetroEve.com suggested that the following: ‘To dream of an abandoned house represents belief systems, ways of living, or relationships that have been discarded. It may also reflect abandoned ideas or a future you planned for yourself and gave up on. Decisions or lifestyle choices you are aware of yourself having purposely given up.’ This is true; I’m living on a shaky bedrock. I know the future that I’ll have would differ from the one I planned for myself after high school. Life’s cruel stroke, I guess.

Maybe the hidden room connotes a self of me that I’ve hidden from the rest of the world - including those closest to me. I’m like an onion. When you think you have gotten to the core, there are more layers to be peeled, revealing something different about me. According to MetroEve.com, the dream most likely is trying to remind me that I have more potential than I am willing to let on. Furthermore, it might be a reminder to return to something that I have placed on the backburner. This reminds me of a story that I’m trying to write in the free time that I have. It’s a hard task - because whatever free time I have, I want to spend it on myself not doing anything but sleep. The fact that I have dreamt of an elevator signifies 'an awareness that a choice will be better or worse with ease once I make the choice.' Is this hinting at my desire to return home and the dilemma I faced in making that decision? I won't deny that there are pros and cons to the decision.

The thing that caught my attention in the dream was the vase of flowers because it came straight out of a movie scene. DreamBible.com opines that dreaming of flowers means that I’ve noticed something nice or gorgeous and appreciating those around me. That’s the positive aspect of it. The negative side would be me being a narcissist and vain, but the one that strikes a chord with me is ‘dwelling too much on how good your life used to be before something bad happened’. Because I made the decision to pursue my studies abroad, I had a different life. I’d say it was more stable than the one I’m having now. And I was definitely less moody.

As for the chair, it means that I’ve made a decision and would not be swayed by the opinion of others. It might even mean that I’ve had enough of the unequal treatment I’ve received over the years and my intention to make it a level playing field while giving those people a taste of their own medicine.

Here’s the interesting part. The color white. In the dream, everything from the decorations to the wall was in white, leaving everyone in peace and in admiration. I’m not sure if this means I’ve dragged myself through the deeper levels of hell that I need some peace to balance things out. On one hand, it does feel that I’m bearing grudges and angst in my heart but am doing my best to mask those feelings. I don’t know why, but there is a part of me which feels that the consequences of my decisions would only bring hurt to those around me. Also there is a fear that I won’t be the perfect person that I want to be.

As for the stage, I’d have to agree with the interpretation that there is ’a heightened sense of pressure to succeed or perform well under pressure'. These last couple of years have caused me to live in a pressure cooker for most of the time. Don’t even remind me of my anxiety levels when I catch myself thinking about my readiness to graduate and be financially independent. I’m not saying that it’s a bad thing, but I’ve no idea whether I can cope with the stressful environment of my chosen path. There is some truth to this. Although I was comfortable with being one of the presenters, I felt that I could’ve done better. It would have been easier to have held the paper in my hand and speak instead of letting it rest on my thighs - but I just couldn’t. When I tried to hold the paper up, my hand started to shake.

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

10/16/18

I dreamt that there was a commotion at the auditorium, so I rushed in to see whether I could offer my assistance. It was quieter than a graveyard. The seating rows faced the front of the auditorium, which was a large floor-to-ceiling glass window. At the back row, a female had held a knife against another girl’s throat and warned everyone to stay frozen in their seat. There were footsteps approaching the back door of the auditorium, which caught everyone’s attention. Before anyone could make their escape in that split second, a delivery man entered with a box addressed to the captor.

The captor opened the box and read the letter before she dropped the box, spilling its contents everywhere. “We are no longer in love,” she repeated aloud.

The next scene involved me struggling to breathe and the doctor rushing to stabilize my condition. It was moments later that I realized that it was just a dream. I was alright and I felt like I was back in my own room with the peach-colored walls, but I temporarily lived in a student hostel for the duration of my degree because home was far away. The door was left ajar; although my eyes were closed, I was semi-conscious and overheard discussions about one of the courses flowing in from the hallway.

The final scene involved me finding a dead person who had committed suicide. He hanged himself from the ceiling fan. The chair was on its side nearby, which was indicative that he kicked the chair aside after tightened the noose around his neck.

Interpretation

If I can remember right, this is the first time that I've dreamt of a place with so many people inside. It is possible, according to DreamBible.com, that I've an issue in my life that I need more attention on. I'm not sure what the scene is indicating at, but I've my suspicions. Suspicions that I'll not share in public because there are some things that should remain private. Failing which, there is something that I have been paying close attention to.

As for the hostage situation, it could be a reflection of something that I am unable to express or the exhaustion of caving in to the wishes of others without asserting myself. In short, I may be pleasing people at the expense of my own wishes and happiness.

It's rather odd that I'd dream of a delivery to a person - the fact that the box fell down the seats without injuring anyone is beyond me. A box would not move on its own - it requires someone to push it or throw it down the steps. Yet, it may just mean that my subconscious wants closure on things in my life. Maybe it's the awkward situation with the college friend. Maybe it's the suppressed emotions that has been my company since sophomore year. Maybe it's time I break out of my cage.

It can’t be considered as lucid dreaming because it isn’t. Lucid dreaming would require me to be aware that I am dreaming and me being in control of the narrative. Nonetheless, the interpretation of this is that I might be visited by friends who are not based in the same place as me. Another proposition is a marriage proposal. The latter is weirder because I don’t even have plans for a relationship now, what more marriage. Sure, there are times when I do think about the idea of marriage, but it does not mean that I’ll go through with it (even though I’m facing with pressure from folks around me).

It no longer surprises me when I dream of finding dead bodies anymore. I mean, it’s the second time that it has happened. The first involved me stumbling upon a bloodied crime scene. And now this. DreamsCloud.com highly suggests that this may mean that I have not buried a situation or a relationship that has met its end. This definitely hints at the college friend. Although we aren’t exactly friends anymore, I do think of him from time to time and hope that we’d be able to have a drink and reminisce, just like the lyrics for Kodaline’s Moving On. Another interpretation is that I’m emotionally dead. Am I then emotionally numb? I know that I’ve not arrived at that stage - it takes a lot for me to reach that pinnacle - but I’m more cynical than I’ll ever be. Nothing in life excites me anymore. Only time will reveal everything.

Sunday, September 30, 2018

09/30/18

And so, how should I phrase this?

After seeing and experiencing the darker side of reality for the past 10 months, it has turned me into a cynical child. Surprise, surprise. It’s challenged my understanding and perception of friendship and religion. Since the latter is a sensitive topic for most if not all, I shall leave it out of the post. As for the former, let’s just say that I already had a fair warning for it.

I guess the tables will be turned rather soon. For someone who’s now more negative-minded and seeking solace in the darkness, it wouldn’t be long before the effects will write themselves on my facial expressions, especially the anger. Anger has filled my veins with such pace that it turns my face beet red. When I know that I have to face people, I wear a mask to ensure that no one knows my truest thoughts. It didn’t help that my degree has exposed me to topics and sights I never thought I’d see either - even those outdoor adventures haven’t helped to soothe the growing annoyance within me. It is only when I’m alone within the four walls that I will remove the mask and allow those feelings to bubble to the surface. It’s better that way; I don’t want anyone to ask if I’m okay because my feelings are for me alone to deal with and I’m tired of wondering whether the person has asked out of a genuine concern or out of pity.

I dreamt that there was no driver in the car that we rode in - it drove itself. While I was seated in the front passenger seat, the three female friends were at the back. We were pretty much talking to each other en-route to our final destination when our car suddenly stopped in the middle of the road. This impact lunged us forward before I felt a stronger impact at the back. When I turned my head to see, the three fellows were severely injured. The back of the car obviously caved in closer to the front portion. One of them was barely conscious and heard me, but couldn’t respond to my words.

And the rest I can’t remember.

I read online some time ago that car accidents are usually indicative of an inner turmoil or a clash of beliefs between myself and someone close to me.

All that’s on my mind now is to complete the rest of my academic journey without complications (read: anxiety attacks and full-blown emotional breakdown) and take a six-week break away from social media accounts and humans to chill out.

Saturday, September 29, 2018

09/29/18



I stumbled upon this video on YouTube at their recommendation since I was watching another video by the same uploader. It basically describes the situation that I am in - spending more time alone than with people. I’m someone who's in the middle of the spectrum; too much time alone will make me comfortable in the silence whereas too little time alone will make me jumpy. There were bits and pieces that I related to, especially the eating part. It reminded me of how I snuck out of campus in second semester to have a date with myself during the Period 4 break from time to time, only to be harassed with text messages and phone calls. Could never understood people’s penchant with calls.

In the last 10 months, I’ve seen things that have rendered me colder than ice, which warrants spending more and more time alone. In fact, staying indoors for 3 - 4 days isn't surprising anymore. If I don't have obligations, I can spend as many days as possible alone to let the anger and annoyance dissipate.

Thursday, September 27, 2018

09/27/18

And so, it was after weeks of arrangement and a sudden clash of schedules that we were able to hang out - me and the good friend. I brought him to a place that I figured would compliment his palate since he’s a fan of Asian cuisine instead of one of our usual joints.

We managed to find a seat even though the place was packed with starving lunch hour diners. I killed two birds with one stone and handed his gift bag to him while waiting for our meals to be delivered. It contained both his birthday and farewell presents (he’s not going anywhere; I am). As expected, it was accompanied by a handwritten letter that was separately given. I should’ve seen it coming the moment the conversation fell into silence and the impact that it had on him. I zoned out, allowing him the moment to have a cursory glance of the letter or read the content. He was quieter than usual as he folded the letter along its creases. It wasn’t until our gazes met that alarm bells rang in my head - he’s never behaved in this manner in the course of our friendship, which left a cold hand on my spine because I didn’t know what to do.

I did the only thing that I thought of. That one innocent gesture that earned me awkwardness and a piercing stares from someone when I was at the receiving end. I comforted him with a side hug twice; seeing him in this state left me with a sour feeling as he’s been a good friend to me in our law school journey. To change the mood of the conversation, we talked about safe topics - one which I knew he has a voracious interest in.

It was a good hangout, alright. As we spent the lunch hour together, his mood slowly but surely recovered. I don’t know if it was me, but I thought I detected a wave of exhaustion in his eyes - like he wanted to throw in the towel. We managed to update each other with the current twists and turns of our lives, careful to omit some content on our parts.

I’m breaking out in cold sweat even as I think about what would happen when those two really keep to their word and see me off at the airport. In my years of solo travel, I never fancied friends to bid their adieus at the airport - for the fear of tearing our eyes out. Flying with red, swollen eyes ain’t fun because of the pressure and dehydration.

A week later, my criminal law friend and I met up for lunch at the same time for an overdue catch up. The last we properly caught up was sometime last semester, lol. There was an exchange of gift - and I know I ruined the surprise for him when I told him the content of it, but I figured it was the best, especially if he intended to bring it back to his home country. Transporting glasses are already a pain in the neck - what more alcohol? My breath caught in my throat when he handed mine - two of them, actually. I hadn’t expected him to make an effort to get a birthday/farewell gift for me. Not many friends know me that well to buy presents because they didn’t want to risk getting the wrong item. Furthermore, I’m comfortable with gifting friends for birthdays and farewells because I have a mental list of safe items for each person. It would have cost him quite a bit to purchase them (because as far as I could tell, they weren’t bought in Adelaide).

At least meeting up with them took the edge off from a stressful semester. Keeping appearances when you are in the sour mood ain't fun, but that was how I was for 3/4 of the semester.

Saturday, September 22, 2018

9/22/18

I dreamt that there was a police roadblock at the exit spilling into the Federal Highway. It was a quiet, muggy night with cars using that particular route. I initially thought that the police officer flagged me down, so I prepared to stop my car and hand both my driver’s license and identity card to him. He, however, gestured me to drive off, indicating that it was another person that he had an interest in.

The camera then panned to the next scene, where I found myself walking alone on that road. It was just me at 3 in the morning. The street lights were a dim orange. I don’t know why, but there was a sense of peace mixed with fear.

The next scene involved a drone view of a small town, which resembled that little village place I visited en-route to Golden Palm Tree. It gave me an advantage because I had an aerial view of the place including the traffic lights and that row of shops. Up ahead was a jungle of some kind and next to it was a graveyard.

Well… because I only remembered snippets of the dreams instead of the actual narrative, it is hard for me to interpret its meaning.

Monday, September 17, 2018

09/17/18



I had watched this as a drama series when it first premiered way back when I was a little child, which explains why I can barely remember the storyline - except that the main character was mute as a result of an accident and prioritise his adoptive sister's happiness above his own.

Now, I managed to get a copy of the film after reading about its adaptation somewhere, but I won't ruin the surprise for you guys. The plot kept tugging at my heart stringers, which left me wondering whether it was supposed to be a sad or heartwarming film. With that being said, I'd recommend you guys to watch it, especially if you have watched the drama series before. Two quotes stood out and because my laptop isn't equipped with the Chinese format, I can only write it in English.

  • 'love means never having to say sorry' (1:12:57)
  • 'time waits for no one' (1:30:29)

I related the most with the second quote because time is like a spill that you can never contain. No matter how much you try to stop it, it just doesn't work.

Saturday, September 15, 2018

09/15/18



I’ll be candor.

I must be stressed to the point where I’ve been binge watching movies.

Watching ‘Book Club’ days after ‘Crazy Rich Asians’ made me feel like I was pushing the limits of my weekly budget as tickets aren’t exactly affordable, even as a student due to the fluctuating exchange rates. It also didn’t help that I had all of the assignments rolled up - one after another, waiting for submission.

But I wanted to treat myself with a trip to the theatre.

I almost died from the immense laughter, especially in certain scenes because it felt like what the grandmother version of me would do in x number of years time.

Thursday, September 6, 2018

9/6/18

I dreamt that I was invited to a formal/casual event held in a shopping mall that resembled the floor of Sunway Pyramid. Because I had been away from the place for a long while, I arrived about three hours before the event to make sure that I knew where the location of the event was. I found people guarding the doors to the event hall and left them alone. Since I was early and deciding that I needed to kill time, I swung by the arts and crafts nearby. I was relieved that it was still trading even after all these years. It was a shop that I patronized frequently when I was permanently based in town some time ago. They sold ready-made artworks for people to purchase and provided free materials for people clueless in arts and crafts - like myself - to test their ability in making something from scratch. Not to mention, our creativity skills.

The next scene saw me waiting in a toilet with another person who had wrapped herself in a towel to protect her modesty. It was surprisingly not smelly like most toilets in real life; it didn’t have any perfume, but it didn’t reek of any bad smell either. The floor was dry and devoid of any spillage. The doors were in the same shade as the floor - a light touch of beige. There was a bench in front of the cubicles, to which a friend was folding her clothes in a neat way and preparing to swap into a suitable attire. She had wrapped herself in a towel. Two people approached us and asked whether we were waiting in line for the next available cubicle, to which we said no. Both of them looked like they wanted to use the shower facilities that the bathroom provided.

When it was time for me to enter the area, I took a deep breath to mentally prepare myself for the chaos. I knew that I’d be facing people I would ordinarily avoid in normal circumstances. My heart skipped a beat when I saw someone loitering at the doors as I approached the entrance. It was someone whom I know in real life. His eyes glittered with recognition and he responded with a small smile. I reciprocated with a micro-wave before I made my way inside.

My only interpretation of this dream is that …. my subconscious must’ve been pushed to such edge from the stress of rolling assignments.

Saturday, September 1, 2018

Save me from the mess

It wasn’t something I factored into my consideration.

It wasn’t even something that should’ve impacted me in such a manner, seeing that I had a prior experience with it.

A swamped week of assignments that left me on the edge for the most of the week - and I accepted the challenge. Yet it derailed in front of my eyes. No matter how much I prepared, it wasn’t enough to soothe the racing heart.

There was no point in avoiding it because I’d have to eventually face it, but being sent to the deep end at the height of an anxiety attack was something I didn’t expect. What saved me was the knowledge of the consequences. As I slipped into the role that was assigned to me, I improvised with what I remembered and threw in the towel. I’m someone who prefers the clear divide between maintaining appearances in public and letting myself go in private; I wasn’t about to let the panic leak onto my facial features. I drained the contents of my water bottle and absently reached out for my friend’s bottle without even realizing that it was the sign of nerves. It was until my teammate took a glance at me and whispered that I should take a few deep breaths to calm down. Great, I’m sure if he saw it, it means that I wore that glassy look instead.

My throat felt like it was being restricted. My hands shook with such intensity that for a moment, I thought I was losing control. I zoned out as a coping mechanism, but my eyes kept darting in the direction of the door. Thank heavens nobody noticed it… or so I thought. Just like old times, I’ll receive apologies once the roleplay has been completed.

The anxiety was still thick in the air… no matter how much I wanted it gone by the time I had to complete another oral assignment. I have no idea what’s going on now; the oral presentations last semester were nerve-wrecking because I decided to do both of them in the same week. And no, there was no undue influence. As for this semester, my emotions are divided in various directions as a result of the workload and stress. Even volunteering for an event over the weekend didn’t help either; I mysteriously landed myself in a pot of stress even though it’s a role I’m comfortable with.

I’m still panicky as I’m writing this - even though it has been days since the fact. The bright side is that I can now take a short breather and retune my emotions. I know my mind, body, and soul well; when I’m drowning in more matters than I can cope and suffering from sleep deprivation (that may or may not incited by insomnia), the automatic response is an internal collapse.
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