Diary

A collection of words, translated from what the heart can no longer carry.

A Warm Winter, 2014

The winter waves numb my skin and freeze my bones. But with you, I am warm.

A Passing Train, 2015

You came into my life like a train.

Fast.

Then you left.

Just as fast.

You came with whistles so sweet and lights so bright, you blinded me.

I boarded you without an idea of where we were heading or what you were made of.

Our journey together started so beautiful.

You made me feel so warm, comfortable and special for I was the only passenger on what I thought was the greatest train I could ever board.

But without an announcement, you threw me onto the tracks.

And you continued on full speed ahead, never looking back.

I guess you wanted new, more interesting passengers.

Or maybe you felt I was slowing you down.

I thought I was never going to get back up.

But I did, and in the process, I have grown wings.

I am ready for new heights, and new adventures beyond your tracks.

I am strong enough to fly on my own now.

I won’t be needing a passing train anymore.

Tired Of Games, 2015

Our love is not a game.

If it was, I would still be sane.

But I guess you and I don’t think the same.

If we did, you too would feel the pain.

Conflict of Desires, 2015

My desires are a constant oscillation between

adventure and stability,

independence and security,

solitude and intimacy.

Paradox of Goodbyes, 2015

I walked into this knowing just how it would end.

With eyes dry and teary

With heart empty yet heavy

With short-lived moments that are now life-long memories.

A Little Tip Of Life, 2016

If you don’t know where you want to go,

Let the river’s flow take you.

But if you are fortunate enough to know exactly where you want to go,

You fucking swim there.

Even if it’s against the currents.

This Is The End Of What Never Really Began, 2016

The past year has been

365 days of heartbreak.

Of heartbreak

interspersed with small, short-lived moments

of happiness.

Happiness so great

I willingly put myself through nights of tears

and mornings of misses.

Misses so intense

It makes me weak.

Weak.

Yet so strong in holding on so tightly

To the thought of what could be.

A thought of you as soon as the alarm rings

as if it were my shot of coffee.

Shot is right.

Right in the heart, where there again, it hurts.

It hurts that I am not where I want to be.

To be with you

In your arms.

It has become an obsession.

An obsession I cannot accept.

I cannot accept that I have become this person.

This person who is no longer a person of her own.

On my own

I feel I can no longer be.

To be back where we met.

I wish

To be back to a time

A time of the past

A past when you and I

Still existed.

I am sick.

Sick of missing

Sick of crying

Sick of hoping

Hoping for an “us”.

An “us” that will never be.

Today, I let go.

Of hope

Of weakness

And of you.

This is the end.

The end

where we find

our new beginnings.

It’s Too Late (Part One), 2017

Why is it that I only want my eggs sunny side up

after they’ve been scrambled?

Why is it that I only wish for hair long and wavy

after they’ve been chopped off?

Why is it that I only crave company

after they’ve been given up for solitude?

Oh, why is it that I only want

what can no longer be mine?

The Seasons, 2017

Winter used to be my favourite season. At least, that’s what I would say whenever asked. It’s the most magical, with the soft fall of white snow, the bright colours of Christmas lights, and the cheer of children and adults alike making rounds on outdoor ice rinks. It’s the most romantic, with our fingers intertwined, finding warmth in your coat pocket as the cool breeze sweeps by our already red noses. It’s the most delicious, as I let myself believe a cup of hot chocolate a day is acceptable. It’s the most badass in fashion, as the only time I get to bring out my leather jacket, black coat and knee-high boots. All of these have now gathered dust in the infinite summer of KL. Yet, I am okay. I have grown to love summer. Not sure when on, but I have. Perhaps I’ve changed into a ‘summer’ kind of gal. Perhaps summer is now my favourite season, bringing with it skin kissed by the sun, hair styled by the sea breeze, and body nourished by green smoothies and fresh farm produce. I love the baggy tees and short shorts look, as I go from bike ride to short hike, having wild adventures in the warmth of the sun. Then at night, under the wonder of the starry sky.