it's a wrap!

just another manic monday…

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Everything happens for a reason

Someone dear to me recently said this to me. 

It reaffirms my belief that nothing is ever a coincidence. 

Although I know this, it is generally hard to accept when something doesn’t work out according to plan. And last year, especially in the last quarter of 2013, things get so screw-y and twisted that I felt like I was caught in a whirlwind twice over. 

October was Wave 1. But I learnt such a valuable lesson that I almost (grudgingly) admitted that it was not a bad thing that the plan got screwed up.

I learnt things about myself, abilities and dreams started bubbling up in me. 

Dreams that I never would’ve dared dream had things not happened as they had. 

Sure, it was not at all what I had expected. 

Sure, it caused me tears and grief. 

December, December, December. 

The days were short, but when I thought back to the possibility that those few short days were not even supposed to happen. 

Those glorious short lived days, so fun filled and filled with joy that I will not exchange them for pretty much anything, except maybe a month of them! =)

Curry noodles


And this is how curry noodles are done best in my opinion.
Thick and dense, filling one’s nostrils with that unmistakable aroma. Paired with crispy fried meat and chicken wings.
Every bite gives one an “Ahhhh….” of the deepest satisfaction.
Douse the fire caused by the curry by sipping the warm milky tea.


Lets go on a roadtrip babe-y!


Comfort food


Aglio Olio with bacon.
The spaghetti slightly softer than the averagely preferred al dente but just nice for my taste.
The nicely browned bacon bits giving a slight smoked flavor to the overall taste.
Mmmm…this is one of the best comfort foods ever.

gripping dream

It’s been awhile since I’ve been so gripped by a dream. it was so real, in terms of the emotions I felt, yet, I knew it wasn’t true because I was in sleep wear at a formal dinner. It just doesn’t make sense.
But the feelings were real enough.
It was so gripping, that fear in my heart. I know this is what the sayings mean when it says one’s heart is torn apart.
I digress.
I woke up at dawn, to the chill, maybe of the weather, maybe of the heart. My heart pounded, I sat up and the tears slid down my cheeks involuntarily. A lump in my throat.
It’s been months and yet the wound’s still as fresh and raw as it was the day it was inflicted. Sigh, when does healing happen? When do the tears stop?
Days like these, I wonder if the tears will ever dry up. I wonder if the dull ache in my heart will ever go away.
What a way to start the week with!




Traditionally, symbolically, the moon is deemed to be the fullest, brightest and nearest during the 15th of the 8th month in the Lunar calendar.
Although it’s never been much of a practice for my family to gather during this time, this time of the year always reminds me of childhood days when my grandmother used to buy us handmade lanterns. They are always made of transparent paper stretched across a metal frame, painted whatever they are supposed to be, horses, dragons, goldfishes, cats and rabbits, sprinkled with gold dust. As time progress, more and more characters made their way onto shop floors, especially cartoon characters. Some innovative people came up with the electric lanterns for paranoid parents who are afraid that playing with lanterns and candles will cause the whole place to be burnt to a crisp.
Mooncakes, I was and am never much of a fan. Over the years, more and more flavors have been produced, until one ends up with a mouthful of words. Try this, “Snow Skin Chocolate Yogurt with Cranberry bits” or “Snowy White Lotus and Sesame with custard”. But it’s quite a novelty because it’s only once a year that it is produced. The prices have just about tripled since my last count. Ridiculous actually, when one thinks about its relatively low cost.
These words actually hold a more personal meaning than what I like to admit normally. I want to brush it aside skeptically as romanticism. But I just cannot shake that feeling. What it really means to me is a linking of two hearts. When two hearts are allowed to finally unite.
Looking at the pale, silvery moon, almost ethereal, shrouded in a layer of light mist, I marvel at the warmth that spread slowly through my veins, enveloping me. I wonder once again at the call that came on the final day. As I do not believe in coincidences, yet once again I am torn between hope and logic.
It was a good night to have steamboat. Cool breezes wafted by occasionally, warm herbal soup and spicy tom yam burnt our throats. Olden day music filled the air as a street peddler rolled by. I believe I am getting on in age; a young child has just promoted a rank for me.
I feel it in my creaking bones, but on this day, I tilt my face up to look at the graceful creamy moon and mellowed in its graciousness.

Cotton Wool

Not the nice pink cotton candy fluff one finds in the rainbow colored carnivals, those speaks of excitement, flashing strobes and merry-go-round with the clowns and rickety ferris wheels thrown in for good measure. The feets of excited children shuffling and scuffing on the sand filled grounds kick up puffs of dust around the feets thronging the place. Bursts of laughter and shouts of glee floated in the glowing atmosphere.
Nope, not that picture.
Stark white cotton wool wrapped in it’s indigo paper, resting on the shelves of an hospital emergency room. Clean, sterile.
that is what my head’s stuck with. Absolutely filled with the stuff. Cannot think properly. Cannot not sniffle. Thrown in for free, a good doze of sneezes, and THEN the nose starts running, eyes get watery.
Cannot think.
Cotton wool.


Relentlessly pounding in my head over and over again. Thoughts. Arrow sharp, tipped with poison shot at the vulnerable beating heart.
The poison drains me, leaving me curled up, twisted in the sheets and sobbing. Until I drop off to sleep in exhaustion.


Once one has experienced being gripped by a blinding rage, one gets frightened by how easily one can lose control.
It’s like there’s an angry leaping fire, bright red and orange in front of your eyes and you can’t see straight.
You’re scared but at the same time, you want to keep charging straight forward like an angry bull.
You can’t help slamming things, literally straining to kick that door vehemently and feel the satisfaction of hearing it SLAM!
You want to throw things on the ground just to hear them smash. You pound on the hard cement ground as you walk and walk and walk, the energy propelling you forward.
Nothing soothes you, passers by walking leisurely gets on your nerves, the tinny music of the mall irritates you.
And when the eergy is finally spent, you feel so drained, you can barely lift your arm to get that cup of water. Bile rises in your throat as you sit slouched over in a chair. As you put your head down to rest on your arm, your eyes automatically close, and you can’t help drifting off to the droning of the air conditioner.