When you aren’t around

What do I really miss? Do I miss you or do I miss love? When we love someone do we love them, or do we love loving them and being loved back? I accept your flaws, I love your idiosyncrasies but that’s what I think love is supposed to do.

All this, we’ve never talked about this. We never really faced this part of me, this part that I feel that really is, the core of me. I think. I don’t even know myself. I don’t know many things, and I admit them, only to myself. You are this all-seeing eye, you think you know everything, and you seek to know everything. But I exist in my ignorance, and in front of you, wear this mask of knowledge.

Bleary eyed scrolling through articles on thoughtcatalog tagged under love and sex, sometimes under breaking up.

Realising that everyone is confused about love and no one is a guru. Not getting tips anywhere, no guidance, stop living my life according to arbitrary lists.

We talk about forever because we seem to believe that by verbalizing it, we are making it truer. Since when did truth have a degree; there is truth and there is fiction. We find ourselves in the chasm, reaching for truth with our words. Or maybe you don’t find yourself anywhere but grounded in reality. I am never grounded anywhere.

me vs. you

I found this year-old post sitting in my drafts (with some edits from current-me), and it’s amazing how it really sums up how I feel nowadays. Past-me understands current-me more than thoughtcatalog. Also, this means what I’ve feared a year ago seems to be slowly solidifying and becoming a reality.


I’ve always wondered how i could love someone so grounded in reality, so adamant that only our perceptions of reality are valid. Granted, you expound on wormholes and alternate universes but they are all backed up by scientific documentaries you’ve watched. Everything is grounded in science. Even our love is grounded in science, in the transmission of electrical impulses. I don’t think you understand why I was sad when you claimed that all human emotion can be reduced down to neurons.

Words are my thing and math is yours but love is ours. I pour mine out in letters and diary entries while you express yours in fractions and infinities. We fumble along our incompatible ways of loving, trying to accommodate each other, trying to not lose ourselves among this amalgamation of languages. Our expressions may be variables that we find hard to solve but our love has always been the constant. And I am thankful that among the complex metaphors and long prose that I attempt to capture our love in, I will never succeed. We will never succeed. Because our love cannot be contained, cannot be expressed in fractions and quantified, cannot be known and expressed by an ocean of words, by all the versions of dictionaries. We exist in this continuum we have built between us, floating, struggling, together.

Despite that we will keep trying.

Ironically the day that we stop trying will be the day that our continuum breaks down. I don’t know about you. But I will fall. Hard. Through my woven web of words and phrases, I will fall. I will grasp at every past prose, verse and line written about you, and wonder if we managed to reconcile my words and your numbers, we would have made our continuum a new reality.

Turning Point(s)

I’m not going to do those ‘looking back at 2014’ posts, I think my attempt at journalling has left enough bad writing in my $5 typo notebook. Hopefully I won’t let the writing bug leave me again.

A lot of sad things happened to me in the past year, and in the pathetic end bits of J2. (Wow, look at me reflecting on 2014 even when I said I wouldn’t) Good things too, but I can’t really say exactly how my life for the last two years were. I stopped reading, writing and creating. Every time I try to start I give up because I judge myself very harshly (also I’m lazy). Who would want to read this shit or look at your feeble attempts at art? But after a very strange 2014, I’m leaning towards the tired ‘YOLO’/’fuck this shit’ trope and hence, the rejuvenation of this blog.

For the past few years, I think I’ve experienced how people could burrow away at life, and then wake up one day and ask themselves, “what the fuck has happened to me” Not that I’m claiming to be a troubled millennial with a quarter-life crisis (please, so passe *ahem* thoughtcatalog), but I do feel like I just woke up from this dream that was the past 2 years. I won’t go into deep analysis of how I even let myself lapse into this phase, but mostly, with the advent of Candy Crush, and more recently, Tsum Tsum and Simcity, emotions can be distracted by a few swipes of the screen, and primary coloured rewards that emit cute tunes. Never has satisfaction presented itself as adorable as tapping open a premium box to get a Frozen Ana Tsum Tsum. Also, the never-ending pile of assignments and ‘things-to-do’ distract me from really reflecting on things that happened. Emotions never lasted as they are ‘resolved’ by a quick rant or a few sighs and a pat on the back. Instead of dwelling in them, I threw them under my growing pile of responsibilities. Which isn’t good either.

I honestly don’t know what woke me up, it all seemed such a haze. The strongest feeling though, was that I couldn’t remember much from the past 2 years. Emotions that stayed and circulated in me for weeks until I wrung them out in words, in images and in tears, were the ones that I could link to memories. And the last occurrence of that was about 2012, early 2013. Time was definitely a factor, an expensive commodity that I decided to sacrifice retrospection, only to spend it on lives in Candy Crush and other time-related games that dangle new tries with a clock. How stupid.

Maybe I’m procrastinating from cramming anatomy into my head, and starting on biochemistry. Procrastination at it’s best. Whatever it is, I’m going to do some emotional spring-cleaning. My life, along with my emotions, has stagnated and mosquitoes are breeding. I feel like I’m in one place, and my head in another, and my emotions, everywhere. I have become a stereotype of the average smart asian kid, filial daughter and good girlfriend. I’m suffocating, help.

By the way – reading through my old blogposts, I actually quite like how I used to write… *self-praise* Hope I still have it in me.