Friend turned Phobia

They wanted to see its fear…


If there is anything that I always tell myself, it will be this: “Without going through what I have been through, I could not confidently say that I would be who I am today. And I like who I am today.” My past makes up who I am today.

My recent past is filled with happy memories. Yet my distant past is another story.

I developed an intense fear of insects since I was young. The sight of any sort of insect would send chills down my spine, goosebumps all over my skin, and ultimately bring me to tears. Though there was a time when I looked at insects with an intense gaze of curiosity.

Before I was able to make a distinction between animals from insects, I had a general interest in all living organisms. From complex dinosaur names, to the minute differences between crocodiles and alligators, the knowledge of all animals intrigues me. Zoologists was the dream occupation that closely seconded my first as an artist. I would spend hours and hours memorizing facts and, attempted, to draw accurate representations of it on blank pieces of papers. Amongst those drawings, most of them were drawings of butterflies.

Monarch butterflies were my favourite. Its amber wings always reminded me of my mother’s blanket. The same blanket that she would wrap me around whenever I slept next her a night. I would gaze into the butterfly’s wings and feel comfort. Continue reading “Friend turned Phobia”

Porcelain Doll

The porcelain doll was once soft and flexible. Without shape, without purpose. Just pure joy. Meddling amongst the clay, not a single care about the future. Do you remember those days? Everything is just pure bliss. Good and evil, all muddled up. Pure innocence. 

Then came the kind and careful hand, tenderly scoping the round and plump clay, clasping the clay in those gentle and careful hands. They gently caress the clay with those rough but careful hands. Slowly touching, fondling, kneading.

Until they start pulling, stretching, moulding the clay, with those same rough and forceful hands, moulding it into something its not. Something they deem more purposeful. Something more appealing. Continue reading “Porcelain Doll”

The Power of Three

The number three is a wonderful number. It has generally three ways you could represent it with one hand. It is the number of time: past, present, future. It is the number of states that water has: vapour, water, ice. It is the number that represents the holy trinity. It is the number of primary colours. It is also a number of times for a “charm” to work.

It is also a number that brings great pain.

The world biased towards even numbers. Equality exists in most even numbers, but not always odd numbers. Odd numbers are, in fact, just odd. Weird. Disgusting. Being the second prime number, three is always just one number away from being divisible, being equal, being multiple.

Three on itself is stable.

In humans, two is an all too intimate number, three provides balance. Stability. Equilibrium. Therefore, most groups of friends that I have automatically organise themselves in groups of three. Being in three is comfortable and seems all too natural.

But three is not natural. Continue reading “The Power of Three”


I’ve never been in a relationship before, so having my heart broken by someone is a completely distant feeling to me. However, the feeling of having my heart broken by myself is a feeling that is all too familiar to me.

As a Piscean, I live my days as if I was living in a fantasy. I daydream in order to escape from the stress and the torture of the mundanity of the routine lifestyle. I see sparkles, bubbles, petals, unicorns, rainbows and glitters every day. I plug in my earphones and all the outside world is to me is but a backdrop to my life’s music video. I submerge in the fantasy that I have created myself. I fantasize and I romanticize. It is the most beautiful way to live…  Continue reading “Shaved”

The Lion and the Fish

Once upon a time, there was a young lion cub which lived in the woods onto of a hill. The cub lived years of isolation within the woods, for his parents were always nowhere to be seen. Lonely and helpless, the cub often ventures off and explores the woods alone to find food for himself.

One fateful evening, when the cub was cautiously stumbling through the woods, he discovered that in the middle of the small opening lies a tiny pond. The pond was aquamarine and shone with a mysterious luminescent aura. Slowly, the cub approached the pond and there he discovered a tiny fish. Though the fish looked nothing out of the ordinary, it greatly intrigued the innocent little cub. The tiny fish welcomed the cub with open fins and slowly, the cub lowered his defenses. Continue reading “The Lion and the Fish”

The Pill of Happiness

If there is anything that I always tell myself, it will be this: “Without going through what I have been through, I could not confidently say that I would be who I am today. And I like who I am today.” My past makes up who I am today.

My recent past is filled with happy memories. Polaroids of friendship moments full of love and fellowship. Moments I relive every now and then just to brighten up my day. I know how blessed I am, and I remind myself that wouldn’t have survived until this day without these beautiful people. As my know-it-all step-cousin once put it a couple years back: my friendships are something that even he would be jealous of. Continue reading “The Pill of Happiness”

Little Impacts

Like a footprint on an unattended zen garden.

Some say that a picture is worth a thousand words. Yet through time, I have come to discover that words leave the strongest impressions. Time after time, I find myself contemplating things that someone said. The intonation that they said it, the situation in which they said it, the gestures that they said it with, the state of mind in which they said it, the circumstances that caused them to say it. It’s always the little things that impact me the most. It’s the little things which people deem unimportant that affects my state of mind the most. Like a footprint on an unattended zen garden. Continue reading “Little Impacts”

I am Proud of You

I am proud of you, and clearly you don’t know that.

What does it mean? Being proud of someone. Or simply. Saying that you are proud of someone. What does it do? What effect does it make? What good does it make?

Being proud of someone stays with yourself. Because you are the one who is proud. You are the one who is feeling those feelings. You are the one who gets to go around and tell others about the person, or quite frankly, the object that you are proud of. Being vocal about it only makes your feeling visible. It lets others know that you are proud of that object. It lets the person know that you are proud of that person.  Continue reading “I am Proud of You”


What could I say? I really had nothing to say…

Quiet nights prompt quiet thoughts.

Thoughts that seep deeper than soot.

Soot like agony pours heavily down.

Down right into the core of hidden pasts –

and fears unnoticed…


The park was quiet as usual. Just the way I liked it. It’s not like I hated the livelihood of the mornings, but the nights just add a little more mystery and ambiguity to it. The perfect atmosphere for a depressed guy having a depressing day. As the dusk caresses my gloomy features and blends into it, my heart sinks slowly into the abyss like the setting sun on judgment day. Continue reading “Malboro”

A Letter to Future

This is my letter to you from me.

Dear Future

Who grasps the unknown within her clutch like cage

Like a bottomless cage

Far from human touch

Yet available to fondle with

By your seductress-like fingers

For the sake of leaving a sense of unwanted mystery

Like the shrewd murderer to the oblivious victim

Or the invisible predator to the docile fawn

Continue reading “A Letter to Future”