crying: not an option

so i’ve just finished my biology exam and whoo can i tell you a thing or two i realised i have no clue about


a lil memory popped into my mind when i offhandedly mentioned my knee injury to my friend just minutes ago (aside: i seem to be stuck in nostalgia most of the time).

i remember being at back-to-back trainings for A Div in 2016 & i remember the one time i broke down and cried in public (in PUBLIC oh my goodness) because my everything hurt so bad. it was the 4th(3rd? cant remember exactly) consecutive day of training and my knee had already gone by this point (i have/had a partially torn ACL in my left knee and i needed/need??? a brace to bowl otherwise i’d p much collapse by the 3rd game), so the strain was placed on my left hip instead.

near the end of this training session my left hip started to hurt so bad i couldn’t walk without feeling a sharp pain go up my knee to my hip. it throbbed and it hurt so bad but i refused to sit down. even when my captain (bless you bert) told me to stop training, i stubbornly refused and persisted. it was only when i genuinely couldn’t stop the tears from coming forth did i listen to him.

(i still remember him asking me if i hated him for making me stop training. stupid kid. why the heck would i hate you for taking care of me when i couldn’t.)

i felt so shameful. i was consumed with embarrassment and guilt and so many negative emotions that i didn’t want to face my coaches or my friends or my team or any of their parents ever again.

then my parents came, saw me sit down (& not bowl for the rest of training) & naturally assumed i was being lazy & was using my ACL as an excuse to not train so hard. if only theyd known how much pain i had to endure just to play. i guess theyll never believe me. they never did before anyways.

but yeah, feeling like shit just because you cry is kind of a very sick feeling. all my life i was told it was shameful of me to cry. now i physically cannot cry in response to real-life situations unless it’s to do with my globophobia or my grandparents. like. it takes very little for me to cry over videos/books/etc, because i am an extremely emotional person, but it takes a lot, and i do mean a LOT, to make me cry in a real-life setting. if you ever see me break down in real life, my insides are probably going haywire. like, you do not want to touch me or talk to me or be anywhere near me when i’m crying.

i always feel like shit after i cry as well. the shame is enough to stop me from talking or feeling anything for hours (sometimes even days) and the humiliation is enough to reinforce the no-crying mechanism that’s been hardwired into my body. growing up with parents constantly scolding you for crying over things like being hurt (physically/emotionally) or like being terrified about having no friends in a new school really forced me to keep all my emotions inside me. and yknow. that’s not exactly ideal. because i have a lot of emotions all the time and if i were to mess up and let them spill out, a floodgate opens and i’m overwhelmed. and then i don’t know what to do.

i implore you to never tell children not to cry over things like getting hurt. if they’re crying over trivial things like spilling a bit of ice cream on their old shirt then, yeah, i mean, do what you must to help them realise that that isn’t that big of a deal, but please don’t ever shame kids for crying. i think it really messed me up. now i’m trying to unlearn it because it obviously is okay to cry, especially when you’re hurting on the inside, but it’s taking a while. it’s taking years and years and years, and maybe one day i’ll be more comfortable with showing how i truly feel but i doubt that’ll come soon.

yeah. anyway.

little thoughts.

see you soon.




so i stumbled upon 4 old blogs last night. 3 of which were mine and 1 of which was a class blog that i would burn to the ground in a heartbeat.

in the midst of wanting to crawl into a dark cave and never come out was a little gem – an old chinese song i hadn’t heard in a decade (i was obsessed with the drama it came from). in finding my old blogs i’d found my old likes, my old hobbies, my old life.

i remember scheduling my days around tv programmes (looking at you, 1pm fairly odd parents and 2pm spongebob squarepants). i remember the “long” walks home in the blinding hot sun with my grandpa by my side, carrying both my school bag and the lunch he’d bought for me (always sweet and sour pork with rice from block 313, in that little white cardboard box in that little red plastic bag, always, always) without any complaint. sometimes he’d even be holding his little silver/blue umbrella to shield me and my purple ice pop from the sun. i really was a little princess back then.

i remember so much. i remember getting excited whenever my mom or dad or siblings or maid managed to catch a caterpillar from our house plants and present it to me. i remember watching the caterpillars form cocoons and emerge as small beautiful butterflies. i remember rushing down to the playground with the rainbow slide (with phone numbers scribbled in ballpoint blue on the inside, of course) and excitedly telling my friends about the new butterflies i’d let free. i remember running to the prata shop with the nice uncles with my friends and ordering 2 kosong prata with my grandpa right there to make sure we (or he, i guess) could pay.

i remember the same friends making fun of the prata shop uncles because of their skin colour. i remember being very upset and scolding them in all the rage a 5-year-old could muster. i remember losing my friends, and i remember crying to my grandpa afterwards. i remember my grandpa telling me i didn’t do anything wrong. i remember my grandpa playing with me down at the playground every single day afterwards.

i remember that i thought he was the strongest person in the world, because he could hoist me all the way up on the seesaw with no effort at all. i remember running back home to see my grandma’s brown rice porridge (with pork ribs and carrots and spinach all blended through; i used to hate it but now i crave it with a passion) sitting all hot and steamy on the flowery plastic tablecloth we draped over our wooden table (it now sits bare and lacquer-shiny). i remember my grandma telling me to rest for a bit before eating because i “couldn’t eat hot things while i myself was hot”. i remember wanting to sneak chocolate milk onto the dining table, and i remember my grandma telling me ten thousand times over that “吃饭时只能喝水还是喝茶。” i remember being really sad because i wanted to drink chocolate milk about ten times a day.

i remember that she’d let me drink it afterwards (sometimes she’d make me drink yakult/vitagen).

i miss how simple and carefree those days were. i guess it did come with a price. i was sheltered, ignorant, unobservant back then. i didn’t know anything beyond my little life, my little head. i didn’t want to know anything beyond that. i just wanted to stay there. i just wanted to stay content.

if you could bring me back, strip me bare and bring me back to those times, i’d appreciate so much more of what i had. i miss my grandparents daily, like an ache. winter was extremely painful because i missed their hugs and their warmth (literally and figuratively), but spring is even more painful because i see the beauty of the flowers out here and i wish i could bring them here. i wish they could see what i see everyday.

my grandma loves flowers. she adores them. and they’re so beautiful and so cheap here. she loves all plants and i am learning about plants right now, about how they develop and grow and be, and i wish i could tell her, share this marvel with her, because i just know she’ll laugh and comment on how wonderful the world is.

i think my grandparents were the ones who taught me how to see the beauty in nature.

i can’t want to go home to them. being reminded of my primary school life just reminded me so much of my grandparents. it reminded me so much of how much of themselves they’ve given to me, and i’m so so so happy that i’m able to be where i am today. because of them. i love them so much, and i don’t tell them enough and i know this, and i’m not the best granddaughter but i’m their granddaughter, through and through, and i will always be theirs and i hope that’s enough.

i’ll do my best. every time i am reminded of them i am motivated to give my all to my cause, because they gave me everything they could (and more) back when i needed it and i would be a fool to throw anything away. i’ll grow and i’ll learn and i’ll be patient, like they were with me, and i’ll be grateful, so fucking grateful, because they did not have to give me such a perfect love, and they still did. and they still do.

外公外婆,珊珊超爱你们。我好想念你们。好期待回家吃外婆煮的娘儿咖喱,好期待回家为你们买好多好多的“九格”本子(我已经有三本了。到现在我还不知道怎么寄回家)。多两个月我就会飞回来了,等等我吧。我爱你 ❤

yeah, my chinese is still shit but i’ll work on it. i miss them so much, and i am so looking forward to seeing them again, but until then, i’ll do what they’ve always taught me to do — be strong and make the most of everything i have.

see you soon with another post!!


hollowed out


so if you know me at all, you know that about 99% of the time i’m extremely, over-the-top melodramatic. and emotional. and that i feel too much and talk too much and have too many thoughts.

but then, about 1% of the time, i feel absolutely nothing.

i feel completely hollowed out, like someone’s taken a spoon to my husk and scraped, scraped, scraped against it until everything’s spilled out.

no drive, no emotion, no feeling, no desire, no nothing. no excitement, no disappointment, just. a husk. a shell.

it’s numbing, and dulling, and it’s scary because i’m used to feeling so overwhelmingly much, and now i’ve felt nothing for days and i can’t escape it. it usually goes away on its own.

sometimes, in and out, i feel like i’m not even in real life.

like the real me’s trapped in that dream where i’m serving one of my best friends at (what used to be?) my favourite restaurant. like i left part of my soul in that non-existent, fictional, conjured-up ideal where i’d be content, satisfied, settled.

i really, really did not want to leave that dream.

reality’s painful. reality’s haunting. reality’s grey, not azure, it’s whitewash, not lacquer. 99% of the time i don’t really think that. 99% of the time i try my utmost to find that flame, that burning in me to look at reality and love it because it’s all i’ve truly got. and if i don’t make the most of it, then what the fuck am i doing? condemning myself to feeling miserable in an inevitable circumstance when i could make it better just seems absolutely nonsensical to me.

but i’m not in that 99% now. i’m in that 1%. okay, maybe ive exaggerated. maybe it isnt 99% and 1%. it’s more of 70% and 30%. and right now i’m in the 30%.

i just want time to stop. i want to walk around, frozen in time, and try to feel real again. i dont know if it’s the depersonalization or whatever talking, but i dont feel quite here now. and i wish i did. i wish i could be normal again.

i havent felt normal in a while.

see you soon.




procrastination time strikes again!!!!

quick post about how italy was absolutely amazing. here are a few things i thoroughly enjoyed:

  1. walking through venice on my own with 6% of phone battery (& hence no more google maps) left to find a baguette for my friends to have for breakfast. i walked from our airbnb, snug in the middle of a piece of venice, right out to the main canal where gondolas and water buses awaited. needless to say, that 40min walk all around venice was incredibly confusing, but it was also extremely fun. i ended up buying a 89cent baguette from SPAR instead of Coop which i tried to go to. i think my point of pride is that i managed to do all this in my pjs, glasses & coat (i looked ridiculous) & still got home before my friends were awake
  2. burano. so beautiful. gorgeous and gorgeous and i imagined myself retiring there even. it’s so touristy though, maybe mazzorbo would be better. the small, tiny, narrow canals and the small, narrow, tiny bridges were so adorable, but i suppose without the sun illuminating the bright house-fronts it’d be a little boring.
  3. basilica in san marco’s square – absolutely magnificent. i wish so much that i could’ve walked across the old stone walkways littered throughout the basilica, that i could somehow travel back in time and sit in mass (still not catholic) and attend ceremonies in such a grand building. i also wish i could’ve seen it quiet and dim, when everyone’d gone home. i think that’s when you can fully appreciate (& notice!) everything. alas, i am but a mere tourist.
  4. the weather. oh goodness, it was such gorgeous weather the entire time — i could wear a skirt!! and i could jump in the lake (sort of, i froze afterwards)!! it was so beautiful i could’ve cried for the sun. in my mind i think i’ve become more tan, but until anyone comments on it i won’t assume i have. i’d like to think i have. i really want to be tan again.
  5. lake garda — so, so, so, so ethereal. when i saw the towering mountains i felt my heart swell, and when i saw the shining lake i felt my spirits soar. i hadn’t been so happy in such a long, long, long time. i really did miss this natural landscaping, this clear, marvelous work of the earth. i still cannot wholly believe that i was there, that i was physically there, with my feet in the water as my friends paddled the boat (i took my turn too, totally killed my legs), that i got to go out into the lake and stroke the clear waves with my bare hands under a sun that didn’t beat too harshly down on us. i’d never felt this before in my life and i already miss it like i’m missing a limb. i ache so much to be back in nature. i hardly ever realise it daily because of how cooped up i am and how “distant” i am to parks, to lakes, to mountains, but i think i’ve gotta suck it up and go immerse myself every once in a while. i can’t be always walking around cobbled streets and paved roads. a girl’s gotta breathe sometimes.
  6. the food. gelato, of course, gets a massive shout — i ate it every single day (im pretty sure i did) and i do not regret a single bite. special mention to suso for having peanut ice cream, that made my entire trip. also grom had amazing pistachio ice cream. i’ve also discovered a new love — gnocchi. in particular, the mascarpone & rocket gnocchi i had on lake garda. so soft, with such good bite. ugh. i really loved that gnocchi. i really want gnocchi again. 100% would marry anyone who made me gnocchi that tasted as good (or better) than that one. so good.
  7. spending time with my friends. goes without saying, i enjoyed my friends’ company immensely during this trip. although i was sleeping half the time (sorry i tend to sleep a lot), i am infinitely grateful to my friends for this wonderful trip. wouldn’t have had such a great time if not for them, and i definitely wouldn’t have cannon-balled into ice-cold water if not for them either. thank you, tom, eunice, jin & christine, for making this trip nothing short of great. you guys are pretty cool.

that concludes my (not quick, not short) italy trip, sort of. there’s still a lot we did that i loved that didn’t make it up there (e.g. finding specific gelato shops just because we only wanted to eat really good gelato), but if i find a place to keep it, i will.

see you soon with another post, and good luck to all those having exams soon!! we can do it (:


p.s. a photo for the road


memento mori

i know i’ve said this before.

i know i’ve talked about this before.

but sometimes i have to remember. remember that i have to die.

so that i can stop wallowing and try to drag, pull, yank myself out from the abyss i walked into.

i’m going to die. and i better be the one who chooses how. i better carry out all my jobs and chores and duties and responsibilities to the best i can before i finally fall.

it’s so easy to fall.

in the interest of honesty, i sometimes wish i had fallen all those years ago.

but since i haven’t. since i’ve used those stolen years to consume resources, to burn glucose monomers into ATP and since i’ve bombarded myself with tasks to give back what i’ve taken, what i’ve so selfishly taken —

i better. i better. i better do the absolute best i can.

memento mori.

see you soon.



i found a very (very) old poem (im p sure i wrote it 2 years ago) and decided to finish it. first 2 stanzas were written by past!sonia & the rest are by current!sonia

you speak of him like he’s the cross round your neck
little tiny glints of silver and you’re tied to him for life
your voice that gleams, full of mirth, you say he set you free
but i see your lips tremble, see you’re trembling ‘fore me

he looks at you like you’re gossamer and he’s gold
thinks you need him, but angel you truly don’t
you’re made of starshine, of dust and clouds
you don’t need that inferno bringing you down

for now it’s clear that your eyes don’t see
the raging cumulus cloud that’s hanging over top
your ears are deaf to the thunder brewing,
and he wraps you ’round him, can’t get a clear shot

angel, you think he’s the Sun you chose to orbit
and yes, he burns hot, burns and burns so that you feel it
but he’s not a star, he’s not the celestial in your mind
and he’s certainly not got the love you want to find

so take your wings and mend them slowly,
take your strength and grow it patiently,
for your halo sits atop a mighty soul
and he doesn’t deserve you —

not while his heart bleeds cold.

o wow okie catharsis achieved. see u soon maybe


role: sober insomniac


so last night, i went out clubbing with my friends. first off, i really liked my dress. im probably gonna wear it out a lot more, and finallyfinally i have a red dress — bless.

okay, anyway, tiny half-assed poem as usual. *cracks knuckles*

the lights were too bright,
the wait way too long.

i wanna be on the floor,
be with the music alone.

there’s no easy way to move,
(don’t like his arm around my waist)
the beats obscure their voices,
while i try to find a familiar face.

there’s a lot of moving in here,
lots of holding hands and dresses.
don’t grab my neck, just grab my neck,
think i’m too used to these fleeting pressures.

you lean in close, i’ll tilt my head –
looking for a girl on her own –
and when i find her, to her i’ll go
won’t hear you over the speaker’s groan.

there’s this other girl i love,
and she’s sometimes on her feet.
but when i get to her (and i will)
i’ll be listening to her heartbeat.

her body hums like a symphony
and her smile’s sometimes too sad
i want to right the wrongs they’ve done
never want her to feel neglect

when i hold her i want the world to stop
to let her be in my arms forever
“i won’t let the world hurt you” i lie
her burdens are light as a feather

my arms aren’t the walls she needs
they aren’t the strength that’s inside her
she’s good and brave and all that’s right
wish she’d wake up a believer

there isn’t a thing i wouldn’t do
to have her say “i love me” sober
there isn’t a sea i wouldn’t cross
if that could make her happier

but the lights are too bright,
and the vodka’s all but gone.
the night’s cold, the music dim,
don’t know how long this’ll go on.

i watch her leave, i want to follow
but there are places even i can’t go.
so i hope in my heart she’ll be alright
that she’ll wake up safe tomorrow.

whew. that turned out kinda solemn. but yeah. maybe i love my friends too much??

see you (soon maybe) with another post. have a great weekend, and happy chinese new year to all my chinese friends (: have a great year of the dog everyone!!