Dream log #25

There’s a huge wedding of this extremely rich and obnoxious man, and he looked Northern Indian. For some reason their wedding was held in an old city in japan.

They were being carried around on large structures and they sat on them like royalty. But suddenly there’s a commotion and people started running. The man was then told that they would carry him over to the commotion to handle it since he was in charge, but he was a coward and wanted to run away at first. His wife was pretty disgusted with him.

Anyways they rush him over to the largest temple hall in the middle of the place, and there was a big crowd in it, everyone wielding some sort of weapon. In the middle of the hall was this gigantic stone structure, it looked kinda like a mix of a lion, a tiger and an African tribe symbol.

It spoke something in a really deep, resounding growl, and it rang pure evil.

I think the man went and took the largest weapon he could find in the temple, it was this large wooden sword. But at this point my dream didn’t follow him any more and I was an actual physical presence in it.

This monster was really viscous, and a brave man charged up to him with his wooden stick, but the only thing I saw from amongst the crowd was his limp figure flying into the air and landing with a dead thud on the floor.

From that moment, in my head, I desperately wanted to be a hero and give killing the monster a shot, but then I was too much of a coward, and I ended up trying my best to not be seen by the monster. I hid behind the temple curtains, behind pillars, crouched down so low, while people started trying to kill the thing.

The ones who did met with the same fate as the first.

I managed to sneak out of the temple hall, and outside, it was completely empty. I looked back inside and the temple hall was suddenly completely empty as well.

I was alone, and when I looked closely, there were other such stone statues moving around, and from the corner of my eye I saw the very same lion tiger one, looking at me.

I ran, hoping it didn’t see me, because it wanted to kill the last surviving human but I knew that it was laughing at me and my foolishness.

That was when I woke up.



I think it’s come to a point where I feel completely numb to all these things that I have to do.

I don’t even feel the stress anymore.

And I don’t think I feel any passion either.

I’m just going about it doing whatever I can and hope that it’s enough.

It’s kinda sad, but I feel a kind of peace.

But this is the dead kind of peace.

I can tell.


Sometimes I get to see a reflection that’s clear

When my own fingers hover inches off the surface

When the ripples of my disturbance slowly fade away,

I get to see that distortion is a lie

and pretty is just a name

Hold on

You know how they say the person who could make you the happiest could also make you suffer the worst pain?

It feels quite scary holding onto someone’s vulnerability.

Especially if you’re holding onto many things at once.

What if you accidentally trip? And it comes slipping from your grasp?

Sometimes I’m just afraid of what I can inflict with what I hold.

And sometimes I don’t even know the extent of how much I’m holding.

I probably need to do a reality check.

And also, I don’t dare to put myself in that state of vulnerability again. it’s stupid, it’s stupid, it’s really dumb.

I know.

I just realised, it’s really kinda like a switch.

Just that, I won’t make the mistake of giving up, letting go, feeling overwhelmed and scared.

I’ll embrace it. I’ll love it. I won’t push it away because of my selfishness.

I will not be afraid.

I know how you feel, I really do. I think I was there once.

Somehow I’ll get over this and it’ll be okay.

I can’t bear to lose you knowing I was too late.

Yeah, you shouldn’t hold onto the thing so dear to you that lightly. You should grasp onto it tightly, you should never let it go. You should keep it so snug in your arms that it’ll always feel safe, and that it’ll never be afraid of falling in shattered pieces to the ground. It doesn’t deserve any less.

Dream Log #can’t remember

I heard some crackling sound and woke up, looked at the floor on my bedside and found this cockroach squirting out mucus and gas all over the floor.

But that wasn’t it, because a whole colony of baby cockroaches started coming out from it and I screamed and screamed for my parents, “Mummy!”, “Daddy!” Over and over again but the door was closed so it would have been hard for me to hear them.

Then I couldn’t take it anymore, jumped out of bed and bolted out of my room and into theirs but that was when I woke up, still checking if my room had any cockroaches.

I realise, at the most desparate of situations I used to call my parents, scream for them, cry for them, but now I realise I don’t do that anymore.

Now I try my best to keep my cries hidden, my tears hidden. I’d cover my mouth and try not to scream.

When did it all become like this?

But God, as I thought more about it, I’m just really thankful that at the very least, you’ve place people around me so that I wouldn’t be completely alone. I guess I should be thankful for this breaking point, because it might have just saved me from something worse.


bursting at the seams sometimes.

I need someone to sew them back.

Help me, God, to not destroy myself,

or friendships with those around me

in the end,

the worst thing is that I have no one to blame except for myself.

It’s our fault

When someone says ,”it’s my fault not yours.” Honestly, that would make you feel even worse wouldn’t it? Because in every conflict I’m sure it goes both ways. (Unless the other person left the heater on for too long and the electricity bill explodes)

And usually I’d be the first to be passive aggressive and go all out saying,” NO it’s MY FAULT”

But in arguments I would think that it takes two to clap.

“it’s our fault”

I think that helps bridge it a little more.


I was working on my essay when suddenly my phone rang and her name flashed on my screen and I was in shock because it was 11:30pm.

When I picked up she asked me about class tomorrow, but suddenly she broke into soft sobs and I kinda think I knew what happened.

Hearing her, my heart kind of seized up a bit and became cold. I didn’t want to feel anything. Because I didn’t want to taste that pain again. Then she told me about how she’s sick of guys who have been so effected by past relationships that they can no longer function properly in a present one. And I just told her that I hope their story doesn’t become hers.

Thing is, she always gives her 100% in any relationship she comes across. Even if it’s just been a month. but of course, it’s hard to come by people who’d give that back.

And honestly, it must hurt when people don’t love you as much as you do. I think it makes you feel small, insignificant, it makes your love, precious in your eyes, a burden in another. For a precious gift to be trampled upon, and to watch it being tossed aside like it’s nothing, I think it must have felt like that for her.

What’s worse is that these people are the only source of love she wants to receive from, and the only ones she would give hers to. People who leave, who don’t care after a while, and people who don’t see and understand all that she gives.

The heart is so fragile. I don’t think anyone’s allowed themselves to be heard by me, crying so brokenly and desparately before. I feel really, really honoured, however sadistic that may sound (ITS NOT). What I’m really honoured by how much she trusted me I guess.

It must do something to your heart, going through experiences like these again and again. Sometimes, from hearing all these stories, it seems like entering into a relationship is like a young, naive bunny hopping unknowingly into a dark, misty forest infested with starving wolves. Make that rabbit blind too.

What a terrible analogy.