Dream log #something

Was in a shopping mall with raymynn and Jolene and some other girls. Raymynn said she wanted to buy a present for her sister, so we went into this really hipster store, with lots of weird artsy things. I saw something that looked like a stone, it had words engraved on top of it, and raymynn immediately said okay I’ll get this. Then I looked carefully at the price and it was more than $800 dollars!! 

When I pointed it out she said “okay nevermind.” And went off to find something else. I wanted to examine the stone a bit more to see why it was so expensive. Turns out it wasn’t stone, but chalk. So I picked it up, there was another long, half moon shaped piece underneath, and another small piece that looked like a reflection of the big chalk. Then there was a sign so I read it. Apparently the artist who made the chalk was telling a story, the big chalk was a boat, and the boat was sinking, and there was a couple on it. The girl drowned, and the words on the boat was something like “don’t leave me behind” but a little more poetic I can’t remember. 

To my horror the chalk split into two right in my fingers. And I held it so gently. I tried to place it back to together so that it looked like nothing ever happened but it took some time. The shopkeeper was looking at me suspiciously and came over. I tried to cover the crack line with my hand and gave it one final squeeze so that the line wouldn’t be so obvious, and then quickly left the shop. I turned around and saw her examining the chalk, and I tried to go into another shop to hide.

But then I heard my name being called out, it was this ang moh lady with long curly hair, and she said “did you break the chalk?”

I wanted to say “no” so badly but somehow I decided not to lie and said “yes, do I need to pay for it?”

And she said, “yes, depending on …(I forgot)…. you might need to pay for half of it or even the whole price”

And I felt so horrified that I woke up at this point and the first thought that came to mine is that I would never pick up anything in a shop ever again.


Fear and anger

Fear and anger seem to go remarkably well.

I had to hide in the cupboard to calm down because I couldn’t close the damned door.

Just the feeling of being in the same air as that person made me feel so sick.

I want to escape but I can’t.

Cry out but what’s the point no one will hear me or help.

I have visions of killing my self or cutting myself and I hate it, but more than that I’m scared.


My grandma just got admitted to hospital. Honestly, I’m not sure how serious it is. No one’s really telling me much. My mom said that it might be some kind of infection. When I heard the doorbell ring, my parents and my grandpa came back, but not my grandma. I was expecting her to be there but she wasn’t. 

Ivy’s mom passed away in a matter of months after she was admitted to hospital. After a whole day of trying not to think about it, suddenly I’m scared. Will I ever go out with my grandma again? How long do I have left? Why do we only treasure things and show people that we treasure them only when there’s a little time left or even if it’s too late?

My parents asked me to choose a book for her to read. And I looked at all my books, wondering what would be nice. And I decided on the time keeper.

The doctors are still testing what’s going on. But I can’t seem to feel like it’s serious. I know we all die one day, but I just can’t imagine my grandparents going. I just can’t. 

But I can’t let these worries fill my head.

I don’t know what to think.


It’s not the first time that I’ve felt this way. All of a sudden, I feel sick, like emotionally sick, a little bit of fear, guilt, disappointment, sadness, and a stabbing pain – a slow kind. It kind of just creeps into my heart, worming its way through like some sort of infestation spreading its diseased roots all over inside me.

That’s how it feels like.

And sometimes it gets to the point where I start heaving. 

I listened to a song by Charlie Lim (how typical) on the bus today and I suddenly got hit by it. And then again today while I was just eating dinner, I had to stop and go to the toilet.

I don’t know what this is. 

And then I feel like writing a song about it. I think this is what I do with my pain – freudianly speaking. Sublimation. 

Recently I’ve been really feeling this strong urge to write songs.

I feel like I can only create things when I’m sad. Which is kind of sad.

But it’s not like I have anything to be sad about. It’s just that I get these flashes of sadness every now and then. They feel like flashbacks, but with no visions. Maybe they’re just emotional flashbacks. 

I feel like I’ve accepted that these feelings will always be here somewhere in my unconsciousness, like they’re a part of me. 

 I don’t actually want them to disappear. Is that weird? 


When you step into the airport it’s such a cool feeling, this huge open space, the echo of people hustling by, luggage wheels going clickity clack and my favourite part – that huge signboard showing all the flights and destinations. I especially like the analog kind, with letters printed on plastic cards, they whirl into whatever is supposed to be spelled. It was really fun watching the cards flip into place just like magic. The digital boards don’t really have the same charm.

The world is just so big yet so small. You could hop onto the other side of the planet in less than a day, but looking out of the plane window, the horizon is barely curved, little lights flickering below, it’s amazing how this one huge hunk of metal can go hurtling through the air so fast that it actually flies.

I was actually up there, above the clouds, that’s amazing to just think about.

Back to the board again. There’re just so many places you could go. Like any of these places being spelled out, all you need is that ticket.

It’s always nice to have somewhere to go.