傻瓜我們都一樣 �…

傻瓜我們都一樣　被愛情傷了又傷
相信這個他不一樣　卻又再一次受傷
傻瓜我們都一樣　受了傷卻不投降
相信付出會有代價　代價只是一句傻瓜

Break My Soul – Hybrid

Buried like a splinter
Rips apart like paper
Blows away like ashes in my hands
No I won’t see you later
Go build another castle out of sand
Like ashes in my hands

I’m not drowning in your sea
Believing in you will not be the death of me
Not waiting for the curtain drop
Or waiting for the hurt to stop
Not drowning in a teardrop for your love

Love is worth f…

Love is worth fighting for but sometimes you can’t be the only one fighting.

At times, people need to fight for you.

If they don’t, you just have to move on and realize what you gave them was more than they were willing to give you.

liar liar pants on fire

someone i know is in the papers.

lets see. i know her from 4 years back.

i was working in a cafe. she came in, brought along a friend, did some waitressing. and flew back to melbourne and then back to singapore over the few years.

i saw her in the papers today.

she’s now a chef. i am not surprised. i took over the chefing job that she had vacated for me.

i saw her in the papers today.

and i told myself “well you’re not into fame and fortune, right? so why are you bothered about the article?”

i saw her in the papers today.

and wondered.

if i had started out earlier than her, gone through the same route as her…then why is success elusive?

no, i do not want to be in the papers, fame & fortune i am not hankering after.

but if that’s the case, then why am i not happy?

i am such an awful liar.

stormming in a tea cup

D’s resentment is brewing.

I do not blame him at all.

Mine is as well, except that it has been percolating for so long that it’s tired and is now taking a mini break. But dont be fooled, it is still brewing.

This would be the last time I am working in an indie cafe.

For someone who’d started out her roots at an indie cafe, this seemed rather callous and even cold-hearted – as if I am betraying the very hands that had once fed me.

But perhaps I had indeed grown too big for my shoes. Or perhaps after seeing more of this culinary world, I am greedy for more.

Perhaps being nestled in tiny indie cafe and having to blaze through non-existent systems is tiring.

Perhaps  being fully prepared with full mise en place + zero customers is tiring.

Perhaps after giving so much more and having nothing in return is tiring.

Perhaps the fire inside is slowly burning out.

And we need somewhere else to bring us back to life again.

And perhaps this is not the place to be.

in an alternate universe

this is me

 

 

We all dream.

rip

i dont know who you are prior to today.

but RIP.

payphone

If happy ever after did exist

I would still be holding you like this

All those fairy tales are full of shit

One more fucking love song I’ll be sick

existentially existing

my existential angst is back.

its not as bad as the one 7 years ago that lead to the Great Depression though.

but its bad.

i break down in the middle of the night. feeling hopeless that i cant seem to navigate beyond this current life. its like being stuck at level 7 of a computer game, endlessly playing level 7 over and over again when all you want to do is to proceed to level 8.

i go to work with glazed eyes, merely functioning. without really basking in joy.

i was even able to monitor the number of times i had smiled recently. hardly. i hardly smiled.

i hate this. i hate this.

i feel as if i am stuck exactly where i was 4 years ago. different job, same shite, same cycle.

and its so blardy frustrating.

today i was so filled with rage that if that my life is morphed as a human being in front of me, i would have kicked at it endlessly, fiercely, mercilessly. this is the extent of my rage.

i need to find endorphins soon.

love rain

Someone’s beginning is someone’s ending.

It took me three seconds to love someone for the first time.

But to stop loving someone, it was impossible in just three seconds.

On that day someone was a coward.

Someone was honest.

Someone’s heart fluttered.