I don’t know how else to feel but deep and I feel that one day a dam might just overflow and living my own life is the best thing that I have ever done.

A part of me understands now what it’s like to truly have your own life and not wait for somebody to come rescue you, waiting is a form of self destruction sometimes. Sometimes, you’ll have to take into account the actions you choose to take or not to take.

Maybe, in the end it’s just me who’s really feeling things deeply, or I cannot figure out who’s feeling what and what and so and so anymore.

Just so you know, ich liebe dich, S.

I keep running into different people only to find you. You’re everywhere and everything else. Denying myself the pleasures of loving somebody like you is a stupid thing to do and I should never do that again.



Energetically cutting cords with someone who made you lose a part of yourself, who reinvented your psyche, who made you a mini version of them – that form of intrusion is almost albeit unacceptable but thank the Gods for astrology and understanding some forms of psychic imprint in a person —

Dear God I ask for strength to finally breakthrough and have it all come full circle. It can happen now.

I feel really hot and fiery inside, imploding, fiery pits of dragon hell within the subconscious – so violent, controllable but strong – what is this? Serpent? Kundalini?

What is cutting cords? Burning bridges what is it that I have to do?

Mini Goals to Self Love

Loving you with this state of mind, can’t slow down, must breathe, must keep going, time does not wait, empowerment is now. What I tell you three times is true.

Tycho’s Daydream is pushing me to finish up my art as well. To do things:

  1. Transcribe lists
  2. Finishing that piece of art
  3. Sleep

These goals seem so easy but if you’re putting your heart and soul into every single it of it, you’ll realize it takes longer than it should. Time estimations weren’t always my forte, I always liked to overestimate.


Try again, hoping that all this will make me stronger, and rise up to be the woman who can support you until the end.

I wish you’d read this. I’m not that vulnerable, I fall but rise again, I have tides like the ocean. Cancer, moving, nurturing.

You don’t have to do all the work you know, that’s what partners are for, dividing the load, making the road easier.

I wish to walk up to you sober and tell you those three words without you flinching. Hold your ground, don’t be afraid.

I love like a strong woman, that’s who I am.

Can I ever show you my strength without you feeling intimidated? Without you feeling like it’s too much?

You Know Well

Different spectra, perspectives, and you know very well why are you doing this.

Can’t tell you, won’t tell you, for you might run, because you’re not ready to hear it nor are you ready to accept that there’s someone out there who can love you with all that she has.

“I’m doing it out of love and I’m doing it for you.”

But if I’m going to be sane, I’ll see the other side of the coin which is I can use this for my future advantage.


Manchuria – Pt. 1

She was stuck in a rut due to her over-seemingly unhealthy obsession with tinted lip balms. It was overshadowing every single brain cell of hers.

Without second thought, she wrapped her Nepali scarf around her neck, grabbed her wallet, phone and keys, then swiftly stepped out into the cold winter night, fantasizing about the purchase she was about to make as she made her way to the nearby shop.

Unfortunately, as fate would decide, the shop was not open. She grunted in dismay, furious, fuming, and eventually decided to just walk away. Plop plop plop – sounds of her footsteps in the dark, eyes wildly searching for a substitute. And there it was: she stumbled across a Manchurian restaurant – simple but inviting.

She trampled in with strong but swift footsteps, looked at the Indian lady at the counter – slightly shorter than she is, dusky rose skin, friendly and sincere eyes, high pitched voice.

Still squinting scantily across the menu, she ordered for the vegetarian biryani but eventually changed her mind. She ordered egg fried rice instead.

Definitum – her senses did the trick. On the way to fix her lip balm obsession, a whiff of Chinese wok fryings reminded her of her colorful, bustling, city life – somewhere in distant Kuala Lumpur where Chinatown was bursting with affordable and tasty street food.

And then another flashback. Rewinding to what happened a few minutes just before she changed her order —

A little unsure whether she should get something extra, she squinted her eyes trying to read the menu on the headboard.

“Don’t worry maam, I can help you read if you can’t!”, the Indian lady chirped as she inched closer to her, trying to be helpful.

She was then reminded of her mother, who would do the same thing, squinting her eyes and waving her hands in the air, saying “Sorry I can’t see!” and people would always offer their assistance.

Her sister – another story, but often her partner in crime, was more patient than her in many ways, but sometimes they’d shake their heads in unison, signalling that their mother’s actions were not at all necessary.

She understood her mother’s ways now, and the magnetism of being true to your own plight. It never was a rut to be in. Only when you accept your plight, that’s how one stops being in a rut.

Understanding events in a non-linear way was something that she often thought was crazy and illogical, but now it all made sense.—

Staring at the table in front of her, observing the tropical colors used for the painting. There’s always something with gold-linings in oriental paintings instead of silver ones.

“Should we start saying there’s a gold-lining in every situation instead of silver-lining?” She often got carried away with the origin of phrases or words but her thoughts were interrupted when food was ready for takeaway.