I found Nemo!

I had a couple bad days last week. I want to blame PMS for the emotional roller coaster, but it feels like a cop out. I’m sure it played into it. I do get a little batshit crazy or insanely emotional over the couple days leading up to my period. Some months are easier than others because when I anticipate the PMS and the emotional roller coaster, I can control it.

But last week, I cried at a commercial that involved dogs and babies. I also cried so much while watching episode 8 from the new season of Westworld the week before. I mean, no spoilers, but if you know me enough, stories about (lost) love is my shit. I live for it. It was no surprise I enjoyed that episode. But I carried the emotions from watching that episode over to the new week and well… emotions and hormones plus dogs and babies?

Also some other things that I’ve kept bottled up inside resurfaced and I was overwhelmed with my own crazy thoughts. I feel lucky to have a friend who suggested going to Mount Nemo to clear my head and also do a Canadian summer activity at the same time.

After a short shift at the restaurant, I went home, slathered sunscreen on my skin, packed both of my Swell bottles, strapped on my good old Nikes and went off on a little adventure.

Continue reading “I found Nemo!”

Travelling Between Worlds

Moving at seventeen made the experience of growing up different. Flying halfway across the world to start a new life wasn’t what I had planned. But then did I really have any real plans at seventeen? I laugh at myself when I recall the plans and goals seventeen-year-old me wanted for myself in ten years.


The funny thing about making plans is that once you make them, life gives you a reality check with a big ‘NO’. No, you will not end up with your high school sweetheart. No, you will have to earn your own money if you want to buy new things for yourself. No, you will not be married with a kid on the way by 27. No, you will not be the engineer your parents wanted you to be. No, you will not live the rest of your life in the same country you were born in. No, your life won’t be the same, comfortable one you’ve been living for seventeen years.

It was the literal manifestation of the old cliché: when one door closes, another opens

I hated it at the beginning. My first few years were horrible because I still held on to the goals and dreams I had back then, but later on I realized life had something else in store. Continue reading “Travelling Between Worlds”

Escaping out the ‘Fire Exit’

[Trigger Warning: self-harm]

No Exit is the first existentialist work I’ve read by Jean-Paul Sartre. I had to read it for a philosophy class in my second year, and it acknowledged my idea of an afterlife that is pretty much in limbo. It’s about three damned souls in a hotel room, waiting for the punishment of the sins they’ve committed when they were alive. Only there was no fiery abyss, no torture chamber… so what was the punishment? I remember one line that read:

“Hell is other people”

And they’re meant to basically suffer in each other’s company for all eternity. They’re dead, so they cannot die again even if they stab themselves over and over. Shit like that can drive you mad. At least I believe so.

And as the title suggests, there’s no exit. No end to their suffering.

There are many moments I find myself searching for an escape.
Continue reading “Escaping out the ‘Fire Exit’”

Just (burning) desserts.

You know pain the same way you know falling in love. All too well. And it has left you bruised up and broken like a busted light bulb unable to radiate once again. You know you can’t because you tried. The last few times, you were able to flicker, but the brightness did not last long enough. It may have lasted years, but the light died down. It seems to always return to darkness in the end and you have to unplug.

You’ve had that image of that broken light in you all this time. You’ve been carrying it with you since you flew to this crazy, cold country. That’s why it didn’t scare you to try and shop around for new things. Something that might bring that spark back up? You’re just going to test things out. You weren’t scared because you knew there’s nothing in you left to break.

Your heart had been broken years ago and it has stayed that way since. You believe you’ve had the love of your life, and it went to shit. Everything and every one else after could not compare, even though they’ve tried. You’ve tried too.

He was like you’ve tasted the best cake you’ve ever had. Perfect flavour, ideal consistency. But you had to give it up because that cake was damaging you in ways you didn’t realize until it was too late. That cake is the reason you still struggle with your own self-esteem. He wasn’t as great as you thought because he made you feel like shit. So you moved on, knowing you would never have that cake again, and you could go for ice cream instead anyway.

The problem is: you tasted one delicious ice cream that puts others to shame. Or was it more of an ice cream cake? You felt like it was an upgrade to your favourite cake, and it was satisfying. You had to have more, so you did. You forgot about what worries you had, let your walls down, and went in one spoonful at a time.

But like the cake before it, it consumed you as you consumed it. You’ve never had a healthy relationship with dessert. But you cannot put the spoon down. You’re pissed. You swear off all desserts, but you know yourself… You may be able to give up cake or ice cream, but you will always look for something sweet eventually.

So right now, you are frustrated at the thought of more dessert. But look at it this way. This feeling, that anger. That is proof you’ve still got something left in you to feel. You’re not as empty as you thought you were. You’ve still got a heart. It’s not as perfect as before, and others may break it today or tomorrow… but there’s still a spark left in you, so you can’t just give up.

Darling, you cannot play with fire without eventually getting yourself burned. Scorched. Charred.


Excerpt #02

This is taken directly from a very short, 1200-word story I wrote for my creative writing class last semester.

I dare not publish the whole thing because this shit is basically autobiographical and I am not ready to admit to the world where I (specifically) got my inspiration-slash-foundation from. If anyone knows my story, the omitted paragraphs will definitely give it away, and I don’t want that. No. You don’t get to know this story began with you. Not yet. Not today.

You don’t even clock in thirty hours a week at the restaurant you work at. Sure, you can make bank on tips during weekends, but at what cost? You hardly have the energy to practice your writing at the end of a 12-hour day. Your how-to books on writing are all over the floor. You can’t even afford a new bookshelf. Your mail is on the floor too, right beside the take-out box from that Chinese place you ordered from last night. Is that a stain on the carpet? Has it been always there? And what is that smell? Is it coming from the garbage or the fridge? Your place looks like a dump—oh, honey, just face it. Your life is a goddamn mess! Fix it!

Continue reading “Excerpt #02”

I wrote something, and it’s online.

As part of an assignment for my Urban Literatures class, I had to make a short creative piece. I’m not one to finish a creative anything–not even a short poem. This assignment, I found, harder to brainstorm than the 1500-word essays I had to do on the regular.

The instructions were simple: find a location in the novel In the Skin of a Lion by Michael Ondaatje and integrate it in the piece. The novel is set in Toronto, and some landmarks like the Waterworks, the Bloor Viaduct, and Union Station are in it. I would have loved to see the Bloor Viaduct and read a passage from the novel inscripted (is that a word?) on a part of the bridge, but it’s winter and out of my way. I pass through Union during my daily commute, so obviously I choose the convenient location.

I assume half of my class would use Union, so I had to figure some way to be kind of different. At least try. Hell, I need that 10% to boost my mark. Continue reading “I wrote something, and it’s online.”

It’s Tolkien Reading Day!

March 25th is Tolkien Reading Day! So to celebrate the brilliant writer, poet, philologist, professor, and creator of the magnificent world of Middle Earth, I’d like to share one of the quotes I love most from The Fellowship of the Ring:

ICYMI, the quote is a variation of the same song that Bilbo sings during his journey back to the Shire in The Hobbit, then he sings it again Continue reading “It’s Tolkien Reading Day!”