Thursday, 22 March 2018

Getting Help

I feel miserable all the time.

I'm going to see the doctors on Monday. I need help. But more importantly, I want help.

My deep sadness has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. I remember being a deeply sad child. I cried myself to sleep many times.

It affecting my work.

And I wish I cared about my well-being for my own sake. But the truth is, it's stopping me from doing things that I want to do. Or maybe I'm just lazy and there's nothing stopping me from doing what I want to do?

I'm not sure, but I don't want this guilt, or self-pity, or self-doubt to hang over everything I do.

I want to talk to a professional.

Wish me luck x 

Wednesday, 14 February 2018

paralyzing fear

i'm scared that i'm not good enough

i'm scared that not being good enough means being tossed aside; disposable

i'm scared that people will not trust me

i'm scared they'll laugh behind my back

i'm scared they'll laugh to my face

i'm scared of being a disappointment

i'm scared of being yelled at

Monday, 12 February 2018

my crutch

when i feel really lonely (like tonight when i'm listening to the sad brooke fraser songs and reflecting on my trip to samoa and missing it), there are several habits i am tempted (and have succumed to) to quench the loneliness. i'm writing this out so that i get to acknowledge out loud, to myself (and my hundreds of readers lol) that these are real temptations but maybe don't indulge in them.

1. fuckbois.
there are a handful of guys who have given me attention and because they do, i feel wanted, attractive, and important. they're a nice quick fix, though they don't truly respect me (judging by how they treat me). but they fulfill their purpose and i end up paying the price of having interacted with a fuckboi.

2. drunk texting/calling exes
my exes are quite lovely dudes and will always, in good nature, at least reply with kindness and say they hope i'm okay. is there a such thing a fuckgirl cos that's what i may be to them.

3. maybe this should've gone before the previous point, but: drinking
drinking when lonely and sad only deepens the feelings of loneliness and sadness for me. drinking is at its funnest with my friends and cousins, and if those aren't the circumstances, probs should not aye.

4. god
for believers, this may be offensive to list god, under the same place where fuckbois are, but hear me out (feel free to stone me and/or pray for me afterwards). from my experience of Christianity, god is promised to never leave me nor forsake me and love me unconditionally, and these terms sound so alluring when i'm most vulnerable. but in these times, like right now, its hard to remember that i was in my most depressive low when i was a part of the church, i was always compromising myself, and i felt like i could trust no one, not really. gossip flowed through the church like in any other social group, so it was hard to open up about the darkest, most shameful sins, the secret ones when no one is looking. but beyond the church (people recommend i haven't found the right one), i was faking my connection to god a lot of the time. i knew the right things to say when it was my turn to pray and was more interested in being a good christian than finding true peace. i'm at my most peaceful, most self-loving, most compassionate now that i'm not a believer. but when i'm lonely, i think, maybe i should just go to god, forgetting how my life "with Him", didn't bring me true, lasting, comfort.

hahahaha didn't realise this was gonna lowkey be a blog about my hangups with christianity. eka.

Thursday, 1 February 2018

ever after

You made me laugh till my insides hurt and a fart threatened to escape. You would talk, with your accent and sarcasm and I try not to think about how clever and stupid you were at the same time.

I want to send you a text but it's 1:00am. I don't want you to think I only think of you at booty call times, when I actually think about you all damn day.

I have two objects that remind me of you. One was yours that I borrowed and never returned, and the other a gift from you. They are loaded with meaning and beauty and pain and I'm glad they're just regular things that I can carry in my bag, always inconspicuously carrying a piece of you.

I talk about you all the time, but I make sure that I spread my stories out to many different friends so no one can put together the exact number of times I think about you. I even change your codename with each person, just in case.

I always play in my head, obsessively, a romance moment in which you show up and I'm all what-are-you-doing here. Maybe its raining for added effect. You tell me there's something you need to tell me. I say, then you can just text or call me. You say, no, I need to tell you in person. My heart thumps, hoping its what I want to hear. You struggle to find the words. I force myself to be patient. You say, I'll just say it, I'm in love with you. I've always been in love with you. Ever since the day I gave you my number, and you made a bad joke, and no one laughed, I knew I loved you.

Then you dry off and we live happily ever after.

Tuesday, 30 January 2018


poems, i feel, are usually selfish

they hide their meanings

they use phrases and imagery that confuse

and at the end i'm thinking,

so what?

why do you require so much from me, the reader?

why must you play hard to get?

cos all i feel is dumb now,

dumb that i don't get you.

but when i do get you

boy oh boy what a treat.

the fun is in the catch, no matter what they say

Wednesday, 6 December 2017


i think and think and think and think and think

and when i go to write...



Sunday, 3 December 2017


i've returned home. home.

i feel like i'm reverting back to my eighteen year old self.

but i'm not that person... i've grown... haven't i?

Saturday, 18 November 2017

trying to get unstuck

there are competing thoughts in my head:

- you don't know enough to disseminate your thoughts

- writing is just a way to think out loud, not preach to a congregation

- none of your thoughts are original

- no one's thoughts are

- white people will laugh at you

- well, if you're afraid of that, might as well do nothing

- people will laugh at you, of all races

- isn't that comforting? knowing you'll be laughed at regardless?

- also, people may not laugh, they may not care at all

- but there will be people who do, people who need you to do what you need to do. it's not to boost your ego laura, it's to remind you that what you do is not just about you, it never was.

- just do the thing.

- send the email, write the pieces, submit them, hope for the best

- you've survived heartbreaking rejection before, you can survive professional rejection also (emotionally i mean, maybe panic a liiiiiittle cos you need $$$$$ lol)

- you've got this.

Friday, 10 November 2017


i had a really vivid heartbreaking dream last night. at times i would be a character within the story and other times i would be a third-person observer watching the story. i woke up with wet eyes. i quickly wrote down everything i could remember from the dream, crying as i was writing.

sharing love actually references with my sister involved some of my most creative writing i've liked in a g e s. we've watched that movie so many times, we find humour in the weirdest details that we've had the luxury of looking out for over the nine or so years... wait, HOW old is this movie??? i mean, 14ish years that we've been watching it....? what the.

a friend shared this poem that his friend wrote, about fa'alavelave. i almost cried but held it in because i didn't want my palagi friend to ask me if i was okay / whats wrong, cos then i'd cry uglier. so i just commented, shared it on facebook and twitter, and went to my room and cried.

i shared a screenshot of messages between a friend and i on twitter. our love is a deep one. i would even call it passionate. its enthusiastic, honest, and the stand-in for therapy at times because we both can't afford therapy (and/too lazy to look about how to access it for free / cheap). one part of me feels like exposing such meaningful message ~cheapens~ it somehow. by making public what is so beautiful in private is cheating it. but another part of me wants to post it in a public platform for me to revisit and see again and again. and possibly someone else to see it and maybe be inspired by our love?

a friend shared my article i wrote in the the final issue of Salient 2017 on facebook. i had such deep self-doubt regarding that article, i felt unispired, the piece felt fake. but she loves it. and i almost cried reading it.

i'm reading Sado and editing my Dear Dick letter and feeling so many emotions today. it's quite overwhelming and almost anything will make me cry.

but it's such a welcome from the numb state i've been in.