Morsels of Daydreams I

There’s something egoistical about owning firsts. Tasting someone’s lips for the first time is sweeter when you hear it’s the receiving party’s first ever. Ripping apart a neat package to inhale a book perfumed with the scent of new. Putting a crack on the smooth surface of a raw egg and seeing a dollop of life that will never be realised falling onto the pillow of fresh flour.

And yet, so vulnerable in losing your own firsts.

If we can treat our thoughts and emotions as accessories, we can choose what we wear every day instead of letting them wear us.

“Free” is oxymoronic.

It means that you don’t have to work for it. It means zero transactions. It means no tethers, no expectations, no consequences.

But the price of “Free” is already baked into the price you’ve paid.

“Free” just makes you forget, at that moment, that you’ve already paid.

It’s funny how we brush our teeth at least twice daily under entirely different conditions. Once at night — after a day of using your mouth extensively. And once in the morning — after a night of not using your mouth at all.

HDB flats are like bookshelves. Every identical unit tells a unique story from the same genre of life.

There’s a certain point in life when you’re afraid of darkness. It could be the aftermath of a horror movie, stories from the streets, or the newspapers.

We fear darkness because we’re stripped of the sense we most rely on, even though it’s not with the eyes that we see most clearly.

We fear darkness because we fear uncertainty. But life is full of uncertainty; that’s why we drown ourselves in whirlpools of routine in a vain attempt to purge uncertainty, not recognising that uncertainty is alive as long as you’ve got a breath left in you.

We fear darkness because our minds brew illusions. But illusions add colours to our lives. They breed movies, music, dance, dramas, books, and the arts that enrich us.

Such is the irony of life.

Cracking open my window every morning and imagine that I’m cracking open a fresh egg to make a sunny-side-up breakfast for my mind.

Are samples more powerful offsprings of their full-sized parents to bait the unsuspecting consumers?

The meditation that brings peace to your heart, calmness to your mind. Eliminating all anxiety along with expectations that swim with it, like tuna with dolphins. The purest form of letting go – even for a fleeting moment, but at that moment, I’m finally enough. The reset button before insanity hits me like a train. Again. A temporary levitation from a ground littered with rusty nails, pointy ends up. When the soul escapes the shell. Constant banging of the door. Non-stop chit-chattering. Hurried shuffling of feet as if there’s anywhere really important to rush to. Water gushing from the tap. Hairdryer blast. Ingredients and recipe of anxiety: gone.

Is it our desire to feel needed or wanted by the world that makes us busy, and not the work itself?

I find myself staring at old couples’ shadows: Will we reach there?

As signs of the past begin wearing off, desperate efforts and struggles begin taking shape to atone for the fading history. A forgotten past is a mistake-in-progress; when we forget, we slip and fall into the abyss of non-remembrance.

You can be in multiple conversations when you’re alone. Not just the one you’re in when you’re with company. Now that’s exciting.

If I were to gain one and lose one hour when I travel, the world is balanced. But if one were to migrate to a country and never fly again, does it mean that one has gained or lost that time difference?

IG stories and TikTok videos are manufactured moments not yours to own. A voyeuristic indulgence.

Morsels of Daydreams II stored here.