Monthly Archives: June 2014


I came across my old blog, that I haven’t been to in a while, and I started reading old posts and realized how negative they all were (seriously though, someone should have placed me under suicide watch…which reminds me – I should probably put my iPod on suicide watch, so much angsty music these days, my dear Apple product~). I felt a pang of pity reading what I had written a bit over a year ago. A bit bittersweet at the same time seeing where I am right now though. It’s always nice to be able to see the changes you’ve gone through over a period of time because you’re the last person to be able to see the changes in yourself.

Even though I’m feeling quite embarrassed (highly mortified more like it) going through my past posts, I feel like I should share a bit of it with you. Just be warned that my life was a tad…rough (not like ‘starving African children’ tough but more of a ‘young adults facing first world problems’ tough) back then. I think I was quite emotional (not that I’m not emotional now, I was just more vocal, more expressive, and more…emotional then) and had a lot of things to say about so many things, things that both concerned me and things that did not concern me at all.

31 jan 2012
This was posted on my old blog on the 31st of January 2012, at 1.03 PM. I laughed when I got to the end of that post, like how did I ever manage to be so funny then?! (Oh, I’m such a modest person~) I chose to show  you this post because you know what, I did actually find someone who would “take me away from this hideous place”. That same person who has his arms around me when I wake up in the morning, who kisses me until I wake up, who loves going on adventures with me (even though the adventure that I love to go on the most is a ‘shopping adventure’, which he isn’t too keen on most of the time), who went to the extent of getting another duvet to use in a SINGLE BED  because I kept stealing all the sheets through the night. What I didn’t get was the conquering of three-quarters of the bed cause he has a massive bum and he’ll push me to the wall, hence, me ending up with a mere quarter of the bed. What makes this post more interesting is the fact that I wrote it on the day that I started talking to him. (HEY, TOM! If you’re reading this, I’m talking about you! And yeah, YOU HAVE A MASSIVE BUM!)

feb 18 2013
feb 18 2013 (2)

This was posted on the 18th of February 2013, at 8.17PM. I feel really proud of myself after reading this. I’m usually not very good at putting thoughts onto paper but I think I did a damn good job at conveying my thoughts in this one. And it’s true, it does get better, and I do feel like a much happier person now. I’m not saying you completely forget about the person that you left behind, because you can’t completely forget about someone you’ve known so intimately for a good portion of your life. I don’t think of my ex-boyfriend as a person, I do think about the nice things that we shared before. As much as you don’t want to, you will. You’ll remember all the good memories, the positive things that happened before everything went downhill.

Yeah, of course I hate my ex-boyfriend (after all he had done – or not done – and all the crap that he’s left behind, I’ll be stupid to not hate him!), but its not the sort of hate that consumes me. I just dislike him very, very much.

Also, that post came from a very good place. I had just came back from seeing  Tom and had had a good few weeks with him, and was feeling very settled into my life. My mind wasn’t frazzled, I wasn’t typing out words blindly, I was at peace with myself, because I did find someone much better, much nicer, someone who loved me and was willing help fix me.

11 jan 2013

This was from the 11th of January 2013, 9.17PM. This is just one of the many, many, MANY ‘crazy’ posts that I had written. I was just very emotional then (really?! No fucking way, Emmi!) and I had a lot going on my plate and was quite possibly crying and feeling sad for days on end then. I think I hadn’t feel that awful since the Fall of Emmi back in 2010 (Fall of Emmi…that didn’t come off as funny as it did in my head) which I will touch on (soon, in another post. Maybe. Don’t hold me to that).

I didn’t really have anything to blog about. I just stumbled on my old blog and thought I would share some posts with you because I really do think I’ve changed a lot, even though it’s only been over a year ago. For starters, I don’t feel like committing suicide anymore and  that’s always good!

I probably should go do something productive in the office…like do actual work.



It’s so crazy that we’re already in the last month of June. I wasn’t even bloody prepared for June! I used to hate it when I realized how quickly time was passing cause I had so many things to do, I had so many deadlines, I had so many essays and projects to finish up, so many emails to reply to. Now, I don’t really have much on my hands. I love how I can take it day by day, not having to rush to places, not having to rush for deadlines. I know it’s not an ideal way to live life in Singapore but I like it.

Time passing by quickly also means that I’ll be able to see Tom really soon. I’ve been really excited about packing my luggage (I’m the most unorganized person in the Universe but there’s just this really good feeling you get from packing a luggage…like you know you’ll get to leave the awful place you’re at really soon! ^_^), excited about the thought of being able to parade around in sweaters and wooly tights (Singapore’s weather’s like “sweaters?! HELL NAW!”), and excited about being able  to go to the parks and feed flippping ducks and seagulls!

Work has been a teeny bit better. I’ve got tons more work to do now that they’ve fired one of the Directors of the company along with his secretary (he ran off with a $50k cheque! Why would you do something so stupid like that?!) so I’ve had to pick up the slack around here. I’m not complaining, I mean, I’m absolutely happy that I have actual work to do now. It’s just that I would much rather be in the North of Ireland than here~

I’ve just had lunch and I need to pee so bad but I can’t cause there are maggots crawling all over the floor in the washroom so I ain’t having any of that. I’ve planned on heading into town after work later because I want to spend more money that I don’t have on things that I absolutely don’t need (it’s a flipping gorgeous romper from F21 and I can’t say no).

I’ll be off now for I have a list of things to do (I actually do have a list) today but I’m gonna start by going on Tumblr for maybe 5 minutes (or 3 hours) depending on my mood.


The past week has been amazing mostly due to the fact that I’ve ventured out of my lady-cave (oh how vile and suggestive that sounds, doesn’t it? I am merely  trying to convey the female version of a man-cave but that came out all wrong) and socialized. I made plans with my friends, I made the effort to look nice and I didn’t call them up at the last minute to bail. And I had a lovely time. I should perhaps make more of an effort to interact with civilization seeing how I’m enjoying it a lot.

Also, Tom and I have made plans for me to visit him next month, which is lovely because I’ve not seen him for a good 5 months and that is no way to live really. It hasn’t been set in stone but I’m about 98% sure that I’ll get to spend a bit of the summer with him. It’s always nice to be in the UK in summer when temperatures aren’t in the range of ‘fucking hell this weather is insane I’m staying in’. Summer in the UK also means that I MIGHT not have to pile on more than 2 layers which is great!

I know (from experience) that visiting for short periods of time usually ends in a pool of tears (I cry cause I don’t wanna go home and Tom becomes a wimp and starts crying, too. It’s just a big dramatic mess) and me telling him “I don’t really mind being an illegal immigrant here. JUST LET ME STAY!” But he’ll shoo me into the plane and off I go to Singapore (ie. Ching Chong Land as Tom lovingly calls it).

Ching Chong Land hasn’t been too awful lately. Besides the fact that the temperature is at a steady 32 degrees average even when it’s bloomin’ raining cows, it isn’t all too bad. I met some friends in the past week, I spent money like water on things that I didn’t need but wanted, I ate too much to give a flying fuck, and I met an old friend from years back who said I look much happier now. I don’t know why it means so much to me when people tell me that I look happy, maybe I feel like I need someone, something, to validate the happiness in my life. But I AM happy (even though I’m a kajillion miles away from Tom) and I’m glad that even though I have a lot of depressing internal monologues and even though I seem to be losing it every few days, I’m still able to deal with life and be happy with it.

On a less serious note, I can feel age catching up with me. I may be only 24 but bedtimes at 10pm show otherwise. I used to be able to pull all-nighters and still have energy left to go to work for 10 hours before coming home to die on my bed. When I try to stay up now, it’s usually never past 1am and that’s pretty pathetic if I do say so myself.

I’m currently at work while writing out this post because there’s only so much of ‘doing nothing’ I can do. My eyes are burning cause I’ve been staring at this computer screen for a good 6 hours now. I should go rest my eyes…in the bathroom…maybe have a nap, I don’t know. The possibilities are endless.


Tom and I talk about religion a lot – me being a Muslim by default coming from a Muslim family and him…believing in nothing and everything, a free-thinker. I may be a Muslim but I’m not religious, I’m not a devout Muslim who prays 5 times a day or eats only what she’s supposed to. I don’t believe in a God, though I do believe in a higher power. I feel that people shouldn’t be restricted by religion, that they should live by good morals, do things because you know it’s the right thing to do and not because you have to, cause the Quran says so. Even so, I have no qualms about marrying a non-Muslim.

Which is why, in this day and age, when I come across websites that just come off as vile, I can’t help but to feel…sad. I stumbled upon a site while I was Googling inter-religious marriages and there was a post that were somewhere along the lines of “I’m Muslim and my boyfriend’s Christian. We’re planning to get married and willing too take the relationship further but don’t know how to work the religious differences. What should we do?” And after reading that, I thought “Oh, that’s nice, they’re willing to make it work” but the comments that came after that…wow.

“There is no way to “work” the difference. A Muslim woman cannot marry a non-Muslim man. If he accepts Islam wholeheartedly then you can marry him. Otherwise, there is no future between the two of you. You should not have gotten involved with him in the first place. I hope other Muslims will be warned and don’t get involved in these types of haram situations.”

“This kind of relationship only brings deep suffering and not just for the couple, once they have children, they are the main sufferers. You just said it “madly in love”, that is the first step for suffering, I am sorry to tell you this but this kind of love is infatuation, is not real love, and when you are at the point to go further, scares me, do you realized how much you can loose with this relationship? Please, think about it and be honest between you two, this will affect both of your roots and after the infatuation is gone, lots of suffering will come.”

“”God created love”. This is popular modern Christian ideology, completely false and created by deviant Christians who have raised Issa (pbuh) to the level of divinity. The children won’t be choosing anything, actually they would end up chossing nothing, be confused & and probably end up atheist because they are disillusioned by religion. Problems come in when parents live through their children & are adamant on forcing their opinions on children either by force, emotional blackmail or manipulation.”

It’s disgusting. It might be due to me being a romantic at heart, but seriously, the comments were all so vile. Do feelings not matter anymore? Does anyone care about marrying someone they love? Never, ever get carried away by religion like that! You shouldn’t have to live life regretting that you’ve lost the perfect partner in the name of religion! I know people who are married, who don’t share the same beliefs. I have seen marriages work out just fine when the wife’s a Muslim and the husband’s a Christian.

Religion is supposed to be “beautiful” and “peaceful” but dare I say, there is absolutely nothing beautiful about telling someone they can’t love whoever the fuck they want to. I’m just annoyed, probably from my own internal arguments and the fact that my parents are strict Muslims, not allowing me to date (I did anyway), telling me that I can only marry another Muslim. Well, you know what? GOD MADE ME THIS WAY! He made me in a way that I would only fall in love with someone who is not Muslim. He made me who I am. Muslims believe in qada and qadar, so I’m assuming God must have known that I was gonna turn out this way and guess what? That didn’t stop him from making me.

I’m very frustrated right now, knowing that there are people out there who think they have the right to tell people what to do. It’s 2014, shouldn’t we all be more open and more accepting of everyone else? Don’t go around preaching cause you just sound like an outright asshole. If 2 people “can’t” be married but want to, let them fucking get married! What is so wrong about having 2 people of different religious beliefs get married?! If people want to embrace Islam, they will! If people want to embrace Christianity, they will! There really is no point to someone converting unwillingly, just doing it to get married.

If God had wanted a Muslim to only marry a Muslim, or a Christian to marry another Christian, does it not seem that God only wants Muslims to get married and that marriage is only exclusive to them? Or just Christians? Or any other religion for that matter. Marriage isn’t between a Muslim and a Muslim (etc), it’s between two people.

It’s all such a crazy concept to me. I can’t accept the fact that mere strangers have the right to tell you what to do with your fucking life. Do whatever the fuck you want with it! It’s yours! Go marry a damn cow if you want to!


I’m feeling very overwhelmed today, so overwhelmed that I couldn’t even nod off in the bus to work (which I usually do, which I SHOULD have done today considering the mere 4 hours of sleep that I had). I kept thinking about money – will I have enough soon to get myself a plane ticket to see Tom? Will I have enough to last me until I get my pay next? Will I be able to save enough each month? I kept thinking about work – how am I suppose to last another few months at this job that I hate? Will I be able to pull through and care about things I don’t care about for much longer? I thought about my mum – how much I hate her (this has nothing to do with teenage angst. I’m 24, it’s a much bigger issue than that) and how I’m dying to leave. I don’t have any sort of relationship with her, with any of my family members. We don’t talk, we don’t go out to do anything together, it feels like a bunch of strangers living under one roof.

I then thought about how happy I was living with Tom. How his family bought me gifts for my birthday, for Christmas, something my own family never cared about doing, which probably led to me not giving a single fuck when my birthday came around. I thought about how they always thought about me, bought me things when they were out, saying “oh, we saw this and thought you would like it so we got it for you!” I thought about those mornings I woke up with Tom next to me and how I never woke up angry or feeling negative about the day. I remembered how his family always made me laugh, made me feel included, made me feel like I was a part of their small, warm family unit.

I’ve never felt that sort of love here. Maybe I have, but maybe I was too young to notice. It’s frustrating when your parents treat you like a kid when you’re clearly a fucking adult. I still get texts at 9PM, telling me to come home cause it’s late. I have no privacy, no sort or form of respect from anyone. I just feel so angry all the time, and sad at the same time. Sad because I have to face all these people I hate every day when I could be somewhere else with people who actually want me around.

I’ve been slipping in and out of my moods. I’ve started to get anxious again, panicky. I haven’t been that way in a while but it’s all coming back. I feel like the light at the end of the tunnel is a bit too far away right now. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next few months and it scares me, it scares me that I might still be here then. I hate the uncertainty, I hate all these toxic people in my life, I can feel myself losing a grip on things again and I’ve taken so long to get better (sort of), I just don’t want to slip and fall into everything that happened before.


I regret a lot of the decisions I made when I was younger. You’re young and goddamn motherfucking stupid and you go sign a phone line under your name for your ex-boyfriend (who is a goddamn low-life and a fucking parasite) and now you have to pay $900 to cancel the line. What is my life right now? I used to think I was pretty smart but after getting that letter from SingTel, I don’t feel so smart afterall (hur hur).

What do I do now? Do I feign ignorance because “it’s not me, it was him!” Do I sit in a corner and cry about it? I just want to run away from it all so badly, run to the woman whose milk fed my fragile body and whose blood runs through my veins (my mother) and let her handle it for me, I want all the bad things to go away…but I’m 24 and I’m an adult and as much as I want to cry and kill said person, I won’t because murder is frowned upon and because no, I will not be beaten down by the likes of a fucking son of a bitch, and when I get knocked down, I get up again, you’re never gonna keep me down~

I’ve been through a lot worse than having to part with $900 but yeah, I did feel very “meh” and “fuck you, world” last night but I called Tom and we had a nice, long conversation which has made me not hate everything and everyone so much. I always turn to Tom or call him before I leap blindly into any sort of commitment. He’s more level-headed and less emotional than I am, would think of a solution to a problem instead of crying the worries away (me, cause I’m a woman and I’m allowed to cry over everything).

In other words, I was a fucking idiot when I was 15, blinded by ideas of love I saw on TV, thought only of myself and looking cute, decided that I wasn’t good enough for anyone else so I had no choice but to settle with what I had, and thought through my arse (I was such an amazing kid, wasn’t I?). It could have gotten better if I hadn’t went through the next 7 years of my life with fucking unnecessary baggage. I wasn’t a girlfriend, more of a mother who had to give pocket money to her son and buy presents for him so he won’t hate her. How shallow was I, buying someone’s affection~

But isn’t it such a cruel joke the world is playing on me that even though it’s been 2 years since we broke up, he still has to have some sort of place in my life – his $900 phone bill under my name.

As much as I want to let a pack of rabid wolves have a go at this useless being, I will not (cause where the fuck will I find a pack of rabid wolves in this city?!). I will be a lady, hold my head high because this too shall pass (thought I’ll end it off with a philosophical bang).


It’s June. The second of June. I’ve not seen Tom in 5 months. I don’t wanna sound needy but I goddamn fucking miss him. It’s all fine and dandy to Skype and text and call, but really, I would much rather like to have him next to me in bed than my phone. My friends tell me that I’m “strong” and I get “how do you do it” from people I meet, but let me tell you this, I am not strong. I’m…adaptable. I learn to adapt, I learn to get into a motion of things, a routine, which is why I wasn’t really in good shape when I got back to Singapore – Tom wasn’t there, my routine wasn’t there.

Some days I miss him and some days I bloody miss him. I try to occupy my time with other people but they have their own lives to lead and my best friend is so far away in fucking Melbourne and it’s not cool how life has dealt me with this set of cards. “I’ll just fucking put your best friend in Melbourne and your boyfriend on like fucking Mars!” 75% of the time I’m fine. I go to work, I text Tom, we Skype, text some more, and I go to bed, and the whole routine starts again. Sometimes (usually on cold, stormy nights), I cry myself to sleep, I text him incessantly for an hour straight even when I know he’s sleeping and can’t reply, send him a slew of texts saying “I miss you”. It’s pathetic but some days my emotions get the better of me and I end up in a heap of blubbering mess.

Some days I feel helpless, like I really need to have Tom with me. Helplessness turns into desperation and I start panicking and…well, it gets very ‘not good’. I hate knowing that I’m missing out on so much of his life, that I’m missing out on his family’s lives. I’ve never had a great relationship with my family but Tom’s family has been so kind and welcoming, I love being around them, I want to watch the kids grow up, I want to have a closer relationship with them, I just want to be there and not miss out on anything. I know they’re not my family but it feels like they are and I’ve grown to love each and every one of them.

So, guys, I’m really not “strong”, I break down like the rest of you, more than most. I’m a big fat emotional turmoil inside but I just try to brave through it. Because it’s gonna feel really amazing when I finally get to see Tom again. With a big bouquet of flowers at the airport. Cause he’s an amazing boyfriend that way.