three am

Do you know that shit of a feeling when you're feeling lonely but you don't want to tell anyone and you don't know what to do to deal with that loneliness, that emptiness? It's the pits. It happens at least once every few months and you can't do anything about it. But it makes you aware of your one and only vulnerability: to love and be loved.

My lucky underwear is a pair grey boyshorts with multi-coloured birds scattered all over. What's yours like?

Siew, Stef and I pissed off a gay guy (in his 30's) with our constant laughter during Twilight. He wasn't part of our target audience to annoy because he looked like he could (and would) beat us up.

Sometimes I'm just not sure what the other person's talking about so I reply generically and pray like mad.

My friends and I talk about love, tv shows and Pokemon. My mom and her cousin talk about arthritis and hip replacement.

God loves repeating things, like my mom.

1. Long, long ago, way before any of you were born, mi Padre went to a Catholic school. And because he was a terrible bratface, he decided to shit in the middle of the church hall and then collect a/some/all bible(s) and burn them. That’s okay though, ‘cuz according to the internet, Jesus forgives all sins.

Not sure if that applies to Muslims.

2. A couple of decades after that, God gave my parents three lovely daughters — two weirdos and an awesome one. Anyway, the eldest daughter got peer-pressured into showing that she’s a tuff cookie, and decided to pretend-press the fire alarm button at the Siglap Mosque. Alas, she underestimated her thumb strength and— TET-TET-TET-TET-TET-TET-TET!

I really don’t know how fire alarms sound like.

3. About a month or two ago, the very same Siglap Mosque got burned down thanks to a 14-year-old boy. Whether he did it intentionally or not, we will never officially know until the trial ends.

And mi Padre is representing the boy.