454: Alcohol Ballad (Part I)

454: Alcohol Ballad (Part I)

This is just a small look into my world,
A time in my world when my toes curled
At the burn of alc down my throat
and man, the alc rocked my world like a goddamn boat

So here’s a small look here,
Just before we say cheers

Good girls waited ’til they were eighteen
To try the celebrated poison drink
Or if they couldn’t wait they would try them unseen,
Giggle with each other in every clink

In the early days we would mix soj with beer
Add a fair amount of Sprite
Just to ease our fear
Before we chugged and began to feel light-

Stumble up (or was it down?) to the bathroom
Eager to clear away our impending doom
Splash our face with some cold water
Grab the edge of the sink before we falter
Laugh obnoxiously and loudly,
And smile in the mirror proudly.

Stumble back down (or was it up?) the stairs
Fall back clumsy back into one o’ the chairs
With blazed eyes raise a shot glass,
All the people before you, lookin’ like a farce

And you say, one more shot!
Clink, down the glass, feel hot,
Your throat burns, chest taut,
And you’re beginning to feel
Like that boy feeding you the bottle
Is looking like someone you’d wanna throttle

But the restaurant is no place for drunken behaviour RIGHT?
Oh honey take a look at the plight
You’re in with this fella
Best bet his girl’s name ain’t Bella

~ Serendipitous

Fucked the last line

I definitely wanted to write more so I might title this Part 1 instead of Incomplete

Ye the alc


453: It’s Been a While

453: It’s Been a While

Truthfully, I haven’t found the time to sit down and actually write something. If I briefly pass over the twenty-three odd days that have come and gone since the end of exams, it’s difficult to summarise with anything other than indulging in hedonism, and losing myself in dreams that seem too real, that seem to blur that fine line between reality and the realm of imagination. Coupled with having vivid dreams and excruciatingly clear memories, it does start to be a bit difficult to distinguish between the two. Of course when I’m not outside with friends or just outside in general, I’m probably either sleeping or aimlessly wandering on the Internet. Usually lost in my own thoughts, wondering about other people, the nightlife, my future, other worries, succumbing to the pleasures and pains that life offers me, boring things, silly things, strange things. Unfinished thoughts, sentences, lost thoughts, grappling with figments of imagination, broken fragments of slippery dreams lost in translation because of the miscommunication between the conscious and the subconscious. Engaging with my unconventional dreams of looking like a young and employed writer sitting in a coffee shop or a public dining area, not blending in and just being myself. Something that maybe I have done too much, yet too little of. I wish I had engaged more with my memories on paper. My biggest regret is not recording every single moment of my life, or every single thought, but rather that I neglected to take the time out of my day to preserve the threads of the tapestry my eyes weave before me, the forever moving picture that never really stopped or started; it was just there, I guess, but the longer I leave it to decay in the deep recesses of my mind, the more I forget, muddle up, embellish.

Is that not what they say about nostalgia? Going down memory lane, tripped out because everything is the way you remembered it, but coming back to it now, it kind of feels different, like thin, glossy film veiling your vision, or your memories, or both. Actually it’s difficult to know, but the more you trip, maybe the more you notice the bad things, the little, stealthy motions your original eye missed because you were so blinded by love or your constant pursuit of approval that ends up being a fault. Withdrawing from nostalgia trips are difficult because you don’t know, well, sometimes you don’t know how to feel after it. Renewed, displeased, hopeful, ashamed, wistful? Really, it’s difficult to know. For me, though, nostalgia trips aren’t really what they’re meant to be. For me, it’s a mix of the past and the future, peppered with snippets of the present. I prefer to call it being on artificial psychedelics 24/7. It’s easier that way; it’s easier when I don’t have to distinguish between reality and dreams because I am always dreaming, always living in my own world, controlling what I can or cannot do beyond the confines of the education system. If there ever was a time where I did not shit on how god awful the system was to me, to many of my friends, to many other young and younger strangers, that time is now. I have never been more grateful to possess and continue to develop a love for the English language, literary works of art, an acquired taste for thrilling and moving films.

Speaking of which, I went to see¬†Goodbye Christopher Robin this morning. Such a moving film. Anything that focuses heavily on familial relationships, the desire for approval, love, marginalisation (is ostracisation a word??), those really resonate with me. I cried during the film, towards the end. I guess you could say it elicited a strong emotional response from me if we were still in HSC English. That also reminds me, I should probably get a start on my novel. I found it incredibly challenging (or maybe I was just lazy or preoccupied with other things to write those fifty thousand words). I’m not sure. I came here, to where I used to study often and alone, so that maybe I could write something for my novel, but I only ended up writing my next blog post. Whoops.


~ Serendipitous

I want to write an alcohol ballad, for my blog. It’s been a while since I rhymed words and wrote a poem, but I guess I’ll give it a go when I get home.


452: Hedonism

452: Hedonism

So I have been indulging in this philosophy for a while, ever since the exam block was over. I’ve lost all sense of discipline and enjoy spending more money than I earn. It’s a very interesting experience, to say the least.

I’ve been lost in a haze of cycling pursuing interests, watching films, listening to different kinds of music, meeting curious people, not writing down my memories and cool things that have happened to me. More or less want to start a bullet journal but have other commitments in life as well?!

It’s actually terrible. I want to tell you (and my future self) about all the emotional and physical rollercoasters I’ve been on, being young. That’s the best part. I know I’m young and trying to max out all the things I can do as a young person. Flashing my driver’s licence proudly when I’m asked for ID because I’m buying alcohol with friends, or staying out a bit later than I usually would have for studying, little things. And trying to be a responsible adult, but watching all the numbers go down eventually. Sigh. And formals! How could I forget about formal? Those were fun. It was sort of awkward to see my not-really crush with a date he barely knew but whatever right? Young people do all sorts of stupid things, I guess. Heh.

Anyway I wish I could write more. I probably would, except the prospect of spending most of the night playing Minecraft or watching Star Wars or watching k-drama is too much. I should be doing the stuff on my daily to-do list, but I’m honestly so done lmao


~ Serendipitous

Fuck, how could I forget about talking about my novel? Didn’t go so well. I keep making a mental outline of what I want to say, but I keep forgetting, eurgh… oh well. It’ll work out. I’ll get a novel out at some point in my life.

451: Life after HSC

451: Life after HSC

Wow I was actually expecting to update a lot more often but I guess it didn’t happen. I’ve been really living. I’ve experienced so many emotions, tastes, lights, feels, everything. Overwhelming, overexciting my own senses, trying too many new things, still having a lack of sleep for fear of not being able to enjoy every moment of my 4 months of freedom with the most happiness and alertness. Ironic.

It’s fucking amazing. My novel has disintegrated so I’m just taking it slow at the moment. And getting closer to people I would have never had the chance to get close to if I hadn’t taken initiative to do so.

Anyway hit me back, just to chat, sincerely yours your biggest fan this is Stan

I’m going through an Eminem phase at the moment, so just streaming his songs all the time. Sigh. I should update with a proper flash fiction thing though. Like maybe an anthropology of my dreams.


~ Serendipitous


450: Freedom

450: Freedom

This is…4 days late, but I’m free! I have been using the freedom well to cultivate my new life. Sadly it has meant that I haven’t had much time to post on my blog. So what I’m thinking of doing is revamping the style and writing more poetry and flash fiction. Of course, I’m doing the NaNoWriMo and I am struggling to reach the word count (even though it’s been the first week). Sigh.

I love life now! I’m not depressed anymore (I think)! So yay there. I’m thinking of linking my Instagram to my blog, but I’m not sure. I’ll think about it.

Lots of lunches and fun activities with friends. I’m actually having a life.


~ Serendipitous


449: 99 Problems

449: 99 Problems


2 sleeps until freedom, but I have 99 problems on my plate. Life struggles, personal struggles, struggles struggles struggles…

Well, I am doing NaNoWriMo this year and I have a fairly good idea. Well, we’ll see how it goes. I guess this is an update from my life. Once I’m actually free I will be posting a lot more on my blog and just making it look nice.




448: Baobei

448: Baobei

In Chinese, this word can have several meanings, such as “baby” or “treasured one”. In my family, this was my special nickname, and for me it meant that I was “the treasure of the family” (clearly¬†not the spoiled, youngest child of the family).

This is probably unjustified, but I feel somewhat sad and offended that a lot of LGs are using it to address their favourite younger friends – for some reason, it detracts from the special meaning this word has given me. Of course, I probably don’t have any reason to feel the way I do, but it doesn’t feel too good seeing the term thrown around and, in a sense, bastardised. At home, I still feel the love my parents and sister have for me when they call me “baobei”, but knowing other people are using it for their friends, eurgh…it pisses me off haha


~ Serendipitous