Lately, I’ve been on TikTok, scrolling to find inspiration on what I could journal about. I realize that in another life, I could’ve been any of those creators—the video editing, the content ideas, the confidence of being in front of the camera. Realistically, I could do any of those. So what’s stopping me?

I want to be more creative, and I do believe I have a lot to say—things that some people might even agree with. And it feels so much easier than journaling about it. Don’t get me wrong, journaling is also fun, but with videos and visuals, I could add pictures and reference other videos. Maybe it just takes too much effort?

the perfume tester — because it smells like you

the same lipstick i’ve been wearing since last year

a receipt from lunch, except it was one meal short

my mini tripod, in case i get lonely and need to talk to myself

my handmade journal

a small packet of tissue, in case i think of you again

1. people asking when i’ll be back in kl (girl… when i have a job)
2. planning ahead (i’m unemployed, i’m not even sure i can survive today)
3. seeing people get married (unjustified)
4. seeing people travel (should be me fr)
5. when men ask what i do for work (being unemployed is embarrassing)
6. explaining my situation to men i talk to (i rent in kl but i’m in jb… whatever man)
7. happiness in general?? (give me a break)

i tried prying open the pomegranate but failed. i’ve never been good at it—you would know. this fruit has been sitting on the counter for a while now, and i’ve been subconsciously avoiding it. it reminds me too much of you.

it was your unspoken duty to pry them open for me. they were always too hard for me, but they were sweet, so i liked them. maybe too sweet. and we both know i’ve never been very good at holding onto things that are too sweet for me. just look at you, for instance.

when something is that hard and that sweet, you have to be careful not to break what matters.

i finally hear the crack of the outer shell. and then, just like that, the seeds scatter across the counter. i rush to wipe it off, but it stains. it seeps in, mixes with my tears.

and suddenly nothing is going right in my life—and you, forever stained too.

favourites

• family
• close friends

frequently contacted

• long distance friends
• dad

all contacts

• neighbours
• old classmates
• guys i matched with
• kids i used to teach

recents

• dad
• friends in the same city
• job recruiters

deleted

• friends i fought with
• old situationships
• my dead mum’s number
• restaurants i don’t go to anymore
• ex-managers

produce aisle

• firsts and beginnings
• first day of school
• first friend
• first heartbreak

staples

• daily routine
• sleep schedule
• skincare routine

frozen aisle

• what could’ve been
• old dreams
• untaken paths

snacks

• guilty pleasures
• sounds of laughter
• inside jokes

bakery

• nostalgia
• the trace of a familiar scent
• old pictures
• my journal from when i was 15

dairy

• relationships
• friendships
• everyday people i meet

cleaning supplies

• long paragraphs
• unsaid apologies

canned goods

• hard times
• friends who unintentionally hurt me
• coping mechanisms

health and wellness

• allergies
• moments when i put my ego aside

1. tissues (not the kitchen ones, we don’t use those anymore)
2. coffee (the brand she used to buy)
3. bread (small, for one)
4. wet wipes (to clear out her fridge)
5. detergent (the one that smells like her)

not getting into the high school i want and i split up with my friends

changing classes in 2015 and splitting with my friends

moving away from home at 18

first friendship breakup at 18

second friendship break up at 20 

online classes for covid

first heartbreak at 22

burntout from first job that i used to love at 23

the death of my cat at 25

the death of my mother at 26

losing my second job i love at 27