Self-Ashtualisation

   The day before yesterday, when I was working really hard to focus on drafting my covering letter to the second literary agent on my list, my obsessive thought tightened its grip on me, deftly chaining me to itself. It breathed down my neck, nagged at me to come on and just do what it wanted and glared me in the eye, all at the same time. Its chant for me to start acting on my dream to become a voice over artist sounded like an excited but deadly whisper, so still yet so loud – and before long the draft of that covering letter in front of me seemed entirely drowned out by the incessant mental noise. Indeed, I could not concentrate, at all, even though I did much, much, much more than try.    As I discussed in this post , that ghostly mental chatter was the same one that had made me regret my decision not to intern at a radio station, for years on end. As a highly sensitive person, I had never minded thoughts like it. In fact, we coexisted in a sense, since I’d learnt to accept al

Three days late but here it is – a list of the 27 things I’ve learnt in 27 years, one I was supposed to write on my birthday on 17 Sep. Better late than never I suppose, so here I am, writing and reflecting. I’m not sure how many of the lessons I’ve learnt are universal or even if they would still apply to me a year or ten later, however change and growth are to be embraced and celebrated, so here goes:   1)     Being flexible and adaptable doesn’t mean you’re being false to yourself. Instead, flexibility and adaptability are qualities that will mentor your evolving self towards greater self-awareness and self-knowledge, opening your eyes to your previously untapped potentials. 2)     Some dreams take longer to come true but that’s OK, or in fact more than – the process is perhaps to be celebrated. As an aspiring novelist and a newbie blogger, I have learnt that writing is not the only act that will get my novel written and that completing blog posts is similarly not the only t

White hearts congregate like birds sitting snug on multiple, multiplied family trees. Feathers melted from milk chocolates, malted, those beauties perch on top a wedding cake, specially made for singles like me. The hearts are browned through the whites of my eyes, caramelised, fragranced with the aroma of French rose tea, befriending my every sense with the sweetness of waterfalls.   I am reborn every day, a foreigner in the floral-speaking country called Friendship, learning, without burning, its every tradition and myth, myself dragonised with each new word and phrase earned. Face turned unphased, I let every raindrop grow into my heart’s frosting, returning to the homecoming and upcoming parties that are my chosen family trees.   The butterflies in my stomach, wings fluttering, never fly away. Look here they are to stay! Inside I am freshened by their frientastical sprinkling of fairy dust. All I need to stay sweet, lit and booked up,