Hello guys, please bear with me.


I have been delegated the task of babysitting *ahem pun intended little kids and one of them have been extremely disobedient and thus, I have decided that the most practical and fitting punishment for PONTENG (skipping classes) shall be to write a standard secondary 4 essay of 350 words and above.

This is the title

“Write about the time when you told a lie that changed something in your life.”

Being the student counselor and role model that I am, I shall set a good example and write one as well. Don’t you guys just think your goddess is the MOST AMAZING EVER. OMG.

It was midnight when it happened. He was kneeling there with the overstated bouquet, ring in hand and a look of overwhelming love. I imagined him spending way too much time planning it, wanting to make it perfect. Andy always had the perfectionist in him and the proposal was going to be no exception. I looked into his eyes, those mesmerizing brown eyes, framed by the fine wrinkles created by his frequently laughing character.

He looked dashing in his stiff white shirt. The buckle of his Giorgio Armani belt that clung around the slim waist shone softly, reflecting the glimmering lights of the candles that laid scattered on the floor. It was an ineluctable answer. It was supposed to be a definite yes. Tears snaked down my face.

“I am sorry Andy. I can’t marry you. I realized I just don’t love you that way.”

I turned and took to my heel. I ran, not wanting to deal with the consequences of that lie. The lie of colossal properties. I did not want to see him freeze in that sudden anguish that I put him in. I did not wish for my determination to disintegrate upon watching his heart break and in turn change my mind about the lie.

That was then, in the entire 26 years of my life, did I realize it takes so much courage to lie. To lie to someone that you love with all your heart. I ran and ran until I reached the busy street, hailed a cab and took to a nearby pub.

Beer in hand, I killed my phone whilst wrestling internally to fight off the unfolding of my heart, cracking at the seams.

“Look here, Charlotte, it is not of my intention to castigate you, to put you down. However As you know, our family is a prestigious household name from the upper class society. Andy’s father has a reputation to maintain and as his mother, I simply cannot risk having a child born under illegitimate circumstances to have any marital association with him. Have I not been nice enough to allow the both of you to go on your little dates? But marriage is out of the question. What will people think of our family? For his own good as well, Charlotte, I hope you will not see him again.”

Insobriety seeped through my pores. Is my life what I thought it to be? As like a Korean drama re-enacted in real time? I wanted to direct that searing pain somewhere. I wanted to hate my mother for giving birth to me out of wedlock, the unwanted fruit of some random playboy. But abhorrence is a strong word. And my mother was a great woman. All these anger and hurt… they asphyxiate me incessantly. I have no one to tell to.

But I knew she was right. I had to let him go. He was the prodigy of his house; the talented musician, 5 times winner of the National debate, school president with a Harvard first class honors. What about me? Just the typical… you know, the unwanted child of someone’s passionate mistake.

I always thought TV dramas were written by overly creative (and sometimes sadistic) people. Now however, I beg to differ. I began to believe that all such tragic stories actually took place in real life, to some people, somewhere. Except that now, I am the main character of one such sad story.

Andy tried to beg me a few times after that, in which I had to rope in my random colleague to complete my Korean drama act of being my new love interest. His pain and disbelief gradually turned into bitterness, and soon, I watched as the love of my life walked out, bringing so much of my heart with him. Then, he never looked back.

It hurt like mad to see his spiteful messages and to see his maid return me all my belongings from his house. I was like poor Cinderella that had reached the last strike of the clock at midnight. My fairytale was over. My life was never the same again. For a start, I learnt that loving someone, sometimes, simply meant letting him go.

That was 2 years ago. The last I heard, Andy was happily married to the daughter of a famous oil tycoon. Did I regret saying that lie? Now that I think about it, no, I did not. How could I have even endured being constantly put down by his family? I guess everyone lies, for better or for worse. What matters is whether or not you can live with the consequences.

And I did. Gratifyingly and happily, ever after.

785 words.

Sorry, I am so rusty. By the way, in case you guys don’t know, I will be flying to HK in 2 days. So let me know if you need me to buy anything for you. Y’all know I love you. ❤

So anyway… look what I found in Dom’s drawer, that feisty kid.

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Tribute to our first Prime Minister, Lee Kuan Yew


I know, everyone’s been writing one for this great man. I guess my command of English is ludicrous as compared to many. But well yes I still want to share my humble letter to this man, because he deserves it.. much more than it.

So I am the 90s kid, (early 90s mind you), and I don’t remember much of my childhood except the playgrounds where my mother will leave me to roam about, the 10cents chocolate candy and my dreaded chinese lessons. And of course my grandfather. He brought me to many countries, but I was too young to fully understand the culture and economical difference back then.

In my secondary school days, I was a rebellious and problematic teenager who did not even remember what was the name of the President then? But I loved reading and my passion for that has helped me to bring home an A1 for my social studies, probably to make my f9 E and A math look good. So there it was, my first encounter with Lee Kuan Yew.

Back in those days, “The merger and separation of Sg with MY” was like the hottest examination topic, and I knew I’d ace the paper if I can memorize the whole chunk of “Common market not established”, “racial riots” and the likes. But in my textbook I saw the photo of a man in his younger days, a garland around his neck, beaming and waving to the crowd.

I was like “Oh, wow Gong Gong (my grandfather) resembles him!” And yes… that was the first time I actually studied Lee Kuan Yew. My study on him thus began, and I grew to appreciate what he has done for Singapore. (as well as the shiny A1 on my report card)

But it was all just ink on paper that told of his merits. Recession hit, and everywhere I hear people complaining about inadequacy. Monkey see, Monkey do; everyone started to grow just a tad bit conceited and greedy. And I followed suit. Not that I stood at the Parliament house and held up a board for a strike, but I was compelled to follow everyone and grumble incessantly about every bill, every decision, every project, every hiccup that came up.

Until I started to grow up, did I actually traveled.  No, I haven’t been around the world (working on it), but travel like, feeling and immersing in the country’s culture, their way of life. Epiphany came like a snap of fingers and these are the few comparisons that really opened my eyes:

I was like,

– Yes let’s have a drink from the tap, I’m thirsty. Oh WAIT. You can’t do that, the water’s not treated. Oh damn.
– Where’s the cab??? Ok never mind, where’s the nearest bus stop?
– OMG how do I drive???? There’s no street light????
– What do you mean I can’t leave my bag in the car. Car theft???? >.>
– Why do I need this pepper spray for?
– Oh fuck I just stepped on gum again.
– WHAT? That rude waitress deserves to be scolded but I CANT BECAUSE SHE’S THE “ELITE RACE” in this country???
– Ok you got to stop being racist here.
– No no, it’s not “I am going to bath” It’s “I am going to bathe”… You need to at least know some conversational English, bro, its good for you.

I am pretty sure many of us who are well traveled will know all these. It’s kind of like a non verbal unified agreement;

We just fall in love with our pink IC. And we proudly say “Yes, I am from Singapore”. Not to forget, it was just a mere, living breathing man who made all these possible for us. I can’t even control a sim family of 8.

So as I was standing there just now, at the Senja CC tribute, I watched the video of how Mr Lee planted his first tree, second, third, so vigorously and happily. It was beautiful. Until when he was old and fragile, but even so, with his shaking hands, watered the trees that are now strong and sturdy.

Like our country. Our Singapore. And that analogy made me cry like a pussy but I didn’t care. I watched the scene of him weeping about the separation from Malaysia over and over again. I could almost feel the heartache. I felt it was so beautiful and the love he had for Singapore was so immense It made me ashamed of how little I contributed to anything at all.

That being said, no beautiful words can perfectly convey my gratitude. (Maybe it’s just because my vocab is limited).
I just hope that from this moment on, Singaporeans will truly keep a piece of him in their hearts forever, and help each other out more often. Don’t take pictures of stupid things and post it on Stomp, don’t bully and ostracize each other.

Because we’ve only got each other now. And we have the most important mission ever and that is to protect and keep his pride and joy running, to bring it to greater heights.
Thank you Mr Lee. I don’t know you, but I know all about you. Thank you for everything that you have done. I am not an extremely hardworking nor intelligent Harvard graduate but I will be brave, follow my dreams and put other people’s interest before mine. I will always remember to be appreciative, to be grounded and to always be kind.

Your humble citizen

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I don’t know where to start. The words simply clump up in my throat, like the withered leaves that clog around the drain during a sad, lonely day in fall. The night has finally arrived; the night where all notions of the breakup that we are facing shall be put to an end. I have to do it, don’t I?

I watched you while you were sleeping on the couch in the living room just now. It’s probably the 100000th time you told me not to wake you up so that we can sleep together on my bed. Our bed. Said because you find it a hassle to wake up just to shift back into the room when you have to wake by 6.30.

I stared for really long, mind you. I knelt down and ruffled your hair, took a sniff and a long, lovely gaze. You smell just the way I imagined, the familiar scent that envelops me when we cuddle. It reminds me of our love; the one we had a long long time ago until our problems outweighed it.

But… it’s going to be the first time I will obey that instruction that you gave. I will learn how not to be soft hearted again, how to not be so clingy; how to finally learn to get through a night where we lie so near, yet our hearts are miles apart.

There are many things I wanted you to know. However, right now, I can only wish that in the future, the thoughts will finally dawn upon you.

People always say its childish, to make a big deal out of who wins or loses in a relationship. But how is that childish? You’ve really defeated me hands down. Your bitter castigation, your passive aggression and all the moves that you have remotely outplayed me of. I guess, I am quite the loser, having gone down without a fight. I just allow myself to cry and mope over my own weakness. I actually fully embraced the gaping difference in our intelligence, the disparity of emotional detachment and then mock myself wryly.

What was that triumph card you held? The one that you held proudly over your head whilst we stood, divided, on the fragmented mounds of our broken relationship – It was simply the fact that you made everything seemed like it was my fault.

The best part; is the fact that I know you aren’t happy or anything. You are heartbreakingly sad. Probably just as sad as I am. It’s just that you simply had to do whatever you did to make yourself feel better about it. It’s almost as if you wanted to hurt me to ensure that I am hurting as much as you are.

I remember I tried to leave A alot of times. Until my friends were sick of me saying “Hey I swear i’m gonna leave him for good” and it never happens.

Why is this still happening? I realized I never actually matured in the sense of love. Am I a masochist? Right now I think there’s no denying it. Yes I guess I do fall into that pathetic stereotypical group of girls who simply love the pain.

Has it occurred to you that maybe I love you very fucking much for me to cry with burning humiliation in front of my sister, my friends and the public?

And in that 1 year 5 months of knowing me has it occurred to you that I do in fact love my pride alot, and I love you so fucking much that I allowed you to step on it like some shitty little cockroach fighting for life?

When I tugged at your arm, when my voice became so small because my eyes were choked with tears. When I ran out of ways to get across to you, to beg you to stop, when I started crying hysterically, kneeling on the floor, slamming my exasperated fists into the wall and onto the bed….

Has it occurred to you how much I love you?

We both know what the root of the problem is. – That we simply just don’t suit each other. But yes our hearts more than often enjoys disconnecting from our brains and in turn we act on the desires of our hearts.

I am sorry that I can’t be the kind of girl you want, the docile, feminine ideal wife material. A part of me is, but it’s not enough for you. You want me to be destitute of emotions, of my needs, of my wants, my hopes and dreams.

It’s kind of like a parasite. You want me to latch onto your dreams, your happiness, your well-being and derive my own lifeline from there.

Yes, you need a coffee; Honey let me get that for you right away. Are you hungry? Yes i will cook the noodles for you, in your style, your way. Sorry, did I put too much water? Please, finish the terrible noodles i cooked… I will do better next time. I am in the mood for sex, but oh you are tired, yes of course dear its normal for you to reject me, because I am not as attractive as the girls you look at on facebook. Oh wait what? I am napping but you are in the mood for sex. Yes of course honey, I will let you fuck me anytime you want to, because its a rare commodity. Even harder than getting a mythical bundle in dota2. Sorry, I know I look like a fucking gangster with the way I talk, so uncouth, unlike a girl. I am sorry that my conversations with my friends bore you. I see your phone is always on your hand whenever we are out. Yes I went out with a guy for dinner, because I stopped trying to make my life to revolve around you. Oh wait what do you mean you don’t remember the time where I made sure every appointment I had stops before 6.30 so that I can be at where you’d be after work? The waitress was so rude to me! But yes sorry baby I am just being a bitch when I tried to reason for better customer service. I should shut up and do my own reflections as to why she gave me bad service. Yes that guy likes me. I am sorry that I am such a whore, talking to him and all. I know its wrong for me to seek solace in other people when you left me crying for several nights. I am sorry I can get so horny just by someone speaking good english to me, and also, masturbating so much that the porn site is on my most frequented chrome tab. Oh you mean you are pretty sure I have been fucking around. Yes god damn I have been. Maybe that’s the reason why I still unabashedly ask you for sex. and crying after having been rejected by you. GOD. speaking of which yes you can’t stand my sarcasm nor my attitude. But why yes of course I can tolerate yours, after all you only show me attitude because I have done something extremely wrong, being the unreasonable slut that I am.

I guess I am indeed a very childish, very needy, and extremely whorish person. All I can say is, I really tried.

But I really can’t do it. I wonder about that every day. Does that make me a failure? A bad girlfriend? My emotions and my wants and needs have broken free and gone out of hand. My eyes are tired of being the most frequented emotional outlet. My hands are sore from the countless times I plummeted the various surfaces. And my heart…. is so so empty.

It doesn’t really matter what the world thinks, What I think. Most importantly, its what YOU think. I am shit-assed godforsaken kind of terrible in your eyes.

But I love you. I really do. And we both know that I love you enough to let you go.

I have to let you go. I want you to be happy. You deserve to be.

Just grit our teeth, let me be the one to finally set the ravages of our love on fire. We get through the notions… and we’ll survive.

And then you’ll be happier. So much happier.

And I will probably still love you through all of that.

50 shades of amber? :O

Actually, why do people still watch 50 shades when they can’t stop complaining that “Mr Grey’s actions damn gross sia!!! DAMN SADISTIC SIA!!! DAMN ERXIN SIA!!!”

And why can’t you stop criticizing about how the chosen lead actor don’t fit “Mr Grey in the book”? When you read, your mind conjures up images and faces. It’s pretty hard to imagine someone or a place that you have never seen before. I always liked to believe the theory that everything you dream about is something/someplace/someone that you have encountered before in your consciousness. Even if it’s just a glimpse of that particular guy whilst you are walking down the street, even if you only saw the scenery on the book before someone flips the page, even if it’s an object that you have overlooked on someone’s table.

Your idea of Mr Grey is probably a combination of (insert preferred hot celebrity) + particular features of someone that you really like (like, ian somerhalder’s eyes) + bearing the closeness of someone you like (your boyfriend or someone that you like).

I haven’t read the entire series of the books. But I have read many novels and watched the movies following which. And in all honesty… I think Our movie’s Mr Grey did quite a fine job there. Dakota did astoundingly well… Good submissive vibes. And their chemistry is overwhelming.

Many people ask me why 1) I don’t read the book since I enjoy erotic novels 2) Why did i not continue the novel I was working on. In case you guys don’t know, its here: (start from the prologue)

The reason being that 1) my story consists of dominatrix although not to Mr Grey’s extent. I don’t wish to end up losing my originality and deviate from my intended ideas because I’d like to believe 50 shades is an absolutely good read. 2) My ex was a dominatrix and somehow for the past few months it still hurt for me to even try to think about it. No… not because he whipped me 6 times. Just emotional issues which ironically were irrelevant to him that I have already solved.

However the good news is that I have decided to continue writing now 😀 follow me here on ~ and I will post the updates here. I don’t advertise about my novel elsewhere.

In case some of you have the holy christian mindset, dominatrix is nothing crazy depending on both parties. Pain and pleasure are interrelated, both having induction of the same hormone. Pain… is pleasure. This is what I told M, take a deep breath, let the pain wash over you. Your body grows accustomed to it, and harmonizes with the beauty that follows. (But of course we were talking about braces and not getting dickslapped by some belt.)

I actually enjoyed being the submissive when I was with my ex. No… he didn’t whip me till I bleed or anything. There are many levels and types of things that a dominant may want to do to you / with you. Don’t let Mr Grey’s playroom scare you.


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From my recent shoot.

The photographer said he saw the lingerie online and immediately decided that I would like it. Sure as hell I did 🙂

Anyway, I will be heading to KL for a short vacation this weekend. Will be back with more updates. And hopefully get started on chapter 14 of PTL. 😀

Yes, I need to look at a photo of ayam goreng before I go, and fantasize about it entirely for the remaining 1 day I have left in Singapore.


And I just realized that Malaysian boys like to eat fries. Is it a Malaysian thing or what???


Goddess’ birthday, bitches

My dear peasants,

thank you for all dem lovely birthday wishes. This is probably one of the best birthdays I ever had. Not to forget, thanks to everyone who made it possible for everything on my wishlist to be fulfilled 😀

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I am one very lucky girl! My sister planned a lovely birthday outing for me, and I am really touched to know that all dem boys turned up for my party. And the best part is knowing a few of them dedicated time to make a very (fugly) but sweet college for me. Jesus. How the fuck did my sister collect that huge number of unglam photos of me.

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I know right… They cropped it and made it a  point of joke for days.

So this is the cafe that my sister brought me to. The clever entrepreneurs converted their semi d into a very quaint al fresco cafe downstairs. It’s at some ulu part of clementi…. No idea how we reached there. My sister used google maps and we followed her blindly under the hot sun. :’D

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I didn’t try their cakes, but I heard from my friend who tried their rainbow cake, that it sucked ass. We had our brunch there, thus… yesssss AMERICAN BREAKFAST FOR ME.

I ordered their featured lamb shank with man tou too. Extremely delicious.

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Fluffy scrambled eggs… (it writes there sunny side up on the menu but you can have any style) fresh greens, sauteed mushrooms, thick toast, crispy bacon and a long and yummy sausage. OH YEAH YOU KNOW YOUR GODDESS LOVES HER SAUSAGES, H A  H A  H A

Charles and my sister ordered the pancakes. Only 10 bucks but really, dat fat slice of carbs… x 3.. overkill bro. Both of them couldn’t get past 1.5 slices. HAHA.

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Z bought my favorite cake for me… one of the only few cakes that I eat. Strawberry shortcake from bakerzin.

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Nothing beats fresh buttercream and soft sponge cake.

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I would say… full force but that shitty KY drove. Time to buy a 7 seater, bitch.  If ryan hadn’t gone to League of lesbians our team is complete… HAHA. Ryan would be position 4, and I position 1, Zax 2, Charles 5 and jon 5.

With my princess… Pisces baby 😀

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So part of the birthday outing was LASER TAG. I pretty much guessed it. Nothing much to do in Singapore :’D

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But it was way better than the grassy (OMG RIGHT GRASS) muddy paintball that we played in JB. Yes… ryan is sticking his damn gun at my boob. OH TALK ABOUT INNUENDOS. 

CB this fish and co I swear I don’t have face to step foot into Clementi Mall again. I had to wear that really humiliating but adorably endearing oyster on my head, Made to stand on a fucking chair and the manager shouted “LET’S SING A BIRTHDAY SONG FOR GODDESS”


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Yeah man your hardworking goddess still had to work. I tell you, dat Guinness shirt is so damn small. OR IS IT BECAUSE I AM FAT.

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I made a mistake of trying dat overhyped yoghurt that day… There’s no going back, I swear. The yoghurt is so so, and the staff attitude is damn bad but I can’t resist the caramelized biscuits. Fuck. People who invent sinful food all need to get fucked by a spider. THEY NEED TO BURN IN HELL, SATAN’S BEGUILEMENT.

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4 fingers wasn’t what I expected. I don’t like marination overkill >.> Won’t go back again D:

So yeah on my actual birthday (which was CNY eve) my grandmother made me two red eggs 😀 so traditional but still sweet nonetheless. I mean my grandmother, not the eggs. I fucking hate boiled eggs. I DID EAT ONE OK.

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It’s sad to feel that the atmosphere of CNY is dying out. It used to be so exciting and all when I was much younger. Now it’s just replacing your water content in body with beer and gambling all your money away :’D I didn’t even do any CNY shopping. D:

Yes, I am an angel :’D

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But okay la, at least he still cooked our very standard CNY supper which is the abalone with chicken noodles HAHAHA.

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The only few females in my life that I choose to keep. My cousins and my sister, NOT IN THIS PICTURE BECAUSE SHE WAS BUSY LOOKING FOR FOOD TO EAT. 

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So anyway, I just want to say thanks to everyone who helped make my wishes come true. I can’t believe everything on my list was fulfilled, and I got more than what I expected. I’m going to cry.

Thanks to CY, for my preciousssssss aveda hair products and extravagant pet food items for my shitty dog,
RC for the most precious 500 rm xD and that extra bit I used for steam cash 😉 😉
My sister, cousins and my boys for like,.. more than half of the items I wanted,
P for that generous angbao
YT for that lovely shades (I can’t stop wearing it) and make up products
Z for the Vs perfume
M for the necklace which looks exactly like the one I used to have :’D
ED for the lace bralets 😉 HAHAHA
AM for your sweet note and dress 🙂

and to all of you who wished me happy birthday. I am soooooooooooo happy you have no idea. especially from those that I really didn’t expect. hahahaha. I am so lucky to have you guys in my life 🙂

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Have a good week ahead darlings. I will be back to flood you again. Love ya!