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Im not the girl your mom warned you about, her imagination was never this good.

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Friday, February 02, 2018, 11:41 PM
2 February


I teach Literature and EL. My teaching philosophy is very NIE MOE centric. I want to help students think for themselves. I believe that is the one skill I want to equip my students with. The gift of thought.

I have been putting this off for awhile now. Writing.
It’s been tough. But I didn’t want my memoirs to be filled with complaints. I wanted my mind to be in a better place. And I think I am now.

Just a recap, I placed myself in a spiral of choices and I felt stuck in a place where rules held me back and I trapped myself in self doubt and trusted the insults from my students too much for my own good. It was terrible victimizing myself. But these records are not one to frame the Singapore’s education system, rather, it is one that is truthful and honest, one that exposes a little Dream in a teacher who lived wanting to influence her students to thinkfor themselves. A teacher who’s dream started as a camouflaged excuse to sign a bond 4.5 years ago so her family wouldn’t have to face the financial burden of supporting her university education. A teacher that put her empathy to the test and experienced life like one of the lowest form in a position of “authority”, where it’s not about money, but rather, being treated with complete disrespect by the very people she set out to believe in and see the potential in. They said you needed patience to be a teacher, but the truth is that you need patience to be insulted and yet still choose to do good. So this is my story, cut and served to you in the most honest form that I can translate in. My memoirs of a teacher.

A huge disclaimer, these experiences are honest but one of a kind and I’m sure it doesn’t encompass the experience of every teacher out there. This is just me ranting, reflecting, and growing.

Let’s begin by describing just the first hour of an every day life at where I teach.
I wake up and begin at full gear by 720a.m where I face my form class of 40 kids. I have seen this class for more than a year now since I’ve followed them up from Secondary 1. I spend the first 40 minutes of the day as a broken recorder, “tuck in your shirt”, “why is your socks printed?”, “you have detention, remember to go for your smokalizer test as well..” and till date, I dread this part the most. Because they would throw tantrums, yell, refuse to comply, be defiant, and all you can do is hope they would fight and get into trouble. Because you have to be the one protecting every one. Because you are vital to keeping them safe even when they blame you and spit nasty insults at you, you stay calm, put on a customer service smile and speak calmly. You take their punches kindly and return them with a hug of comfort. It is hard because I’m basically converted to a creature I don’t even recognize especially when I can’t use my usual defense mechanism, to run away. But it is through these minutes that I put my character to the test.

I will stop here now. I am on MC today, and my phone rang multiple times informing me that my form class had a couple of cases. A student punching the window till his hands bled, a bit hitting another boy, another boy throwing another boy’s bag and a couple of bleeding victims. It is truly a bloody Friday let’s just leave it as that.




Thursday, November 16, 2017, 12:47 AM
What I want

i want a thrilling job. One that shouts fun
All day everyday
I want my thoughts to shift away from my insecurities and
A job where I excel in
One which I’m good at.

That would make me feel full.




Wednesday, November 08, 2017, 2:35 PM
I sing you an ode of love

Dearest Wendelyn

my dearest sister. Happy birthday. You are 15.. it took me awhile to pen these down.

I have so much to tell you. I will keep it short.
You are my numbing pill. When I think about you, I feel proud of myself.

You are my pride.

I have an excruciating burst of love, for you. It over-spills each time I bring up your name to the people around me. I worry for you. I care for you, and above all, I know I will always be here for you.

I'm not afraid of you growing up. You are mature and sensible. You have the gift of thought. It is special, and I wish you will always use it for good. You have the wits, to entertain everyone, and often so, yourself. This part you don't know yet, but you have and always will be beautiful to me.

I love you so so much and I feel so blessed to have such an amazing sister. One who sees the best in me, when I'm completely blinded by the fog of insults from the world. You bring out the beauty in me. When I am afraid, I look to you and I want to appear strong for you. I then, melt into a weldable metal and shield myself from the every day pain. I numb myself so I can feel what you feel.

I love you so so much and I am everything I am because you love me, and because you love me, I can love me. I am absolutely in need of you.

I will protect you if it means I have to be stronger,
I will silence my bursting thoughts, if it means you live through another year of smiles.

So, please know that you are irreplaceable, special, and unimaginably amazing to me.

To our endless love,
Your sister.




Wednesday, September 06, 2017, 3:04 PM
A mother's love prevails

Time and time again
I reach into the deepest part of my soul to find
Comfort and Confidence
Yet all I find is criticism.

And I want to be fine on my own. I want to be strong.
But yet I seem to dial up a familiar number.
Hovering above the call button.
Not wanting but yet needing my Meemoose.

I am fully 24, full in many aspects
On the surface.
I have a career, a man, and what I think of as friends.
And yet there's always a void.

The void that feeds on affirmation.
One that requires a tangible voice telling me that I am good enough.
Achievements amounting to "good enough"
The endless pursuit of any moment that spells comfort.

I know I need to be stronger.
But for now, I still need her.
The biological god that gave me life.
Like a drug, an easy way, to be affirmed.

It goes beyond being there, physically.
It exist in compounds far more complex.
In knowing just the amount of right things to say, to the endearing touch, to the sound of her voice,
To her magical smile.
It is the way she makes you feel like the most unreasonable of all your emotions are basically what makes us human.
It's the way she then makes you feel special in the way you can cope with these obstacles. She described you as unbeatable and if anyone can do it, it's you.

She gives you confidence and comfort.
And truly, the greatest gift of all.




Tuesday, July 25, 2017, 9:26 PM
A ticking time bomb

it seems different.
Or was it just that I've been ignoring the signs that it wasn't right.
Don't feel it.
So I make myself need it less.
One day I won't need it.

That's what happens to married couples. An expiry date to the love felt?
What if it becomes worse. What if u don't feel it, just me?




Wednesday, June 21, 2017, 12:22 AM
People like us

People don't always think like you.
Its not all about you.

It took me awhile to get this into my head.
The world did not go through the same mental abuse that you did while growing up and thinking that all I had to do was to run in athe hamster wheel and chase anything that affirms my looks because a girl's asset is one cast and reflected in what thy can gain through male affirmation.

My friends pulled my out of the jungle where I was tangled in vines holding me to the endless pursuit of excellence. A standard only achievable by photoshop and digital features. I wanted what possible any victim of self hate wanted. To not feel lesser than a valued member.

But really it was never worth it. I achieved so much affirmation from odd sources, experience things beyond what I thought my morals would ever let me achieve  and still it felt like they were just false judgements and needed more; like a needful manifestation.

My friends pulled me out, taught me what goes beyond glamor and self hate articles. They made me realize that I could be anything I wanted, I set out to be me. I planned to crush all the constructs previously written in my conscious. Tainted by the expectations of society. I felt wholesome without a man. I knew then, that I needed to love myself.

On bad days like these, I question if it's worth it to take what u know u might lose. To open yourself to the possibility of failure and now unimaginable pain.

Then I see our picture. I tell myself we are different. I tell myself it's a bad day and to move out of it.




Friday, May 05, 2017, 10:00 AM
Mounds of clay

It tries to alter the form with every pair of hands that embraces it.
But it's losing its elasticity 
It's wrinkling up.

I know what they want out of me.
I am fully aware.
But here I am just trying to find my own peace of mind and now I have to be responsible for another.