Journal Entry 4: morning light

When I’d go for early morning swim sessions, I’d love it when the light would hit the water, refracting and also illuminating the murky sea of aqua blue. I would always think the water would wash away my stresses completely, but no, it was just temporary relief. I see my world revolving around water. Water is in my dreams. It’s in rivers or beaches in Tasmania and I’m always with my baby who is holding my hand. She is like a mini version of her dad.


Photo by Ksenia Chernaya on Pexels.com

I want to sit in the sun and read a book. I want to let go of all my fears and anxieties. I want to embrace the future and all the uncertainties that come along with it. I want to sip on some tea in a warm blanket because even though the early morning sun is hitting my face, it’s still icy cold during winter. I want to run my hand over the bump beneath my jumper, finally feeling excitement and joy. I want a ring on a finger, maybe just to feel some sense of security and comfort. In my dreams.


I’m walking the streets of Beirut admiring the French influence in the city. For once, I’m someone else.


We are at a symphony in one of those massive auditoriums. I can feel the heat of your arms radiating against mine and I so desperately long to touch you, to hold you, to kiss you. Then the music starts, the lights dim and they start playing some music from the Lord of the Kings or whatever. I don’t really care, just as long as I’m with you


An IKEA crib will do. My bank balance doesn’t agree.


You will see the world as I see it, full of death and destruction. We are a world divided because we choose to be. Their can be no peace in the chaos.

#StopAsianHate, #BlackLivesMatter, #MeToo & #FreePalestine – a world built upon racism, segregation, discrimination, apartheid, colonisation and sexism. These should be problems of the past but it’ll haunt our children in the future. How many lives need to be lost until we wake the f*ck up?

Why haven’t we implemented gun control laws? Why are we still debating a woman’s right to choose? Why the f*ck is a gun less regulated then a uterus?!


It’s the first time I’ve ever been to a jazz bar. It smells of alcohol and it is exactly how I imagined it to be. Dim lighting and mediocre musicians playing live jazz music on big instruments that I cannot name. My belly now bulging is like the visual equivalent of a fire alarm.


It’s a summer morning and the heat is stifling. I almost choke on the air, stumbling over to the sink for a glass of water, I look back and see you.


I’m just outside of Kuala Lumpur at a night market with my mum and cousins. We walk along the different stalls, the smell of freshly cooked noodles fills the air and I’m completely mesmerised by how this one man uses the wok. The green leafy-like vegetables mixed in with lightly-browned noodles and eggs. We will have a feast tonight.


Some short films from SOS are playing on SBS late at night. I remember my dad sleeping heavily, snoring. This clothes are tattered and he smells like the farm. I cannot get away from the smell of the farm. I wanted to be like him, white. Maybe even a boy just so he would like me more. The rejection of gender, of self, and of everything that I looked like. Of everything that I was and still am. Even now the icy cold winter air prickles my nose like it did back on the farm.


The sonographer has a probe inside me, moving it around left to right, up and down. I’m so uncomfortable but I can see you on the screen. I can see she’s measuring your heart rate. I can see the little flicker on the screen, perhaps the only highlight of my day.


I’m given a pair of headphones when I arrive at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. I walk around, pacing and staring in awe at the genius of these paintings. I wish I savored these moments a little more.

The trams in Amsterdam are much more advanced then in Australia. It’s like they were built in the future!

black snow

Photo by Irina Kraskova on Pexels.com

When we open ourselves up to others, we inherently make ourselves vulnerable. We open ourselves up to the possible criticisms of others, the stigma surrounding our actions, or at times, blatant abuse. I don’t really talk personally to many friends about the intricacies of my everyday life as a result. I keep most things to myself. Accepting that my mind is not impenetrable to the criticisms of others is something I’m getting used to. I actively seek to protect my own mental health. I give away bread crumbs now. Not many of my close friends really read this blog, in fact I’m not really sure anyone does. It’s why sometimes I can be cryptic or allusive in the way I write.

I’m frustrated and lonely. I have never felt this alone in my life. I’m confused and scared. I want to be grateful for this life and in so many ways I am. I am lucky and I know it. Sometimes I feel this incompleteness within myself.


Love is weird. Love is amazing and tragic. We hold on too tight and it can be suffocating. Sometimes we don’t care enough and then we neglect the person we love most. It’s a balancing act. I think there’s an element where I prefer to distance myself, it’s easier to let go if you never fully invested into someone to begin with. It’s harder to let go when you envision a future. It’s harder to let go when that future becomes tangible. The possibility of moving in, getting married or starting a family are all a lot harder to let go of when it all becomes tangible. No longer just hopes and dreams, but something that could come to fruition. I don’t think in actuality we ever let go of our trauma, we just learn to live with it. It’s like a shard of glass in the body, you don’t ever really get rid of it, you just learn to live with the pain.


The world is changing and so is my body. It’s all so scary. Perhaps because the world really isn’t ‘getting better.’ The world has been experiencing a chronic cold for the past century. However, I don’t think the term ‘cold’ quite really conveys the gravity of what’s been happening. From the Holocaust, Korean War, Vietnam War, the Gulf War, Rwanda, 9/11, Iraq War, Syrian Civil War and now the Ukraine Invasion, as well as a whole bunch of natural disasters like hurricane Sandy, the Tonga Tsunami or flash flooding in Yemen, needless to say our world is a sh*t show. Nothing is normal. It’s like the world keeps fracturing itself, maybe even purposefully. There have been no attempts to heal the wounds of the past.


Social Media Break: From an Anti-socialite

I love this photo. It speaks volumes about how even with COVID-19 restrictions lifted, we (society) cannot find ways to get off our electronics or social media. After my health issues this year, I slowly started realising more and more about myself and how all of my passions that used to define me, eventually slowly started my mental health decline.

My passion and love for politics, my love for my university studies and my desire to change the world rapidly changed over the past few months. After studying The Holocaust for an entire semester, my outlook on life was bleak. I genuinely believe in all my heart now that even if a newer generation of young politicians find themselves in government, radical, systemic change is unlikely to occur.

Political, religious, ethnic, sex or class divides are too deeply entrenched into global societies. There will never be peace in Israel-Palestine or in Myanmar. Religious values encroaching upon governments can, will and have restricted women’s rights to easily access contraceptives or abortions (although this is not true for all countries).

I once defined myself by learning about global issues in an attempt to change them, to create a more unified global community. The realisation that I alone cannot do it hit me like a basketball to the face. Maybe it was my youth and naivete that drove me to such conclusions, either way, I don’t regret it. Although I realise now I’d much rather clean up the mess of politicians then to be one myself, it opened my eyes up to the hardships others experience and how I am lucky in the coin toss of the birth lottery.

I used to yearn to understand the lived experiences of others, others in Third World countries, those living under oppressive regimes or people who have experienced war or famine. I now understand that I will never be able to comprehend others, their heartbreak, loss or grief unless I myself am put into these extreme circumstances. How could I ever understand what it is like to slowly lose my child to famine or cholera? Simply reading about it is inadequate.

I have a deep appreciation for my degree. Although it is not complete yet, it has truly given my life so much more meaning. Knowledge is power. I will never take for granted all that I have learnt.

What I realised however, was that all the media do is post negative stories. Everyday, everywhere, my feeds on Instagram, Twitter or Facebook were full of only the bad events occurring. There were minimal signs or posts of positivity, eventually the thought of waking up made me feel dreadful. I do believe purging myself from social media has helped immensely with this.

Although I do not pretend there aren’t real issues in the world, I do believe taking a step back has helped me to take greater care with my mental health. Breaking out of bad habits which negatively impact my life will help. It already has.

Life is too precious and fragile to keep expecting change without working for it. As cliche as it sounds, my new goal is to live in the moment and embrace each day as it comes by.