I used to think that people were innately good. But lately, I’ve realised that we aren’t. We have a wild streak and often behave badly.

But we want to be good. And we often are.

I am constantly being reminded that there is so much goodness in the world.

Today, I was at the police station to pick up a copy of my accident report. (I had a car accident over the weekend and the report was only ready on Monday.)

Waiting my turn at the counter, I realized that I had to pay for the report. “Do they take card?” I asked the guy who was ahead in the line and was almost done with the process.

He asked the policeman behind the counter. Negative.

“It’s not a lot. How much cash do you have?” he asked.

“I have zero,” I said. (Yes, I tend to go cashless most of the time.)

He asked the policeman what my fee was — RM10 — and paid for me. I offered to repay him. Bank transfer, BigPay? He refused, said it was okay.

These random acts of kindness are being done to me all the time. I’m grateful, and it makes me want to strive harder to be good as well.


Sliding open the door to the bar feels like opening the door to go home. It’s familiar, it’s comforting. 

Los Flowerpecker has been my happy place in the last four months. 

I’ve been disappointed by many things in the last quarter of 2018, one of which was the loss of my team. I made the mistake of thinking that we were more than just colleagues, that we were friends as well. 

Water off a duck’s back, is what I tell myself. And LFP is where I feel the most duck-ish. Where I’ve somewhat become part of a new team. 

At LFP, the rest of the world fades away and nothing matters except the now. There’s beauty in standard operating procedures. 

The way the bar tools are laid out before the day’s service starts. How the bottles click against each other as I take them off the shelves, wipe them, put them back up. The straight lines of jiggers and shakers. 

The bar on a busy night is a balancing act between chaos and order. 

The front of house is chaotic — people are indecisive, they’re messy, they don’t know if their friends are going to show up. 

But behind the bar, there is a system. There’s a reason why everything has its place. There’s a reason why you wash dirty glasses anytime you get the chance. 

That confluence of opposing forces and navigating within them makes me come alive. 

Try again

What do you do when you fall off a horse? You take a beat to check on yourself, and then you get back on.

After 18 days of writing 200 words per day, I fell off the horse and missed two days. There’s always the urge to catch up, but the weight of all those unwritten words can become debilitating.

It becomes friction. So I’m dusting myself off and getting back on the horse again. New ride.

In the world of horse-riding, this really seems to be the standard piece of advice. “If you ride, you will fall off,” says an article on The Spruce Pets. (I’m always on the lookout for new hobbies to pick up.)

And in spite of recognising that the possibility of falling is there, the rider still chooses to ride. But not without preparation.

There are ways to avoid falling — by being aware and staying in control of oneself. There are ways to prepare for the fall — by wearing protective gear, having a game plan.

And then, there are proper methods for falling. Know how to release. And when you land, roll away from the horse’s legs. Reduce the damage.

It’s a lot like failing at things in life.


Sometimes all your body wants is enough sleep.

For the last three months, I’ve been battling major skin issues. I wasn’t sure if it was eczema or bug bites. At one point, I even suspected scabies.

I boiled my sheets (and some of my clothes), cleaned my surroundings, slathered on creams. And yet the ugly red marks remained.

Then on Wednesday when my alarm rang at 7am, I said fuck it, turned it off (instead of snoozing) and went back to sleep. At night, I didn’t set an alarm for the next day.

Three days in a row, I got my eight hours of sleep and I began to notice that the red marks looked less angry, slowly blending back into the background of my skin.

In the last few weeks, I’ve been sleeping at between 3-6am. This is normal, for me. The only difference was that I’d been forcing myself to get out of bed between 7-9am.

There are so many things I want to do and I’ve always seen my body as a vehicle. It’s always been a tool to propel me through the day, a shell my mind lives in.

But that mindset doesn’t work.

When the body has had enough, it finds a way to speak. And eventually, bodily harm hurts the mind as well.


Living in grayscale. It feels like that’s what I’ve been doing since I turned off colour on my phone.

Although some people do it to reduce phone usage, I find that it hasn’t brought on that effect for me. 

But while my time spent on the phone hasn’t reduced, it’s changed my phone use behaviour. 

Although I’ve turned off notifications for most social media, I still found myself opening these apps at random times of the day. I still found myself scrolling through aimlessly. 

That is, until I switched to greyscale. 

The first thing that greyscale does is make those apps less noticeable from my home screen. 

When I do click into them, greyscale makes them less engaging. 

What I end up doing is switching to one of my reading apps instead — iBooks, Kindle, Medium. Or even to my Notes app to write. 

Having on greyscale doesn’t make the real world more colourful. It hasn’t made me more focused on the now. It hasn’t made me more mindful. 

It’s just made certain phone activities less interesting, and has created a change in my default behaviour when it comes to phone usage. 

There are days when I think the human brain is much like a computer. There are complex algorithms at play within our grey matter that handle more variables than we are aware of. 

Like AI, our brains need to be trained. So that our bodies do what they should, not what they want. 


Today I finally sat down to work on a couple of my own projects. The aim was to build a bit of a directory of the cocktail bars in Malaysia (that I like or would like to visit).

This serves a dual purpose — to document, as well as to pick up Vue.js where I left off. The goal was to build an app with Airtable as the database and Vue.js to handle the frontend.

However, like the trumpet, coding is something that’s rather unforgiving. Stop practising for a while and you get rusty.

I gave myself a deadline — get the website up by today. But after reading, learning how to use Airtable and trying to set up my local environment for two hours, I was getting nowhere. I ended up with a plain HTML page (without CSS even!) and an embedded iframe.

It’s a start, I suppose. The website is up, and it’s a skeleton of what I imagine it to look like in the future.

The reason I gave myself a deadline was so that I would focus on what was necessary in the present. Right now.

And also because the other part of my day was meant to be spent on my documentary pitch, for which I had blocked out time for as well.

One of the best things about time-blocking is that there’s no such thing as writer’s block. It’s just unacceptable when you’ve got a task to complete within a specific timeframe.

In the midst of all the chaos, I’ve discovered order.


It’s crazy how much one can do, with focus. This morning, I found myself awake at half-past five. (My stomach was acting up last night.)

After reading for a bit, I decided to get an early start on work.

(I do this intermittent sleep thing, not on purpose, but because I have irregular sleep habits. I sleep as much as I can at anytime during the day.)

I completed one assignment, submitted it. Did some agenda planning and research, to make a list of recommendations and next steps for a meeting I have today. I looked at the clock, hoping that I’d have time to go back to sleep. And I did! Heaps!

It turns out, I had done that in less than 20 minutes. There are days when I love the duality of time. Even though the 24 hours in a day seem to go by in a snap, a third of an hour can seem to stretch for an eternity. 

If you’re focused, a lot can be done in an hour. 

Time blocking has proved to be rather effective for me. Besides helping to control my anxiety and that feeling of being overwhelmed, it also helps me to focus. 

One task at a time, don’t even think about anything else. 2000 words in an hour? No problem!