There was once a girl who was so loved by her family, it bordered on obsessive pampering. She was the family favourite; her parents loved her to madness, her grandparents doted on her, her relatives thought she was the apple of their eye - she could do not wrong.
Now, in their well-intended attempt to shield their porcelain doll from the world and all its ugliness, they kept her indoors and tried to teach her the beauty of staying home, untainted. But she was an avid reader, and in her books she found a hunger to see the world.
The world was not kind.
From the time she reaches home till the minute she leaves, she is protected by the love of her family. But outside of this time, she cast herself out into the world, where she quickly learnt only the fighters survive.
It wasn't an easy road. Life reared its ugly head and she saw Singapore in all of her shame, her nitty gritty, her embarrassment. I would go as far to say that her life is laughable. But with each struggle, she fought and she won, standing where she should be kneeling.
The point of this story is - you simply cannot fuck with me.
It is beyond the pathetic way I learnt all of Singapore's judicial laws by heart, it is beyond the vengeful streak that sits in my bones, it is beyond the ease I manipulate people and information to my advantage.
It is me needing to win.
It is not enough I win, you must fall. It is not enough you fall, you must fall miserably. It is not enough you fall miserably, you must fall miserably and all alone. It is not enough you fall all alone, you must fall all alone and spend your nights praying for nightmares to realize because I have made your life a living hell.
In the end, I won't even remember what I won. I won't be too miffed over what my victory is. In the end, all I want to remember is your face slapped with all the pain I managed to triumph over you.
Don't start a war you cannot win, not with me.
Today was a nice day out with my sister to carousell's event and my god are the girls friendly. And accepting. I thank my gods everyday that I found this incredible app.
Also I seriously think I have certain personality traits that only having red hair can unlock. All of my insecurities melted away at the precise moment my hairdresser untied the robe covering my hair. From there on, it has been nothing but uphill arrogance and sass.
Footnote:
Sometime I do wonder what exactly is all of this for.
Sure, it is love, but it doesn't stop the visions and the dreams. It doesn't stop the fact that my past continues to come and haunt me in my sleep, begging me to go back to my solitary days so they'd have company.
Three years ago it was you who said this; today I re-iterate it.
Please (Nicole/ you), stop making me cry in my sleep.
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