be nice to notra dame

Over hearing the news of the fire at the gothic cathedral, of course my heart broke. I am a Roman Catholic, so naturally I’d react this way when I hear a church was up in flames.

But this sad emotion was sort lived, after hearing news of people going ham hard on rich people, criticising the rich who immediately donated millions to rebuild the church instead of donating it to the hungry and poor.

Don’t get me wrong! Of course it will be nice to donate it to the poor and hungry all over the world. Yes, those millions could save so many people. I myself volunteer and donate funds and time to help the needy, be it with family or on my own, so I would agree to it. But, I don’t agree on bashing the rich who donated to the church.

My friends and I had similar views on this and hearing their own elaboration really made me more annoyed at the situation.

These wealthy people earned their own hard earned money over the years or even decades and had their own sacrifices to get that wealth and pay taxes that size up to their pay checks. They have responsibilities as bosses to keep their companies alive to make sure their employees get paid. They carry thousands of lives on their shoulders. We, as simpletons with average lives, may not see what they actually go through. We can’t simply say they live a better life by judging their designer clothes. There’s more to each human being’s story.

These wealthy people have their own rights to what they wish to do with their money. It is not an obligation for them to donate to others. Yes, it would be nice if they would donate them to the poor but we shouldn’t be hounding them for it.

The act of donating and volunteering your own time and resources has to come from the heart. I agree that the world would be a much better place if all rich people donated their money, but we shouldn’t be bashing them up for donating to a church if they wanted to.

They believe that the church needs to be urgently rebuilt and that’s their personal belief. Who am I to tell them what to do with their money?

Heck, we all have our own personal biases. If you believe all children should have education, you donate to children’s foundations. If you want to help cure cancer, you donate to research companies. If you want to feed the many hungry in a specific country, you fly there and feed them. If you want to help further the studies of medicine, you might even donate your own corpse to research institutions.

So shouldn’t it make sense that, if they looked up to the cathedral in admiration for various reasons be it religion or inspiration, shouldn’t they be allowed to donate to the church?

Stop hating on them. Just do your own part and stop the blaming :’)

You don’t need to be wealthy to donate money or time to the poor. I know of many volunteers who are living on edge day to day, supporting their children and yet have time and money to spare for the poor.

If you’re at angst about the poor having nothing to eat or having no education etc, do something about it. Don’t push the responsibility to someone else. We all have a part to play to make this world better. Doesn’t mean the rich have more, that they should bear our share of the responsibility.

Stop talking too much about it; do it and show others what to do. Do it because you want to, do it because you feel that in your own personal opinion, it is right and it feels right. Do it because it feeds your soul and your happiness.

On another side, there are people complaining about the rich, being rich…

This was quite alarming. When my friends showed me tweets or articles online about their bitter views of the wealthy people, I got really confused.

I was raised in a family that believed that we should work hard for something if we want it so badly. My parents were classic stories of rags to riches. My dad was an orphan who lived on the streets and studied hard to be a successful man. He didn’t hate on the rich, neither did he give excuses for himself. He always told me that life is what you make it.

Like I mentioned above, most rich people worked hard for their every penny. We shouldn’t be hating on others because they are more successful than us, or are able to buy things we can’t afford.

We lose if we start comparing and hating. But we lose even more if we don’t do anything about our lives and still compare ourselves to others.

Man… what an exhausting week :’)

Amidst all the chaos of emotions and thoughts, I still look towards the light at the end of the tunnel and pray that we’ll all get through this. The world has enough hate and chaos :’) We have global warming to deal with, economic slumps, violence and gun law issues, disease outbreaks and rising suicide rates and more. So please, I beg you, stop letting hate grow.


walk on water

is it possible?

a voice within my subconscious called upon me,

to abandon the ship that is struggling through the high seas,

and to walk on the water with it.


maybe i’m going insane I thought.

i look over at the raging and clashing waves from the deck,

took a deep breath and jumped.



i opened my eyes and i was walking on ice.

the thin ice carried my weight as i walked…

after a few steps, the thin ice stopped.

i looked beyond the step,

and i realised it was water.

this is where i stop walking,

i thought.

“No. Continue.”,

my subconscious spoke to me.

“You are only limited to your own boundaries you set.”,

she begged me to push myself.

and so i did.


i walked and walked,

and as i walked on more,

i felt a weight being lifted.

my mind felt afloat,

my heart spacious and wanting for more,

my feet once tired,

now wants to venture to the ends of the world until i can no longer be on this earth.

now I believe,

that the greatest monsters on earth,

are the ones you create for yourself.

first week at school

recess was bad…

toilet and library I went and back,

while my anxiety consumed me.

the uniform didn’t help either;

3 inches below the knee,

tucked in when it shouldn’t be,

made my heart feel heavier with all that fabric.


toilets were the worst…

the mirrors tell you everything- the truths.

but oddly enough,

as I faced the mirror,

it didn’t say anything to me.

it didn’t dare to say anything…

but I saw it;

the reason why the thought of meeting new people and making friends consumed me,

the reason why abandonment issues locked my heart,

the reason why trust issues paint my skin.


so back and forth I went,

toilet and library I went and back.

alone was my comfort,

alone was safe,

alone was my fort,

that made reality fade.


The above is true 🙂 I did experience that in high school. Let’s just say I had a really traumatic childhood and I probably haven’t full recovered from it but I’m constantly trying. I still remembered my first week in high school really vividly. I didn’t have friends for quite some time because I didn’t dare to speak in class, nor did I dare even reply other people. During recess, I would run off to wait for time to fly in the toilet, or I’d wait and hide in the library reading books. The canteen was scary because it made me feel more alone than being in a classroom full of people who had their own friends. Cliques formed so quickly, it triggered anxiety whenever I had to form groups for assignments and I had to be those “leftovers” who needed to be adopted into some random groups. After that I really tried, to change and I did. I’m still figuring out my life and work out my insecurities 🙂 I’m hopeful.

If you went through something traumatic too, or still struggling to recover from your past experiences or even yourself, I’d love to hear from you and share some love too :’)

steady storm

being still and doing nothing are two very different things.

be at peace with your friend,

be at peace with your lover,

be at peace with your family,

be at peace with yourself.

don’t let your own lies bring you down,

don’t let your own critique swallow you whole.

be steady,

be calm,

be honestly happy with you.


getaway car

you were my youth,

my first taste of escape.

if i could choose,

i’d still wouldn’t have it any other way.

you hurt me yes,

but you still gave me the happiest days.

now in my wisdom days,

i appreciate you as my john ross,

and that i,

in this lifetime,

can only be your betsy.

i’ve come to love,

i’ve come to be loved,

more than you made me thought i deserved.

just like a getaway car,

fast with passion,

we roared like the wind,

but weren’t destined to go very far.

you are my getaway car.