I could tell...

I was thinking of writing an autobiography of myself, for myself and my daughter (in future).

I could write about how and where I was raised in Singapore. I should tell of how I manifested my creative wild side while my parents were busy threatening to divorce, working and swearing at each other. Or how I thought it was normal to have a maid as a surrogate mother because the real one would come home at 12am each day. I never was too brilliant at school, really, I was too busy drawing comics, planting vegetables in the garden every recess because I was head of the Science Club, petting hamsters at the pet farm just outside my classroom, smelling flowers in the Peranakan garden with my then bestfriend A., showing our love to each other by hiding tidbits in each other's bag only to be surprised at homework time at home, swinging off monkeybars and forming library clubs to trade storybooks.

I should write about the music I listened to, I love The Carpenters, Bread and The Beetles, I dreamed of becoming skinny like Karen (who died of anorexia) and a hippie. I listened to The Eagles a lot too, before I found out that they were Satanic. My favourite movie would be Forrest Gump, I'll watch and re-watch it twice a year, just enough to remember all the tiny details and soundtrack tunes in my head, but not enough to bore me.
I could tell of all the times I fell painfully in love, and couldn't get up for ages. I would write about my immense liking for height & rollercoasters, Disneyland, and caramel apples. I would like to bungee jump and skydive someday.

The books I'd hide at home to read, the tunes that strummed from the piano as my fingers wobbled on the keyboard an hour before my piano teacher would come. It was such cacophonous sounds, I thought of giving up completely because of my non existant talent to play. Or how I was such a bad dancer in my early years of ballet, I felt like a frog in class because I could never tighten the gap between my knees at first position (I learnt in my later years that it was because I had skinny thighs and slight bow legs) but enjoyed it tremendously nontheless, like floating on music. I think, it was Grace which captured me.

Along the way down hallucination lane, I began to learn of the harsh gut piercing truth of my existance, the betrayal of all the men in my life, and that people weren't all that I had thought of them to be. People will always fail. God wouldn't.

At the end of the day, despite my whereabouts or disposition, the most important understanding is that, I always did it my way.