Perfectly Imperfect

The goal is not to be perfect; the goal is to be accepted for the imperfections.

Category: Memory Lane

The childhood stories, happy and sad.

Christmas, the Beginning of the End

Christmas, to me, signifies the beginning of the end; a new beginning when the end draws nigh. The religious background aside, Christmas is well celebrated in Singapore – a large city with rich and varied cultures, where racial and religious harmonies have been the highest priorities since her independence. When I was a child, I may not have believed that…

Moon Cake | Fullerton Hotel

Today is the Mid Autumn Festival aka Lantern Festival aka Moon Cake Festival. It is also the 15th day of Lunar calendar. We remember the name of the festival differently. As children, we remember it as the lantern festival because that was the only official ‘legal’ month to play with fire – I mean, lantern! Back then, we lit candles…

Identity Crisis | Aspie Diary

Are you familiar with Identity Crisis? Personally, I think this could be a growing phenomenon in today’s society. If we were to study the developmental stages of different generations – baby boomers, Gen X, Gen Y aka┬áMillennial, we may observe trends of behavioral adjustments and developmental markers. Say, Gen-Xers see the changes from booming of a technology to rocket fast…

Coping Mechanism – Psychoanalysis | Aspie Dairy

I am hardly around strangers now, except for the super friend post-woman who still catches me off-guard when she attempts to make small conversations. I like her, but I have learnt that I am not readily capable to respond to unprepared conversations. I grow up preparing for possible scenarios in a social environment; I assumed everyone did the same –…

Relationship Gone yet Cherished

I wasn’t excited about the graduation. Kindergarten was not enjoyable. The first few days of school were traumatic. They tricked me into the classroom and closed the door behind me while my mother stood at the other side of the door. I screamed, cried, kicked the door and possibly scratched the paint off too – my mother still remembers vividly…

The Aspie Diary | Broken Recorder

Whenever I hear someone says ‘… like a broken recorder’, it strikes a chord. For the longest time, I believed that everyone thinks like me; or at least the brains function similarly. Once in a while – right, that could actually be an understatement, because it’s once in a relatively short while – I have flashbacks of events, to the…

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