My English AND Malay are going to shit.
Soon I'll probably be speaking and writing
a hybrid language that no one will understand...
and I'll get pissed off with those people for being "idiots".
Anyway, still here.
Still forming semi-coherent sentences.
So the boat is still floating, for now.
Lately I've been thinking
a lot about earning $20-$30K a month,
so I can afford a nice apartment in the Marina Bay area.
No.
A goddamn penthouse.
A huge one.
With a lawn in which I'll plant a Magnolia tree or two in.
Hey man, hey.
I'm reasonable.
It doesn't HAVE to be in the Marina Bay area, sure.
But the place needs to have nice parks
and wide open sidewalks for the Littlest Dictator and my wife.
Doing it mainly for them.
I could probably live in a fucking hut.
But sometimes I get
hit by memories of how I lived in a tiny apartment,
and had to get up early in the morning and take a cold shower sometimes.
How uncomfortable it was for me to go to school,
how much I hated it.
Not because of the studying,
but everything else around it.
From the journey,
to the social interactions,
to the punishments I'd get for arriving late.
I know... I know... that's part of everyday life.
But there were so many unnecessary pressures, and pain.
We didn't have the money.
We weren't dirt poor,
but I realize now that we were.
And I'm desperate to make sure
my little girl doesn't live that kind of life.
Every day we live with my parents,
in another step towards that kind of life
and it scares me.
I mean it's fucking crazy.
I'm earning significantly more than the average Singaporean.
And yet here I am,
still stuck in a room with my parents and siblings,
a small crisis away from sucking my family and I
back into that old life.
No.
Not going to happen.
Well enough of that.
