His face

Seeing his face was like experiencing Christmas in a glance.

It’s like admiring those pretty fairy lights hanging on trees.
It’s like appreciating the evanescence of fireworks lighting up the skies.
It’s like the excitement of opening presents and the thrill of giving special things to special someones.
And it’s like feeling that sense of bliss and comfort, knowing that loved ones are right beside you.
…all at once.

Seeing his face is that burst of excitement and the blush of embarrassment.

It’s like reminiscing the mountains and appreciating the valleys.
It’s like that lingering bittersweet taste of rich dark chocolate; one that makes you crave for more, but bits at a time.

His face. His voice. His eyes. His smile.
It felt like a split second. It felt like eternity.
It felt like warmth on a cold winter day.
And his face, it was exactly like Christmas in a glance.

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The Morning After I Killed Myself By Meggie Royer

The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.

I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass. I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels.                                    

The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed.

The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighbors’ yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few daylilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her her daily medication.

The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping stones, the river and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach.

The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldn’t finish what I started.

Wow. I wonder.

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Those in the light might not always speak the truth…
While those in the dark might not always be in the wrong.

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The Hao

The Hao FINALLY set foot in Aussieland! (: Oh boy, I miss this man terribly.

And because we’re similarly weird, we ended up only taking photos when the rest of the gang joined us for dinner. And really, they’re such cool people!


It’s amazing just being amongst them. I doubt I’d ever be able to blend into groups again; I have come to realise that I’m just not that sort of person. I prefer one-to-one relationships as opposed to one-to-two or more. But just noticing how they have their differences, how they call each other out and yet never saying things with any hint of judgement, leaves me in awe.

It does make me contemplate much. Maybe, it isn’t so much that I’m bad in group settings. Maybe, I just haven’t found the right group of people who would accept my flaws and idiosyncrasies without a tinge of judgment. Maybe, I’ve just been hanging around the wrong group of people all along. And maybe, one day I’ll prove all my maybes right!

Well, that probably explains why I never seem to be hanging out in groups for long anyway. I’m unblendable. 

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You sank too low. But that totally justified my decision to cease any form of contact way before the full extent of your drama exploded.

Believe what suits you. At the end of the day, no matter how flawed I am, I don’t deserve to be verbally abused by you like this.


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I see it.

Mirror mirror on the wall,
I know I’m the ugliest of them all.

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My son, you will live when you are remembered; when you are believed in.

Maybe, Maybe.

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Dear Stranger

What happened to us?

Dear Stranger,

I saw you from afar, but I could not find that familiar pair of eyes I used to know. I remember it to sparkle with life and happiness. I remember it to be joyful and full of curiosity. I remember you.

But the pair of eyes I saw yesterday was full of pain and strain; a pair of eyes so distant, I wasn’t too sure how to approach and what to say.

What happened, my dear friend?

I wish I could’ve shamelessly insist on my position as your friend, but that form of obtrusiveness isn’t part of how I am. Yet I guess, my lack of this fighting spirit led to a divergence of our paths, bringing us to that point where we can only look at each other from afar, reminiscing about a past we once shared but no longer having any impetus to approach a possible future together.

I’m sorry, my dear stranger. My idiosyncrasies were too much for two. But I’m sure you have better friends now; those who might be able to bring back that light in your eyes. And one day, maybe, I’ll see those eyes sparkling with life and zeal once again. That, would be a future of you I would look forward to, even from afar.

I loved you, my lovely stranger.

Radio silenced,
Your unfamiliar being

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Who would heed the words of a ghost?
Who would listen to the whisperings of the wind?

For the ghost would be derided, defamed and disposed.
For her words, while true to the heart, are hard for the ears.

The fake sense of comfort and the established face have become such huge considerations, happiness no longer sits on the throne.

So who would heed that ghostly voice in the wind?
The one that fights for bliss, but fights in vain.

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To be your light

Were you born to resist, or abuse?

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In the end


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Damned and disposed. 

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ChibiTng’s first long solo road trip

Long story short: Sufficient impetus and a personal mission. So I planned, packed, went.

This is officially my first long solo road trip.

10 days. 9 nights. 2278km

I’m probably being extremely reckless and ballsy to travel alone like this; sleeping in the car, going to areas with no mobile reception, going for long walks in national parks alone etc… Besides putting myself in mortal danger, I thought I would’ve died from the cold, since it was the peak of winter.

But, fortunately (or not), I LIVE. Not only that, I think I’ve finally awoken the insatiable wanderlust in me. Of course, I wished for the comforts of home and the company of friends at times. But despite all the moving around and the horrible mess it entails, I relished in this sense of freedom and movement. That being said, such explorations would be way more enjoyable if it were done with like-minded travel partners.

Overall, these are my findings (sigh, the colloquial of a student):

  • If possible, don’t sleep in your car. It’s really like an ice box in winter, and I was told that it’s a furnace in summer.
  • Use the front passenger seat as your bed if you need to sleep in your car. Leg-stretching is not exactly the privilege only reserved for the tall.
  • If you like your morning coffee/tea/milo/all-that-jazz, I suggest you bring a water boiler (if you’re camping in powered sites). It saves you shitloads of time.
  • If possible, stop by the town’s information centre. They have tons of free maps and place suggestions that you might not find online. And TOILETS, yes, toilets!
  • Really, travel with someone.

Deciding that the coastal track was way too cliche, I went inland. And, DISCLAIMER: this is the only other time I’ve used a selfie stick. Oh god, I felt so hipster.

Not my whole collection of photographs, but these ought to suffice in painting the picture of my trip.

Day #1: Brisbane to Nanango

Wivenhoe Dam



Moore to Linville Railway Trail



Trail left uncompleted.
Reasons: No mobile reception. No one in close proximity to come to my aid if anything happens. Need to reach the caravan park before sun-down.

The day ended with Homestead Caravan Park (Nanango). It was one of the most comfortable stay, despite not having any kitchen facilities. I ended up making friends with a couple of the permanent residents there and, being so well-travelled, they advised me on the routes I should take for my own safety. It was so pleasant that I stayed there the second night.

Kirin (my car!) and me. Oh boy, how messy.

Kirin (my car!) and me. Oh boy, how messy.

The only bitch that likes me. Lol.

The only bitch that likes me. Lol.

First night's sleeping arrangement

First night’s sleeping arrangement

Day #2: Bunya Mountains



Tim Shea falls

Tim Shea falls

Festoon falls

Festoon falls

Paradise falls

Paradise falls

Little falls

Little falls

Pine Gorge Lookout

Pine Gorge Lookout

Huge fig tree!

Huge fig tree!

View on the way to Barker Creek Lookout

View on the way to Barker Creek Lookout

Barker Creek lookout

Barker Creek lookout

Fisher Lookout

Fisher Lookout

Dandabah Camping Grounds

Dandabah Camping Grounds

The walks were not too challenging (obviously, I chose the easier ones). But it’s not exactly fun (and safe) when you’re walking in the forest alone and when the tracks are not always obvious. Still, the views were amazing.

Night 2 sleeping arrangements AND BEYOND!

Night 2 sleeping arrangements AND BEYOND!

Day #3: Nanango to Murgon

Misty (and cold) morning to start the day

Misty (and cold) morning to start the day

Bjelke-Peterson Dam






AND SLEEPING! ohmygod...

AND SLEEPING! ohmygod…

This is possibly the most magical dam I’ve visited so far. I was graced with spectacular nature shows, such as flocks of birds flying just above the water surface and birds diving into the water and up again… Plus, it was the first time I saw unfenced horses sleeping in the field!

The day ended in Barambah Bush Caravan Park. It was comfortable, but in my personal opinion, the campsite gave me a ‘trying-too-hard-to-create-the-camping’ feeling. So while it provided good facilities, the experience of camping there was rather average.

Day #4: Murgon to Maryborough

Boat Mountain Conservation Park





The views were stunning, but you’ve got to be there in person to appreciate it. The tall trees inhibit amazing photographs, but there’s a 360 degrees view of the surrounding mountains. It was amazing.

Hervey Bay, Uranga Pier


The long long Uranga Pier

The long long Uranga Pier

The pier at the end.

The pier at the end.

My day ended with Wallace Motel and Caravan Park. The caretaker was really congenial. Long story cut short, he’s one of those caretakers that place more importance on the convenience and comfort of his customers instead of just trying to earn money. *thumbs up!*

I guess, this is what I’d look for in caravan parks. Owners who aim to meet their customers’ needs rather than just focusing solely on monetary gains.

Day #5: Maryborough to Bundaberg

Queen’s Park





The streets of Childers

The streets of Childers

Millennium  Park

Millennium Park

The Old Pharmacy

The Old Pharmacy

I can't remember the significance of this statue...

I can’t remember the significance of this statue…

War and military museum

War and military museum. Sigh, some things inside were very heart wrenching.

Historical Village

Historical Village

Post office

Post office

The old butcher shop

The old butcher shop

Childers is an interesting town, although not one that I would consider living in. Tons of historical references there.

The day ended with Burleigh Heads Lighthouse Holiday Park. Amenities and kitchen facilities were adequate for a comfortable stay.



Day #6: Bundaberg to Biggenden

Bundaberg was the furthest I planned to travel to for this road trip. After this, I made my way back down to Brisbane.

Innes Park, Herb Muller Park, Barolin Esplanade

Innes Park

Innes Park

Innes Park

Innes Park

Innes Park (yes, I get it. I'm obsessed with this park...)

Innes Park (yes, I get it. I’m obsessed with this park…)

Views of Barolin Rocks from Herb Muller Park

Views of Barolin Rocks from Herb Muller Park

Barolin Esplanade

Barolin Esplanade

Barolin Esplanade

Barolin Esplanade

The roads and the beaches reminded me of Cairns, yet Bundaberg feels different. Can’t really put my finger on it, but I’m already thinking of my next trip there.

Boolboonda Tunnel


Photographs of this tunnel would be meaningless if there isn’t any nonsensical human doing idiotic stuff. So yeah, selfie mode.

Normanby & Schuh Lookouts

Normanby and Schuh Lookouts

Normanby and Schuh Lookouts

‘Wow’ was all I could say.

This is the most India-ish Aussie gets.

This is the most India-ish Aussie gets, I think!

I spent the night in Mountain View Caravan Park. The owner was kind enough to let me use the kitchen’s electricity for free, seeing that I was only staying for one night and would be sleeping in my car. *thumbs up!* Additionally, he would also go around the park to check if everything was well with the residents. Ahh, nice caravan park owners. *thumbs up again!*

Day #7: Biggenden to Gympie

Rainbow beach



I didn’t exactly see any rainbows, neither was it as magical as some other beaches I’ve been to. Still, Rainbow Beach is definitely worth visiting. And yes, you CAN actually drive your 4WD ON the beach.

I ended my day in Standown Caravan Park. The most scenic park amongst all.

Day #8: Gympie to Kingaroy

Mothar Mountains Rock Pool



It’s pronounced as ‘mother’.

Kinbombi Falls


Really nice place for a picnic. Unfortunately, it’s not wet enough (don’t mean to sound wrong. okay, maybe I do, but just a bit).

Wooroolin Wetlands


The night was spent in Kingaroy Showgrounds. Probably the most disappointing caravan park amongst all. Maybe my standards were raised by the previous caravan park owners, but I personally wouldn’t go back there if given a choice.

Day #9: Kingaroy to Dalby

Jimbour Garden


Lake Broadwater


The air perpetually smell of pee.

Jondaryan Woolshed

(No photographs, though)

Was told by my friendly Nanango camping neighbours about it. This was my second visit to an open air museum (first would be in Herberton, Cairns). As with all museums, it’s more about experiencing the displays personally, rather than looking at photographs.

My night was spent in Glasby’s Caravan Park. While this park doesn’t exactly provide any kitchen facilities (only rainwater for drinking), I felt extremely comfortable there. The owner and the residents were really kind and caring. Knowing that I’d be sleeping in the car, one of the residents actually left her blanket outside her caravan for me. Ahh, the nice people you get to meet…

The orange-est sunset I've ever seen. (Alas, not very clearly reflected in the photo)

The orange-est sunset I’ve ever seen. (Alas, not very clearly reflected in the photo)

Day #10: Dalby to Home

Crows Nest National Park








Murphy’s Creek


I ended up cutting the trip shorter by 1 day for various reasons. But in all honesty, I headed back to Brisbane with a heavy heart. There were a few more places I wanted to visit, but they were closed. And a part of me was dreading to lose sight of the magnificent views of the mountains.

The never tiresome view.

The never tiresome view.

Still, this trip was probably the craziest and most daring thing I’ve done alone so far. But it was an important that trip I had to make; a matter of now or never. I was indeed alone, but I wasn’t too, at the same time.

Anyhoo… How can one conclude a road trip without trying new things?

This taste like cucumber.

This taste like cucumber.

This reminds me of  Meatlug in How to Train your Dragon! I'm still waiting for it to ripe...

This reminds me of Meatlug in How to Train your Dragon! I’m still waiting for it to ripe…

Got them from one of the markets I went to. I was really intrigued by the weird looking fruits, so naturally, I asked the seller shitloads of questions. She ended up giving those fruits to me for free, in the name of exploration and ‘trying new things’! Not the first time that happened!

The random musings of The Tng

I reflected much during this period. I remember a comment that made me felt like an imbecile at that point of time. I was told that I needed to be more knowledgable; something I don’t deny at all. One has got to keep learning, isn’t it? Yet, how does one measure the degree of being knowledgable? While I might never gain all the bouts of knowledge in the world, I make do, learn along the way and survive. Would it be wrong to live like such?

I guess, you don’t need all the knowledge in the world just to live, because it would be gained in the process of living. You observe, you listen, you learn. But from my very limited pool of knowledge, I’d say you probably need more balls. Because it takes courage to look like a fool, to make mistakes and to learn.

It was a good trip, full of ups and downs (literally and figuratively). Some nights really felt like they weren’t going to end, but thankfully, they did. I guess, this trip made me realise how the heart can ache when one looks at the sky full of stars. Somehow, the beaches, in all its glory, is actually capable of losing its magic. And I probably also realised how, at times, I wish I can shrug off that need and portrayed front of being independent, strong and individualistic, and just have someone to be strong for me when I can only be weak.

But in sum, I’m just grateful to be graced with all the kind people I’ve met along the way and the splendour and beauty of this amazing land. Till next time. (:

I brought you everywhere, but still, I wish you were there.

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Yellow brick wall

Can you hear me beyond this yellow brick wall?
My screams and my cries; my fears and my pain.
Can you hear me behind this thick brick wall?
The wall built on your pain and hardened by your heart.

I would bring down that wall, if it takes my sweat and my blood.
I would tear it down, brick by brick, just for you to hear the whispers in the wind.

Because in isolation, you will hear my voice.
And in desolation, I will be there.

Tell me, can you feel me on the other side of this wall?

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Be back.

What if this time it’s ‘goodbye’ and not ‘see you later’?

Maybe. Maybe.

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To be disposed

Who else?

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I dreamed a dream

Holding it in my heart, I’ll make my love sing
Though I can’t voice it

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Too slow

Idea conceived. Awaiting execution.

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Seventh Six

When a battle is fought to lose, you think not about your losses but about how you can safeguard that which remains.

When scars remind us that the past is real, the pain reminds you that life doesn’t end.

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