We can be as intimate with another as we possibly can, but we’re born alone and we die alone. There are moments and parts of our existence we can’t share with another no matter how hard we try. We can be part of a school, a team, a clique, a relationship, but we remain impenetrably distinct.

So what does Adam and Eve being one means? Surely there is another layer of connection other than sex, other than the mixing of two genomes into one baby.

How could I have failed to notice when our conversations started to disintegrate into competing monologues, when you found me even more boring than talking to a copy of yourself, when I wasn’t happy being a detachable auxiliary appendage in the frame work of your living. I’d rather be alone.

I really enjoy the MRT ride on the way home from work each day. For 1h, I feel strangely protected; my ears free from people talking to me, office small talk, the chaffing loop of the 5 songs on the radio, and the hum of the MRT can drown out any sms/calls I may have received. I can turn on autopilot. And when I feel like it I can stop by clarke quay for a walk or dhoby for bubble tea. I feel happy in an indestructible way. Selfish, I know.

Joke time!

Father (reading bible to son): The man named Lot was warned to take his wife and flee out of the city, but his wife looked back and was turned into salt.
Son: What about the flea?