2016: The Year I Felt Like an A-Sized Breast in a C-Cup Bra

"I just feel like an A-sized boob in a C-cup bra. Like if it had a face it'll be like *looks left and right in confusion*, like what the fuck is going on? 'This does not feel right, I'm just hanging here, what am I suppose to do?'" was how I described 2016 to Sheryl, Sandra and ZY when I tried to articulate my loss sense of purpose thanks to an ongoing creative rut.

For all the unfulfilling mini heart attacks in 2015, this year has been largely uneventful. Maybe it's the universe's way of balancing itself; maybe my memory has failed me further after years of not having to memorize anything. I've been told that countdowns for New Years are overrated and I willfully agree - the stroke of midnight on New Years Eve is no more special than all the other midnights preceded and forgotten. I've never been to a countdown in years, I don't anticipate it but I still find myself promptly peeking out the window year after year when someone on Channel 5 or 8(in my memory it's Pornsak) starts to countdown the last 10 seconds, hoping to see bursts of firework; even if it's far far away.

I always look back and wonder to myself what I would do if given a choice to redo anything. For 2016, I'd probably have applied for an internship at foodpanda and perhaps be $6000 richer, or have just told the director at Starcom my period of availability was 6 months, despite not knowing my enlistment dates. Or in the midst of my laziness to operate my brain, get a no-brainer job as the person who tells you to eat these green pills 2 times a day after meals and not print your MC on purpose because you seem to be here because you woke up late and didn't make it in time for work. Or recently, take on an offer to travel Seoul with a friend, again that offer was turned down thanks to not knowing when I need to shave. All of this now resides in the back of my mind as a listicle of regrets, complete with an empty notepad as I attempt to turn some into handy jokes I can use in due time. But my brain juices shall resume flowing when I accept that I'm 21.

I shall also remind myself this is what happens when you choose not to be spontaneous and try taking risks, and this year might be made for me to -in Kendall'Jenner's words- experience nothing just to experience it. May I never forget this feeling of emptiness, so I'll live with lesser regrets from here on.

But I must give credit where it's due. I got to travel twice, one of it being free(thanks TSL!), picked up photography from Audrey(once again, thanks TSL), forged genuine friendships with the most unexpected and talented people which I'm comforted by the fact that we still meet every once in a while. As sacrilege as it may be, got both my Malay wedding and clubbing experience's cherries popped, both of which resulted in me wanting to puke, one was thanks to alcohol, the other because my uber driver was freaking insane. You can work out which is which. Kept a friendship since secondary school and made it down under to Melbourne with no parental advisory included. This companionship is projected to be quite solid for the coming years and quite importantly, be perfectly adequate with being single.

Maybe my year hasn't been all that unhappening after all, the exciting parts were all clumped in the beginning and the universe filled recent times with blocks of well, time, to balance it out once more. In spite of everything, I've picked up more than I have lost, learned more than I have forgotten and none of them included my weight. My glass is slightly more than half-full, but it is more than just fine, I'm not a big on drinking anyway.

Cover photo from WHERETOGET. Please don't sue me, it's a new year.