Liew Life

Sitting beside the full glass windows, with my oat latter in hand, I watch the city slowly wake up. It’s still early  – just past seven – and the light is gentle, not yet harsh. It spills over the table, across my skin, like it’s saying  good morning  without words. The café is quiet, save for the faint sound of milk frothing and the clinking of spoons against porcelain. Everything feels still, like the world hasn’t remembered how to rush yet.    For once, I don’t want to move either. I just sit there, breathing, letting the warmth of the cup match the warmth of the sun. I don’t think about the next schedule. I just want time to go slow – not crawl, not stop – just slow enough for me to notice everything: the floating dust in the sunlight, the curve of steam rising, the rhythm of people walking outside.   And then, almost uninvited, a thought crosses my mind:  becoming time is hard . Because time never changes its pace. It never pauses for our heartbre...

Sitting outdoors has never really been my thing. I’ve always found comfort within walls – the kind of silence that feels safe, the kind of space that feels mine. A room with no expectations, where the world doesn’t look in and I don’t have to look out. But today felt different. Something gentle, almost unexplainable, nudged me out of that comfort. And here I am, at a café where the view stretches wide: bricks rising like warm shoulders, green leaves spilling over the edges, clouds drifting like slow dances in the distance. The sun leans lower, pouring out its last rays like a goodbye that doesn’t want to end, and the wind brushes against me – cool, unhurried, almost tender.    For a moment, it feels like Bali. The air, the vibe, the calm rhythm of nature. As if the ocean is just out of sight, waiting with open arms. It’s not Bali, of course, but my heart believes the illusion. After so long, I am here, outside, and I am finally breathing.    I open my laptop, its glo...

Just wanna laugh. I opened my laptop with full intention to write my blog – and then it hit me.  I broke the streak.   The streak I’ve been proudly keeping all year: one post, every month, without fail. And now, it’s gone. Quietly. Slipped away without warning.    Honestly, I don’t even know how to feel about it. Part of me is… okay with it? Maybe even a little proud.  Because it means I’ve been so caught up in life, in  doing  things, in being productive – that I didn’t even realize the time passed. But another part of me, the part that made this commitment on New Year’s Day, feels a bit disappointed. Like I let a small version of me down. The kind of disappointed that no one else might understand – but I do.    It might seem like a small thing to others.  But to me, it mattered.    Well, let the past be past. What matters is this moment – this month.  And this month… I turned 27.   No big surprises, no loud celebrat...

Here I am again. Still trying to keep my blogging streak alive – though let’s be honest, it’s more of a “monthly” streak than anything else. Today, I’m sitting in a café with a full glass wall, watching the rain hit the pavement. The reflection shimmer on the wet ground, swirled by a bit of wind. It’s peaceful in a strange way.    Life’s been so busy lately that I barely have time for myself. But even in the chaos, I feel like I’m moving forward. Like I’ve entered a new chapter. I’m focusing more on the things I actually enjoy, meeting people who inspire me, and starting most mornings with a smile – even if I end the day exhausted, at least I end it a little wiser.   Most days, I wake up at 4:30 a.m. If I’m even five minutes late, traffic turns into a nightmare. Days blur into weeks, weeks into months. And every morning, as I see so many cars on the road, it hits me – I’m not alone. We’re all fighters in our own way. Fighters of life. Sometimes I catch myself comparing my...

Here I am again–seated in my favourite spot, oatmilk vanilla latte in hand, the soft hum of the coffee shop wrapping me like a familiar song. My laptop glows in front of me, but for once, it’s not work that brings me here. It’s that quiet pull to write… to just  be .   This morning, I woke up to the news: the world has a new Pope. Even though I’m not Catholic, I felt something move inside me–like joy blooming in a place I didn’t expect. Isn’t it strange, how a single announcement halfway across the world can stir something so personal in your chest? Like the world decided to change overnight–while I was fast asleep, drifting through nothing in particular.    It made me wonder: how many things in this world are shifting while we’re unaware? While we’re just brushing our teeth, cooking breakfast, stuck in traffic, or just trying another ordinary Tuesday?   And maybe, right now, I’m shifting too.    In just a few weeks, I’ll be walking into a new chapter....