Letting my body adjust as my period slows. Resting more, not too much. Training the mind to quiet, and set aside.

I’m defensive, going up against imaginary scenarios. Practice stress runs I need to eliminate. I should be tackling problems as they come. Not wrestling the variables.

Reading plenty and light. Reading as distance. Returning to a diary helps. A timeline, where my personal life comes through.

The impossible velocity will leave me breathless. Few things move quicker than when I am motivated by good intentions.

Funhouse mirror. The difference between bread and stones. Relevant. Reminder. Pathways.

No one wants to see a fully loaded lorry on the fast lane.

A man is dutiful when he gives up his chair, opens his wallet. A woman is dutiful when she does everything else.

My mother praises me — you have lost weight from the back. Loaded words, full of history.

I always attract conversations with the hospital guards. This one has been particularly keen from the first day, even though I’ve not responded beyond polite nods of acknowledgement, even to questions.

Today we end up with conversation. Where are your siblings? I say I only have one, in Melbourne. I do not say she is currently in Sunway Lagoon with her children.

He tells me about his divorce. His wife left him, so he came here from Sabah, for work. The other guard asks if he was too ugly. They’re a bit of a Timon and Pumbaa duo. Cartoon voices too. He describes the best ways to get to the train station.

I’ve never seen them talk to anyone else, but a pretty woman crosses the parking lot, and they yell teasingly at her across the fence. Is her car missing? She laughs, I assume they’ve interacted before.

My father calls, screaming at my mother over the phone. My sister has not replied his message. How is he to know which hotel they’re at? So what if he knows, there are two there, what if he’s wrong.

My mother rationally replies that they are meeting for dinner on Monday, surely he will know by then where they stay. He continues yelling. His narcissist self.

I have been standing at the bedside, wagging my finger at my mother to get the phone from her, demanding to speak to him. I have some mighty amount of yelling to do myself. Mom refuses to hand me the phone, and I do not wish to wrest it from her. Mom knows my temper when I explode, I guess she does not wish to see it here. Avoid confrontation.

My migraine worsens because truly, he is the hantu.

Told off a man for parting the curtains, looking in and saying “if you’re throwing those used diapers, they go in the yellow bin”.

I told him wtf don’t peep into a curtained area. He didn’t react and walked off, so I followed him and had a public confrontation in front of the nurse’s station and other patients.

He apologised. And immediately followed up with saying he didn’t do anything, certainly didn’t look even though he stuck his whole head in.

I hate that this is the attitude of the staff when they’re caught doing something they shouldn’t. Deny that they did it, even if it were right in front of me, with other witnesses.

My mother is indignant.