20 things I’ve learnt from never being in a relationship


  1. Everyone you date or interact with, will never ever be able to completely as fully accept you for who you are
  2. Your significant other will definitely let you down more than once.
  3. Ninety-nine percent of what fluffiness you feel is most probably hormones, but it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it.
  4. To your surprise, you can actually control yourself very well and will not jump every attractive person you feel attracted to.
  5. The best partner you can be is an honest one.
  6. Communicate.
  7. But give time to communicate.
  8. Stop rushing everything, relationships “goals” aren’t a bucket list to check off
  9. Instead of worrying about whether it will stay or if you will get rejected in the end, learn to enjoy the relationship, whether friendship or not.
  10. If the other person doesn’t care about how you feel and if what they are doing affects you negatively whether emotionally, mentally or physically, nor you them, it might be a sign that it is getting toxic   
  11. Don’t hold too tightly to your romantic ideals and prepare to be disappointed if you intend to act out a Nicholas Sparks movie.
  12. The biggest treachery you can commit is to expect that they are anything less than perfect.
  13. Don’t beat yourself up too much for any mistakes you can make in a relationship. You’re in this together and forgiveness is a key point in this.  
  14. Sometimes, your partner is literally a small child, and you need to make space for that childishness. And when you need to throw your own tantrums, they will make that space for you too. Hopefully. 
  15. Don’t fill in the blanks of unhealthy with compromise.
  16. Do not be afraid to leave when it gets too far.
  17. Love is a constant conscious choice.
  18. Sometimes, at this point, you realise you need time off for yourself and it’s okay. Take that time off. Discover yourself again. Sometimes, you have gotten so lost and invested in another person that you forget who you are before you met them. And that’s okay. Before you can love someone else wholesomely, you have to love yourself wholesomely. Don’t be afraid to care for your original identity.
  19. Don’t lose your connections to other people and other friendships just because you have a relationship. There are more people to meet, more stories to hear than your partner that will help you grow as an individual and provide you with the support you need. Remember, your partner can’t give you everything, and it’s okay to find that in other people.
  20. To love is to learn. Sometimes you will be the student, sometimes you will be the teacher. Learn from each other. Be open to learning from each other. And like a teacher would, tolerate the other’s mistakes. Then, start again.

    In the end, it’s whether a choice if we want to learn in the school of life alone or with a partner. And remember, we have different learning styles. Despite everything, we still learn in the end. And that’s what matters.



My hands were meant for service,

But my heart not for ministry.


It’s been so long since I understood,

That I don’t have to be an usher,

A worship leader,

Or a pastor,

To be a servant of the Lord.


I want to give my life,

Make a change,

Do good where none is given,

But how can I when the perspective of

Servanthood was narrowed to,

Christian and not?


I would have ran,

Ran into a room,

To share a project,

To land a pitch,

Show that life isn’t just tea over devotion,

Or bible reading plans,

But a question is only one that matters.


“That’s great!

But is it Christian?”


How many times have I heard funding being withdrawn,

Pulled back resources,

From NGO’s and child takers,

Just because there’s no evangelistic action?

As if the reason I want to be good,

Was just for religious sanctification.


The steward buried the coins again,

They seeped into the tower on the right of the building,

To the upgraded speakers in it,

Simply to announce the word is good,

While the people’s ears are deaf to things they will never experience.

Don’t label charity as a religion,

Don’t try to twist foundations into nations,

Don’t use this as another chance to discriminate,

To reinforce what you think isn’t innate.



Just show your love.

Support us,

Tell this generation that life is more to it,

Than inside the comfort zone,

Of the walls of our religions.

Back Row

As three people who had control panels on every tab,

Who read the signals and lines like past time,

We never predicted the clashing of our three crazy minds,

When we sat at the back of the class.


One Chinese,

One Malay,

One so mixed she doesn’t know what she is,

Satu Malaysia, muhibah it will be.


We traded our shy hellos and planted conversations,

Watched the friendship grow,

Into a tree of light hearted banter,

Branching to politics and general stupidity of crazy fellows,

And soon,

Our roots started to show.  


One with panic disorder,

Another with OCD,

Another with problems she couldn’t record,

A support group, self love they experts they will be.


It wasn’t always smooth,

We watched each part break down,

Crumble into our phases of hopelessness at different stages,

And we could only stand there with our hands wrung,

Trying to understand the madness

That was mental illness.


Our mouths breathed out a waterfall of sorrys,

Afraid of burdening the other with our problems,

But we learned not to expect,

And instead forgave and forget.


We turned our “I’m sorrys” into “thank yous”,

Our “I hate myself” into “I love yous”.


We painted a constellation with our colourful words,

Dotted the skies with our specks of playful insults,

Watered our garden of weed jokes,

And built the paradise our love ones couldn’t.


And I promise,

I can’t be there for every heartbreak,

Every tear lost,

Every time you had to pay for the cost,

Every forgotten call and hug.


But I promise I will be here,

Right where you need me and how you need me.


When I need a uber to drive a drunk me home,

I know I have one in a Perodua,

From Kota Damansara.


When you need a translator for the languages I understand,

Your favourite blabberer will be by your hand.


When you need paint for the Gundams,

I know there’s one with the money to fund.


I will hold our starred messages within the cracks of my fingers,

Even though Time may slip through like water in our palms,

As we try to hold onto the ropes,

That our boats cling to,

And drift away on the reality of life.


Whether we remain away or we stray back again,

I promise,

Your carvings on my heart,

Will forever remain.


Thank you for making me a better person.


To Rakan Maju Jaya,

Here’s to big dreams and endless hopes

That it will be okay


So Many Ways


There’s only so many ways,

The same poem can be written.


Only so many strokes,

The same portrait can be painted.


Only so many words,

To describe the same scenario.


Only so many feelings,

For the same emotion.


Only so many variations,

The same memory is remembered.


Familiarity breeds contempt,

But longing births misconception.


I’m tired of replaying the same disc,

The gramophone running like a tired marathoner,

Spinning like a merry-go-round of goodbyes and white lies.


Watch the needle dig into those unforgiving lines,

Hear the screech of a cassette tangling,

Tired of the same old cajoling.


There’s only so many ways to play the same tune,

But the earworms still cling,

And the audience demands the encore with applaud.


Repetitive situations are a temptation,


There are only so many ways I can forgive you,

Before blaming myself the same.


So many ways I can hate you,

Till bitter resent towards me it became.


Only so many times I can get sick of it,

Without getting used to it again.


And having to admit to myself over and over,

I’m only back where I began.



I never understood baseball
And friendship for me,
is like baseball;
Wondering why it keeps getting bigger
And then it’ll hit you.

I know, we met rather dramatically
After I nearly fell off the LRT;
Almost losing my train of thought,
Making me go off track,
And thinking wheel this turn out alright?

After that first show we saw,
And our first exchange was about puns,
And I guess you could say we were good at wordplay
‘Cause we didn’t even have to stage it!

Maybe it was the way when we climbed stairs,
You would always take it to the next level;
Maybe just another step
Grazing, the side bar,
Seeing how much we could handle…

When we sat down,
I wondered if you were just doing me a chairity;
Maybe I should just sit this one out.
After all,
I just got out of a broken relationship
I didn’t need another to rock.

And I know,
We just met for two weeks
And the only connection we have, WiFi.
But I threw away my watches;
Guess you can say time out!


But I know we have a relentless God
That’s why we met before Easter.
And we were a little bit too fast,
But our poetry will grow in abundance

And our pun battles
I just can’t pass.

– Yuki Hansa



Shopping is my hobby,

And money was almost never involved.


I am a consumerist of senses

Observation my strongest one


Scanning for salmon free of astaxanthin,


Drinking in the crinkle of plastic wrapped stationery,


Breathing in the taste of capitalism,


Running along shelves

Collecting dust and product quality,

I was the store’s best supervisor

Yet no one hired me

A label tied to the back of the black’s jean pocket,

Explaining the high-cut tapering

and design reliability,

A price taping together packings’ lips

Cost rises, gradings’ higher,

This attracts the buyer,  

A tag wound around wrists of watch stands,

Ensuring a safety approved lab report,  

A book synopsis about some young adolescents,

Telling their story in one simple sentence.


Predictability is a key element in marketing strategy,

People invest in security,

Fear is found in the unknown,

In all the details not shown,

But mine was in the predictability,

How prejudice found root in me.


Racism is only dangerous when directed at the opposition,

But when discrimination is within the team,

It’s evaluation and not blaspheme.

Expectations were only justified by product performance,

And I couldn’t deliver.


They sent in the engineers, the mechanics,

Team product design,

Trying to make me fit the label description,

But when the others malfunction,

They tell me not to make assumptions.


And I’m trying hard,

So hard,

Not to read the labels,

And disregard the stereotypes assigned,


But if you buy a product,

And it breaks the first,

The second,

And the third time,

Till my wallet runs dry and nothing’s left to spend,

Would you not blame the brand?


But we are not products,

We are not part of a consumerist society that needs to be purchased,

We are not marketable pieces,

We are not your profit.


I’m versatile and so are you,

We are as changing as the wind and rains,

Though we can forecast some days,

Unforeseen changes it will bring,


And we will rain down,

Rain on the couple who wanted a date out,

We will ruin wedding photoshoots,

Screw over brightness settings,

And we will melt,

Melt the boundaries that predicted spring as too late.


We are united and apart

We are similar, not synonymous,

We are walking contradictions,

And we will clash like waves against the battered rejects of instruments in the riverbank,

Creating sounds that don’t belong in an orchestra,

But creating an alarm warning for  perfectionism

And artistic destruction.


Sight is a blessing,

For predictability it gives,

But vision is an earned gift,

For possibility is not what you see,

Choices, define what we want to be.


And yes,

We need to know before we commit,

But sometimes,

We need to trust just a little bit.


-Yuki Hansa.

The Potato and Tomato: A Love Story

She had really good roots,
And I stemmed from weak vines,
I always gravitated towards her,
The only thing I pined.

She never thought she was very appealing,
But I assure you,
When I see her,

I turn red every time.

We couldn’t be together,
Not part of the same vines,
Never intertwined,
Not even part of the same group,
She a vegetable,

I a fruit.

I was told I should leaf her,
Maybe branch out a bit more.
But she was the only thing that kept me grounded,
The starch of my life,
My spuddy,
Through the pain and strife.

Even though we grew apart,
As harvest came to chart;
I knew in my heart,
That fate would come around,
And we would stick together if found.

So when it was time to say goodbye,
I would have never predicted why,
We would meet again in McD,
As ketchup and fries.

And spuddy,
I’ll love you till the day I die.


-Yuki Hansa