Marsha Maung: I write. I love. I live

Slowly moving on is quite a feat. 
I think I am suffering from a late onset of separation anxiety. I miss home-cooked food. I miss calling out my kids' names and screaming them out on the third try only to hear their exasperated replies a little later. I miss picking up a book out of nowhere and reading it to get my mind off work. I miss the small 20-minute breaks. I miss meditating in my room. I miss working around in the small little kitchen I now call home. I miss hugging my boys whenever I want. 
Also, I have to get used to blogging and writing from my phone for now. In time, I'll explain what is going on in my life but for now, let's just say things are changing and I am trying my utmost best to get used to it. 
But I am trying and that's all the Universe can ask from me, right?
For lack of a proper update, here's something I would like to share with anyone who even reads anything I write. #lol

Sending lots of love your way, Marsha

Sometimes I feel like shit. Sometimes I say "I'm sorry for being your mom" for no apparent reason other than a wave of guilt just swept over me when a disdainful memory hit me in the chest and I feel like crying over a touching Petronas commercial or a Kdrama.

Being mom is a tough job and I don't think I did enough to let my parents know I NOW know what it feels like.

Being a single mom also means that I am fairly attached to my kids and they'll forever be my babies. I know it's unhealthy attachment but spare me that for now.

I want them under my wing all the time and yet, when they encounter a seemingly insurmountable problem, I want them to get the hell out from under my angel wings and let me fly.

And then...cue...wave of guilt and an out-of-the-blue apology.

I see the mess in the kitchen, the pile of cups, the crumbs on the floor, the never-to-be-worn-again clothing in a corner of the room, the boxes I never unpacked, the stained sofa, the broken doorknob…

September 22, 2019 would have been Yoa Shoak Ann's birthday but she's no longer here to celebrate the day with us...but this doesn't mean we can't celebrate it for her.

I ate an extra cheesecake and Inside Scoop ice-cream on her behalf.

I told myself that I will post one picture of her for her every birthday so, here's one taken one million years ago. That's how long it feels like.


Everyday, she serves me a reminder that life is too short. You don't know what is rushing toward you at lightning speed...whether you like it or not, good or bad. Her departure reminds me every single day not to expect anything because no crystal ball can tell you what the future holds. 
And I continue to believe that everything happens for a reason and sometimes, for no abso-effing-lutely reason. There are things you can fight and there are things you can't. 
For whatever it's worth, you've changed my life. 
Thanks for the everyday reminder. I will continue to eat e…

It has happened before - me trying to get past the first chapter of a similar book, shudder my way through each and every sentence, dropping the book, picking it up and soldiering on (because I paid for the damn book), but then dropping it for real, promising to give it away to the next person who is into such somber depressing genres.

Well, Room the book was such a book.


The setting is the kind of horrifying kidnapping, sex-slave situation that we all dread to hear about in the news. Young girl on her way home/work/friend's place/school who is kidnapped and kept enslaved for years on end.

The good thing about Room the book was that it was written in Jack's, the little boy of 5, voice. Emma Donoghue managed to keep readers away (we can assume the usual horrifying things that happens in such situations) from what happens when he's not privy to it. The rape, beatings, capture, depression, sense of hopelessness, and the dying of the soul as Joy spends seven years in captivity…

I can't say life's been smashing because there have been upheavals here and there, just like everyone else's lives, but I would say one thing – we, my kids and I, are finally facing an inevitable crossroad. Funnily enough, all of us are facing crossroads all at the same time.

They don't come one at a time, do they?

Whether it's a job, finishing school, or entering college, we're all facing some really important decision-making in our lives. Although I've never complained much about being the only parent to have to make these decisions, it gets tough.

I can't carry my kids on my back forever and they're slowly growing their own wings so, sooner or later, I would have to let them go on their own journeys. It sucks. But life is full of uncertainties and every step you take, whether it's impulsive or calculated, would have to be measured later on in hindsight.

That's the way life is.

But here's a roundup of stuff that.
Outside of my 3km radi…