The other day, I created a cup cake.
A literal abomination pretending to be rising layers of edible foam, cooked in a microwave for a minute or two. I was so desperate for something sweet because I was feeling a little lonely and thought, well, everything could be fixed by cake.
But in the Philippines and Singapore where commercialism is peppered everywhere, you can get virtually anything within a 5-minute walk. Granted, sometimes an unsafe walk (mostly in the Philippines) because I get really bad cravings at around 11 pm or 1 am, but it’s there: a 24-hour convenience store. You get your occasional ice cream or a small butter cake that’s packed in tiny plastic packages with suspicious expiry dates (because damn, why are their edibles set to expire in a year?? Is that cake or styrofoam?), or sometimes a quick msg hit in the form of 3-minute instant noodles.
Ministop, a small local franchise that went against the monopoly of 7-11 in the Philippines, upped the game by offering massive fried chicken pieces sold at a relatively cheap price. For you to understand how important that was, most of us were broke university students who eventually became broke young professionals, so being able to eat a decent fried chicken that was chock-full of breading and tasty meat (I never once came up with a theory on why their chicken was so cheap; beggars can’t be choosers after all) that wasn’t dry (I think they actually brined them, thank god) and didn’t break bank was just a godsend. Jollibee’s chicken eventually became smaller and dry through the years; Ministop tried to maintain but I guess it wasn’t enough after a few decades because the last time I flew back to the Philippines they were now labelled something else and I was told they got sold.
The number of times I went out at night to just quench a chicken or cake craving was enough to drive a mother crazy, but they already knew it was useless to stop me. The game leveled up in Singapore, where 7-11 offered butter chicken biryani in a packed plastic, easy to heat in a microwave and available to consume anytime. I was floored, because wow can you imagine an honest-to-goodness MEAL being available immediately, but at least I had another option. The number of times I was told it was also not a nutritious meal was offensive, but it nourished me in ways you won’t believe.
Well…let’s just say I missed it. New Zealand never really cared much for 24-hour stores (they have it in some areas within the CBD but it wasn’t as good and we live 20 minutes away) because they’re so expensive to maintain + everyone cooks anyway. Biryani game here is mid. I also don’t stock up on cakes because I always tell myself I’ll go on a diet and sometimes it works until I get another craving and jinx it.
It didn’t stop there. The other day I was on reddit looking at the pen pal section – just looking at anyone who seemed nice, someone I could maybe connect. The number of times I told myself, maybe I’ll write, and then later on just think, nah, I don’t have the time–it became an exercise on useless musings.
I don’t think anyone really talks about how lonely it can get being an adult. The craving for longer talks, for someone to understand–they were in people I’ve left somewhere across the globe, and suddenly we’re all in different phases and different journeys and, well, different locations. Making friends feels a bit more perfunctory when trying to find common interests, and while I have them (and continue to make them), there’s a part within that continues to dwell on what’s missing.
I recently met someone in person who I shared a relatively tense relationship online–we’re hardly friends, but I suppose it now counts as one. She asked me once, do you ever get lonely? Even with a partner?
I said yeah. And maybe because there are bits and pieces of me everywhere, in places and people I’ve made my comfort. And right now they’re far from me and they’re not replaceable, but that’s life and it sucks but as an adult, you just deal with that loneliness.
Sometimes it comes in the form of a badly microwaved cake, but, well. it would have to do.
(p.s.: on another note, I’ve started to cling to the comfort of spammers sending me random stuff in my email. I have absolutely no idea why they keep sending stuff and there’s absolutely nothing else in their emails except for a one-liner message, but hey, at least somewhere out there a bot [or a hacker/scammer] is thinking of me)
(p.p.s: I wish I were kidding)
