There is a kind of loneliness that feels unique to Singapore.

You look at the guy sitting across you on the MRT. He’s scrolling on his phone, probably on TikTok. You wonder if he gets through life without thinking about life itself. Or if he’s like you – someone who constantly obsesses over why the hell you’re here.

The train comes to a halt. People rush in, like flies fluttering around a flame. No one looks at each other. Its like clockwork. And it drives you mad. There must be more to this than trying to survive a 20 minute train ride every. single. damn. day.

You have an overwhelming urge to scream across the divide and ask that guy – the one compulsively scrolling – if he thinks about life. You’re pretty sure he does. I mean, who doesn’t?

But in the off chance that you’re the crazy one, you bite your tongue.

You pull out your phone and decide to talk to your best friend instead.

“Chat, is it just me or is Singapore just so…cold?”