Byline

I am Mei. I live on Sembawang Crescent in a flat where the morning light hits the kitchen table before it reaches the corridor. I have been in this neighbourhood long enough to treat the park connector towards Admiralty as an extension of the living room — a place to walk off a thought when the paragraph will not settle.

I write in first person because these notes are mine. They are not a publication, not a course, not a coaching programme, and not a product demo for anything called "haven" or "pro". I work a regular weekday job and come home to notebooks that fill slowly. Some entries become pages here; most stay in the drawer. What you read is the small fraction I am willing to hang on a line and let dry.

My subjects are ordinary on purpose: kopi at the stall near Sembawang MRT, laundry on the poles, a plastic bag caught on the railing, the MRT doors closing before you reach them. I like the texture of HDB life — the sound of someone else's television through the wall, the uncle who remembers your order, the neighbour's cat supervising the lift landing. Singapore appears in the details, not in listicles.

What I do not write about is equally important. I do not report news. I do not review restaurants for traffic. I do not give medical, legal or financial advice dressed up as memoir. When a note touches a serious nearby event, I stay inside my own sightline and say plainly when I do not know more. I do not speculate about people I did not meet.

I built Note Haven as a quiet reading place with inset photographs and mono datelines because that matches how I read — slowly, with room in the margins. If something here is inaccurate, email me. I will correct factual mistakes about my own experiences. Everything else is impression, and impression is allowed to be personal.