My take on December. (at least, the days I've had of it..)

Hello there.

 Remember those face morphs I used to devote my life to , since I was 14? I have it compiled here; http://ameliamariegasper.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-look-alikes.html They have an internet term for it now, (okay not NOW, been sometime) and it's called 'facemath'. It's all over the internet, hence making my originals much less special to look at that I just gave up.

 F.Y.I --I swear I did not steal their idea, It was just something I've always done then suddenly everyone got the same idea months later.. Too bad I removed all my dated older posts so there is no such thing as proof.

Christmas is soon approaching, and the hype is prevalent in everyone , christian or not. Just enter a mall...

"LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOWW!!"

If you dont know that one you haven't been to much malls recently or you've been to one that only knows how to play 'Jingle Bells' and other boring loops. The decorations, music and atmosphere is enough to move someone taking it really seriously.

Not surprisingly, the same cannot be said for me. The Christmas magic vanished roughly 4 to 5 years ago for me. I used to feel like the only one in my household who takes it so seriously and joyfully. Then everyone's negative energy rubbed onto me and it has stuck ever since.

Last time I could write about so much for pretty much nothing eventful going on. (Ah, how I love reading my early teen journals. They are something I would take with me till I'm old and withered.) Now there are so many eventful personality/character building things taking place and I have none of those documented.

It seems like I remember to come back to this blog and feel like there's much to write about when I am sad about something. So the posts would look emo. That is an incorrect reflection of who I am. 

Thursday, 5.12.13 was the first day of 'Law of Tort', since AS levels exams ended. Came in with the spirit to learn, especially since getting the new book today--buuuut the energy died out an hour and a half later. One can only have that much focus when sitting close to the last row of a class of 400++ people.

Other brief updates:

Got addicted to virtual scrabble, then got over it only to enter the clasp of the Candy Crush demon which managed to escape me for all these years. Always thought it was a stupid game.

 

Got my nose pierced on Sunday (1.12.13). Does not hurt like I expected it to. Makes me look more matang, kot. 

 

I fully healed from a series of purging and vomitting which has been happening for the past 3 days, today. I dont think I have felt that sick in those past three days for this year.

I have been crying so much more. I know that it's healthy for the body. It is not weakness.

My cousin is getting engaged in JB this Saturday. First engagement in the family, so it's a pretty big deal. I love when the whole family gets together.

Got new clothes from the sister who kinda owes me a lot of money .

I really want to start reading again. Have not read most of the books I bought even from last year. (not including those got this year)

I guess that's about it. Till next time !

(Extended periods of) lone time.

T-t-tthis  bbb-bl-o..oogg?!
 IT'S ALIIIIVE!

*Evil laugh*


It's been months since I have let alone visited this site, what more posted in it.






I used to check-in here to write with an abundance of energy and thoughts , the way it would be if a tap isn't turned off even after a cup is filled to the brim. And what was in this blog, was just the excess. The little that overflows.

Hey Amelia how are you what's happening with your life are you okay are you pregnant you're still alive?

My life? It's like the lines from the Lily Allen song 'Why';

" Why is my phone full of so many numbers,
And why doesn't anyone call.
Maybe they think that I'm always too busy,
Or maybe I've no friends at all."

If what you derived from that is that I am sad and lonely then I need to rethink the way I represent my thoughts. Basically, I am happy with my life. The happiest I've been. But I have lost contact with a number of people from my past which troubles me. I feel like they are making attempts to reach out for me. To have me in their life. But I am the one always subconciously pushing them away.

*maybe that's why I dream of teeth/teeth falling a lot*

It's not even the typical , 'too-afraid-of-getting-hurt' or 'dealing-with-not-being-important-to-people-who-are-important-to-me' story.

I cannot blame it on stress, because I am not exactly stressed. I don't know what it is either. It's like the stereotypical teens you see in these American movies. A parent's worst nightmare,-- their daughter evolving into some anti-social rebel hipster who thinks everything is overrated, including life itself. No explanation provided. Except I don't think I am too cool for life. And I'm not a hipster. I just, I dont feel like communicating and socializing as much anymore.

Again, I feel like I am misrepresenting myself.

I dont hate the world. More often than not, it's the tiredness from my 6am-7pm day.

I guess everyone needs their lone-time sometimes. There are times I wish I could just be on facebook but be invisible to people so that they wont get offended by thinking I am avoiding them if I do not respond to their very friendly, nice attempts at connecting with me again through fb chat.  (I am looking at you, Becky--I wonder how you bear with me sometimes.) I know that it's possible to just 'appear offline' on chat but I want to constantly see who's online at the same time. So how? Masalah dunia pertama. (that's first world problems, heheh.)

I guess it's the fact that these people were once up to date with every little life progress I have made , and the period of lost contact makes it difficult to bring up things from these past few months without feeling like I'm being self absorbed. (Because when I talk about myself I tend to expect undivided attention, and a discussion on me to be listened to, not merely heard.)

Last time feeling like I was self absorbed was acceptable. Now it isn't. Because everyone's got their own story too , waiting to be listened to.

To summarize, it's like if you don't know about everything that is happening in my life now you're as close to not being my friend. And if I do tell you about the details of what's going on, and you're going to be judgemental about it and reconsider being friends with me , I cannot tahan. ;(

I've come to the root of the problem. It isnt fear of hurt or not being important, it is fear of rejection + judgement.

Grade-itude.

Of all the little miracles God placed in my life, the most major one thus far would be my unbelievable SPM results. I can't think of a more accurate word to use. Some nights I still lie awake trying to believe that I pulled it off. I pulled of a nine. They aren't solid 9A+ s , but they still make me eligible for scholarships.

Which, if I didn't have, I could just, say bye to any chances of furthering my education in a place and course of my choice. I would be in misery.

There would always be that painful silence. The household would be such a tensed atmosphere, any slight thing could set off an argument. Money would be such a sensitive issue, that you would wish such a word would seem like it didn't exist. Or you would rather have to drop dead than bring it up.

Maybe that's why God did it. Because he knew, this was it. It was either straight As or straight As. Nothing else. I was talking to a few people about this, and since the competition for scholarships is getting higher , they even set aside people who got EIGHT As. Nine is the *goes without saying* bare minimum to be eligible, despite what the public chooses to say about it! 

I am so thankful for the choices I have made throughout the last two years too. Maybe God planted these ideas in my head. All those extra curricular activities and school representing I did that people perceived as a 'waste of time'. (IN YO FACE) Now it proves to be of a BIG help in setting me apart from other applicants.

I am so thankful for my mom being my mom because she was the only person who went forth and was serious about enrolling me in something. If it wasn't for her I would probably only start college next year and be in a class with people a year younger than me or something. She showed genuine happiness over my success and rewarded me for it in her ways. Also, she was the one who forced me into tuition (and lets face it, tuition is the only form of serious studying I would have gotten) and paying its high fee monthly.


I am thankful for having a sister that believed in me and pep talked me especially during the panic attack phases towards trials. I don't know why either but before her talk, the concept of just leaving things blank if I didn't know answers instead of big-time freaking out about it didnt exist. But knowing that by just doing that being sufficient to make my mom satisfied was a big relief.

I am so grateful for the teachers that taught me (or rather , tolerated me) and wasn't too hard on me when I didn't finish my homework, and were kind when marking my papers when I needed that one extra mark to determine my change of grade. If there is one thing I miss about school it would be the teachers. Some have grown to become like close friends. I appreciate their efforts at passing their knowledge down and making the lessons interesting (through various group activities) and fun ! *I'm looking at you, english teacher. *

I am thankful for Calvin, who was like, one the only human being on earth who actually thought/firmly believed (contrary to my sister who was just probably obliged to say nice things to make me feel less anxiety, lols) that I could pull off a nine. When I got it, his words was one of the earliest thoughts to come to mind. I cannot describe to you how good it feels to have a friend believe in you when you don't even believe in yourself.

AND AMELIA. Okay Amelia deserves her own section. She was my .. *maybe a word for what I want isn't coming to my mind yet* but I would just, crumble in school without her existence. She was the person who could make me laugh without needing to say anything. The yin to my yang, The few people I permit to insult me/make fun of me/ tell me if I am going to far without any feelings of wanting to injure anyone. The impact she has on my life, (and this I only realized recently) is tremendous.

It is true, the friends you make have a great impact on how you perform. And in my case, because of her I wasn't TOO slack-y. The necessary amount of discipline in my life. The correct term for it would be 'best friend'. Yes, that is what she is.

I am grateful for my classmates who inadvertently forced me to push my limits instead of just lying on comfort zone. Cause, by being in 5B, It makes me want to do all I can to not sink below the 25th position in class. And to do that, I would need to put in the necessary effort to ensure that. Special thanks to Amelia for making my studying experiences fun, and some part of me believes this would not be possible without her.

Then we have Becky who was a full time counselor and picked me up when I was at a low point in my life, late last year. She was my necessary dose of humor. The witty + sarcastic kind. I have other people for the 'slapstick' kind.  I can't insert a pic of her and me here because the last recorded one I have of us, I look like a confused boy . I await the day we update it, just sayin'.





Truly, I feel blessed. So thank you, all of you. Really. (:

Bend over backwards.

Morph Kina Grannis and Jasmine Villegas (a.k.a the girl from 'Baby')

You get Cierra Ramirez

 

She starred in this:

 

I will admit, this was a pretty good investment of my time. It is available on youtube; and the girl (who is my age) has got some serious swag. I adore her sense of fashion.

--this was drafted early March.

*****

Hello peoples !

I have been through a whirlwind of emotions. And suddenly, I didn't need to blog about it anymore. Containing them in my mind was more self-sufficient.

Pao's loss, day 11.

I have , you can say... come to terms with Pao's loss? (Now I know for sure she isnt going to appear on my doorstep again eventually.)

Her kittens are dying one by one. Watching them get weaker and weaker until they can barely produce a sound is getting less painful than I thought it would be. Morbid thoughts flood my mind. Optimistic me would tell me to snip them off before it develops into a major psychological problem.

Anyway, what I did was, give them a bath! If they were going to die I want them to be clean while at it. Do not question the rationale to that. I get really angry when people have anything negative to say about Pao "abandoning" her kittens and making circumstances be such. Because she didn't just abandon them. She was mercilessly thieved away.

Anyway, enough with the moping.

Ironically, what made me want to blog was listening to jumpy bubbly songs. If I were still sad I wouldn't be able to phrase proper english sentences about what I feel.

Think ;

Sara Bareilles - Gonna Get Over You

Marina & The Diamonds- Primadona Love
..whatever you get when you youtube 'Demi Lovato playlist'

My life has made a dramatic leap of progress if we compare it with the last 5/6 months.. I start college in more or less 10 days. I'm doing A levels. The last thing I saw myself doing. This is taking some time for my brain to process.

I think my mom is the most bending-over-backwards person I know of, in this planet.

In one day she buys me a watch, a subway sandwich, a new pair of spectacles, on top of that gives me cash for future use, offers to get me a handbag, bears with the excessive excessive excessive amount of walking we did around KL trying to locate the college I was supposed to visit, doesn't complain even once after we took the wrong train roughly four or five times, goes to inquire about another college for the course I was supposed to take, etc etc. She cancelled all the plans she was supposed to attend to for the day to morally support me and even attended the free trial class I was supposed to attend because I was a bit scared to be alone in such a foreign environment.

Oh, oh, all of that while having a really injured knee.

She will not know how much I appreciate and need her in my life. Because we're not one for "I love you" s.

It gives me a lot to compare with if you look at how much my dad is involved with my life. Yes, it brings me down sometimes, but I had like, the last five years or so to get used to it.

So why does it still bring me down? things to ponder..

Coping with Pao's loss-day 5.

I finally understand why some people do drugs.

I used to think it was so stupid. A typical making a statement act. Fitting in.  Peer pressure. Completely avoidable addiction. "Oh, I'm sad, so I am going to shower my self with strong nerve damaging drugs."

As far as my shallowness on the subject went, nothing was ever too sad that enough time and moral support couldn't heal.

But that was until I lost something I loved so, so, much.
I am in a state that I will take ANYTHING. Any alternative to keep me from being sane and being able to process my horrible reality of having the one thing I care about at home be stolen from me.

You know how you love something when you first get it and over time (years) your love isn't as strong? That is how it was NOT with Pao. Every single day I wake up and it's like the first time I'm seeing her. Every half an hour no matter what I am doing I just need to look at her just to make sure she is still alive and present and smile. That's how it was for the last six months.

Now I lie awake for hours when I am trying to sleep, playing back meaningless memories, such as her quietly lying on the computer table.  The flashes of memory I have, don't even have anything to do with me. They could be as random as Pao eating her bag of (still left the way it was) 'Whiskers'. Pao biting a leaf. Pao sleeping. Pao's eye twitching. Pao's tail.

I could be watching a video with headphones on, but suddenly hear her as if she were right behind me and freeze. (Happened 10 times this day alone) Everything I look at has a memory of her tethered to it. Every time I wake up I keep thinking maybe if I walked downstairs a Pao will be there to surprise me, she just took a long walk. I am sleeping on a bed without a bed sheet because if I put it back on it will always remind me that Pao slept ON that bed sheet. It will stare me in the face everyday.






I keep hearing her meow when she isn't there. When I eventually get to sleep she makes an appearance in my dreams. I just had a dream this evening, that she came back. She changed, almost like a different cat-- but she was back in my arms. It scared me. Would I be able to accept a different Pao if she returned?
 
I watch the other stray cats behind my house running about in their normal untainted lives and talk to them asking if they've seen my Pao, as if they would magically answer me back or even understand what I'm saying.

*****

You don't understand.
I don't love anything deeply enough to want to make sacrifices for and proclaim it to the world.

(Pao, jussssssst after giving birth. Last pic I took of her.)

*****

Now these are things I would seriously do. I don't believe in catching grenades or other melodramatic shit like that because what is the point of getting Pao back if I am not alive to see it happen eventually? I repeat. This is not me being dramatic, these are things I would actually do.

I would trade in not ever knowing my SPM results if that meant I could get Pao back the way she was when I last saw her.

I would trade in not going to college this year and watching other people progress with their lives.

I would trade in my sense of taste for seaweed (which sucks because sushi has seaweed)

I would trade in not having my leg scars heal ever which would mean I could never wear another dress and feel pretty.

I would trade not consuming anything for a week excluding water.

I would trade in not meeting anyone from secondary school ever again excluding Becky and the usual 8.

I would gladly have dengue and be admitted in a hospital for Pao.

I would be willing to not have a hand phone until I am 25.

I would go off facebook for half a month.

I would.. *gulp* have her kittens die, only if that meant she would be back.

I would give up ever have a twitter account.

I would give up Milo for half a year.

I would trade not being able to visit outside Asia ever.

*****

Paolina. 

:'(

:'(

:'(

Eisley

Normal people listening to Eisley:

*taps feet*
*shakes head to beat*
*lip syncs*


Me listening to Eisley:

"YES LADY, MOAN TO ME !! AWWNGH YEAH !"
*remembers dad is in the hall*

*silent for few mins*
*plays same song again*
*dances while sitting on chair* (it's possible)

*wide grinned + extra dramatic lip sync *
*imagines what it would feel like to stand between Sherri and Stacy*
*plays that same song again*

*plays a live version of that song*

*examines their facial expressions and tries to understand how they sing it*
*Moves to next youtube video of songs they sing*

*repeat cycle*

*If smiles could kill...


Fun fact: I just listened to 'Better Love' 10 times while typing this.  

I am especially hooked on to the lyrics; "How can I unwind you; when I can't unwind myself?" from 'Better Love.' The tune is so much like a fragment of that 'Hedwigs Theme', if we rocked it up.

And I take great pleasure in moan-singing out the line; "If you're my guide, I'm your guide."
It literally sounds like;

"If mmyore ma'guide ngghiym'uh yore gyyydd!'

Letting go.

Life is about PROGRESSING, right?
Letting go of things (eg; the past) that tie you down?

Unfortunately, I am the kind of person who's too absorbed with the past for my own good. Memories are more important to me than life itself.

 I live everyday thinking of how good that other day was. How much I can make this day like that day. Constantly re-visiting the good times of yore, and fretting the outcomes of decisions I've made in the past-- oblivious to the fact that the present is a gift, given to me to progress from all of that.

For ages, I kept it engraved within the depths of my conscience, that 2009 was the best year of my life. I meditated on all the events that made it such.

"2009 was great. 2009 was growth. 2009 was love. Nothing can ever beat 2009."

I'd just succumb to the idea, even up until last week, maybe..


But now,
I am starting to question the idea. Because, over time, I am losing track of the events that justify it. Like, I just have the main concept intact but I don't even know WHY it is such anymore. What was so great about 09', anyway ? 2012 was pretty great for my life, why is it any less important than 2009? Why can't I start making 2013 my 'best' year ?

When I am living in a particular year, I hate it-- but after it has passed, the following year I realise how many great things from the previous year I can never get back and how the current one is a big deterioration.

It is a relevant cliche, 'you don't know what you got till it's gone'.


*****
What I want to change about this year, (much like what I wanted to change about any other year in the past four years) is to actually LIVE. Not through photographs, or mediocre events which I try to make much of a bigger deal than it actually is.. Really be involved in conversations, not think about writing the event in my journal while it's happening.

I want to teach myself that it is okay if I let a few things slip away from my memory. Caging my memories wont enable me to actually time travel and re-live them. I need to let go. It is going to be mad difficult, but I want to try.

To do that, I need to start creating new memories that make the old ones seem insignificant in comparison.  March is going to be an overture, I hope. 

Eisley Love.

Profound, crazy, dangerous, immense love for Eisley, maynnn. ;D

If someone was around me while I was listening to Eisley, they would think I am possessed.

People could talk to me but I would not digest what they are saying.

Listening to Eisley is a temporary numbness from any other emotion which isn't euphoric. Which is why it is the perfect cure to my fear of being alone while waiting for a public transport or being alone in a crowded place where I don't know anyone. I will be facing a lot of that in the near future, so...

I cannot make anyone understand just how much of a fan I am of their work, and WHY , but I'll try.. 

One thing that sets them apart would be that they make really beautiful melodies in all their songs. (One song , 'Memories' sound like three different nice songs put together.) These melodies do not sound like a modern or remixed version of an oldie, it's fresh music . Not overrated migraine-inducing, loud dubstep filth that repeats the same paragraph throughout the song before breaking into something that sounds like an army of mosquitoes are having a party in your ear.

Back to Eisley..A lot of times, rather than sing words, they sort of.. chant (?) and it's like their trademark. (Take the beginning of  'Marvelous Things' for example, it was the first Eisley song I grew to love. Most, most, most IMPORTANTLY, they aren't famous over here and don't play on the radio , so my connection to this band is more personal. It would break my heart into a million tiny pieces if everyone suddenly had Eisley on their ipod and car radios.

What else, the lyrics to some songs can be very vague, which opens room for interpretation, which I like. Their voices sound like angels. When Stacy and Sherri harmonize, I die. :)

Like in this one.

0:33   = "I, don't believe in magic"

0:36 - 0:54  = Sorcery!!




They are also so pretty, all of them, which makes it more astounding. Maybe it is biasness kicking in..

Point of this post is to tell you that if I die before my time , the organizers of my funeral will have to pick an Eisley song. Think, 'Memories', 'Lost at sea', 'Ambulance' , (albeit ironic), yes..

If I get married, I would love 'Golly Sandra' at some part of the entire function. You guessed right, it's an Eisley song.

If I have a birthday party, any Eisley song would do .

If I am going to exercise, Eisley.

Just. Associate me with Eisley okay? 

Play the damn Eisley. :)

The social strategy.

I have been spending my recent days clicking on cute guys' facebook profiles.

Plot twist: None of them know I exist.

It's like, I click on one person, to discover that this person is in a photo with another attractive person, so I open that ones' profile, only to see that that person is in a photo with ANOTHER medium tanned, extremely cute geek-like persona who looks like he can be blown by a strong wind, (think indian Michael Cera; I have a soft spot for that) so yeah-- it goes like that..

They are not COMPLETELY random, I mean, they are friends of my existing friends, you see?

Anyway, in that process, I found someone who is a mixture of all the crushes I have ever had, with a new additional personal trait--catholic bigot. This person took pride in uploading a dozen pictures of his relatives' graves, and winning 1st in bible knowledge quizzes.. I have fairly decent bible knowledge for someone who barely reads the bible, and I am not an atheist, but seeing him parade it like that made me think that if we met, I was going to be in some pressure to be someone I am not , hence having a painfully awkward friendship...

Sigh, He would have been perfect crush material , otherwise...

*snaps out of imagination bubble*
 
I told my sister about all the hot people (the people I find attractive is really, an acquired taste) who I'm not already meeting and how I sucked myself into a chain of attractive people's profiles.. She just said; "Birds of a feather flock together."

It's like all the hot people of an area have this special league of their own and make pacts to be friends, deliberately. Social strategy, perhaps?

Eitherway, it is my dream to one day be accustomed with these people. While on this issue, let me clarify something, I don't have 'dating' plastered ANYWHERE in my mind at all at the moment, I mean, ew-- I just like looking at people I find hot and having crushes that fade after a week or so.

You don't belong to me anymore.

You don't belong to me anymore.

Not in the sense that I don't own you anymore.

But rather; you don't correspond with me anymore.

And that's normal, right? People know, it happens, they don't think of it happening to them. (until it does). Perhaps because some people haven't come to terms with how embarrassingly much their reality would seem like something adapted from the first half a corny chick flick.

When it does happen eventually, however, it becomes scary to re-live the whole cycle; of meeting someone, have them be a huge part of your life, and have them feel distant and eventually leave.

 You don't belong to me anymore.

What makes it worst is when the cause of them leaving is self-inflicted. Then, for some reason, the most 'rational' thing to do about it is to build walls and not let yourself be attached to anyone ever again. Only problem with that is , it is creating more reasons for you to be unhappy with life, and you're probably pushing away the slight chances of existing happiness that might be trying to reach you. You become the cause of your sadness.

I personally think one of the worst things you could do to yourself is let someone have the privilege of breaking you. (Though coming from me, it's mildly hypocritical , lol!)

What I mean, is like, if someone says something without putting too much thought on filtering it to suit you, and it offends you,

You can CHOOSE to be affected by it, or brush it off. Of course, choosing to be offended by it will strain your relationship with that person and only make you upset while the other person is completely unaware and goes away unharmed in their happy, productive life. Point being, how much you want to sustain the relationship and make your life happy is your call.

So, reality check -- If you cannot take a joke about yourself and take offense in much more things than an average person does , you might as well be damned.

You don't belong to me anymore. 

So what ? Mope about it for a while. But it's important to be honest with yourself, meet new people and move on with your life ! 

*** 

Because sometimes I think only I can tell myself what I want to hear.

Me and writing.

Just a thought.

Sometimes these words are used ever so often, even during times it isn't necessarily used--that it depreciates the value of it.

  Awesome.  

Love.      Miss.     Stupid.     Depressed.     Confused.     Amazing.  Surely there are better words to convey feelings towards things? The thesaurus is one of my favourite online sites. There is something delighting about finding three other words that mean the similar thing. It invites muse for writing, and learning a new word that describes exactly what I want to say is intriguing. Writing does to me what smoking must do to someone who is addicted to smoking. Sometimes when I'm unsure about who can feel genuinely happy or sad about something that's happening in my life, writing helps. I write things in the heat of the moment. Sometimes it could be a great one-liner for a song, sometimes it goes as far as a page of unhappiness, a paragraph of bliss ,... some of which I can view years after I've written it and feel like tearing out pages. I don't know why I still do it though, like, maybe if I died a sudden death I will go knowing I've got it all out of my chest and didn't hurt anyone as much in the process.

Pre-college preperations.

I NEVER used to care about style/fashion; like, I was the kind of person who would pick the first tee I find in my closet and pair it with the only pair of denim jeans (an oversized one, while at it) I own. Back then I had hair I didn't have to care to maintain. I could comb my hair with my fingers !

 It alternated between disorderly curly + ruffled hair and unusually straight (ironed the day before) teenage boy hair. I thought my Bieber-fringe (before there was a 'Bieber'!) was the coolest thing I did for myself, ever.

If it was worth anything, my hair could've been my trademark. Because until up to when I was 16-ish, my hair's length never exceeded just where my neck ends and my shoulder begins, (and not many girls go for that kind of hair for fairly obvious reasons.)






When I (more like my parents) finally DID let it grow, it transitioned into this.

------------------ >

I believe it was a turning point. When physical appearance and what not started to actually make sense and matter in my life.

Now I have a preference for clothes. I actually care to look at what other people wear and *mentally* credit their efforts to look the way they do. I take time to value details and colour on clothing. I fancy good hair. The meaning of "shopping" has been renewed.

******

On the materialistic wishlist at this point: 

--yes, I plan to buy all of these with my own hard-earned money.


1. Brightly coloured skinny jeans.

2. Maroon/Black Cherry lipstick.

3. Dresses with unique motives (eg; tribal, psychedelic, paisley..)

4.  Plain coloured V necks.

5. Halter dresses.

6. High top sneakers.

7. Slip-ons.

8. Ankle boots.

9. A Nokia C2-03 ?

10. A cool minimalist black watch.


11. Plaid shirts.





 I have a few months to get in shape and work to actually fund all these things. Then I'm going to walk into college like a BOSS.

BOSS I tell you!! (:

Of cool shoes, tattoos, music and books.

My mom enjoys making me throw out old things (and on rare occasions, replaces the things she throws!)

When she does replace, I'm sometimes put in a situation where I'd think about how I would rather punch myself in the eye before telling her I don't like what she's got for me.

It's not that my mother has got horrible taste or anything, and if you think about it, it's really nice to be bought something in the first place; It's just that my taste for things are very ...reserved? Or it could be because she forgets that I'm eighteen. (I'm at fault here, I am 10 at heart!)

Anyway, last December , my mom was in a

 'clean-the-house-throw-out everything-mess-mess-everywhere-omg-do-something-productive-around-here!!' trance.

The victim? my shoes!  I had just finished school with the same pair of shoes I had worn for years; among some other shoes. Being someone who gets emotionally attached to everything, of course I wasn't ready to throw anything away!

I decided to deal with it the same way I deal with something I don't want to have to do around the house. NOT DO IT !  --and wait for her attention to divert to something else . My plan was successful.

*a week later...*

We went shopping one day, and passed this shoe shop. It triggered a memory that was supposed to be forgotten ! My mom was going to make me buy new shoes. (I had money of my own) As expected, we could not agree on the shoe to buy because her options were all like jogging shoes and what I had in mind was a pair of hipster sneakers.

We managed to find one that was a mixture of both, but I felt it was way too much for something to pay for a pair of shoes. So we looked around elsewhere, until I found...

*dramatic music please*

the one thing both me and my mom agreed on. This cool pair of black vans-like shuz.
The best part was that my mom paid for it ! :) These are things I just won't forget. The patience she had with me to go browsing from one shop to another because of my inability to make decisions fast. How she did not trash talk my choice even though she would love to have picked something else for me.

I told you we have a love hate relationship! And after that, I just felt so happy. However, I still didn't throw out my old shoes. In fact I have the box to these newly bought ones stored somewhere. (Gosh, I'm such a hoarder.)

Meanwhile, in my life ..

Scribbling on my legs cause that's what freedom is ! not being bound to school rules!
This was me trying to get creative. Done with a black pen. Beneath this symbolic 'tattoo' you'd find ugly leg-tainting scars. Thought it was pretty genius when I first did it.

This is me attempting to complete a song I had written from ages ago.

When the muse comes I can come up with three well written ones! but then there's about two and a half years of nothingness in between. NO inspiration. NO thought interesting enough to make into lyrics. Even in this picture, I could come up with no addition worthy enough to complete it to call it a masterpiece. But that's what all this free time is for ! :)

This is me, reading.

Does not happen often, but I figured, since I went to the mines book fair and bought a wide variety of things, might as well read them ! Currently glued to this book of 21 short stories with plot twists at the end.

*no picture available*

- AND THIS picture was supposed to be of me awkwardly calling up job vacancies. I want to start in February, after fully being bored with freedom.

The fear.

Morph Brad Pitt and Eric Dane?

 Get Nick Zano.

Over the long break from the outside world and being confined in the house (which doesn't mean my life has been miserable because it hasn't) I have had time to properly think about some of the things I am scared of.

* Agoraphobia- Fear of open spaces or of being in crowded, public places like markets. Fear of leaving a safe place.

* Claustrophobia- Fear of confined spaces.

*  Eremophobia- Fear of being oneself or of loneliness

*  Decidophobia- Fear of making decisions.

*  Entomophobia- Fear of insects.

I guess the most crippling one would be the one in bold. It is a recently-developed fear. It's robbing my peace. I cannot go out alone in a bus to anywhere I want. How the hell do I go to college ? How do I get clothes I want without shopping with someone who'd judge my style and make me feel pressured into making choices instantaneously?


 And my fear of decisions. I would rather someone who knows me well make choices for me . But life isn't like that. I have to step up and do my own damn things...


It's very easy to mock and make fun of someone who would rather starve at home than walk out to the shop and get a decent meal ; mistaking it for laziness or being unable to be independent --but nobody knows what it's like to be me. I cannot explain it either.