First Ramadan

Everyone's always looking forward to Ramadan every year. [insert 3 things that people look forward to in the fasting month which I usually don't care about] Me, on the other hand... I feel like the Christmas Grinch, Ramadan version.

I don't know man, I just dread it more and more each year. It's like a time for 'family', and because I'm so sensitive when it comes to issues about family, I easily crack and end up not enjoying a time of togetherness.

This year, the problem lies in the fact that I have two homes now. First day of break fast is always for family; Mom wanted me at Pasir Ris, but I didn't want to. Told her how I felt. How Paya Lebar is my home too, that the people there are my family too. Glad she understood my choice.

Though, excuse me if I seem like a hypocrite myself right now, but I hate how the asshole of a big brother of mine did not break fast with the family. As usual. I don't mind if it's because he's working like my dad is, but I bet he's gone out to eat with friends or girlfriend instead. If I see him tweet shit like "First day of buka is a must to be with family", I will personally chop his fucking head off.

So, I shall blog about yesterday now.

I made my way to Paya Lebar to know that my aunt had gone to Johore. So glad I made it, because my grandma would've been all alone otherwise.

We had jemput-jemput ikan billis, with 4 nuggets to the side for me because she knows I love them. The reason why I chose Paya Lebar?: for its simplicity. Mom would have made a ton of things to eat and most of the time I can't finish my share.

So after a whole day of being careful I do not accidentally eat or anything, guess what happened? Like 10 minutes before buka time, Granny passed me my cuppa iced milo, and the idiot me. Out of habit, I took a sip right out of my mug.

It was only when I was swirling it around my mouth did I realise. I didn't know whether I should spit or swallow!!!! In the end I did the latter and just giggled to myself and kept quiet when granny walked in. Ugh, I am such a blurblock ._.

I ate potato chips afterwards, while playing with the kitties. Granny was getting mad at my cat best friend Anis, about how she was always hiding somewhere and not coming into the room when I wasn't around, and only appearing when I'm home hehe.

Fell asleep for about 2 hours before waking up to go back to Pasir Ris.

Got to my doorstep to see a swallowtail moth waiting for me. During this whole moth season, I'd looked long and hard for moths but were never greeted any, until that night at Pasir Ris, probably about a month ago now. That was the first and last moth I'd seen, but it never failed to make me smile to think about it.

It fluttered about me for a bit while I was unlocking the door, and I was careful not to let it in. My parents and brothers wouldn't like it, as much as I would love to invite that moth in. One of the many factors that make me the black sheep of the family.

This morning I thought I saw the same moth by the letterboxes at the void deck. It fluttered the same way as last night's one, and I recognised the way one of its wings bent a little weirdly. I didn't see it when I reached home from school, unfortunately.

I think I can honestly say: I miss the days when I was a pure Paya Lebar girl. Although it's been just a few years, that place was the one that saved me. Pasir Ris breathed into me a life, but Paya Lebar was the one that saved my life, taught me to breathe.

A wise man said, It doesn't matter where you came from, what matters is where you choose to be.

I am a murderer.

I am a murderer.

I kill them all in the same fashion, by putting a knife deep into their hearts, twisting the blade and hearing the melody of their screams. I only stop in dead silence.

I hang their corpses in the doorway of my bedroom, tied to the ceilings in vines. The thorns cut deep into their bodies; into their arms, their throats, their eyes.

Their blood drips on me everyday. I take no notice of it when it happens, but I know I am stained red with what I've done to other people. Others see me as a blood-soaked girl, because I am covered head to toe with this thick red liquid.

I've given up on cleaning myself. I resort to pretending that I am clean, that this blood all over me is an illusion created by the souls of the people I've killed.

The few who have tried to wipe the blood from me ended up the same way as my victims. What was just an act of kindness brought them to their death instead.

I find solace in putting a knife into kind hearts, hearing their screams of pain and agony, listening to how they put their trust in me to put my weapon down.

I'm blissfully aware that what I've done to others drips on me everyday, and the smell lingers around me. I let that scent float around me as a warning; the few who stubbornly come over do not have the right to blame me, for I have signs all over me to stay away.

I am a murderer.

Confessions of a bibliophile

I am in dilemma right now. Deep turmoil. My heart is indecisive. I don't have much time left, and I need to make a decision fast.
I'm not sure what book to read next.

Don't know if you know this, but it's a library here in my bedroom [Pasir Ris]. All these books sitting on my shelves, many amazing ones, many more unread ones. Here I stand, staring at each and every one of them, wondering which one I should check out.

So for the month of June, I've bought myself 5 books, which is actually a huge improvement from the previous months. They're all contemporary genre, which simply means a story set in the real world, about normal lives, normal people. A contrast to the many fantasy books I bought last month. [I don't actually read fantasy very much]

It kinda sucks to not know which book to start on. I should read a book I bought a long time ago which I never got around to reading, yet I don't feel the mood for that particular book. Am I the only one who feels this way?

I've been reading a lot of contemporary this month, maybe because I just wanted to soak in the cuteness of a first love, the support from a loving family, or a road trip on discovering who you are. I've missed having a normal life.

Anyway, just thought I should blog a little something... Been too long since I let my fingers fly around the keyboard like this. It feels good, though nothing can compare to the way my hand moves when I'm writing in my diary.

I've gotten a little too addicted to books. In the past I was fine with just borrowing them from the library. But now that I've learnt how to save and shit, I find myself spending a little too much on books. Heh. *sheepish grin*

I love Booktube. It's a community of Youtubers who make videos about books; book recommendations, book reviews, book hauls. They're the only Youtube-famous people who share the same love with me. They understand my desire to collect books too, the only difference being that they can afford more than I can.

I love physical books. I like the sound of the page turning, I like the smell of its pages. I don't read any e-books or Wattpad or whatnot, because it's just not the same as a real book.
I love how I'm holding an entire world in my hands.
I love the thought of how a knife is hidden in the pages, waiting to stab me in the heart when I get there, again and again.

A lot of books have killed me, this I can't deny. [and honestly The Fault In Our Stars isn't as painful as many other books I read] I love every book that I've read, even long after I finished it. I never forget their stories like how people easily forget mine.

2012 was when I read the most; I was reading a new book every 2 days, believe it or not. They were my only friends at the time, old friends who came to me asking if I was okay, even when I had neglected them before. [just like how writing was]

I wanted to write more about how I've loved reading since I was a kid, and have never stopped since, and how books mean the world to me but I think that's enough for this post haha. I should get back to reading, I have more than 30 unread books, and that is so shameful of me. *another sheepish grin*

A war with my dreams

I didn't want to talk about this to anyone because people would just think I'm crazy.

My dreams have been getting weird. I have no other way to put it, but they're starting to have minds of their own. Like how a doll suddenly gains ability to move around.

As if it wasn't enough that they've been dark, violent, bloody; now it feels like they want to take over me. Like they want to be real instead of just dreams. Like how Pinocchio was a puppet who wanted to be a real boy.

Just a while ago, they started to come at times of the day when they were least expected. Then they started to come more and more consistent and frequent. I'd wake up from a dream that seemed to have gone on for days, only to see that 10 minutes have passed since I fell asleep.

My dreams were improving like how movies improved in time. They were becoming 4-dimensional, or 5-dimensional, or whatever. I've been starting to feel the effects of what my dream-self went through in the dreams. I've felt cold when I woke up from a dream with snow. A headache from a dream where I was shot in the head. Little things like that.

A few nights ago, I had this dream where I was surrounded by fire, and at the same time being rained upon. I had a high fever the day after, the kind of fever you'd develop when you get caught in hujan panas [not sure what it's called in English, but it's kinda 'rain when the sun is still out'].

This morning, I woke up vomiting non-stop, and my stomach was hurting so bad.
I had just woken up from a dream in which I was pregnant.

I told myself I've grown used to all these dreams, but they're still scary nonetheless. What scares me is how they're starting to control me. The line that divides reality and Dreamworld is fading, and my dreams seem to be winning this war right now.

My thoughts don't control my dreams anymore.
My dreams control my thoughts. 
They're getting into my head and I've no idea how to get them out.

I've been happy these past 2 months or so, really I have. So I have no reason to dream of such miserable things, because I haven't had sad thoughts. It feels like, the dreams I have need misery to feed on, and are angry to know that I've been happy, because they're hungry.

Someone told me he's had nightmares about me, three nights in a row. We've never talked personally with each other. We've not talked or met for a long time in fact, and we were never even close, so it was strange for him to be getting bad dreams about me.

It makes me feel overpowered by something so damn weak like dreams. What does my Dreamworld want? What is it trying to tell me, or do to me? It drives me crazy thinking of how it's acting on me right now. It's a mystery that can never be solved. A case that people would just laugh at and forget.

I really don't like sleeping anymore, because of all these bad dreams. Nightmares that leave lasting impacts on me through the whole day, screaming for attention and desperately wanting me to be miserable. God. It's tiring. I won't be surprised if I die in my sleep anytime soon.

Then again I really want to fight back. If they really do feed on my agony and pain, then all the more I should be happy and positive in order to get rid of them. I shouldn't let these things get to me; what comes from Dreamworld should stay in the Dreamworld. Stay at the back of my head, and don't come out ever.

Erudite anal-probe???

Another night, another dream. Long enough and an impact that's hard. I'd managed to get a whole dream to write about this time, after getting vague dreams the whole term since school started. Meh.

Anyway, I'm starting to believe my Dreamworld is really one world in its own. I don't know how to put it in words, apart from the fact that the places I dreamt of, I don't just see them again in real life, but I see them again in separate dreams.

Just a while ago I dreamt of an apocalyptic Johore Bahru. I was in a car, looking out the window, driving along its abandoned ruins. The grounds were snow-filled, though I don't remember if there were anymore snow falling from the sky.

I believe last night I was brought back to that time and space. I remember more snow, the same ruined road, and someone mentioning that we were going 'deeper into Johore Bahru', probably further than where my dream-self had explored before.

'We' arrived at this little town [I don't recall exactly who I was with], which actually consisted of a garden, a few houses and a freaking huge school. The whole town was filled with snow, which made it difficult to walk, especially through the garden, but I made it.

We got into the compound of the school, which was deserted as hell. Not for long because a woman with a giant bell protruding out of her stomach ran over to us and started making a lot of noise by ringing the bell and yelling at the top of her voice.

One of the people I was with said that was the job of these bell-stomached people: to attract attention and alert the authorities when there are intruders. As soon as he said that, a woman appeared behind him, one who looked important, she in her suit and hands behind her back, chin held high.

We all seemed calm, though I'm pretty sure my companions were scared as fuck. She commanded us to follow her, which we did, until 2 of the boys from the 5 of us developed a plan and ran off. The remaining 3 of us didn't follow, because the woman had had her eyes on us. What's more, the fact that she had seen the other 2 boys running off but wasn't fazed by it just intrigued all of us.

She brought us into this room, chucked at the back of the school, and the first thing I noticed upon walking into it was a grown man laid on an uncomfortable-looking bed. He was naked, and he was completely stripped of his sexual organs.

I slowly looked around to see that he wasn't the only one. There was one by the door, another by our side, both laid down, naked and without any genitals. My companions who followed the woman with me were a girl and a boy, so you can imagine the look of horror on the latter.

The woman explained: "For many years, this town we live in has been in extreme poverty. Despite that, education and intelligence mean the world to us, more valuable than any amount of money or any diamond. Many of the people in our school were too poor to afford schoolbooks, but the rule of the town is that it's compulsory for everyone in our town to know the content of our books.

That is why, the only way we could spread the knowledge without spending a single cent was to circumcise these men, so we could probe into them the content of the books. What is written in these books are put into them via anus so as to transfer the information to their heads."

And she demonstrated.

I'm not even gonna try to describe it. It was too grotesque, too horrific for words.

We all watched in horror until the woman casually looked at us and said, "As long as you've touched your feet on our land for more than 10 minutes, you are considered part of us, and thus, it is necessary that you withhold the content of our schoolbooks in your heads as well."

We slowly backed up as she approached us, until the door opened behind us and our other 2 companions yelled at us to run. We didn't need them to tell us that; we bolted out the door and our feet took us, anywhere as long as we were away from the woman and the anal-probing.

We had a car, but it was parked at the outskirts of the garden and we couldn't take the risk of changing direction. It was chaos as we just, well, ran.

I got separated from my companions, and for the rest of the dream I was on my own exploring this dystopian town that was once Johore Bahru. I reached a carnival where monkeys were attempting to steal your phones. I drank at a bar where they decided who were your friends or foes by taking blood tests. I looked out the window to see that the sun was just a giant yellow spaceship with orange rings around it.

My dream-self was in disbelief that that was happening to her. It all felt too surreal, but unfortunately for her, everything that she had seen or felt was her reality. Just like how I feel when I'm on a bus, looking out the window, thinking of all that has happened to me.

Maybe that's just why my dreams take a huge toll on me. She's convinced that she's in reality when she's just in my dreams, so I wake up believing that her world is mine. I wake up still stuck in there, still messed around by the things she had seen.

Just a theory. I love theories.

And that's just the dream I had this morning. I woke up from it at 4 in the morning, feeling breathless and perspiring my head off. I don't remember what was the last thing I'd been running from really, considering the fact that running away from the woman had happened toward the beginning. There're so many gaps in my dreams most of the time.

I also can't forget the display of the men on their beds, with holes at where their sexual organs should have been. As much as I hate men, that is not a pleasant sight, and seeing them anally probed was not nice at all. Ah. My goosebumps.

Dear faggot ex

Don't think I don't have a clue that you still read my blog. Isn't it ironic that you shoot your mouth off about me not moving on when you're the one stalking my blog and shit? [I stalk your Twitter only when I know you've read my blog] I've had so much to rant about you since forever. Glad I have the chance now.

You, my dear faggot, have got to stop thinking so highly of yourself. Yeah, I'm friends with some of your friends, but does that mean I want you back? And who was the one who introduced us in the first place? Was there a rule stating that friends can't keep their friendship when the mutual friend isn't friends with one of them anymore?

You probably hate me because of my long blog post for you the other time, but I never understood why ya know. To put it in words, you've probably told your side of the story to your tertiary friends, that's why even the ones whom I liked so much and whom I thought cared for me, cut off all ties with me as well. [I can imagine you with your cuntface while you tell them your standard "She cheated on me twice!" *rolls eyes*]

They never heard my part but they already made their judgement that I am the villain. How fair is that? So let me tell my side of the story then, why don't you. Thus you can't hold it against me to write and let people see that post.

I don't understand why you even made me to be the bad guy. I cheated on you twice? Maybe the first incident is considered, not that heavy a case but at least I admit it was a huge mistake on my part, and I only allowed it to happen once before I talked to you about it, while the second can't even be classified as 'cheating'.

Secondly, I'd explained to you both incidents, I told you my feelings and why I'd done that. Thirdly, these two shit happened so long ago, long before our break-up even. In between you told me you were okay with me already, that you already put that all behind you. Fourthly, these two incidents weren't even the reason why you broke up with me.

Dude. From October up to our break-up I was trying so goddamn hard for you. I already saw that you were losing interest, but I still did my freaking best while I let you sit back and relax in the relationship. The few times you had to comfort me, was the few times I crumbled from exhaustion of doing my best for you.

Who was the one who left, clearly stating it was because he lost interest in me? Who was the one who coldly shrugged his arm off when I was begging him not to go, who said so casually, "I just don't love you anymore." Why am I the villain?

All the crazy things I did after our break-up; who wouldn't break down like that after being dumped just two days after the goddamn anniversary with a reason like yours dude? Who ever saw it coming? How would you feel if you're laughing with someone one minute, and the next, he suddenly punches you right in the face? Pretty sure your emotions would take over you, you can't deny it.

And put yourself in my place. What if you're the one who had no one except for the person you love? What if you're the one who literally has no friends in school, no parents or siblings to talk to, nobody except your other half? What if you had someone who knows everything you've gone through and supposedly understands why you need her so badly? How would you feel if you've done all you could for her because you only have her, but one day she just decides that she doesn't want you anymore, after you've been together for one year?

It hurts okay?

So why am I the villain? Why do you make me the bad guy? I never deserved any of it. I did wrong to you but at least I admitted my mistakes. You're still living in your fantasy that I'm 100% the bad guy of the story, you don't even admit how you've wronged me. Just... UGH. Who's the egoistic one?

One more thing I admit. It does suck to have your ex girlfriend liking your best friend. I know it's stupid that I've gotten a crush on him of all people, but even that in itself is nothing wrong. Again, me liking him has got nothing to do with my past relationship with you. I feel bummed out too with the fact that he's your best friend, you piece of shit, but still I only want to see him as him, not 'my ex's best friend'.

Again, you're the one not moving on. You've lost interest in me, you've broken up with me, you've stopped contacting me altogether. You doing all this should lead to you treating me as just another girl, thus you shouldn't see any problem with me going out with him. You shouldn't give a shit. I'm just another girl. Tell yourself that you faggot. Because I really am nothing to you.

I honestly don't know what exactly are your problems with me liking him, but whatever it is, I assure you you are wrong. If you think I've got any hidden intentions, I'll tell you what it is. My hidden intention is that I want to know more about him, I want to listen to him and I want to take care of him better than you ever would.

That's it. If you think I wanna get to him only to get back at you, fuck off. Ain't nobody got time for that. And Idk, a part of me has this feeling that you're thinking I've liked your best friend since the days we were still together. Well the answer is no, I didn't have feelings for him like that when I was still with you, and even if so, you lost interest in me months before you broke up with me, remember that, and that's no different.

And I told myself that if I want to be with him, I shouldn't try regarding you, not even any hate. Because although I will never have the chance of being his, I don't want to cause him the disservice of having his best friend and a girl fighting over him and shit. He means a lot to me, and I don't want to cause unnecessary trouble, though maybe I already am..

God dammit what else do I have to spit out at you... Just hate it if I leave out any important points even if it's just ranting ._.

Well, dude. Just wanna give you the good news that I've been out of your goddamned life since January, so you don't have to worry about that. Your friends don't equate to you, so me being close with a friend of yours or two doesn't make me still in your life, and it doesn't give you reason to be all "when will you fuck off from my life" just because you see me hanging out with your classmate.

I see all my friends as who they are, and it doesn't matter that you were the one who introduced them. They have names, they have their lives, they have no reason to be linked to you.

Also, nothing justifies you saying "holy shit you disgust me so much", because you are the disgusting one. If you still don't know why after reading this post of mine [which I've written only to stand up for myself] go look in the mirror and reflect on what you've forced me to do for you, you filthy piece of shit.

Any arguments, please feel free to fucking mention me.

Take me back

Take me back to that night in 1995

Before I was granted a life.

Before my hands were able to hold.

Before my shell was granted a soul.

Take me back to 2004 

Before the little body became bruised and sore.

Before the secret was given away.

Before their fights every night and day.

Take me back to 2010

Before a boy was mistaken for a man.

Before a girl gave him everything she's got.

Before he ran away with the whole lot.

Take me back to 2012

Before the best true friends were left.

Before the careless spill of the first blood.

Before home's door was slammed shut.

Take me back to January

Before I knew the life that I'm living now would ever belong to me.

Before I stopped meaning the things I say and have said.

Before I started mixing reality with the things in my head.

Joyously depressing

Today was what you could call bittersweet.

I don't really want to use that word though, because somehow it sounds sad. My day was, as I called it, joyously depressing. Like how you'd see the people in an insane asylum laughing away, unaware about their conditions.

It started with my daily morning stroll to Mountbatten station. Because first class started at 8, I had to leave my Paya Lebar house by 6. The silence was peaceful and at the same time eerie, and there weren't any cats or people around. No birds chirping. Pretty much like how solitude comforts yet kills.

When I got to school, a song called "Happy" came next on my playlist. It lifted my spirits, even when I'd been thinking of the sad things in life throughout my bus journey.

A long time ago, I read the English lyrics of this song; contrary to its joyous and upbeat tune, it's about letting go of someone who means the world to you; how you've lost yours, but that you wish they'd find their own happiness.

That's when I realised that it doesn't matter how sad your lyrics are. As long as you have a happy tune, everything will be alright. The happy is all that everyone hears and sees.

And then I had a fight with one of the few people who means a lot to me. This fag has always meant a lot, but I don't show it, and he knows that. Regardless of my newly found hatred for guys and my declared statement of I don't want to care anymore, somehow I actually do, but I don't know how to prove it.

I don't know how to show it. I don't even know if my affection for this person is good enough. Because judging from what he'd said, it looks like my presence hasn't made any impact on him for the past 2 months of our friendship. It seems that I haven't made any difference, whether or not I'm in his life. I could go on giving him the silent treatment for days and he'd never notice I was gone.

I spent my three hours lunch break completing the book I started on yesterday. It's one of those books where you have to get into it without having a clue what it's about, so I'm not gonna say much about it.

It's a funny one, yet at the same time depressing because it poked and prodded hard at me, right in the most sensitive spots of my past 18 years. I had to take a few deep breaths each time its plot twisted suddenly, had to let a few tears slip when I imagined myself in the protagonist's place.

By the time I read to its end, I couldn't hold it anymore. I tossed the book aside and ran to the toilet, where I hid in a cubicle and cried my eyes out. In the middle of my bawling, I caught my reflection [there's a mirror in every cubicle in my school's Atrium toilet] and, seeing how ugly I looked, started to laugh at my silliness.

It's just a book, I told myself. It's just a little paperback, just words in devious placements, forming sentences and paragraphs that became knives, stabbing you in the heart again and again. I smiled and wiped my tears away. It's just a book.

I didn't know whether I should label it 'better than', or 'worse than', in comparison to the book that stirred everyone else's hearts, The Fault In Our Stars. This book I'd read was better than that because its plot was not expected at all and I related to it better, but at the same time it was worse because it'd made me cry harder. [then again, if a book were to touch your heart so deeply like that, I'm pretty sure that makes it a good one]

I had to make my way to class after that, where I'd suffered a terrible book hangover. I couldn't stop thinking of the ending, of the characters, of the world through the protagonist's eyes. It felt like I was still stuck in the world of the book, still on Beechwood Island.

And then I looked down at my arms. The thin white stripes on the black background of my sleeves brought me back to 2011.

And at that moment, I lost all my senses. I didn't know what was reality anymore.
I got it mixed
with the world of the books I'd read
with the world I fantasise living in
with the alternate universe where the other 'me' was living the life I never had
with my Dreamworld
with the past.

I didn't know what was going on anymore, and that made me want to laugh
and cry
at the same time.

I'm in my own asylum. One part of me laughs too hard at the smallest things, another keeps her chin too high until only the insides of her nose could be seen, which disgusted and chased others away. The other parts are trapped in my head, yelling again and again, I'm not crazy, I want out, help me, I'm not supposed to be here. Another part yells Leave me the fuck alone. I'm fine on my own. Leave me be.

But the biggest soul of them all speaks, and immediately the rest of these voices shut up. The biggest soul in me simply says:

Today was a bittersweet day, but I wouldn't really use that word because it sounds too sad.
Today was joyously depressing.
In a way that the patients in an insane asylum would laugh like mad, unaware of their conditions.

Putting myself in others' shoes

Some things have been on my mind lately. About putting myself in other people's shoes. The past boyfriend said I never understood him, because I'd never thought about his feelings, or about the situation he was in.

Sure, most of the time I was too egoistic, but a few points of our relationship, I swear I'd placed him first without a second thought. Not gonna talk about those moments because they don't matter anymore.

He left, and ever since then I'd changed my way of thinking by placing myself in the shoes of others. Simpler said, I was just looking at myself the way others would, by looking at others through my own eyes.

I tried imagining how others looked at me. They wouldn't care, because I wouldn't care about anybody else. You could try sending some message through your tweets or retweets or favourites or whatever, but truth is, nobody would bother reading between the lines for you. Because would you do that when it comes to somebody else? I don't think so. You'd only react to somebody else's suffering if the fact's thrown right into your face.

Nobody would try to decode your life by reading your tweets, nobody would dig into your Favourites to know what secret message you're trying to convey. Nobody would Google the lyrics of the song you #np just to know how you feel. Nobody would read your blog, and even if they do, they wouldn't really care enough to know you better or to make you feel better.

Nobody would look at you and ever wonder, "Does she ever sit on a bus and cry her eyes out as she looks out the window?",  "Is she tired from having two families and two places to call home?", "Does she still feel hurt by the words I just don't love you anymore, even 5 months after a boy said that to her, and 2 years after her own parents said that to her?"

No. Nobody would care to even wonder that. As long as they see that you're fine on the surface, that's it. That's all they see in you. Because come on, that's how you see them.

What am I saying? My point is, knowing others wouldn't care, why should I care about others, really? I'm fine in my own world, because from what I can see, the rest of the world is fine the way they are too. Do I make sense?

I don't trust my life in the hands of another anymore, I don't really care anymore if people leave, I don't bother to know how others are feeling on the inside. I don't want to do things for others anymore, because I'd end up getting hurt. I'd rather hurt others, because this is my life at stake. My feelings. Not theirs.

To know that the nicest person to you was just faking it all along. To know the one whom you called your world already lost his feelings for you just when you were starting to try again. To know the one who gave birth to you thought you were ugly all along and only appreciated your uniqueness when you were gone. To know the one you really like hugged you tight like his world depended on you, only as a friendly gesture. Everyone is selfish, so why can't I be?

I almost gave way to my selflessness earlier by getting this urge to run back to NYP just to accompany a friend of mine. I'm glad I didn't, because this is a new start for me. I don't want to care anymore.

Old videos and sudden realisation

I've been doing lots of shit on my laptop lately. And by shit, I really mean all things that've got to do with videos. Watching, editting, uploading, and downloading. Uh huh, I'd found a way into my old Youtube and Facebook accounts to get a hold of some shit I'd uploaded in 2011.

Most of them are really cringe-worthy; even though they've long been taken down, I'm still horrified at the fact that, at one point of time those videos were up for everyone to see. I'm ashamed of the fact that at the time I made these, I was actually so proud of myself. Ugh.

Moving on. I still make videos in 2014, though I only just started, and most of them are random as heck, things which you wouldn't really give a shit about. Pretty sure in years to come, I'm gonna feel ashamed of my recent videos.

Anyway, 2011 consisted mostly classroom memories. The earlier ones were crappy, with annoying editing and my equally annoying face. And my "conclusion spot", which I'm pretty sure my best friend Siying remembers and is laughing about right now. 

It was only in May-July that I started to focus on the class more, til eventually I was labelled the 'class videographer', because it was pretty much my job to record all the stupid moments xD

I really want to upload the cheer that 4/2 2011 did because there're no other uploads of it and a lot of my old classmates had been looking for it throughout the years. But my 16-year-old self just had to edit in stupid unnecessary text throughout our performance. It is making me so angry right now, damn you sec 4 E'inz!

I really want to upload it clean, but the only completely raw footage of our cheer back then is in my old laptop, which charger I've lost, unfortunately. 

I've been laughing to myself the whole evening [and the past few days really] because of my newly found old videos. Such good memories, with the class and with the girls. Gonna make a "Best of 4/2 2011" video soon, I hope.

Anyway, I've chosen one to re-upload. I'd made this in 2010, for Art, because we had to draw illustrations, with a storyboard, and make a video with our pictures. I hadn't submitted this shit because I was Queen of Procrastination. I actually only did it after we moved on to another project and when I was told I'd failed this assignment.

Knowing me, I probably didn't even do a storyboard for this. I remember drawing 4 frames for my intended storyboard, but I didn't even have these characters haha, it was a completely different story. Ahem, anyway, getting right to it. 

I don't know, watching it now, 4 years later, I'm actually seeing a deep meaning behind it. Especially in relevance to my past relationship and my dislike on guys now, meh.

Pretty aware that I'd 'stolen his happiness' when we were together, like how that rooftop symbolised a relationship. That worm kind of represents my past, how it had gotten into him and destroyed him. 

Man... I can infer so much from this video, but it's hard to explain, because he and I are the only ones in the world who really understand how our relationship was like, I guess. 

And I feel like if I write out what I really think of it, y'all just gonna laugh at how silly I'm being. And if whoever's close to him, or even he himself, were to read it, they're just gonna give a snort of disgrace. So... All of it shall go to my diary then.

Guys are stupid

If you're active on Twitter or if you know me you should probably be aware that... Hmm how do I put it nicely... I hate guys. Yep, there.

It makes me seem like I'm not straight, I know. A Heroine of mine asked if I'm a les, haha, along with so many other assumptions from other people. Just thought I should clear these up, although I'm pretty sure nobody gives a fuck :-)

Yeah, after all my past experiences, it's pretty easy to say I hate guys now. I have a vengeance against the male species, and I mean it. Sure, I may be crushing on a guy, but he's special.... Okay back on track. 

Most of the guys I'd 'fallen' for were faggots, and probably still are, we never know. Since I don't know how else to show you why I hate them, I shall just list all the idiots who were part of my life at one point or another, who mistreated me, if that's the right word. 

1. There was the douchebag who would put an arm around me, give me little forehead/cheek kisses, all those 'cute' things guys would do to their girlfriends. Except he only treated me as a little sister. An 'adik angkat', if you're more familiar with that. 

For most of 2010 he continued doing that, treated me special, talked to me like I was special, shit like that. Until the day we shared our first kiss. I asked him if he would be my boyfriend, and he said he'd think about it. A week later he ignored me completely, and got another girl as his girlfriend. It was only about a year later that he came coming back to me.

2. During that period he was with that girl, I met another guy, of course. We shared a common interest, him with his photography and me with my videography. We got together, but I found out that all along he was never over his ex. [they were together for nearly two years]

He started talking to me about her a lot, telling me it was hard to move on because they were in the same class. And that the whole time he was only seeing me as her because we had a few similarities, like how we collected notebooks. And I remember they had a class outing, and he said to me "I would have kissed her that night if it wasn't for you."

Meh, he broke up with me and got back together with her shortly after if I'm not wrong. Oh, and he was the one who first brought me to second base. And he kept claiming I was the one who stole his happiness.

3. The guy who smothered me with attention and 'love', just to get me to home run, which I'd stupidly allowed out of pure loneliness. I can never get back what he took from me. We were never together. 

4. My latest relationship, the son of an uztad, who claimed he was always praying for me on his last sujud, who wanted me so badly to repent, to start praying and to wear tudung. Who always seemed so understanding when I told him I did have the intention, just that I wanted to repent on my own pace.

Also the same guy who judged everyone, looked down on those who weren't as religious as him, who dragged me into the handicap toilet with him on multiple occasions, who slapped me hard across the face when I didn't want to make out with him, who lost interest in me when I didn't let him touch me for a long time. 

Okay this one is making me so fucking mad right now. He's probably been telling everyone that I 'cheated on him twice', because that's the exact same phrase he's been saying to me ever since September last year. I'd explain this, but I don't want to turn this post into one dedicated to him. Maybe next time, because I've some other shit to rant about him anyway.

Pretty sure you've heard this already: he broke up with me two days after our anniversary, with the sentence I can never forget: "I just don't love you anymore."

5. Then came my time with the Whatsapp groups society. The first group I was in, and the first guy who approached me: he was tall and handsome, and absolutely charming, and the way he approached me was the best compared to the other guys, who were too direct and quick and shit.

This one asked me out on a date, to which I couldn't make it last minute because I'd misinterpreted my exam schedule. He got sad because he really wanted to see me, so I just told him okay, I'll see you after my exam, no matter how late it is.

He brought me to the basketball court where he played with his friends while I sat at the corner because I really wasn't a sportsperson [not that he invited me to play anyway]. I didn't mind really it was nice watching him in his comfort zone, and I forgot about it all when he gave me a goodbye hug when we parted at the station.

He didn't text me at all that night, which was strange considering the fact that before that, he was always texting me at every chance he got. Even the next morning, I decided to wish him a good morning, to which he just simply ignored. [Last Seen, and because he was talking on the group Whatsapp but not to me]

I don't know, his excuse was that he felt bad for making me wait, but right after that I heard it was because he was already contacting with another girl -.- So I started talking to Guy #6, and this Guy #5 was so mad about that for some reason, and we had a huge fall out because of some tweets. [you all know I rant on Twitter too much]

I went to our Whatsapp group and told everyone "I really wanna love you all because this is my first ever group, but one rotten apple spoils the whole basket."

He privately texted me, to which he was like, "We weren't even dating, so why have feelings for me?" and I was like Whuuut!? Which part of one rotten fucking apple spoils the whole basket [aka you, bitch] sounds like hey handsome, I like you!?!?!?

I really wanted to leave but I also wanted to stay because I liked the admin and most of the other people in the group. I talked to the admin about it, and she told me that yeh, that fag is damn egoistic, but he's actually damn nice on the inside and I could try saying sorry.

So I did, I carefully put out my words, and I said it so nicely that "Hey, I just wanna say sorry for whatever anger I caused you, I just hope we could go back to normal friends because we're in the same group after all, and because I really want our Admin to be happy." shit like that.

What was his response? Nope, not an "It's okay, I'm sorry too." or "Okay, you're forgiven (:". NOPE.

"Ok can"

Literally just a fucking "Ok can". NO FUCKING FULL STOP AT ALL TOO, HOW RUDE IS THAT.
Like fuck that shit, I left the group right after. 

6. The last guy I was supposedly in love with. He shared common interests with me, the most special one being his liking for writing. We talked for weeks and he was being so sweet to me and shit, but all along he actually had a girlfriend. One that's been going on for about two years too. 

I had to do a bit of stalking before I found out. His name was on her bio, so I asked him if he was attached. He still denied it, before he did eventually tell the truth. 

This one is the epitome of a dickhead. The first time we met each other, he was already holding my hand and shit. And when he told me to "Close your eyes and imagine a zombie apocalypse...", he waited until I did, before he leant in and kissed me. He kissed me. 

When I found out he had a girlfriend I kept telling him he had to tell her about me but I was so damn taken in with his sweet words to me that I continued seeing him even afterwards.

We don't talk anymore and he's left Heroine, but what makes him a bigger jerk was the fact that this one time, I think his girlfriend dumped him for a while, and he straightway came running to me. Texted me asking me to meet him and shit, telling me he'd came to my school and was sitting at my hideout, hoping I would have gone there. Tried to use his sweet words on me again, ugh.

They're fine together again, and he isn't texting me anymore, which is a good thing really, but just makes me think of him as the typical guy who straightway looks for a substitute once he doesn't have anyone. Jeez. I'm good friends with the girlfriend now, sorry if you're reading this my gurl.

7. A Heroine of mine introduced me to a classmate of his, who also had a blog. I followed this guy on Twitter, he followed back and a few days later mentioned to me, "Hey, nice blog you have there. Keep it up :)" which made me so happy because he's so handsome and cute lah. [and also taller than me]

Well, a friendship did form between us, but it didn't go very far. We talked everyday, he was randomly mentioning to me on Twitter like he wanted to show people I was that special to him, and always giving me good morning and goodnight texts, always called me sweetie which I oh so liked.

But then school started, and I could see he was kind of well losing interest? He didn't wish me good morning anymore, and his replies to my random mentions were uninterested. Til eventually he just stopped texting, and then I saw that he unfollowed me on Twitter.

Mm, I never did found out much about that guy. Thought we could have had something special because he was really a nice person, haha. This encounter just led to me thinking that guys never know what they want, and that once you show interest in him, he'd avoid you. Just like girls.

8. And then of course there's the older brother. The number 1 dickhead in the world. You know how they say oooohhhh, I want a son first and then a daughter so my son could beat the shit out of anyone who breaks my daughter's heart. In this family, not at all.

More like the son beats the shit out of anyone who breaks the daughter's heart. Just my luck that the one person who probably has the power to make me not hate guys, is also a jerk. 

____

All these dickheads guys have had their own blog posts, where I'd ranted out my story with them, if you've read them during the time they were written, or if you'd dug out my past haha.

Before you say it, yes, I know not all guys are like that. There are the few who have been so kind and nice to me, who have noticed me in this mess and taken an interest in me of all people, and whom I have hurt instead of the other way around.

Honourable mentions, like NJ, who was the one who lifted me up during my bad break-up of 2012. Who taught me how to cycle and was constantly there for me, until I pushed him away like heck on his 18th birthday. Haven't heard from him since.

Like D, who watched me drink and tumble everywhere and slide my face down the wall, and brought me all the way to school in that state and waited for me to end counselling just to buy me milo and made sure I was okay.

Like Z, who liked me for my differences, like my love for books, and who wanted to start reading again because of me. Whom I hurt, because I chose to fall for the dickhead who was cheating on his girlfriend, instead of him.

Like A, whom I've heard negative things about but who has proved me wrong with his everyday company, his constant positivity and how he can tolerate my bullshit.

Like Y, who'd probably suffer the consequences of being friends with me, but continues to hang out with me and exchange problems with me, because "Just let them say what they want to, you're still my friend no matter what."

Like R, who got attracted to me of all people, because of my flaws, and who tried so hard to let me know he was there, realising my worth and existence. Who is still trying, despite knowing how head over heels I am over somebody else.

And also L, who is the most special of them all. The brightest star in the sky.

____

My point of this post is.... I forgot. I think I ended up making this post look like a dedication to all guys of the world, holy shit. I actually hate them, trust me, I really do. In fact, if you're one of the guys on my Honourable Mentions, I just wanna let you know that I hate you because I see an inner dickhead in your heart. [ugh, you should know I still appreciate you]

My point is actually, I wanna be a feminist. My experiences with guys are plenty enough for me to realise that they're assholes, and not only towards me but towards other girls as well. We girls don't need them. I am getting tired of those quotes on Twitter that make it seem like all girls are dependent on guys. We aren't!

If anything, they're the ones who need us. I swear to Arceus, we girls are so damn powerful on our own, and it's the existence of men that bring us down. I don't even know why they are considered the 'superiority' gender when they're weak as heck, and stupid as heck.

I don't know, I just... I wish we'd rise over the male species. I wish we'd continue getting the respect that we deserve, goddammit. I wish we'd stop looking down on ourselves just because a guy rejected us, or broke up with us, or made sexist jokes about us.

Because from what I see, we girls have so much more potential in us than idiot guys. If only we'd see it and realise that Hey, we can balance ourselves on tiny high heels. Of course we can stand on our own on other circumstances.

Okay, I'm not yet a feminist. I'm not even sure if that's the right word for what I wanna stand up for, so I'll do a bit more research before doing this again. This is a pretty long post, I don't even know if anyone's read it up to this point. *smiles awkwardly*

HAPPY / a little update on life

Not sure if anyone's noticed, but I haven't been blogging much lately. I'd like to think it's because I've been busy with school and assignments and shit, but nope. I'm still the same old lazy person who cuts off all ties with schoolwork once I'm home.

Other reasons as to why I hadn't been blogging is because
1. I've been writing in my diary more often.
2. I've too many books I need to read.
3. I haven't been sad/angry/happy enough to blog, as silly as it sounds, because we all know how my blog posts usually revolved around my emotions.

If you're a constant reader, you'd remember my posts from some time ago where I'd wrote about how I struggled to get back with writing. I've been doing a good job about that, and I'm really proud of myself. I've not been writing everyday like I used to, but it's a start.

There's also the obsession with books. I buy way too many books, faster than the rate in which I read. Current count of unread books on my shelves are 37, I think. [maybe I bought more since I last counted, I don't remember] [and yes I'm currently broke because of this]

And then with regards to point 3, I just haven't encountered anything that made me super sad or angry enough to blog about. My recent posts have been about this particular guy I'm crushing on [being with him makes me happy], and a flea market with the best friend, with a single angry post in between.

Sad posts are rare right now, if that's the right word? Sure, I've been sad, but those feelings weren't strong enough to bring me down, because I always found ways to cheer myself up. It feels good, I swear I've never felt this way before.

The only thing that makes me sad these days is the fact that my guy isn't liking me back, haha. Other than that, meh... Nothing much to make me miserable, really.

I've learnt to deal with the fact that I have two homes, and that I have no friends in school. I've been obediently transferring to and fro Pasir Ris and Paya Lebar, no more crying about being tossed here and there, no more getting upset about the changes I'd seen in my two hometowns.

I've been eating lunch on my own, not at my hideout but in plain sight. It used to bother me to be seen eating alone, but right now I just don't care anymore. I've started looking forward to lunch because I get to watch videos while eating my rice bowl, muehehe. [Shi Hui and I rarely get the same lunchtimes together]

Today, I'm back at Paya Lebar. I've been watching some old videos on my Youtube account [you can't see them because most of them are private] and I've been laughing my ass off the whole time!!! They're just so memorable, and I swear, I looked way more hideous back then.

All those happy memories of 2011 make me sad inside, because I'd thrown away the chance of having that same happiness in 2012. Why? Because of a break-up, if you'd read my long post from July last year.

Lesson learnt, don't let a break-up bring you down no matter what. And we girls don't need the presence of guys to remind us we're beautiful and strong and shit. Just no. We're fine on our own, really. We just don't realise our potential. If anything, them dudes are the ones who rely on us more.

I don't want to go all feminist on you right now, haha. And anyway, despite my hate and take on guys, I'm still having a crush on one right now, so I'd better not seem hypocritical, if that's the right word.

So anyway, just some recent updates?: I've been going to school, heh. There's this kid who's literally in my every class, and luckily for me he's super friendly. He first approached me on the first Friday of lessons, and he's been disturbing me in class ever since. He hadn't been present in school today, and it was super quiet without him, because he's always super noisy.

I'd been laughing in class a lot, believe it or not. Not that I'm officially friends with everyone, [I don't know their names, and I'm pretty sure they don't even notice my existence] but being in the same classroom as them brings out some joy in me :3

There's also this guy whose name I've forgotten, but he's been helpful in two of my classes, and he's super nice too. Many nice people really, and funny and entertaining. Just make sure I don't get too close to anyone, and I'm pretty sure this semester will be a breeze.

That's it for today then. Not sure if anyone would read this, other than my usual loyal readers like Siying and Nura (': But I love you, whoever's reading this.

current song that's been on repeat: Happy // 2NE1
current book I'm reading: How To Love // Katie Cotugno 

Cheesy poem for you

You, looking so shy and invisible
So small that you're barely noticeable
You've got a smile that dances in the darkest nights
Eyes that shine the brightest of all the lights

My hatred for him grows all the more merrier
Knowing you see him as a barrier
My heart breaks knowing I've lost you to him
But it rages seeing the way he keeps you in

Does he look out for you the way I do?
Does he understand your religious view?
Does he listen to every word you say?
Does he bother asking you about your day?

You, looking so lost and clueless
Leaking of a mixture of secrets and innocence
Never forgotten a single word you've said,
I yearn to know everything that happens in your head.

If you would open your eyes a little and see
You'd know at least half the things he told me
The way I see it, you're in his control
How I wish I could return you your heart and soul.

Does he realise how much you're worth?
Does he appreciate your existence on this Earth?
Does he bother hearing out your stories
Or does he just judge you and your theories?

Would he sacrifice for you some of his strength

Or give away a load of his breath?

Tell me how long more would he keep you in his life

Because he certainly wouldn't make you his wife.

I wish you'd run away with me and take a chance

Hold my hand in yours and follow the same plans 

I swear to you he won't take care of you like I would

He can never love you the way I could.

Reasons why I like you

I really mean it when I say you're one of a kind. You aren't like any other guys at all, you're the exact opposite of every other girl's dreamboy, you're invisible to many, and that is just what pulls me toward you.

1. You handle my ranting the way no one else could.
When I tell you my problems, you don't fuss over me. You don't give me advice. In fact, your replies don't have anything to do with my ranting most of the time. You talk about something else entirely, making me laugh and taking my mind off my troubles at the same time.

2. I love your obsession with Science.
I really do love listening to you go on about things which go against my metaphors. I love having you answer my questions about anything and everything. I love seeing you "typing...", knowing it was a dozen more texts explaining what I'd just asked. The rare occasions where you'd talk more than I would.

3. You make me feel like a little girl again.
When was the last time I had a silly schoolgirl crush??? It feels better to like somebody than to be liked. I feel so happy seeing you at your school. I melt into a puddle whenever I look into the pool that is your eyes. I get a dozen butterflies just standing next to you, I get electric shocks whenever we make contact. And when I'm not with you, I sit and daydream about you. You make me feel so innocent again, despite everything I'd gone through.

4. I love how you friend-zone me like heck.
As silly as it sounds, I really do. I like talking 'aku kau' with you, I like how you're talking with me like how boys would talk to each other. It just makes the rare moments where you show me affection all the more worth treasuring.

5. I love how nerdy you are.
The first time I saw you in a long time, back at Yio Chu Kang station, you were looking so lost and blur as heck, and I thought you were really cute. I like how you're shy around people, how you're awkward with me. I love the stoic face you always have on, the way you walk, and especially the way you talk about the things you like. And to top it off, I love how you're interested in the things you're interested in. Haha.

6. I love how honest and real you are.
Sure most of the time you're shy as heck, but when you do talk, you're always honest and you always mean what you say. You aren't afraid to admit your views on certain things. You don't give in to me, you make sure I know exactly how you think of me, even if it hurts. It's way better than all those other guys who try to 'angkat' me and shit.

7. The fact that there's still a lot to learn about you.
It's been about a year and a half since I met you, but I still don't know anything about you. I wish I could be closer to you, know everything about you. I wish I know how you are when you're really out of your comfort zone. I'm really jealous of your best friend because he knows way more about you than I do, UGH.

I keep daydreaming about you, even when I know you'd never like me back. I really meant it when I said I've no intentions of making you my boyfriend, but it'd be really nice to hang out with you more often. It'd be nice to treat you like a prince and a faggot at the same time. You're probably the only guy I could ever treat that way, hehe.

Gosh, I just... I have so many things to talk to you about, so many things I'd like to do with you. Remember when you said you had a chance with a girl back in the past, but that you wasted it? Well... I hope you can take it as a lesson that the next time a girl comes along again, you'd appreciate her like how you hadn't appreciated the one before.

Just like how I learnt a lot in my past relationship, and that I'd changed based on his words. But instead of using my new strength on him, I'd rather invest my energy on someone new. Focus on the future, not the past, you know?

I just wish you'd notice me I guess. Do you know you're the reason why I've been so focused in class? Okay, so I daydream about you in the middle of a boring lecture, but the thought of you is what makes me get back on track, thinking about how smart you are. You're my inspiration to be smart, as crazy as it sounds D:

And you look a mixture of hot and cute in those glasses. Not every guy can pull off that look *.*

I just feel reborn again thanks to you. You give me this crazy amount of energy which I've never had before as a loner. I just... Aaahhhh *covers my blushing face in disbelief* now I'm swooning over you. I need to stop.

GO FUCK YOURSELF

Before I get to it, here's the root of the problem; why I'm so pissed off at the time I am writing this.

Ever since I started school again, I'd been sleeping in my parents room. So we have an extension plug in the living room which I bring into the room every night so my dad and I can both charge our phones and use my bedroom fan at the same time, because we don't have enough sockets in the room.

On Monday morning, as usual I didn't put it back outside because dude I was rushing for school? You just had to make a big deal out of it, like it's gonna take so much effort to bring it back outside to the living room yourself.

The faggot snapped on family Whatsapp, to which Dad said it was him, and that he was sorry. That just pissed the fuck out of me, why should he say sorry? He didn't do anything wrong, it's just a goddamn extension plug which you can bring out yourself. And he ain't your servant to have to say sorry for not doing what you asked.

So I retaliated by pointing out how you sometimes don't put things back to their original spots too. Take note that I'd said it so calmly with no sign of malice. I was just stating facts, and I also added how you'd always turn on the fan and television outside, only to go back into your room 5 minutes later, leaving everything on outside. Just a reminder for you too, like how you'd reminded me to put back the extension plug.

Not my fault you couldn't accept my goddamn suggestion??? Right after I said this, the faggot said, roughly translated; "Eh don't be so extra, so kpo for what. Jangan balik ah gi berambus." Like dude? 1. I'm not being extra, you're obviously talking to me about the goddamn extension plug. 2. No need to say that second line, it's so unneeded, like I didn't say anything like that to you.

I know you fucking hate me, and I know I'm not part of the family anymore ever since I got kicked out years ago. I totally don't need you to rub it in my face. I don't need ignorant fucks to be acting all smart and telling me something I already know.

Getting straight to the points about the tweets things.

1. You're both getting riled up over the word 'stupid'. That's pretty much it. I never said anything else, nothing more offensive than that. And I'm not literally saying your girlfriend is stupid; I wanna go into an English lesson on my usage of the word 'stupid' here, but you'd be too slow to catch what I mean.

2. You should know by now that I hate your girlfriends on status, not by person. Whoever your girlfriend is at the moment, I'll always hate her whether or not she's nice. And it's been that way since your first one. And I don't care if you think it's immature or whatever because I know it is.

3. Your ex girlfriend was nice to me, and she's honest and real with me, that's why I really liked her. It's not that she got closer to me to use me or whatever. I just finally agreed to be her friend when she wasn't with you anymore. Because see point 2 you faggot.

4. I don't want your 'attention and love', I just hate your attitude/behaviour.

5. What's that you said bro? You thought that I'd 'change' now that I'd returned to you guys? What the hell do you even know about me? Whether or not I changed, trust me you wouldn't know. You never knew me in 2013, you never knew me in 2012, you never knew me in any of the years before I left. You stopped getting to know me about 10 years ago now.

6. God knows why you hate me, no matter what I do. God knows why you even stopped talking to me. I still remember that one time during your parent-teacher meeting, when you were carrying our little brother and happily talking to him and shit, but when I tried to join in you wouldn't let me. You snapped at me, "Sana lah, sibuk je!" just because I stood next to you. Idk why but I've always remembered that. And even then, I didn't know why you were such a dick to me.

7. I've always tried to be nice to you. I've always let go of the fact that you're an asshole to me for who-knows-what reason. I hate you a lot now because I gave up on that. Because no matter what I do, you're still a dickhead to me.

8. I give you my love and you don't react. I send you a little bit of my hate and you retaliate like shit. Like fuck you bro.

9. I ain't the only one who thinks you're not treating your family right. I don't give a shit about the fact that you don't regard me as your family. I don't want to fucking care, but I have to because you ain't treating them right at all. Sure, you give them money from your salary, but days later you're asking them for more money for 'allowance'. Like whut?

You spend your money on your own things, and on your girlfriend. And honestly, Dad's the one who's been talking to me about you, regarding this. You had some vouchers shit which you kept to yourself and didn't share with them, some shit like that.

And really, I highly doubt family is your priority at all, whether or not I'm in the picture. You don't make time for them, be it shopping or grocery shopping, or whatever. If anything, the family puts you as priority while you take their presence lightly. I can see you stepping all over their heads all the damn time, and it just fuels my hate for you.

You throw a tantrum when Mom is too tired to fry you your goddamn hashbrowns or nuggets. You sulk about how you're only eating bread all the time when Dad is too tired to cook goddamn maggi for you. That's right, you don't even know how to make your own meals. McDonald's kat bawah je, susah sangat nak pergi beli sendiri.

You can't wait to fuck off and start your new family? Don't hold it against me, but you have my fullest support for that. I can't wait for you to suffer independently, considering the fact that you can't even do shit for yourself right now at age 23.

Maybe I know why you hate me now. It's because you can't accept facts. You hate how there's someone who dares to stand up against you, and that it's your fucking little sister.

"Sorry aku popular and kau tak, sampai kau kene dengki dengan hidup aku."
That line just blew my mind. Who the fuck wants to be popular like you? Sure, I want people to know my blog because it's just a step for me to be known for my writing. I want to be a writer, and I'm starting with this blog. But I don't want to be 'famous' for hypocritical tweets like you.

And who the fuck tengah dengki dengan hidup kau? Definitely not me. I don't even give a shit about your life. God knows who the fuck possessed me to bother making you that card for your girlfriend on your monthsary, UGH. A rare time I'd made effort to make you happy, when you've never done that for me. [and you even took all the credit]

I'm fine as who I am bro. You should know from last time about how unpopular and nerdy I am. I'm worlds apart from you and maybe that's another reason why we don't get along. I don't fucking care about the fact that you're popular, I'm mad only because your popularity is feeding on your non-existent love for the family.

Your world revolves around you and your girlfriend, and that's it. I swear to God that's how you see things.

I don't know shit about you really, because I stopped knowing you since like a decade ago. But that's what I can fucking see, and I fucking hate you for that.

If anything, you're the one who's envious of me for having a non-existent and peaceful social life. I don't have many friends in poly, and I know not many people notice/like me. But I'm fine like that. I don't give a single shit. At least I know my family's feelings for me are real. At least I've been through shit which taught me to stand up on my own two feet, unlike you.

And the house was peaceful last time because you never made the effort to talk to our parents and little brother. You think they like it when the house is quiet as fuck? You think Mom is happy when both her sons are always too lazy/busy to go out with her? And I've heard of the way you tried to buat kelakar with our little brother. You sounded like a nenek talking to a teenager, I just had to laugh.

With all this said, I highly doubt you'd understand a word of what I just said. Judging from your chronic Malay typing, I don't think you'd be able to read this whole blog post really. And that's just gonna frustrate you more, I know, and it's also just gonna make you retaliate more. That's pretty funny actually.

Freeloading at my best friend's flea market

My best friend had her very first flea market yesterday! Me being the most helpful best friend in existence, I was the one who helped her bring her stuff from Tampines all the way to Lot One at Choa Chu Kang.

And me being the most slackiest and freest best friend in the clique, I decided to stay there the whole day, because I had time to kill, like I always do. No regrets in this decision though!

We had a few genius moments, like realising that she didn't bring plastic bags for the customers. I'm not sure why Cold Storage didn't sell any, and I even asked my Heroines if any of them could come and provide us with some T_T

Problem solved by asking the neighbour at the booth next to us though. Siying offered to pay for the 10 plastic bags she received, but the woman wouldn't hear of it. Such generosity.

I ran up and down the whole shopping mall a lot! First to get Siying a marker and masking tape, for her to write her signs and stuff. Then to get her iced coffee. Then to look for plastic bags, then to buy myself some chicken chop :3

I swear that chicken chop was the best, it basically felt like 2 meals in one, because there was rice, corn, telur mata lembu, and the wonderful chicken chop itself. A meal fit for a princess!

And then I made two more trips down for iced milo. Best milo ever too. Expensive as hell though, because two bucks.

So you should be able to see by now how I'd been freeloading all morning. All day too actually. I've always been bad at customers, no joke. And the social problems and lack of confidence don't help either. Siying did all the talking.

We also did our own chatting, because it always feels like such a long time since we last spoke. The whole time we chatted, our chairs were back-to-back with that of the boy at the booth next to us. I can't possibly imagine how he'd react to our conversations if he'd been eavesdropping. Listening to a pair of girl best friends talk is always a scary thing xD

We had free cotton candy, or candy floss, whatever. Feels like that part of my childhood has been gone for a century, because I forgot how it tasted. I forgot how the substance melts immediately in your mouth, and how its sweetness spreads all across your tongue, and disappears right after. Gosh.

The Mercy Relief volunteers were going around selling fruit punch for 50cents a cup, but they weren't coming to us when we really wanted a drink. It was only when there were two cups left did we get desperate. Tried to get their attention, for the sake of the fruit punch xD

That fruit punch tasted exactly like how it would at a Malay wedding, as silly as it sounds. It made me think of the times when my cousins and I would be running around in our baju kurungs, and only come back to the house to get a taste of the fruit punch.

There was a Malay family at one of the other booths, and they just further fueled my nostalgia. I don't know about you guys but Malay families are probably one of the most supportive ever. If you have an event that doesn't happen everyday, you bet that everyone would be there on that day. Right?

It was fun as heck, watching Siying lower the prices as the day went by, getting ignored by customers, watching other booths. Oh, and I like the part where we were gossiping about pinoys, and along came a pair to buy stuff, to which they said: "I see your face so nice, so I come here!" ohmaigosh, I couldn't help laughing when she said that.

All in all, I had a lot of fun. Sure, I may have gotten sleepy or bored, but it was better than rotting at home, maybe even better than my usual routine of riding the roads.



And here's a super random 'vlog', made out of the footage I recorded out of boredom.

The brightest star in the sky

There's always been something about him. Sure, at the beginning there weren't any feelings, but I still thought he was amazing.

I hadn't seen or talked to him for a long time, not til a few weeks ago when I was exploring Woodlands with a fellow Heroine. We'd gotten stuck in the rain, so we played 20 questions at a void deck while waiting for it to stop.

One of my friend's questions for me was, "Who's the most handsome guy you've ever met?" And I wasn't sure why at the time, but the first name, the first face, that popped up was his.

So I answered truthfully, and I elaborated that he's not only good-looking, but his character also contributed to him being 'the most handsome guy I've ever met'. Afterwards I couldn't help confiding in my friend about him, the parts of my life in which he had contributed greatly.

I only had the balls to strike a conversation with him some time later. It went okay I guess, just asked how was he and stuff. We used to talk about all kinds of random things, but I felt kind of awkward when talking to him again after a long time.

The first time I saw him after that was when I went over to his school, where my secondary school girlfriend was having her performance. I'd gone there on Wednesday and Thursday, and while I hadn't seen him on Wednesday, I totally was not expecting to see him the day after.

But guess what, I exited the train station and the first thing I saw was him.

We'd both walked out of the sheltered walkway, where crowds of other students were walking in. I don't know what kind of crazy coincidence that was.

I straightway walked back into the crowd and looked at my phone, pretending I hadn't seen him. I thought I'd say hi but I had a strong feeling he wouldn't respond.

Right after I was sure he'd walked past me, I couldn't help smiling to myself. I thought he was so cute. The whole route from the station to the entrance of his school, I was trying so hard not to grin like an idiot to myself. I really didn't think I'd be so happy just to see him.

He texted me later on, telling me he'd seen me, but that he wasn't sure if it was me. He couldn't recognise me with my glasses, heheh. It was a rare occasion where he'd started a conversation with me, and one that went on throughout my entire time at his school.

I'd always wanted to visit him at work because he said it was okay, but I never had the balls. I too wanted to send him home after work but yep, no balls. Every time I asked him out, I had to hide it in a coat of a joking tone so he wouldn't think I was serious. He always said no anyway.

Then Monday happened. For the first time in forever~, when I told him I was at his school, he'd asked me where I was, and that I could come to the library where he was at.

Gosh, I got so nervously excited, I just... Aaah. When I saw him, I just lost all my balls and couldn't remember anything which I'd wanted to ask him/talk to him about. My knees were shaking and I couldn't help stuttering a bit here and there. How embarrassing.

And then I got a chance to go home with him. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world at that moment, I swear. What is the statistical probability of being able to go home with someone you like? Gosh.

The trains were crowded so we decided to sit on the station waiting for the peak hour to pass. I had so much to ask him, though I don't think I'd managed to ask anything...

I'd known for a fact that he's shy around girls, or maybe just people in general. I remember a long time ago he'd said so, and that he gets nervous and anxious, even when he was with me. But he seemed fine on Monday, he didn't seem afraid to be himself, and I was secretly proud of him for that.

He showed me the memes and the gifs he'd laughed at, he showed me and gushed over his new favourite animal, he talked to me about the randomest things.

At one point of our chat, he said, "My throat is starting to hurt. I haven't been talking a lot because I'm not used to it."

It made me sad to hear that. Call it overthinking or exaggerating or whatever, but it made me feel like he'd cooped up his thoughts for so long. I don't know... It just broke my heart a little to know that he hadn't been talking to anyone else like he did to me.

As always, he refused to go for a movie with me, even after lots of my persuasion. He introduced me this game on his phone, some tap-tap-tapping on the black tiles, no touching the white ones.

It was hard as heck for me, until he said "If you can beat any of my high scores, I'll watch a movie with you." That was such good motivation for me, gosh. I found myself tapping faster and shit, hahaha!

Each time I lost, I'd scream of frustration, and he'd hiss and laugh, "Shut up lah!" But gosh. I love it when he laughs. The crinkles by his eyes and the fang at the side of his mouth.

We tapped out of the train station again to get a drink and sat by the sheltered walkway to chat some more. Because it hurt me to see him not knowing how amazing he is, I admitted how I'd long thought he's the most handsome person I'd ever met, outside and inside.

We finally got on a train around 8, when it was emptier than before. I loved the way he moved his head to follow the blue lights, and the expression of amazement in his eyes, gosh. That was the millionth time I'd melted that day.

I had to constantly remind myself that we were standing in front of the window, and that he could see in our reflections how I was gazing at him. I couldn't help it.

I was so thankful I hadn't gone back to Paya Lebar, because I had an expressway bus from Woodlands to Pasir Ris. It gave me reason to be able to send him home at Marsiling, hehe.

The last time we walked there by Marsiling station, I was a mess, drunk on alcohol and emotion. I didn't want to mention that night because I only wanted him to know that I'm a strong person who doesn't need to rely on anything, who doesn't cry about someone who gave up on her. I really wanted to show him that I'd changed since our last meeting.

But he asked, "What did you do here after I left you that night?"

"...I sat there crying my eyes out, and tweeting like crazy about how you left me there." I answered truthfully. And then I laughed. Because that time, although just 4 months ago, is a lifetime ago and it doesn't bother me anymore.

He went on about how heavy I was, and I started to feel a little relieved that that night seems like just a joke now.

The only thing about that night that I'll always remember is how pretty I realised his eyes are.

Our conversations went back to being random as we crossed the traffic lights and walked the big field in front of his house area.

I got so scared when we saw a frog, and he pretended to pick it up just to freak me out, ugh. And then he pretended he wanted to hold my hand when we passed a couple, just to imitate them, but laughed when I reached out for his hand seriously, UGH.

But that's just what I like about him. The way he annoys me all the time. As much as it really irritates me, I like how he's all like, "Hey! That's your 'I'm a faggot!' face!" whenever I sulked, in reference to a November memory.

At the lobby of his lift, we had a little silence. I really didn't want to say goodbye.

We did more silly handshakes, probably the only time I could ever make contact with his hand. And that was it. The lift door closed, and I was alone again.

But boy was I euphoric. I met and told a cat about how happy I was. I skipped my way through the field. I was smiling so much til my cheeks hurt. I was tired as hell, but it was worth it.

It'd be nice to be a little closer to him, honestly. I never had intentions to make him my boyfriend or anything. I don't really want us to fall in love and shit, but it'd be nice to, well, get to know him better.

I swear some quotes on Twitter do make a lot of sense. "There's a difference between liking someone for who they really are, and liking someone only for the attention they give you."

I think I'm one of the lucky few to know this difference.

You've no idea how amazing he is. He doesn't see himself the way I do, but I enjoy his presence, I appreciate his thoughts, and I admire his stand. I like how he's invisible to others, because it made me feel like that way I could have him all to myself.

I'd always wanted to know how it was like to be in his shoes. He talked to me about his personal life sometimes, but still I wonder how his life is really like. He's probably gone through a lot, but he seems way stronger than me.

It'd be nice to know his thoughts too. How his brain really works, considering his obsession with all things Science. His liking for the internet. His forever aloneliness.

I really do like him the way he is, whether or not he likes me back.

It's really okay. He's a little flower, perfectly fine as he is, left unpicked. When you see a flower, you don't pick it, you leave it as it is because love is about appreciation, not possession. All you have to do is water it regularly, if someone else already haven't.

Besides, he's just wonderful on his own. I feel like I shouldn't taint his perfection by being with him. That's why I'm just fine admiring him from afar. That laugh of his, and those eyes.

His existence has left quite an impact on my recent life. I don't know how to explain this, other than that it's the thought of him that motivates me to study hard, to walk with pride, to not give a shit about any negativity. It's the thought of him that pulls me through the day.

Strangled by a spider the size of my face

After two weeks of school, my dreams have been relatively 'normal'.

Okay, there was one where Johore Bahru was all dead and abandoned because it got bombed, and another where we were escaping a giant tornado on a ship, where the people around me were all soulless. And another where I was driving on the wrong side of the expressway, a la Heavy Rain.

Honestly, this is considered early for me to be up on a weekend. But that's because I'd woken up from one hell of a dream. I can still feel it all over my face.

It starts out with a narrative; a voice is saying, "I was forced to do homework, because this teacher had a reputation for giving us assignments that would fill to the brim of the cup."

The person I am in the dream [pretty sure it isn't myself] graduated from high school and moved out, and the dream fast forwarded to years later, or maybe I just forgot what happened in between.

I'm back at the house I was in at the beginning, and this time, a little boy is in my place. By the desk, slumped over with a pen in hand and papers beneath his cheek. Exactly my position at the start of the dream.

A spider sits beside him. Just the normal house spiders you'd see, the ones with super thin legs that look literally just like lines. You know? Except this spider is the size of your face. And it's talking.

It looks like it's  manipulating the little boy, who is apparently my little brother in the dream. The narrator says again, "She watched him take her place, watched in horror because she knows how [insert a teacher's name which I didn't get] had a reputation for giving assignments that filled to the brim of the cup."

The spider is babbling some motivational shit to the boy, but when he remains slumped, it brings him over to me. The boy follows, and I can see how tired and dead his face is.

Before I can question what it intends to do, the spider throws itself onto my face. I try to scream, but it wraps half its legs across my throat. I reach for its body, trying to pull it off my face, but the harder I pull, the more it strangles me. There's also a burning sensation on my hand whenever I make contact with its body.

As if that isn't disgusting enough, the spider says to the boy: "You have to be able to do this in order to study...." it has a draggy, raspy voice, gosh. And it wraps more legs around the back of my head, and inserts them into my ear.

I'm really struggling to get it off at this point, but I can't bear how it's strangling me. The front of my neck has always been my most sensitive spot; could never sit properly during a haircut because I was always tugging the drape away from my neck.

The spider's legs are all over me by now; strangling me, cleaning out my ears, and it's even saying, "You have to insert from here, and go through, and come out from the other ear....." I can't scream, but my heart's beating fast while I shake my head violently.

One more shake of my head, and BAM. I woke up. And I could still feel the tingling on the side of my face and in my ear, and around my neck.

I swear I've not been thinking of spiders, what the hell. Maybe it's because you guys have been so obsessed with The Amazing Spider-Man 2, ugh. Thanks a lot guys.

Life lessons from video games

The other day, my good friend from Heroine and I were talking about video games. How he couldn't decide between taking the bus or MRT home, and that he'd better make his choice before the buttons fade from the screen.

In a way, it was as if it's saying that you should learn how to make decisions for yourself, and not let others decide your path in life. We all know how sad Eevees are; sure, it's cool how they can evolve into lots of different Eeveelutions, but does it really decide for itself? Nope, its trainer does.

My friend and I came to the conclusion that Heavy Rain is probably the most inspirational game ever. If you've never seen Pewdie play it, it's a game whereby you get to play as 4 characters, and the story changes by the decisions you make and if a character dies.

In the Walking Dead game, some decisions are very important to make too, because such a tiny choice made can leave a huge impact on the game.

But in Heavy Rain, and sometimes in other games too, it ain't just about decisions. It's about actions too. If you don't hit the right buttons on time, or swipe here properly, to dodge the enemy and shit, then your character dies, BAM! the story changes.

Sure, you may make the right decisions half the time but what good are they if you don't take the proper step to fulfilling them?

Just a short post, because my next class is starting soon. I've been listening and paying attention, and doing my work, aren't you so proud of me! I just hope this attitude is maintained through out the semester. I ain't got no faggot to be dumped by this time anyway.

Your classmate as an umbilical cord???

Thank you to the boys of his 2013 class, for welcoming me at your school and letting me play soccer with you. To Farhan for making me giggle whenever he bullied the other guys, to Yazid for messaging me asking if I was okay when he saw my tweets, for treating me to Chicken Rice Shop.

Thank you Dina for giving me a nickname the day we first met, which no other people has ever called me before. I'm also sorry for not making it on time to watch your dance performance that night.
Thank you Diyanah for having such a nice and contagious smile, for giving me tweets of encouragement when I was on the slow road of repentance.

Thank you Naqib for your lame jokes which still never failed to make me laugh. For sending me home after I'd gotten freaked out with a horror movie, for telling me that "If it's really your passion, you wouldn't care who reads your blog or not."

Thank you Merlissa for giving me so much advice over the course of our meeting, though I've always been too stubborn to heed. For taking me under your wing the very first day we met, for trusting me enough to confide in me about your own life. For coming down to Woodlands Waterfront and listening to my drunk talk and watching me cry, for being the first person I'd talk to when I have a problem with him. ["Thank you for the smiles of 2013", http://109blackaxesii.blogspot.com/2014/01/thank-you-for-smiles-of-2013.html]

This was written on New Year's Eve, before 2014 started, because in 2013 I'd met these amazing people whom I wanted to thank, for having made me smile and laugh. I'm not sure if they ever read it, but yep.

I didn't have my own tertiary friends, not any that were as close as these people were to the faggot ex. I was jealous of him, but also thankful that he bothered to let me meet them. In fact, when we broke up early 2014, his friends were the first ones there for me. 

Mel watched me cry as always, lectured me and listened to my stubborn and rubbish replies. Invited me to her place, watched Hell's Kitchen or something with me and made me noodles.

Qib came over to Woodlands, made sure I didn't drink anymore, bought me Burger King and listened to my rubbish as well. He even brought me home all the way to Pasir Ris, even though he lived in Yishun.

Zid brought me out for a walk around Pasir Ris, gave me advice and his own opinions about moving on. Diyanah was on my ask.fm, giving me long encouraging paragraphs, reminding me of how much stronger I could be.

It's been a year since I met them all. 26th April 2013 to be exact, if that's the right date. I just remember it's the second Friday of my semester 1, which started on the 15th last April.

I came over for a visit yesterday, after such a long time of not doing so. I used to come over all the time, said hi to everyone, and although I was quiet because I was shy, I always just... embraced being with them. 

I'm still feeling pretty sad at the reactions I got. I looked at one of them, wanting to smile but she looked at me, frowned and glanced off like "Shit, I made eye contact." I've never really talked to her one on one before, but she always seemed nice. It hurt me, really. 

And then Qib was glaring at me, literally. The day he came over to Woodlands was the last time I saw him. I never talked to him after that, except some time ago I texted him asking how was he and that I'd missed him, because we hadn't talked for a while.

He didn't reply that, and just a few days ago I realised he unfollowed me on Twitter. Being unfollowed by a close friend is always a big deal...  I don't understand why he'd avoid/ignore me, because I really don't recall doing anything wrong to him.

I think I came on the wrong day. Or maybe I shouldn't have come at all. I felt so unwelcome. Farhan's answers came out forced when I was asking him how was he, and Mel seemed quite unhappy that I wanted to see her just to say I missed her, because I really did. 

I don't quite understand. Does breaking up with your classmate means I'm no longer friends with you...? I hate being friends with someone only with an umbilical cord, as I call it. Does cutting off the link means you aren't allowed to even say hi to me or something?

I didn't have the balls to give them the brownies after that. I ended up throwing them away, because they turned out bad anyway.

It isn't the first time I've loved a group of friends, only to be given reasons why I shouldn't. There was 5/1 2012, and then there was my semester 1 classmates. "Love for friends" have probably been long crossed off the list of things to love. Friends aren't there forever either.

Or maybe they never saw me as a friend. Maybe I was just "my friend's girlfriend", and just "my friend's ex" now. That's it, nothing more. I actually cried on the way home thinking about it, haha, but it's okay. I gotta deal with it and catch up on life.