Remember when I said that I'm glad to have met 'Aamir, one of the reasons being because my relationship with him brought me other amazing friendships?
There was Merlissa, there was Naqib, there was Yazid; in fact mostly from his current tertiary class. I've never really felt good about his secondary school classmates, because 1. they're all probably judging me, idk 2. his ex is from this group of friends.
But there's one person from his secondary school life that I've always been fond of. Yes, it's none other than Luke. My hypocrite.
So I'm sure you've heard about what happened between him, 'Aamir, and I. It was my friendship with Luke that broke my relationship with 'Aamir for a while back early this month. Afterwards, 'Aamir kept accusing me of having feelings for his best friend. I got tired of denying it so eventually he stopped accusing me of it too, which is a relief. Everything is fine right now.
I've stayed away from Luke though. Honestly, he was a great person to talk to. This I can't deny. This I've told 'Aamir, because it's the truth. Although no, I don't have feelings for him like how I like 'Aamir. In fact right now, I hate him. He was the first to wish me happy birthday, and I fucking hate that. That's why I was so angry. And also, because he is a faggot. A hypocritical faggot.
Just last week I think, I was looking through 'Aamir's phone when I saw his conversation with Luke. It wasn't like this exactly, but it went somewhere along the lines of "At least now I'm free and I don't have to waste my time entertaining that girl." You have no idea how much this one line hurts me. Let me now tell you why.
The first time he and I talked was in February, but that one was insignificant. I was asking him about what 'Aamir likes, shit like that. And then in April, two days before my first day of tertiary, I talked to him again. We talked about 'Aamir, yup. And then we started talking about humans.
Luke has this passion for Science. Never have I met someone who loves Science so much, but yup, if you haven't either, there's Luke. He's always talking to me about the human mind or the human body, or about religion. Anything he so deemed. I always listened, and I guess he got more and more open with me. He said, "I like talking to you. Because you don't judge me when I talk to you about what I like."
I liked to talk to him too. I talked to him when I had problems with 'Aamir. I guess the fact that we didn't judge each other just fed our friendship, and that was how we grew so close. At least, I think we did. Sigh.
I was also guilty about the fact that I had stolen his one best friend from him. 'Aamir once told me that Luke and he were the last boys in their class who hadn't had their first kiss. And when Luke told me about how 'Aamir was the last person he thought would leave him like the rest of their friends did, he was so sad, and lonely. That's why I've always thought the three of us should be a happy family because why not? We got along fine. And I didn't want Luke to be left alone like that just because 'Aamir is with me.
When they had their bitchfight I did all I could to patch them up together, although secretly I was happy because that means I had more time with 'Aamir. But I didn't like Luke being alone. I tried to get them to eat pizza with me, by asking them out individually but I guess it failed. Luke found out 'Aamir was there, or something like that? Whatever.
And then Luke was always telling me how he was so lonely. He has no girlfriend, and there weren't any girls in his classes. I felt bad for him about that too. And then he said he prefers Chinese girls, and then he saw Siying's picture, and then he said she was cute. So, I asked her if she would wanna go on a double date with him. She said sure and I was already excited.
Until I saw what he said to 'Aamir. How sad that makes me. I thought our friendship was real and that he really liked talking to me. He said he was lonely, and because I know what it's like to be, I just wanted to be there for him. Because I can't help feeling that I was the cause of his loneliness. Duh.
I'm a mix of anger and disappointment. I'm angry because he is a bitch, and an asshole, and a hypocrite, and a motherfucking faggot!
I'm disappointed because I really did care for him and I thought he did for me too. Guess I was wrong. Happy 17th birthday, faggot. I fucking hate you. I really do, and I hope you die a virgin.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Of men and women.
My cousin lent me this book some time ago; it's called "Princess: The True Story of Life Inside Saudi Arabia's Royal Family", and it's based on a true story. In fact, a note from the author and a letter from the protagonist states that it is a true story. This princess, which can only be named 'Sultana' for fear of being hunted down by certain authorities, befriended the author and told her to write about her story.
This book basically tells about how women are treated in Saudi Arabia, be it common or royal people. The book started with Sultana getting scolded by her mother because she had prayed to her brother instead of to God; it made Sultana wonder her whole life: "If my brother isn't a God, why is he treated like one?"
Sultana's family consists of nine elder sisters and one elder brother, two years older than her. Because he was the only son, he was treated like king by their father. He was spoilt rotten by their father even from a young age; when Sultana was given an apple, her brother demanded to have it. She, being a feisty kid with a mind of her own, put up a fight for her apple; but when their father came and asked what was the ruckus, he demanded that she gave her brother the apple.
In Saudi Arabia, men were considered "higher" than women; in other words, women were treated like slaves. Especially by men. The Qur'an did state that women were secondary to men; but the government liked to twist the words of the holy book, and they just decided that Oh, women are slaves for men.
It's a norm for women to be abused, physically or verbally or sexually especially, by their fathers, brothers, uncles, husbands, etc. A daughter would not be favoured, especially not by her father. If a girl received her first blood, she would automatically be deemed as a woman: she must be veiled by a dark abaaya, and she must hastily be wed off. Most of the time she is forced to marry old men double or triple their age, usually as the third or fourth wife.
The woman has no say in this by the way. Her father decides who she marries, and most of the time it's because of business connections, past or future.
It's so unfair to women; if the woman is found to not be a virgin on her wedding bed, she would immediately be sent back to her father and be punished appropriately. It's normal for her to be punished cruelly, even by death. The woman must be a virgin on her wedding night although it was okay for men to have sex with different women so many times prior to their wedding!
In terms of crime, if a man were to kill his wife, he would not be so quickly put to punishment. He would give a reason for doing what he did, and even though it was not valid, or was a lie to cover up his true guilt [for example saying that his wife had cheated on him although she had gotten raped by another man because her husband didn't take care of her safety properly], the men would applaud him for putting someone so shameless to death.
In another case, when Sultana was in hospital delivering her first baby, she had seen this other girl as young as her walking with chains tied to her legs and with bodyguards all around her. She learnt that this girl was to put to death because of adultery. Her name is Amal.
This was what happened: Amal's parents had gone to the Emirates for some business thing I think? Or some family thing. All that's left in their house were three servants, a driver, and her seventeen-year-old brother. The servants were sleeping and the driver was in his room. Her brother had taken the chance to entertain some of his friends; the music was blasting and because their party was beneath her bedroom, Amal was getting pretty irritated.
She came down, only in her thin nightgown, and knocked on the door, wanting to tell her brother to lower the music or something. She poked her head inside but she could not see her brother so she went inside to look for him. She immediately got pounced on by her brother's friends, and they all took turns to rape her. She passed out by the third boy.
Of course, this was not what the public believed. Her rapists had claimed that she was the one who came and seduced them, asking them for sex and shit. Just because the men had said it, it was immediately deemed to be the true side of the story. Since drugs and alcohol were involved in the party, Amal's brother was too afraid of the consequences of abusing these and he didn't step up to clear his sister's name.
Her father too, believed his son and asked for his daughter to be punished by death.
Well, reading the book made me so fortunate to be where I am, and to have who I have. 'Aamir had mentioned that a wife's responsibility is towards her husband once they are married, even though the husband's responsibility remains towards his mother.
I thought it was cool that one day I would have full responsibility for 'Aamir [hehe] , but after reading this book, hmm, not so cool after all. And the fact that Islam allows the man to have four wives; the prince may love me a lot right now but who knows if I don't wanna give birth and he wants children so he decides to marry another T.T I can't bear the thought of that!
Oh I've talked to him about this I think. Not to worry I guess, though, anything can happen. Why am I even talking about this? We're still young. Let's just have cheap meals at Burger King and laugh about silly things and judge other teenagers first. Because that's what our teenage years are for.
'Aamir wouldn't be abusive by the way. He's a gentle guy who doesn't smoke or drink, and who prays five times a day, so I'm really fortunate to have him instead of some matrep. Imagine if my boyfriend was a matrep. I don't mean to stereotype, but we'd probably be smoking a lot together and drinking and shit. Seems kind of cool but not when I have 'Aamir. Guys, I really am fortunate to have someone like him.
The only times 'Aamir has ever laid a finger on me was when he's holding my hand, or hugging me, or wrapping his arms around my waist when we kiss, or all the other joking couply things, like pinching or pushing me til I knock into a tree [and he would laugh after that], or squeezing my face and laughing at how stupid I'm looking. Yup. The list goes on. He's annoying that way, but he's not abusive.
The one time he hit me, though, was when he slapped me, hard across the cheek. My face flung to the side and I started bawling like a baby and wailing like a banshee. It was out of shock I suppose. I remember how my voice echoed. Of course, he immediately pulled me back into a hug and said "I'm sorry", with sincerity and guilt and love. Idk, I forgave him straightway but I wouldn't stop crying when I thought of the impact.
I'm not gonna tell you how it started, but I'd tell you that his slap was a retaliation. I had slapped him first, because I was so angry at him! I won't tell you why I was angry at him. Yup, this was back in April or May I think? That's also the last time I've ever been hit physically by anyone at all.
Yup. You don't know how lucky you are as a woman in Singapore. None of us do. Girls here be fooling around and kissing and cuddling when they're thirteen. Girls in other countries getting married at thirteen. You wanna have sex at thirteen? Why don't you marry a geezer while you're at it, yeah?
This book basically tells about how women are treated in Saudi Arabia, be it common or royal people. The book started with Sultana getting scolded by her mother because she had prayed to her brother instead of to God; it made Sultana wonder her whole life: "If my brother isn't a God, why is he treated like one?"
Sultana's family consists of nine elder sisters and one elder brother, two years older than her. Because he was the only son, he was treated like king by their father. He was spoilt rotten by their father even from a young age; when Sultana was given an apple, her brother demanded to have it. She, being a feisty kid with a mind of her own, put up a fight for her apple; but when their father came and asked what was the ruckus, he demanded that she gave her brother the apple.
In Saudi Arabia, men were considered "higher" than women; in other words, women were treated like slaves. Especially by men. The Qur'an did state that women were secondary to men; but the government liked to twist the words of the holy book, and they just decided that Oh, women are slaves for men.
It's a norm for women to be abused, physically or verbally or sexually especially, by their fathers, brothers, uncles, husbands, etc. A daughter would not be favoured, especially not by her father. If a girl received her first blood, she would automatically be deemed as a woman: she must be veiled by a dark abaaya, and she must hastily be wed off. Most of the time she is forced to marry old men double or triple their age, usually as the third or fourth wife.
The woman has no say in this by the way. Her father decides who she marries, and most of the time it's because of business connections, past or future.
It's so unfair to women; if the woman is found to not be a virgin on her wedding bed, she would immediately be sent back to her father and be punished appropriately. It's normal for her to be punished cruelly, even by death. The woman must be a virgin on her wedding night although it was okay for men to have sex with different women so many times prior to their wedding!
In terms of crime, if a man were to kill his wife, he would not be so quickly put to punishment. He would give a reason for doing what he did, and even though it was not valid, or was a lie to cover up his true guilt [for example saying that his wife had cheated on him although she had gotten raped by another man because her husband didn't take care of her safety properly], the men would applaud him for putting someone so shameless to death.
In another case, when Sultana was in hospital delivering her first baby, she had seen this other girl as young as her walking with chains tied to her legs and with bodyguards all around her. She learnt that this girl was to put to death because of adultery. Her name is Amal.
This was what happened: Amal's parents had gone to the Emirates for some business thing I think? Or some family thing. All that's left in their house were three servants, a driver, and her seventeen-year-old brother. The servants were sleeping and the driver was in his room. Her brother had taken the chance to entertain some of his friends; the music was blasting and because their party was beneath her bedroom, Amal was getting pretty irritated.
She came down, only in her thin nightgown, and knocked on the door, wanting to tell her brother to lower the music or something. She poked her head inside but she could not see her brother so she went inside to look for him. She immediately got pounced on by her brother's friends, and they all took turns to rape her. She passed out by the third boy.
Of course, this was not what the public believed. Her rapists had claimed that she was the one who came and seduced them, asking them for sex and shit. Just because the men had said it, it was immediately deemed to be the true side of the story. Since drugs and alcohol were involved in the party, Amal's brother was too afraid of the consequences of abusing these and he didn't step up to clear his sister's name.
Her father too, believed his son and asked for his daughter to be punished by death.
Well, reading the book made me so fortunate to be where I am, and to have who I have. 'Aamir had mentioned that a wife's responsibility is towards her husband once they are married, even though the husband's responsibility remains towards his mother.
I thought it was cool that one day I would have full responsibility for 'Aamir [hehe] , but after reading this book, hmm, not so cool after all. And the fact that Islam allows the man to have four wives; the prince may love me a lot right now but who knows if I don't wanna give birth and he wants children so he decides to marry another T.T I can't bear the thought of that!
Oh I've talked to him about this I think. Not to worry I guess, though, anything can happen. Why am I even talking about this? We're still young. Let's just have cheap meals at Burger King and laugh about silly things and judge other teenagers first. Because that's what our teenage years are for.
'Aamir wouldn't be abusive by the way. He's a gentle guy who doesn't smoke or drink, and who prays five times a day, so I'm really fortunate to have him instead of some matrep. Imagine if my boyfriend was a matrep. I don't mean to stereotype, but we'd probably be smoking a lot together and drinking and shit. Seems kind of cool but not when I have 'Aamir. Guys, I really am fortunate to have someone like him.
The only times 'Aamir has ever laid a finger on me was when he's holding my hand, or hugging me, or wrapping his arms around my waist when we kiss, or all the other joking couply things, like pinching or pushing me til I knock into a tree [and he would laugh after that], or squeezing my face and laughing at how stupid I'm looking. Yup. The list goes on. He's annoying that way, but he's not abusive.
The one time he hit me, though, was when he slapped me, hard across the cheek. My face flung to the side and I started bawling like a baby and wailing like a banshee. It was out of shock I suppose. I remember how my voice echoed. Of course, he immediately pulled me back into a hug and said "I'm sorry", with sincerity and guilt and love. Idk, I forgave him straightway but I wouldn't stop crying when I thought of the impact.
I'm not gonna tell you how it started, but I'd tell you that his slap was a retaliation. I had slapped him first, because I was so angry at him! I won't tell you why I was angry at him. Yup, this was back in April or May I think? That's also the last time I've ever been hit physically by anyone at all.
Yup. You don't know how lucky you are as a woman in Singapore. None of us do. Girls here be fooling around and kissing and cuddling when they're thirteen. Girls in other countries getting married at thirteen. You wanna have sex at thirteen? Why don't you marry a geezer while you're at it, yeah?
Saturday, September 28, 2013
What will your boyfriend think? RPG
Hey guys.
I had first day at work on Thursday. I had difficulties deciding what to wear because Shushan mentioned "formal/casual/idk" and her senior who talked to me on the phone mentioned "dress". Yup. I was fucked.
But I'm bold, so I just threw on my usual tshirt and cardigan, at least with black skinnies that are not too casual. I think? [idk what's the difference between casual and formal] And I was late. Hey don't look at me like that! It's my first time going to Giant from my current home okay?
I thought I was doing retail, but actually it's all paperwork!!! Don't get me wrong; the exclamation marks are out of excitement!!! I've never done an office job before. And thus far my tasks have been simple; just photocopying and filing and stapling, you know.
And the big empty desk that I have all to myself... Oh how I wish I could bring along all my books and stationery from home and customise this empty desk to my liking!!! How I miss having my own desk.
I've spent afterwork hours with Shushan for the last two days. I've always loved hotdogs, and I can't get enough of Ikea's. Damn. We tried on heels at Payless, and how I love the wedges with the laces and the collar shit! I want them! ...They're 49.90. *sniff* They really suit me though!
Well anyway, it's been 4 days since 'Aamir left for Bali. He's only been texting me at night, how saddening. It feels like he won't be coming here on this blog [although he has wifi in his hotel room] and I don't think he comes here unless I told him I blogged, so I'm gonna rant a bit right now. I hope the girls read this before he does.
Do me a favour and imagine.
Alright. You have a crush on someone. You like to look at his face because it's so handsome and pleasant and shit. Apparently it's been more than four months; you see the tweet that goes "Studies have proven that a crush can last only up to four months. If it's longer than that, you're in love." You retweet it in a quote, and you add; "This is for you. I hope you see this" because you do think you are in love.
And then you meet someone else. He's not only handsome, but he's also amazing and interesting and just... Different. You have a crush on him too. Oh, you're the kind that have a few crushes and eyecandies at once. Because no harm, right?
But surprise surprise!!!! This crush has a crush on you too. You two get together. You're so happy everyday and you like him more and more everyday, and he opens up to you more and more too.
Are you really over that other crush? Once upon a time you drew his name onto a blackboard with chalk, in beautiful fonts, and the picture you took of it is still your Whatsapp background image. Your new boyfriend sees it and asks you who is that? You say, an old crush, and you immediately remove it.
What do you think your boyfriend will think? The fact that you are already with him, and yet your wallpaper is of some other guy. It may be just a name, but that name will be forever stuck in his head.
You talk to your new guy about this past crush, telling him how you treated him like a prince but he never once wanted you. And then, one day, this past crush of yours suddenly post a picture on Instagram; the picture of his name; the name which you drew. Again, you talk to your new boyfriend about it, and you can't help feeling excited. Why are you even excited??? Are your feelings for him really gone?
What do you think your boyfriend will think? The fact that the picture was from a long time ago, but your previous crush posted it now? Is he like trying to hint on something? It's never a nice feeling to know if your current girlfriend's ex crush is starting to notice her right? You'd think she could go back to him, or spark the flame for him, anytime.
You and your current boyfriend still get along though. Until your ex crush created a Twitter account... He never had one. And you immediately follow him and immediately tweeted to him; "Waaaaah got Twitter already sey!" Additional info: you seldom tweet about other things. You seldom tweet about what's happening, and you are rarely on Twitter.
What do you think your boyfriend will think? The fact that you seldom tweet... And you seldom tweet to your boyfriend as well, but you tweet to other guys? Won't he feel ashamed, because he is always tweeting about what a wonderful person you are, yet you never say the same about him on social websites. Won't he feel sad if people look at this couple and think, hey, the girl doesn't seem really that interested in her own boyfriend.... It's nothing to do with ego. He just doesn't want other guys to think they've got a chance with his girl.
Well, one day, your boyfriend happened to be using your phone, and he's in your Instagram account. He sees that other guy on your timeline, and he goes into his profile and unfollows him. No, he wouldn't want you to be liking other guys' pictures won't he? Especially one whom you always said was handsome and had good looks. And is your old crush.
And then, another one day, he happened to go into your following list on Instagram, and he saw that you were following this old crush again.
What do you fucking think your boyfriend will think? The fact that you realised you weren't following your crush, means you actually went into his profile, maybe because you fucking WANT to look at his photos again! And, this old crush's Instagram account is private; the fact that you wanted him to accept your request, shows how much you really want to!
And you know what? Your old crush is a fucking popular kid on Instagram, always getting tens of likes on his selfies or whatever, and has so little following, but you happen to be on the list of people that he followed. And he fucking likes your selfies too! What do you think your boyfriend will feel???? He will think your fucking ex crush is trying to hit on you now, and if you're not gonna step up and show the world that you are fucking attached and have no intention of breaking up, your ex crush and other fucking idiotic guys are gonna try to hit on you, dammit!
I hope you know where I am going. It's been nearly 9 months since 'Aamir and I got together. It's also been 9 months since I first saw that name. I first saw that fucking name on the day after we got together. I can never get it out of my head. Even about a month into our relationship, he still dared to tell me that he still had feelings for her, even if a little bit BLAHBLAHBULLSHIT.
I also can't help thinking that he probably thinks she is prettier than me. No, actually, I think he does think so. And her face looks kinda like Nora Danish. I get it now. No wonder Nora Danish is his fucking celebrity crush. Yeah, with all these little things, you can gather them into something big and make more sense out of the pieces.
And the reason why I wrote this in a different perspective is just to let you imagine if you were in my fucking place right now.
I don't know her, but I don't like her, and I don't like you looking or talking to her, or mentioning her name, or following her on any website. No. Just no.
Done ranting. Let's now put a smile on my face and welcome the prince with hearts and stars and open arms when he gets back. :-) I love you so much baby :-)
I had first day at work on Thursday. I had difficulties deciding what to wear because Shushan mentioned "formal/casual/idk" and her senior who talked to me on the phone mentioned "dress". Yup. I was fucked.
But I'm bold, so I just threw on my usual tshirt and cardigan, at least with black skinnies that are not too casual. I think? [idk what's the difference between casual and formal] And I was late. Hey don't look at me like that! It's my first time going to Giant from my current home okay?
I thought I was doing retail, but actually it's all paperwork!!! Don't get me wrong; the exclamation marks are out of excitement!!! I've never done an office job before. And thus far my tasks have been simple; just photocopying and filing and stapling, you know.
And the big empty desk that I have all to myself... Oh how I wish I could bring along all my books and stationery from home and customise this empty desk to my liking!!! How I miss having my own desk.
I've spent afterwork hours with Shushan for the last two days. I've always loved hotdogs, and I can't get enough of Ikea's. Damn. We tried on heels at Payless, and how I love the wedges with the laces and the collar shit! I want them! ...They're 49.90. *sniff* They really suit me though!
Well anyway, it's been 4 days since 'Aamir left for Bali. He's only been texting me at night, how saddening. It feels like he won't be coming here on this blog [although he has wifi in his hotel room] and I don't think he comes here unless I told him I blogged, so I'm gonna rant a bit right now. I hope the girls read this before he does.
Do me a favour and imagine.
Alright. You have a crush on someone. You like to look at his face because it's so handsome and pleasant and shit. Apparently it's been more than four months; you see the tweet that goes "Studies have proven that a crush can last only up to four months. If it's longer than that, you're in love." You retweet it in a quote, and you add; "This is for you. I hope you see this" because you do think you are in love.
And then you meet someone else. He's not only handsome, but he's also amazing and interesting and just... Different. You have a crush on him too. Oh, you're the kind that have a few crushes and eyecandies at once. Because no harm, right?
But surprise surprise!!!! This crush has a crush on you too. You two get together. You're so happy everyday and you like him more and more everyday, and he opens up to you more and more too.
Are you really over that other crush? Once upon a time you drew his name onto a blackboard with chalk, in beautiful fonts, and the picture you took of it is still your Whatsapp background image. Your new boyfriend sees it and asks you who is that? You say, an old crush, and you immediately remove it.
What do you think your boyfriend will think? The fact that you are already with him, and yet your wallpaper is of some other guy. It may be just a name, but that name will be forever stuck in his head.
You talk to your new guy about this past crush, telling him how you treated him like a prince but he never once wanted you. And then, one day, this past crush of yours suddenly post a picture on Instagram; the picture of his name; the name which you drew. Again, you talk to your new boyfriend about it, and you can't help feeling excited. Why are you even excited??? Are your feelings for him really gone?
What do you think your boyfriend will think? The fact that the picture was from a long time ago, but your previous crush posted it now? Is he like trying to hint on something? It's never a nice feeling to know if your current girlfriend's ex crush is starting to notice her right? You'd think she could go back to him, or spark the flame for him, anytime.
You and your current boyfriend still get along though. Until your ex crush created a Twitter account... He never had one. And you immediately follow him and immediately tweeted to him; "Waaaaah got Twitter already sey!" Additional info: you seldom tweet about other things. You seldom tweet about what's happening, and you are rarely on Twitter.
What do you think your boyfriend will think? The fact that you seldom tweet... And you seldom tweet to your boyfriend as well, but you tweet to other guys? Won't he feel ashamed, because he is always tweeting about what a wonderful person you are, yet you never say the same about him on social websites. Won't he feel sad if people look at this couple and think, hey, the girl doesn't seem really that interested in her own boyfriend.... It's nothing to do with ego. He just doesn't want other guys to think they've got a chance with his girl.
Well, one day, your boyfriend happened to be using your phone, and he's in your Instagram account. He sees that other guy on your timeline, and he goes into his profile and unfollows him. No, he wouldn't want you to be liking other guys' pictures won't he? Especially one whom you always said was handsome and had good looks. And is your old crush.
And then, another one day, he happened to go into your following list on Instagram, and he saw that you were following this old crush again.
What do you fucking think your boyfriend will think? The fact that you realised you weren't following your crush, means you actually went into his profile, maybe because you fucking WANT to look at his photos again! And, this old crush's Instagram account is private; the fact that you wanted him to accept your request, shows how much you really want to!
And you know what? Your old crush is a fucking popular kid on Instagram, always getting tens of likes on his selfies or whatever, and has so little following, but you happen to be on the list of people that he followed. And he fucking likes your selfies too! What do you think your boyfriend will feel???? He will think your fucking ex crush is trying to hit on you now, and if you're not gonna step up and show the world that you are fucking attached and have no intention of breaking up, your ex crush and other fucking idiotic guys are gonna try to hit on you, dammit!
I hope you know where I am going. It's been nearly 9 months since 'Aamir and I got together. It's also been 9 months since I first saw that name. I first saw that fucking name on the day after we got together. I can never get it out of my head. Even about a month into our relationship, he still dared to tell me that he still had feelings for her, even if a little bit BLAHBLAHBULLSHIT.
I also can't help thinking that he probably thinks she is prettier than me. No, actually, I think he does think so. And her face looks kinda like Nora Danish. I get it now. No wonder Nora Danish is his fucking celebrity crush. Yeah, with all these little things, you can gather them into something big and make more sense out of the pieces.
And the reason why I wrote this in a different perspective is just to let you imagine if you were in my fucking place right now.
I don't know her, but I don't like her, and I don't like you looking or talking to her, or mentioning her name, or following her on any website. No. Just no.
Done ranting. Let's now put a smile on my face and welcome the prince with hearts and stars and open arms when he gets back. :-) I love you so much baby :-)
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Post pictures here??? NO.
I've just read The Perks Of Being A Wallflower, and Charlie seems like an absolute cutiepie. Oops! Wouldn't want the prince to get the wrong idea. It hasn't even been 12 hours since he left.
Am currently downloading the film through Express Files [which 'Aamir introduced me] [or more like installed into my laptop when I wasn't looking] It's my first time using it on my own, and it took an hour to download 2%. Is this normal??? And does it continue downloading if my laptop is on standy??? Someone tell me, please.
I've gotten a job. I got a call from Shushan this morning, asking me if I was interested in the vacancy at Guardian. Of course I said yes, bloody hell. And what's more it was just for two weeks, according to her. And... Are you ready for this? It's freaking 8 bucks per hour. 8 motherfucking bucks!!!
I'd better keep track of my finances properly this time. Maybe by the time school starts, I can pamper myself a little bit by getting a few top pieces that are out of my box. If you know what I mean. Maybe a batwing sheer top, like the one I'd tried on at Siying's house. Maybe more chiffon tops, or denim.
And speaking of which, I have a Carousell. I've done my research and I basically know all the latest trends among Singaporean teenaged girls right now. That's the problem. I know, but I don't do. Well I don't have to necessarily follow exactly what everyone's wearing. I could always add my own original touches to it.
So... When I have the money, In Sha Allah, I'm going on a retail escapade. Remember back in 2012 when I was always going on those solitary escapades to clear my loneliness? Well, this shall be the year of retail escapades to clear my low self-esteem.
I know I've said that I'm never going to post any pictures here. But maybe when the time comes, I might want to post some outfits on this blog... I know it's not me. But I have to get out of the box.
Let's face it: my writing isn't going anywhere. When I tweeted that I was gonna stop blogging, nobody said anything. It's nearly been a month; I've not gone this long without exposing my blog posts on people's timelines. It's obvious nobody cares about this blog, apart from Siying, 'Aamir, Nura, Pearl. Maybe because there are too many words? No pretty faces? Or maybe the way I write is boring? Idk.
It doesn't matter.
We'll see how it goes.
Goodnight.
Am currently downloading the film through Express Files [which 'Aamir introduced me] [or more like installed into my laptop when I wasn't looking] It's my first time using it on my own, and it took an hour to download 2%. Is this normal??? And does it continue downloading if my laptop is on standy??? Someone tell me, please.
I've gotten a job. I got a call from Shushan this morning, asking me if I was interested in the vacancy at Guardian. Of course I said yes, bloody hell. And what's more it was just for two weeks, according to her. And... Are you ready for this? It's freaking 8 bucks per hour. 8 motherfucking bucks!!!
I'd better keep track of my finances properly this time. Maybe by the time school starts, I can pamper myself a little bit by getting a few top pieces that are out of my box. If you know what I mean. Maybe a batwing sheer top, like the one I'd tried on at Siying's house. Maybe more chiffon tops, or denim.
And speaking of which, I have a Carousell. I've done my research and I basically know all the latest trends among Singaporean teenaged girls right now. That's the problem. I know, but I don't do. Well I don't have to necessarily follow exactly what everyone's wearing. I could always add my own original touches to it.
So... When I have the money, In Sha Allah, I'm going on a retail escapade. Remember back in 2012 when I was always going on those solitary escapades to clear my loneliness? Well, this shall be the year of retail escapades to clear my low self-esteem.
I know I've said that I'm never going to post any pictures here. But maybe when the time comes, I might want to post some outfits on this blog... I know it's not me. But I have to get out of the box.
Let's face it: my writing isn't going anywhere. When I tweeted that I was gonna stop blogging, nobody said anything. It's nearly been a month; I've not gone this long without exposing my blog posts on people's timelines. It's obvious nobody cares about this blog, apart from Siying, 'Aamir, Nura, Pearl. Maybe because there are too many words? No pretty faces? Or maybe the way I write is boring? Idk.
It doesn't matter.
We'll see how it goes.
Goodnight.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
I was a ninja, cyclist, hero, and a squirrel in just 3 days
Wake up in the morning not giving a single fuck.
No work no school, means no money.
Go look for job just trying out my luck.
But no. So fuck me.
So I headed to EW1 in the morning with the intention of taking my old clothes from the house. Siying introduced this app called Carousell, and I just had the idea of creating my own listings. [I need money anyway and it seems like Charles & Keith doesn't want me]
The last time I visited was somewhere in April or May, for all I remember. At that time my room was the way it was when I left; messy in the way I loved it, but with more dust and an empty wardrobe. Back on that day, when I'd returned from my class chalet, my dad had removed all the clothes from my wardrobe and threw them across my room [according to the sight that greeted me. Not that I saw him doing this].
Yesterday though, my room was a mix of old and new, clean and dirty, full and empty.
I used to leave it in a mess, because mess defines me but yesterday, it was all cleaned up. Even my desk. Everything was organised, furniture was shifted, and the mural on the wall above my bed had been painted over.
However, there were clothes all over my bed and all over the floor next to it. Looking closer I realised they weren't mine, but my parents', and my brothers'. What the hell! You have no idea how shocked I was. I really was. The hell is wrong with them!?
And not only that, but my clothes were not in sight. My closet, the one which I used to put my own clothes before, and the one which was empty I left, were filled with my mother's clothes. I couldn't find mine before I finally thought of the storeroom.
Well I rummaged through the shit in that Santa Claus bag as Siying called it, and took some of the clothes which I thought would sell. I did my research in the Looking For category on Carousell, and through my observation in current trends... So it was kind of easy shit.
Hauled over my finds to Elias Mac, where I sat with Siying and Pearl. We had a chat under the sun whilst sipping on milo and pinching my arm fats [Pearl].
We stopped by Whitesands afterwards, and we split at the station because Pearl had an errand. Siying and I? We headed to Pasir Ris Park for our photoshoot.
This spot is precious for many reasons. It was where we had water wars with the rest of the girls on birthdays, especially in 2010. It was where we did filming in 2011, oh man. Those days.
Alright so I had quite a few changes of clothes from my previous haul, which Siying helped to match and adjusted a bit here and there. And she was the fashion photographer too! I swear I can always trust her to be the photographer. I had so much fun!
Of course, I still stand for what I believe in. I'd love to show you the dozens of pictures she took, but again, this blog is mainly for words.
A hint though, I wore outfits which I would never wear on my own accord. Okay whatever.
When all that was done and I was back in my MOC tee and jeans, Siying and I made our way to her place to lepak a while. We met with Shushan to have a little meal before heading back to Pasir Ris Park... to... cycle!!!
I'm not sure if you know this but I've only learnt cycling early last year, so I'm still a bit afraid when cycling. I swear I was so scared of cycling too near pedestrians or other cyclists, even stopping when I see people in my path. Silly me.
At one point of time the tip of the seat freaking slammed against my v-j-j. That hurt so bad!!! But I'm surprised it didn't force my period to come.
Blood came from somewhere else though... Here's the story.
There I was, cycling slowly while Shushan and Siying were further ahead. I'd disciplined myself to stay on the cycling path, but of course, not everyone was as courteous as me. This couple was walking damn slowly in the middle of the cycling path while I had to stay on the right because they were taking most of the space on the left. Fuck, as if that didn't piss me off enough.
And then I spotted a cyclist ahead of me, cycling towards me on the same side of the path, so I decided to move to the left, since I have a personal rule of "stick to the left". The only space I had was in front of that couple, so that was where I steered towards.
Well, I don't mean to stereotype, but this freaking minah just had to appear out of nowhere with her snapback and mainstream music blasting, and I got so shocked [which doesn't make good reaction with paranoia, if you think chemistry...] so I just slammed on the brakes. And Idk, maybe it was because I was turning when I braked, so I kind of lost balance and just threw myself off the bike.
That damn girl just cycled away without turning back, and the couple just made their way around me even though I had fallen fucking right in front of them. At that moment, at that fucking moment.... I so badly wanted humans to go extinct.
When I threw myself off the bike, it wasn't a very good move because my foot landed on the ground at a very awkward angle. And, not only did my big toe land nail-down on the ground, but it also got dragged across the asphalt.
Okay that was painful, but my reaction was slow. Only after I saw the blood did I throw off my sandal and wince in pain. And boy, that was a lot of blood. I had no tissues, and nobody was stopping to help, so the only thing I could do was to phone either one of the girls.
How could so much blood come from one toe!? Well that's what the girls tried to find out. Was it the nail? It did look broken, but I've always had the habit of plucking my finger and toenails until the tips were gone. Was it the skin? .....Okay. It was. The skin at the top of the nail was, well, torn. And it still looks like it. Ugh.
As always, the best friends took care of me like they always do.
I went to save someone's ass. And since she was going over and over that I saved her life, I take it that her ass is her life. (':
Ok
So I went to Bugis to buy Pearl a ticket for her trip home, because she hadn't brought her wallet to school. [Her mom sent her to school] She kept thanking me, but I swear it was no problem at all because I was going to the bus terminal anyway. And after all she's also helped me out many times, so it really was nothing. But you're welcome.
Right afterwards I walked to the Singapore-Johore bus terminal and waited for 'Aamir. Wow he had new Converse on his feet!
Both of us were a little broke so we just bought this box of croissants and a can of tuna mayo from Cold Storage. Apparently his IC wasn't done yet, so we went to Lavender for nothing... Except to have a quick lunch at the side of the road.
A long time ago, when I was just a little girl.... Ok not really little, probably mid-primary age. My mom brought me to the National Library when it first opened, and I think that was the first and last time I went there. [I remember borrowing a book called True Blue, with a butterfly on its cover]
'Aamir and I went there yesterday, and it wasn't like how I remembered. The main library is at the basement!? Since when!?
We took some Marvel comics [Thor for him and Teen Titans for myself hehe] but he only read halfway before he started sleeping. And he got told off by the librarian twice, I couldn't help but snicker.
Our date wasn't that long, but it kind of pleased me to think of the fact that we had stayed in the East the whole time. Hah! He took his bus from the same bus terminal and I headed to the bus stop by the Muslim cemetery for bus 7 home.
Alright so Bishan is the spot where Northerns and Circliners come together. Which in this case, is 'Aamir and I.
And we sat on a bench at the bus interchange, talking about families and his Bali trip and a hypocrite I know, before heading to the carpark rooftop nearby. Like every carpark rooftop has, a firehose cover was collecting dust, so I traced our names with my finger. That's a classic memory embossment ok? And for it to be so dusty, are there really never any fires at all???
As silly as it sounds, we bumped into several difficulties when we wanted to get water [okay, I wanted to].
1. The one at the minimart was a dollar. It's just water ffs! Come on I've seen cheaper ones at Fairprice.
'Aamir: OKAY SYG
2. The little fridges at Fairprice, you know, the ones usually by the counter... They didn't have many bottles of plain water. There was only Evian, which was like a freaking one dollar fifty cents. Too expensive.
'Aamir: OKAY SYG
3. The shelves. Oh, I see so many cheaper ones. Oh! 2 bottles for 65 cents! But... I'm not going to drink that much. But it's more worth it to buy two...
'Aamir: OKAY SYG I DRINK ONE
4. Fuck, the water is not cold.
'Aamir: OKAY SYG WE PUT THE BOTTLES AT THIS FREEZER WITH THESE BAGS OF ICE FOR A WHILE OK
5. Fuck, still not cold
'Aamir: OKAY SYG WE PUT AT THE FRIDGE BESIDE THE CASHIER
I WILL ALSO JUST ANYHOW PULL DOWN THE COVER OF THE FRIDGE SO IT WILL BE COLDER FASTER
6. FORGET IT LET'S GO BACK AND GET THAT ONE DOLLAR ONE AT THE MINIMART
'Aamir: BITCH NO
I will never know how 'Aamir can put up with me for so long. Lalalalalalaluv the prince.
Tomorrow is the day he goes off for Bali. He'll be back by Sunday, but still, it feels like such a long time. So, we had a long hug, to prepare for that period of time without each other. You know, like how squirrels collect all those nuts to prepare for winter.
Bishan is where the Northerns and Circliners come together.
But it's also the one MRT station in Singapore where 'Aamir and I part at the very moment we tap in the gantries. Him on the North South Line, and me on the Circle Line.
Thank you for taking the time to read this lengthy post of mine, once again!
Take care, prince. Trust me on this one, but I'll be thinking of you the whole time.
And guys, I'm officially broke.
No work no school, means no money.
Go look for job just trying out my luck.
But no. So fuck me.
Sunday, 22nd September, 2013.
Secret Mission #1: EW1
The last time I visited was somewhere in April or May, for all I remember. At that time my room was the way it was when I left; messy in the way I loved it, but with more dust and an empty wardrobe. Back on that day, when I'd returned from my class chalet, my dad had removed all the clothes from my wardrobe and threw them across my room [according to the sight that greeted me. Not that I saw him doing this].
Yesterday though, my room was a mix of old and new, clean and dirty, full and empty.
I used to leave it in a mess, because mess defines me but yesterday, it was all cleaned up. Even my desk. Everything was organised, furniture was shifted, and the mural on the wall above my bed had been painted over.
However, there were clothes all over my bed and all over the floor next to it. Looking closer I realised they weren't mine, but my parents', and my brothers'. What the hell! You have no idea how shocked I was. I really was. The hell is wrong with them!?
And not only that, but my clothes were not in sight. My closet, the one which I used to put my own clothes before, and the one which was empty I left, were filled with my mother's clothes. I couldn't find mine before I finally thought of the storeroom.
Well I rummaged through the shit in that Santa Claus bag as Siying called it, and took some of the clothes which I thought would sell. I did my research in the Looking For category on Carousell, and through my observation in current trends... So it was kind of easy shit.
Hauled over my finds to Elias Mac, where I sat with Siying and Pearl. We had a chat under the sun whilst sipping on milo and pinching my arm fats [Pearl].
We stopped by Whitesands afterwards, and we split at the station because Pearl had an errand. Siying and I? We headed to Pasir Ris Park for our photoshoot.
This spot is precious for many reasons. It was where we had water wars with the rest of the girls on birthdays, especially in 2010. It was where we did filming in 2011, oh man. Those days.
Alright so I had quite a few changes of clothes from my previous haul, which Siying helped to match and adjusted a bit here and there. And she was the fashion photographer too! I swear I can always trust her to be the photographer. I had so much fun!
Of course, I still stand for what I believe in. I'd love to show you the dozens of pictures she took, but again, this blog is mainly for words.
A hint though, I wore outfits which I would never wear on my own accord. Okay whatever.
When all that was done and I was back in my MOC tee and jeans, Siying and I made our way to her place to lepak a while. We met with Shushan to have a little meal before heading back to Pasir Ris Park... to... cycle!!!
I'm not sure if you know this but I've only learnt cycling early last year, so I'm still a bit afraid when cycling. I swear I was so scared of cycling too near pedestrians or other cyclists, even stopping when I see people in my path. Silly me.
At one point of time the tip of the seat freaking slammed against my v-j-j. That hurt so bad!!! But I'm surprised it didn't force my period to come.
Blood came from somewhere else though... Here's the story.
There I was, cycling slowly while Shushan and Siying were further ahead. I'd disciplined myself to stay on the cycling path, but of course, not everyone was as courteous as me. This couple was walking damn slowly in the middle of the cycling path while I had to stay on the right because they were taking most of the space on the left. Fuck, as if that didn't piss me off enough.
And then I spotted a cyclist ahead of me, cycling towards me on the same side of the path, so I decided to move to the left, since I have a personal rule of "stick to the left". The only space I had was in front of that couple, so that was where I steered towards.
Well, I don't mean to stereotype, but this freaking minah just had to appear out of nowhere with her snapback and mainstream music blasting, and I got so shocked [which doesn't make good reaction with paranoia, if you think chemistry...] so I just slammed on the brakes. And Idk, maybe it was because I was turning when I braked, so I kind of lost balance and just threw myself off the bike.
That damn girl just cycled away without turning back, and the couple just made their way around me even though I had fallen fucking right in front of them. At that moment, at that fucking moment.... I so badly wanted humans to go extinct.
When I threw myself off the bike, it wasn't a very good move because my foot landed on the ground at a very awkward angle. And, not only did my big toe land nail-down on the ground, but it also got dragged across the asphalt.
Okay that was painful, but my reaction was slow. Only after I saw the blood did I throw off my sandal and wince in pain. And boy, that was a lot of blood. I had no tissues, and nobody was stopping to help, so the only thing I could do was to phone either one of the girls.
How could so much blood come from one toe!? Well that's what the girls tried to find out. Was it the nail? It did look broken, but I've always had the habit of plucking my finger and toenails until the tips were gone. Was it the skin? .....Okay. It was. The skin at the top of the nail was, well, torn. And it still looks like it. Ugh.
As always, the best friends took care of me like they always do.
Monday, 23rd September, 2013.
Special Mission #2: EW12
I went to save someone's ass. And since she was going over and over that I saved her life, I take it that her ass is her life. (':
Ok
So I went to Bugis to buy Pearl a ticket for her trip home, because she hadn't brought her wallet to school. [Her mom sent her to school] She kept thanking me, but I swear it was no problem at all because I was going to the bus terminal anyway. And after all she's also helped me out many times, so it really was nothing. But you're welcome.
Right afterwards I walked to the Singapore-Johore bus terminal and waited for 'Aamir. Wow he had new Converse on his feet!
Both of us were a little broke so we just bought this box of croissants and a can of tuna mayo from Cold Storage. Apparently his IC wasn't done yet, so we went to Lavender for nothing... Except to have a quick lunch at the side of the road.
A long time ago, when I was just a little girl.... Ok not really little, probably mid-primary age. My mom brought me to the National Library when it first opened, and I think that was the first and last time I went there. [I remember borrowing a book called True Blue, with a butterfly on its cover]
'Aamir and I went there yesterday, and it wasn't like how I remembered. The main library is at the basement!? Since when!?
We took some Marvel comics [Thor for him and Teen Titans for myself hehe] but he only read halfway before he started sleeping. And he got told off by the librarian twice, I couldn't help but snicker.
Our date wasn't that long, but it kind of pleased me to think of the fact that we had stayed in the East the whole time. Hah! He took his bus from the same bus terminal and I headed to the bus stop by the Muslim cemetery for bus 7 home.
Tuesday, 24th of September, 2013.
Secret Mission #3: NS17/CC15
Alright so Bishan is the spot where Northerns and Circliners come together. Which in this case, is 'Aamir and I.
And we sat on a bench at the bus interchange, talking about families and his Bali trip and a hypocrite I know, before heading to the carpark rooftop nearby. Like every carpark rooftop has, a firehose cover was collecting dust, so I traced our names with my finger. That's a classic memory embossment ok? And for it to be so dusty, are there really never any fires at all???
As silly as it sounds, we bumped into several difficulties when we wanted to get water [okay, I wanted to].
1. The one at the minimart was a dollar. It's just water ffs! Come on I've seen cheaper ones at Fairprice.
'Aamir: OKAY SYG
2. The little fridges at Fairprice, you know, the ones usually by the counter... They didn't have many bottles of plain water. There was only Evian, which was like a freaking one dollar fifty cents. Too expensive.
'Aamir: OKAY SYG
3. The shelves. Oh, I see so many cheaper ones. Oh! 2 bottles for 65 cents! But... I'm not going to drink that much. But it's more worth it to buy two...
'Aamir: OKAY SYG I DRINK ONE
4. Fuck, the water is not cold.
'Aamir: OKAY SYG WE PUT THE BOTTLES AT THIS FREEZER WITH THESE BAGS OF ICE FOR A WHILE OK
5. Fuck, still not cold
'Aamir: OKAY SYG WE PUT AT THE FRIDGE BESIDE THE CASHIER
I WILL ALSO JUST ANYHOW PULL DOWN THE COVER OF THE FRIDGE SO IT WILL BE COLDER FASTER
6. FORGET IT LET'S GO BACK AND GET THAT ONE DOLLAR ONE AT THE MINIMART
'Aamir: BITCH NO
I will never know how 'Aamir can put up with me for so long. Lalalalalalaluv the prince.
Tomorrow is the day he goes off for Bali. He'll be back by Sunday, but still, it feels like such a long time. So, we had a long hug, to prepare for that period of time without each other. You know, like how squirrels collect all those nuts to prepare for winter.
Bishan is where the Northerns and Circliners come together.
But it's also the one MRT station in Singapore where 'Aamir and I part at the very moment we tap in the gantries. Him on the North South Line, and me on the Circle Line.
____
Take care, prince. Trust me on this one, but I'll be thinking of you the whole time.
And guys, I'm officially broke.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Reasons to dislike birthdays.
I have something against birthdays. Of course, this negative passion hasn't been always, as those who know me longer know. It was sparked in 2010, only to be confirmed in 2012. These two years contributed to my dislike for birthdays.
I shall now tell you something, a huge part I left out from the story which I had written about in "My last post". Go ahead and judge me, or change your perspective of me. I don't care. I just need to get this out right now.
2010. My 15th birthday. Remember the guy who caught my eye a year before, and who noticed me only to treat me nothing more than a sister? He is Red. By this time, I actually did wanted to tell him my feelings for him.
I only managed to spend it with him the day after my actual birthday, after I got birthday bashed by the Malay girls from my cliuque with water [that was awesome fun shit]. We headed to our carpark rooftop; this shelter where we always climb onto and lie down and just watch trees and skies.
On that particular day Red and I got ourselves cinammon melts which we ate, side by side on the rooftop. This rooftop was our usual haunt back in those days; there's this little shelter where we can both climb onto, difficult to be reached by normal people.
We weren't a couple, nope. But we cuddled right there on the rooftop, yes, in perfect view of the HDB flats all around. Our cuddle wasn't so indecent though, of course. Okay, it was just lying on laps and lying down close to each other, and holding hands. That's it.
We made our way down before it got dark, and that was where he pulled me into a hug. A birthday hug, I suppose. It was long, it was strong, it was passionate in a way.
He let me go, and he said goodbye; put on his headphones and turned his back on me after giving one last smile.
I sat down, took out my phone; saw the note on my homescreen and looked over the railings. He was already walking down the stairs about two storeys down. I called his name but of course, his headphones blocked me out.
At that moment I had all the courage in the world to tell him I like him. I had the courage for that, but... I didn't have the courage to even chase after him.
What does the note say? It says, with a smiley face at the end; "I MUST tell him on my 15th birthday!"
I still remember.
That was probably the first and last chance I had to tell him in person. The next time we met was when the first kiss happened, and right afterwards he got himself another girl as a girlfriend. The entire year afterwards, every once in a while I would think of my 15th birthday, blaming my lack of courage to be the cause of my loss, and that other girl's gain.
My 16th birthday was fine, because I ate pizza with half the girls, and, yeah, nothing messed it up. The year afterwards though...
2012. My 17th birthday. As you may know, 2012 was my lonely year. Nope. No best friends, no special someone, disappointing and unreliable family members.
But there was Black.
Five months before my 17th birthday, I had met up with Black several times already. We hung out, we talked, and we even cried together once. [we were getting emotional about our respective loneliness, but this is another story] And,... We also held hands, and hugged, and kissed. We were never a couple.
Of course eventually he wanted to take it further. And no, not a relationship, but sex. When I didn't give him what he wanted, he stopped talking to me or meeting me. Right to the week before my birthday... I'm sorry. But you couldn't blame me. I was lonely. I texted him, and I remember my exact words, because I read that text over and over before and after I sent it to him; "It's my birthday next Wednesday. Will you spend it with me?"
And I also roughly remember his reply because I read it so many times it just etched itself into my head: "Meet me in the evening. And you better let me birthday bash you.", somewhere along those lines. I remember the phrase 'birthday bash'. I knew exactly what he meant.
My 17th birthday was what caused my loss of innocence. We did it at 5 in the morning at "the usual place", as he would call it.
Afterwards was when things between my parents and I got more heated up and complicated. Every time I ran away, or hid in my room with tears and bruises, the first person I'd text, or call, was Black. He never answered. I was delusional; everyday I would text him without fail, telling him things which I couldn't tell anyone else because, well, there was nobody else. He never replied any of my messages.
The only times he texted me was when he needed his sexual therapy... And because I had gotten 'addicted' to it as well after my 17th birthday, I would always give it to him. He was careful whenever he did it; he was gentle, and he also took care of my feelings afterwards. He would stroke my hair and kiss me tenderly. I'm sorry. I was blinded by his words and his touch, and I didn't think I was doing anything wrong at all. It was the feeling of being wanted and needed that made me keep going back to him.
But he never came to me when I needed him.
I know it's my fault, but this, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason why I now dislike birthdays. Are you really going to treat someone special only on this one stupid day? Are you going to reject the person on other days no matter how much they need you? Because that's what Black did, and I'm going to grow old believing that everyone else does that every year to me too, past and future.
Not to mention the parents... Your birthday, they love you. They kiss you. The rest of the year, they shun you, they hit you, they hate you. What's the point of the birthday? Does it exist just to show you that you're only gonna be loved on that one day? I'd rather be treated like shit everyday.
That's why I don't want any presents, or even wishes on my birthday. Don't treat me special. Just treat me like how you would on normal days. Deep inside, I'm wishing that I get a miracle birthday to make me forget this hate I have for my special day. But I know it's not going to happen, with all the girls busy and with the prince unable to come to Singapore.
"Black" is "Red" 's elder brother. They are twins.
And with this post written, yesterday was my 18th birthday.
I hate the feeling of being left behind. I really do. Like there was a chance to have fun, to glow, to laugh, but unable to. Very much like how I didn't go for prom last year, very much like how I didn't get to wear pretty baju kurungs for Hari Raya this year.
I don't blame the girls though. I did tell Siying to make sure they didn't plan anything special for me like they always did, so I can't get angry at them. I'm not even. There's a reason though. Maybe if I straightout told them, then at least I'd know I wouldn't get anything. It beats having expectations which remain unmet. So it's okay.
I'm not going to blame my aunt and grandmother either. They're busy too. And my granny can't go out or celebrate as she likes, if you know what I mean. It did make me sad when she saw me dazing on the couch and said, "Birthday girl never go out today? So sad ah hahahaha poor thing..."
Just another year to add to my Reasons Why I Hate Birthdays. Yet, deep down inside as usual, I wish that my next birthday would be better.
I shall now tell you something, a huge part I left out from the story which I had written about in "My last post". Go ahead and judge me, or change your perspective of me. I don't care. I just need to get this out right now.
2010. My 15th birthday. Remember the guy who caught my eye a year before, and who noticed me only to treat me nothing more than a sister? He is Red. By this time, I actually did wanted to tell him my feelings for him.
I only managed to spend it with him the day after my actual birthday, after I got birthday bashed by the Malay girls from my cliuque with water [that was awesome fun shit]. We headed to our carpark rooftop; this shelter where we always climb onto and lie down and just watch trees and skies.
On that particular day Red and I got ourselves cinammon melts which we ate, side by side on the rooftop. This rooftop was our usual haunt back in those days; there's this little shelter where we can both climb onto, difficult to be reached by normal people.
We weren't a couple, nope. But we cuddled right there on the rooftop, yes, in perfect view of the HDB flats all around. Our cuddle wasn't so indecent though, of course. Okay, it was just lying on laps and lying down close to each other, and holding hands. That's it.
We made our way down before it got dark, and that was where he pulled me into a hug. A birthday hug, I suppose. It was long, it was strong, it was passionate in a way.
He let me go, and he said goodbye; put on his headphones and turned his back on me after giving one last smile.
I sat down, took out my phone; saw the note on my homescreen and looked over the railings. He was already walking down the stairs about two storeys down. I called his name but of course, his headphones blocked me out.
At that moment I had all the courage in the world to tell him I like him. I had the courage for that, but... I didn't have the courage to even chase after him.
What does the note say? It says, with a smiley face at the end; "I MUST tell him on my 15th birthday!"
I still remember.
That was probably the first and last chance I had to tell him in person. The next time we met was when the first kiss happened, and right afterwards he got himself another girl as a girlfriend. The entire year afterwards, every once in a while I would think of my 15th birthday, blaming my lack of courage to be the cause of my loss, and that other girl's gain.
My 16th birthday was fine, because I ate pizza with half the girls, and, yeah, nothing messed it up. The year afterwards though...
2012. My 17th birthday. As you may know, 2012 was my lonely year. Nope. No best friends, no special someone, disappointing and unreliable family members.
But there was Black.
Five months before my 17th birthday, I had met up with Black several times already. We hung out, we talked, and we even cried together once. [we were getting emotional about our respective loneliness, but this is another story] And,... We also held hands, and hugged, and kissed. We were never a couple.
Of course eventually he wanted to take it further. And no, not a relationship, but sex. When I didn't give him what he wanted, he stopped talking to me or meeting me. Right to the week before my birthday... I'm sorry. But you couldn't blame me. I was lonely. I texted him, and I remember my exact words, because I read that text over and over before and after I sent it to him; "It's my birthday next Wednesday. Will you spend it with me?"
And I also roughly remember his reply because I read it so many times it just etched itself into my head: "Meet me in the evening. And you better let me birthday bash you.", somewhere along those lines. I remember the phrase 'birthday bash'. I knew exactly what he meant.
My 17th birthday was what caused my loss of innocence. We did it at 5 in the morning at "the usual place", as he would call it.
Afterwards was when things between my parents and I got more heated up and complicated. Every time I ran away, or hid in my room with tears and bruises, the first person I'd text, or call, was Black. He never answered. I was delusional; everyday I would text him without fail, telling him things which I couldn't tell anyone else because, well, there was nobody else. He never replied any of my messages.
The only times he texted me was when he needed his sexual therapy... And because I had gotten 'addicted' to it as well after my 17th birthday, I would always give it to him. He was careful whenever he did it; he was gentle, and he also took care of my feelings afterwards. He would stroke my hair and kiss me tenderly. I'm sorry. I was blinded by his words and his touch, and I didn't think I was doing anything wrong at all. It was the feeling of being wanted and needed that made me keep going back to him.
But he never came to me when I needed him.
I know it's my fault, but this, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason why I now dislike birthdays. Are you really going to treat someone special only on this one stupid day? Are you going to reject the person on other days no matter how much they need you? Because that's what Black did, and I'm going to grow old believing that everyone else does that every year to me too, past and future.
Not to mention the parents... Your birthday, they love you. They kiss you. The rest of the year, they shun you, they hit you, they hate you. What's the point of the birthday? Does it exist just to show you that you're only gonna be loved on that one day? I'd rather be treated like shit everyday.
That's why I don't want any presents, or even wishes on my birthday. Don't treat me special. Just treat me like how you would on normal days. Deep inside, I'm wishing that I get a miracle birthday to make me forget this hate I have for my special day. But I know it's not going to happen, with all the girls busy and with the prince unable to come to Singapore.
"Black" is "Red" 's elder brother. They are twins.
And with this post written, yesterday was my 18th birthday.
I hate the feeling of being left behind. I really do. Like there was a chance to have fun, to glow, to laugh, but unable to. Very much like how I didn't go for prom last year, very much like how I didn't get to wear pretty baju kurungs for Hari Raya this year.
I don't blame the girls though. I did tell Siying to make sure they didn't plan anything special for me like they always did, so I can't get angry at them. I'm not even. There's a reason though. Maybe if I straightout told them, then at least I'd know I wouldn't get anything. It beats having expectations which remain unmet. So it's okay.
I'm not going to blame my aunt and grandmother either. They're busy too. And my granny can't go out or celebrate as she likes, if you know what I mean. It did make me sad when she saw me dazing on the couch and said, "Birthday girl never go out today? So sad ah hahahaha poor thing..."
Just another year to add to my Reasons Why I Hate Birthdays. Yet, deep down inside as usual, I wish that my next birthday would be better.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Of princes and dreams... Yesterday.
I had a date with my prince 'Aamir yesterday, and yes, it went great! Apart from one giant setback but that's okay. I forgive him for that.
We caught the comedy The English Teacher at Causeway Point, and it's the "Pick of the Week" at that cinema and was a great movie, but I'm not sure why there weren't many people who watched it. Oh well, it felt like it was just me and the prince so it doesn't matter. Hehe.
He got his Dip 'N Go thing and we sat at the outskirts of Woodlands station, just sitting and eating, making silly conversation like we always do. We decided to head to Republic Poly to explore a bit, which was just what we did.
Of course, 'Aamir wouldn't allow me to wander off alone yet he didn't want to accompany me explore properly. So the whole experience wasn't up to what I was looking forward to. I'm still glad I managed to spend time with him though.
It still makes me giggle whenever I think about his face when I accidentally threw his shoebag over the ledge! We were tossing it back and forth, and when I wanted to throw it back at him, he didn't catch it and it flew over and down to about one storey down. That was hilarious! [Or maybe I did it on purpose because he had thrown it to my face til it bruised my cheek, and I was just getting back at him. You'll never know]
On purpose or not, I still had to atone for my sin, by being forced to run all the way down and around and all the way back to take the shoebag for the prince.
We parted at Kranji station, and just before he got off the train, I asked him; "Are you glad that I didn't give up on you?"
He gave a slight smile and he said, "Yes."
And that just made my day. ^^
On the other hand, it's another boring Wednesday... I've ran out of space for new theories. I can't find anymore Youtubers who talk about Pokemon too, other than JWittz, TamashiiHiroka, dookieshed, and NintendoFanFTW. I like their style and humour, and other Youtubers just don't have that.
I have also been stuffing myself with gummies and milk tea. Yes, I'm back to those days when I would do nothing all day but stuff my face in front of the computer. Just like back in Pasir Ris. And speaking of which, I had a dream about my old house a few nights ago.
The first thing I remember was being in the stretch between the station and my old house, just walking. Well, I was texting 'Aamir and Luqman [don't get mad at me for dreaming of him please thank you] telling them where I was. From the way I was texting them, it felt normal for me to be living back there so I think I'd been there for quite some time already. Or maybe I never lived at Paya Lebar.
Anyway, as I was pressing the lift for the 12th floor [I live on the 9th floor at Pasir Ris though. Just pointing that out] and thinking to myself, "Damn. The 12th floor has never been so high." Idk, when I was walking earlier, it was daytime but when I got out of the lift, it was dark as night. Alright then.
Who greeted me was my little brother, who seemed to be the master of the house. What do I mean by master??? It seemed like he was the one in charge of everything in the house. I explored the house a little [of course it was familiar to my dream-self but I still had the conscious of my real self, if that makes sense] to find my parents nowhere in sight, and my elder brother sitting in front of the television with this spaced out look.
I came to conclude that that scumbag was... Brain-dead! Of course. No other phrase for it. Maybe mentally retarded but that's what I am too, so *shrugs* I will never forget what he called me on Twitter: "otak cacat". (:
So... I still haven't told my aunt about my academic results. Heh. Don't look at me like that. If you had a GPA less than 1, you'd definitely hide it from your parents wouldn't you?
We caught the comedy The English Teacher at Causeway Point, and it's the "Pick of the Week" at that cinema and was a great movie, but I'm not sure why there weren't many people who watched it. Oh well, it felt like it was just me and the prince so it doesn't matter. Hehe.
He got his Dip 'N Go thing and we sat at the outskirts of Woodlands station, just sitting and eating, making silly conversation like we always do. We decided to head to Republic Poly to explore a bit, which was just what we did.
Of course, 'Aamir wouldn't allow me to wander off alone yet he didn't want to accompany me explore properly. So the whole experience wasn't up to what I was looking forward to. I'm still glad I managed to spend time with him though.
It still makes me giggle whenever I think about his face when I accidentally threw his shoebag over the ledge! We were tossing it back and forth, and when I wanted to throw it back at him, he didn't catch it and it flew over and down to about one storey down. That was hilarious! [Or maybe I did it on purpose because he had thrown it to my face til it bruised my cheek, and I was just getting back at him. You'll never know]
On purpose or not, I still had to atone for my sin, by being forced to run all the way down and around and all the way back to take the shoebag for the prince.
We parted at Kranji station, and just before he got off the train, I asked him; "Are you glad that I didn't give up on you?"
He gave a slight smile and he said, "Yes."
And that just made my day. ^^
____
I have also been stuffing myself with gummies and milk tea. Yes, I'm back to those days when I would do nothing all day but stuff my face in front of the computer. Just like back in Pasir Ris. And speaking of which, I had a dream about my old house a few nights ago.
The first thing I remember was being in the stretch between the station and my old house, just walking. Well, I was texting 'Aamir and Luqman [don't get mad at me for dreaming of him please thank you] telling them where I was. From the way I was texting them, it felt normal for me to be living back there so I think I'd been there for quite some time already. Or maybe I never lived at Paya Lebar.
Anyway, as I was pressing the lift for the 12th floor [I live on the 9th floor at Pasir Ris though. Just pointing that out] and thinking to myself, "Damn. The 12th floor has never been so high." Idk, when I was walking earlier, it was daytime but when I got out of the lift, it was dark as night. Alright then.
Who greeted me was my little brother, who seemed to be the master of the house. What do I mean by master??? It seemed like he was the one in charge of everything in the house. I explored the house a little [of course it was familiar to my dream-self but I still had the conscious of my real self, if that makes sense] to find my parents nowhere in sight, and my elder brother sitting in front of the television with this spaced out look.
I came to conclude that that scumbag was... Brain-dead! Of course. No other phrase for it. Maybe mentally retarded but that's what I am too, so *shrugs* I will never forget what he called me on Twitter: "otak cacat". (:
So... I still haven't told my aunt about my academic results. Heh. Don't look at me like that. If you had a GPA less than 1, you'd definitely hide it from your parents wouldn't you?
Monday, September 16, 2013
Sick but a nonetheless fun trip to Johore.
I'm sick.
Not a nice way to start a post, but it was how my trip to Johore had started too. I was feeling more heated up than usual, and I didn't have appetite or mood to even move.
Okay, I'm not going to write all about my trip now, but I must say, despite being sick, I had lots of fun. My trip was accompanied by my uncles, maternal grandfather, aunty, and none other than my cousin Kak Siti. Granny had already made her way to her kampung, because her elder sister's granddaughter is the bride, so you could say she's an important person who had to be there.
I haven't slept next to her for a day when I got sick, and 'Aamir wasn't texting me too due to his Internet shit. Am I really the only one who falls sick whenever I miss someone??? It also didn't help that I had to leave behind my cat best friend Tilda when I went off to Johore.
You have no idea how heartbroken I was when Tilda was laying on our bedroom floor as I was turning off the lights before leaving. She looked so sad, so lonely. I had to pick her up one more time and hug the shit out of her. Even then, it was not enough. I couldn't stop thinking of how alone she was, or how loud her cries for me would be, or how she was gonna get bullied by the male cats, during my car trip. ):
Well anyway, on that Friday night, I had Ramly burger with Kak Siti. Another awesome thing was, there was Wi-fi! But the not so awesome part? The prince doesn't have Internet so Wi-fi was pretty much useless.
We reached Taman Anggerik nearing 3 in the morning, and about seven hours later we were already on our way to the wedding at kampung Benut. By this time I was really sick, and I felt so nauseous and uncomfortable that all I looked forward to was to lie back down and go to sleep. Which was what I did when we got back home many hours later. It felt good.
Oh, back at kampung Benut, my granny hunted down Panadols the moment she knew I was sick, asking her nieces and nephews and other relatives, and she also fed me prata [yes, prata at a wedding. Woohoo] when I told her I had no appetite to eat. Yes, she spoils me, she really does.
Back to Taman Anggerik. Woke up from my nap with snot continuing to drip from my nose, but I still followed my uncles and Kak Siti back to the eatery with Wi-fi. I had wonderfully delicious naan and tandoori chicken, and 'Aamir's brother bought some Internet roaming thing so he and I were texting after days of not doing so. Bliss!
Lastly, we spent Sunday at Giant Plentong, where Kak Siti and I had foot massages. Damn girl. It was so painful but it felt so damn good. [ahem.] And I'm not sure about you guys, but I think it was cool that the masseuse knew I have frequent and terrible stomach problems just by massaging my feet. Oh, it really tickled.
I ate a lot, I might add. I had Nasi Pattaya, chocolate-banana crepe, chocolate nuggets, and not to forget a Subway sandwich. Which Singaporean Muslim wouldn't be excited to eat Subway when they're in Malaysia? Definitely not me, and definitely not Kak Siti. I had a Teriyaki sandwich with extra cheese and no lettuce [sorry for not eating my vegetables, prince] and damn girl. My life felt complete.
No, of course I didn't do shopping for clothes. Although, I took Siying's advice of trying to dress my top more often, so I tried looking for things she calls 'blouses'. The nice tops were expensive, while the cheap ones weren't to my liking. Yes. Dressing up will always be difficult.
Well the only thing close to fashion which I'd purchased was... A copy of Seventeen Malaysia.
We all headed back to Taman Anggerik to wait for granny to arrive back from the groom's kampung, and we were all finally on the way back to Singapore at 8PM. There was a traffic jam before Tuas Checkpoint, so Kak Siti and I, seated right at the back of the 6-seater or whatever you call it, decided to play a game of Charades through this app on her phone.
Okay, I must admit, we were making a hell load of noise there, and I couldn't stop giggling too! This entire Johore trip is probably one of those rare occasions where I manage to bond with this cousin of mine.
With this post written, I'd post some pictures as well but no. I've already made a pact never to post pictures on my blog anymore; just words. Words, words, words. If any Singaporeans stumble upon this blog, I'd rather they get attracted to me for my writing, instead of "Damn she's so pretty." [if I am] Okay?
Anyway, I have a prince and a best friend and other amazing people who calls me beautiful and enjoys my writing. I'm so blessed for that huhu *cries tears of gratitude*
We all reached home just as 'Aamir called me from his house phone. I ran outside the house just to answer his call, and I was so glad to hear his voice again. I've just received three missed calls from him, but I'm sorry, I can't answer. There aren't anymore spots for my privacy, and I've ran out of excuses to tell my grandma whenever she asked who was that. You have no idea how terrible I feel right now...
Also another apology to Siying because I've used you for quite some times already, telling my granny that it was you on the phone talking about our job interview.
I've spent my day watching videos of Pokemon myths and trivia and fun facts, stuff like that. I have recalled how amazing the world of Pokemon have always been. I'll write again soon, thank you for reading!
Not a nice way to start a post, but it was how my trip to Johore had started too. I was feeling more heated up than usual, and I didn't have appetite or mood to even move.
Okay, I'm not going to write all about my trip now, but I must say, despite being sick, I had lots of fun. My trip was accompanied by my uncles, maternal grandfather, aunty, and none other than my cousin Kak Siti. Granny had already made her way to her kampung, because her elder sister's granddaughter is the bride, so you could say she's an important person who had to be there.
I haven't slept next to her for a day when I got sick, and 'Aamir wasn't texting me too due to his Internet shit. Am I really the only one who falls sick whenever I miss someone??? It also didn't help that I had to leave behind my cat best friend Tilda when I went off to Johore.
You have no idea how heartbroken I was when Tilda was laying on our bedroom floor as I was turning off the lights before leaving. She looked so sad, so lonely. I had to pick her up one more time and hug the shit out of her. Even then, it was not enough. I couldn't stop thinking of how alone she was, or how loud her cries for me would be, or how she was gonna get bullied by the male cats, during my car trip. ):
Well anyway, on that Friday night, I had Ramly burger with Kak Siti. Another awesome thing was, there was Wi-fi! But the not so awesome part? The prince doesn't have Internet so Wi-fi was pretty much useless.
We reached Taman Anggerik nearing 3 in the morning, and about seven hours later we were already on our way to the wedding at kampung Benut. By this time I was really sick, and I felt so nauseous and uncomfortable that all I looked forward to was to lie back down and go to sleep. Which was what I did when we got back home many hours later. It felt good.
Oh, back at kampung Benut, my granny hunted down Panadols the moment she knew I was sick, asking her nieces and nephews and other relatives, and she also fed me prata [yes, prata at a wedding. Woohoo] when I told her I had no appetite to eat. Yes, she spoils me, she really does.
Back to Taman Anggerik. Woke up from my nap with snot continuing to drip from my nose, but I still followed my uncles and Kak Siti back to the eatery with Wi-fi. I had wonderfully delicious naan and tandoori chicken, and 'Aamir's brother bought some Internet roaming thing so he and I were texting after days of not doing so. Bliss!
Lastly, we spent Sunday at Giant Plentong, where Kak Siti and I had foot massages. Damn girl. It was so painful but it felt so damn good. [ahem.] And I'm not sure about you guys, but I think it was cool that the masseuse knew I have frequent and terrible stomach problems just by massaging my feet. Oh, it really tickled.
I ate a lot, I might add. I had Nasi Pattaya, chocolate-banana crepe, chocolate nuggets, and not to forget a Subway sandwich. Which Singaporean Muslim wouldn't be excited to eat Subway when they're in Malaysia? Definitely not me, and definitely not Kak Siti. I had a Teriyaki sandwich with extra cheese and no lettuce [sorry for not eating my vegetables, prince] and damn girl. My life felt complete.
No, of course I didn't do shopping for clothes. Although, I took Siying's advice of trying to dress my top more often, so I tried looking for things she calls 'blouses'. The nice tops were expensive, while the cheap ones weren't to my liking. Yes. Dressing up will always be difficult.
Well the only thing close to fashion which I'd purchased was... A copy of Seventeen Malaysia.
We all headed back to Taman Anggerik to wait for granny to arrive back from the groom's kampung, and we were all finally on the way back to Singapore at 8PM. There was a traffic jam before Tuas Checkpoint, so Kak Siti and I, seated right at the back of the 6-seater or whatever you call it, decided to play a game of Charades through this app on her phone.
Okay, I must admit, we were making a hell load of noise there, and I couldn't stop giggling too! This entire Johore trip is probably one of those rare occasions where I manage to bond with this cousin of mine.
With this post written, I'd post some pictures as well but no. I've already made a pact never to post pictures on my blog anymore; just words. Words, words, words. If any Singaporeans stumble upon this blog, I'd rather they get attracted to me for my writing, instead of "Damn she's so pretty." [if I am] Okay?
Anyway, I have a prince and a best friend and other amazing people who calls me beautiful and enjoys my writing. I'm so blessed for that huhu *cries tears of gratitude*
We all reached home just as 'Aamir called me from his house phone. I ran outside the house just to answer his call, and I was so glad to hear his voice again. I've just received three missed calls from him, but I'm sorry, I can't answer. There aren't anymore spots for my privacy, and I've ran out of excuses to tell my grandma whenever she asked who was that. You have no idea how terrible I feel right now...
Also another apology to Siying because I've used you for quite some times already, telling my granny that it was you on the phone talking about our job interview.
I've spent my day watching videos of Pokemon myths and trivia and fun facts, stuff like that. I have recalled how amazing the world of Pokemon have always been. I'll write again soon, thank you for reading!
Friday, September 13, 2013
A note for the prince.
Hey prince. I've been waiting for your call all day. I've been sitting by my phone when it's charging, and bringing it with me even to the toilet when it's not. I really didn't want to miss such an important thing. But it seems like your call isn't coming anymore.
I've seen a tweet revolving around a mourning girlfriend who texts her other half every morning, every night, without fail, even after he had died. I feel that way now, just that you're not permanently gone. [sisey mengumpat, or whatever that my grandmother says that's supposedly equivalent to "touch wood"]
Still, I feel an equal sense of sadness. The last morning we had a Whatsapp conversation, we were rejoicing the knowledge that we've been together for eight months, longer than any of our previous relationships, respectively. Hooray!
And then you went to game, and I told you alright, as long as you don't forget me. That was the last time we caught the flying kiss from the emoji using our fist emoticon. I love how you called me using your house phone when you found out you were having connection problems, but still, I feel lonely.
Don't you worry, though. I've not been out loitering or exploring without your permission. Even when I had to go out, I told you. I've been updating you everyday, love. You have 83 messages waiting for you, and counting. Right now they're all just accompanied by one tick, and this continues making me sad.
I miss your voice already. It's grown latched onto me, thanks to the memories of your sudden frequent phone calls. I feel so much more blissful than I should, feeling over the moon whenever my phone rings and it's your house phone. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, in some sense? Perhaps.
Well, like I'd told you, I'm heading to Johore tonight. Less than three hours left until I depart. I'm just writing this in case we never got to talk before I cross the borders. I miss you so much. And I'm not being shameless but I know over there you're missing me just as much. I'm sorry I'm not able to call you.
I have just received a call from the prince and his Internet will be down until Monday. Three cheers for five days without Internet. [and probably beyond] I wonder how he's going to survive. Probably about time that he starts reading the book I lent him eight months ago.
I've seen a tweet revolving around a mourning girlfriend who texts her other half every morning, every night, without fail, even after he had died. I feel that way now, just that you're not permanently gone. [sisey mengumpat, or whatever that my grandmother says that's supposedly equivalent to "touch wood"]
Still, I feel an equal sense of sadness. The last morning we had a Whatsapp conversation, we were rejoicing the knowledge that we've been together for eight months, longer than any of our previous relationships, respectively. Hooray!
And then you went to game, and I told you alright, as long as you don't forget me. That was the last time we caught the flying kiss from the emoji using our fist emoticon. I love how you called me using your house phone when you found out you were having connection problems, but still, I feel lonely.
Don't you worry, though. I've not been out loitering or exploring without your permission. Even when I had to go out, I told you. I've been updating you everyday, love. You have 83 messages waiting for you, and counting. Right now they're all just accompanied by one tick, and this continues making me sad.
I miss your voice already. It's grown latched onto me, thanks to the memories of your sudden frequent phone calls. I feel so much more blissful than I should, feeling over the moon whenever my phone rings and it's your house phone. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, in some sense? Perhaps.
Well, like I'd told you, I'm heading to Johore tonight. Less than three hours left until I depart. I'm just writing this in case we never got to talk before I cross the borders. I miss you so much. And I'm not being shameless but I know over there you're missing me just as much. I'm sorry I'm not able to call you.
____
I have just received a call from the prince and his Internet will be down until Monday. Three cheers for five days without Internet. [and probably beyond] I wonder how he's going to survive. Probably about time that he starts reading the book I lent him eight months ago.
I have recalled the dread of school.
I forgot that something called "school" existed. Along with this recollection, I've also remembered that there is such a thing as social life and studies. Well, fuck.
Today's the release of my end-of-semester exams. Alright, let's just rewind time back to those days.
I fooled around during the first few months of lessons, yes, I admitted, and I tried to change. I tried, by going through my notes and doing the tutorials which were due ages before. I went to the school library for my own solitary study sessions during study break.
I thought I tried. I thought I really did. And you know, I felt satisfied with what I had done for Engineering Maths [EG1]. I knew it wasn't the best, but it was my best. To think that I had failed, straightout.
And what am I going to tell my aunt? At times like these I wish it was my parents I am dreading to reveal my results to. Because my parents wouldn't care, so they wouldn't be disappointed. Yes... If you want someone to care for you, you have to be prepared to go through the feeling of disappointing someone.
I just hope Mendaki doesn't take back their financial support... My aunt took the effort to persuade them to support me in my studies because of our money issues. Sigh. I am sorry. I really am.
Next... there is the social life.
Whether or not I was being myself, my classmates don't seem to accept me anymore. Maybe they all prefer my classmate, the first girl I had made friends with back on the first day of school. Yes, I get that she's a friendly and wonderful person, and I'm not... I wish I can be like her too. Yet, I don't. Because I want to be accepted for who I am.
I dread to see the faces which I had thought I loved; my Poly classmates. I went through my first semester believing with all my heart that Ngee Ann people are nothing but stuck-up. I wish I can change this view. But I can't, after what I've been through. How I wish I can live in the fantasy that my classmates are actually the prince and his classmates. I'm so grateful to have known them all, and they regard my presence way better than my own classmates.
Future problems aside, hmmm. It's yet another lazy day. I woke up to my phone vibrating like mad; it was the prince calling to say good morning. How honoured can I get? Part of me wishes this would go on forever; that he wouldn't rely on Whatsapp for communication between us even after he gets his Internet back.
He hasn't called again since that call though. He said he'd probably get his Internet back after Friday prayers. Even if not, I'm sure he would have called me by now. I wish I have a Pidgey to send a message to him.
P.s. I love writing this way. I feel so free, without meeting the expectations of society which probably never existed in the first place. And I've decided whether or not I want to put anymore pictures: the answer is no. Because I am still dead-set on being focused on for my words and not my looks. [if I even had any hahahaha ok]
Today's the release of my end-of-semester exams. Alright, let's just rewind time back to those days.
I fooled around during the first few months of lessons, yes, I admitted, and I tried to change. I tried, by going through my notes and doing the tutorials which were due ages before. I went to the school library for my own solitary study sessions during study break.
I thought I tried. I thought I really did. And you know, I felt satisfied with what I had done for Engineering Maths [EG1]. I knew it wasn't the best, but it was my best. To think that I had failed, straightout.
And what am I going to tell my aunt? At times like these I wish it was my parents I am dreading to reveal my results to. Because my parents wouldn't care, so they wouldn't be disappointed. Yes... If you want someone to care for you, you have to be prepared to go through the feeling of disappointing someone.
I just hope Mendaki doesn't take back their financial support... My aunt took the effort to persuade them to support me in my studies because of our money issues. Sigh. I am sorry. I really am.
Next... there is the social life.
Whether or not I was being myself, my classmates don't seem to accept me anymore. Maybe they all prefer my classmate, the first girl I had made friends with back on the first day of school. Yes, I get that she's a friendly and wonderful person, and I'm not... I wish I can be like her too. Yet, I don't. Because I want to be accepted for who I am.
I dread to see the faces which I had thought I loved; my Poly classmates. I went through my first semester believing with all my heart that Ngee Ann people are nothing but stuck-up. I wish I can change this view. But I can't, after what I've been through. How I wish I can live in the fantasy that my classmates are actually the prince and his classmates. I'm so grateful to have known them all, and they regard my presence way better than my own classmates.
Future problems aside, hmmm. It's yet another lazy day. I woke up to my phone vibrating like mad; it was the prince calling to say good morning. How honoured can I get? Part of me wishes this would go on forever; that he wouldn't rely on Whatsapp for communication between us even after he gets his Internet back.
He hasn't called again since that call though. He said he'd probably get his Internet back after Friday prayers. Even if not, I'm sure he would have called me by now. I wish I have a Pidgey to send a message to him.
P.s. I love writing this way. I feel so free, without meeting the expectations of society which probably never existed in the first place. And I've decided whether or not I want to put anymore pictures: the answer is no. Because I am still dead-set on being focused on for my words and not my looks. [if I even had any hahahaha ok]
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Relax Thursday.
Such a lazy day. I woke up to see my grandma gone to Johore. Well, that was fine, and then I got up and took a shower... And came back to my phone to see 5 missed calls from four minutes before. This feeling sucks!
There are many different kinds of "miss". There's the kind where you are longing for someone who's far away. You're longing for their touch, for their comfort, for their kiss. Then there's the kind where you're longing for the person who isn't who they are anymore; someone who used to be your best friend, who is now just someone you see everyday.
And then, there is... The "coincidence" kind of miss. The type where your other half who lives far away, comes to a city near you but you aren't able to meet him. The type where you are now standing where he stood ten minutes earlier. The type where you were waiting hours for someone who arrived just as you gave up and left.
You know when I was younger, I would always wake up early on the weekends to send my mom off to work. Back then she was working office hours everyday and my grandmother still lived with us. I would hear them talking and this would wake me up around 8, and I would get up from bed and walk to the kitchen where they were.
Sometimes I wouldn't wake up on time. I would wake up to see that she was already gone. When there were those days where I'd missed my mom, I would cry. I really cried.
Well anyway, the prince's internet is down til tomorrow. And he lives in Malaysia, which means he can't text or call me with his phone, and his 3G is also pretty much useless. All he can do is call me with a number that's like 10 digits long.
Oh well, I feel like we're back in the 90s when the girl would wait by the phone for the lover to call! And why can't I call him myself, you ask? Maybe because his house phone has a cord and I'm afraid his mom would answer. Yes! Just like in those days back in primary school whenever I rang up a crush! I'm not sure why it makes me feel so blissful, more than I should.
Have I told you that I spent the day before yesterday with him as well as my best friend? Siying and I had a job interview at CC11 Tai Seng, which were unfamiliar to the both of us although it's only 2 stations away from me on the Circle Line.
The rain had gotten a little heavier by the time we got there. We saw the building on the other side of the road; letters spelling out Charles & Keith displayed right at the top. Ran in the rain, we did, in our dress [Siying's] and skirt [mine]. By the time we were halfway through we realised there were two C&K buildings. And, apparently, it was the one which was further from where we had made it to.
Ran in the rain again we did; okay not really run because damn, I wasn't very comfortable in the maxi skirt which I had forced myself to wear. And Siying's sandals were slippery, so we kind of walked briskly. By the time we made it to the further building, our hair was a mess and my skirt was stained darker where the raindrops fell upon.
I felt so adventurous, I really did! I just kept thinking that it would have been more fun in my jeans and Converse sneakers. *shrugs and grins sheepishly*
After the interview [which went well apart from the fact that I felt shadowed by my best friend] we walked out of the building greeted by harder raindrops, stronger winds, and harsh coldness. Goodness! I really wanted so badly to wear jeans at that moment! My skirt was flying around and it did not look cool at all. [Oh, I had a pair in my bag but Siying wouldn't let me change]
We walked back to Tai Seng station in the rain, a shorter route since we knew where to go already. Followed her to the Tampines post office for her to collect yet another parcel. I still feel sad about my Pikachu thumbdrives which had "gotten lost in the mail".
I was shameless enough to completely lepak at her house for a while, even trying on her clothes. I fucking love the way her sheer top matches with my tank top. Oh goodness. And she also said that I looked like a pretty Malay woman. Damn. What would I do to get back my Cotton On sheer top.
I had so many outfits on me that day! I was wearing a long-sleeved top with a tank underneath, and a maxi skirt with shorts underneath. And not to forget the maroon skinnies in my bag.
Well I made my way to Bishan afterwards and changed yet again into my skirt. I sat waiting for the prince who just finished his gym session, and when he saw me he was pleasantly surprised; "You look so nice!!" and he also said I seemed to have matured hehehe.
During our meal though, of course we started to be ourselves again, and he even said, "Dress so mature but still a kid." aww man he is such a bitch but I love him all the same.
We took the Circle Line train back to Paya Lebar where we took a walk through Geylang only to realise that the tailor was closed, so he decided to send me home instead. Right to the point where we kissed... It was magic. And even the prince said so.
And I just realised that I'd spent a day with two wonderful people but took a photo with neither of them.
There are many different kinds of "miss". There's the kind where you are longing for someone who's far away. You're longing for their touch, for their comfort, for their kiss. Then there's the kind where you're longing for the person who isn't who they are anymore; someone who used to be your best friend, who is now just someone you see everyday.
And then, there is... The "coincidence" kind of miss. The type where your other half who lives far away, comes to a city near you but you aren't able to meet him. The type where you are now standing where he stood ten minutes earlier. The type where you were waiting hours for someone who arrived just as you gave up and left.
You know when I was younger, I would always wake up early on the weekends to send my mom off to work. Back then she was working office hours everyday and my grandmother still lived with us. I would hear them talking and this would wake me up around 8, and I would get up from bed and walk to the kitchen where they were.
Sometimes I wouldn't wake up on time. I would wake up to see that she was already gone. When there were those days where I'd missed my mom, I would cry. I really cried.
Well anyway, the prince's internet is down til tomorrow. And he lives in Malaysia, which means he can't text or call me with his phone, and his 3G is also pretty much useless. All he can do is call me with a number that's like 10 digits long.
Oh well, I feel like we're back in the 90s when the girl would wait by the phone for the lover to call! And why can't I call him myself, you ask? Maybe because his house phone has a cord and I'm afraid his mom would answer. Yes! Just like in those days back in primary school whenever I rang up a crush! I'm not sure why it makes me feel so blissful, more than I should.
Have I told you that I spent the day before yesterday with him as well as my best friend? Siying and I had a job interview at CC11 Tai Seng, which were unfamiliar to the both of us although it's only 2 stations away from me on the Circle Line.
The rain had gotten a little heavier by the time we got there. We saw the building on the other side of the road; letters spelling out Charles & Keith displayed right at the top. Ran in the rain, we did, in our dress [Siying's] and skirt [mine]. By the time we were halfway through we realised there were two C&K buildings. And, apparently, it was the one which was further from where we had made it to.
Ran in the rain again we did; okay not really run because damn, I wasn't very comfortable in the maxi skirt which I had forced myself to wear. And Siying's sandals were slippery, so we kind of walked briskly. By the time we made it to the further building, our hair was a mess and my skirt was stained darker where the raindrops fell upon.
I felt so adventurous, I really did! I just kept thinking that it would have been more fun in my jeans and Converse sneakers. *shrugs and grins sheepishly*
After the interview [which went well apart from the fact that I felt shadowed by my best friend] we walked out of the building greeted by harder raindrops, stronger winds, and harsh coldness. Goodness! I really wanted so badly to wear jeans at that moment! My skirt was flying around and it did not look cool at all. [Oh, I had a pair in my bag but Siying wouldn't let me change]
We walked back to Tai Seng station in the rain, a shorter route since we knew where to go already. Followed her to the Tampines post office for her to collect yet another parcel. I still feel sad about my Pikachu thumbdrives which had "gotten lost in the mail".
I was shameless enough to completely lepak at her house for a while, even trying on her clothes. I fucking love the way her sheer top matches with my tank top. Oh goodness. And she also said that I looked like a pretty Malay woman. Damn. What would I do to get back my Cotton On sheer top.
I had so many outfits on me that day! I was wearing a long-sleeved top with a tank underneath, and a maxi skirt with shorts underneath. And not to forget the maroon skinnies in my bag.
Well I made my way to Bishan afterwards and changed yet again into my skirt. I sat waiting for the prince who just finished his gym session, and when he saw me he was pleasantly surprised; "You look so nice!!" and he also said I seemed to have matured hehehe.
During our meal though, of course we started to be ourselves again, and he even said, "Dress so mature but still a kid." aww man he is such a bitch but I love him all the same.
We took the Circle Line train back to Paya Lebar where we took a walk through Geylang only to realise that the tailor was closed, so he decided to send me home instead. Right to the point where we kissed... It was magic. And even the prince said so.
And I just realised that I'd spent a day with two wonderful people but took a photo with neither of them.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
The significance of 11th September.
It's the 11th of September.
The most famous this date is for, is of course the tragedy of the World Trade Center. History was written, lives were lost, heroes were recognised. It happened in more than a decade ago in 2001, and today makes it its 12th anniversary. Of course, me being a Singaporean, this event is not entirely significant to me, although it is to America.
Today also makes it 8 months since the prince and I got together. I know celebrating a relationship by months is silly, but I've never lasted this long with someone. The longest which the prince had lasted was 7 months... He and I nearly stopped our relationship in that duration too. Today means a lot because we've been through so much in the last month.
Most of all, today is my mother's 49th birthday. I don't always remember her age like this; all I remember is, she's a year older than Singapore.
I still remember her previous birthday, like it was just yesterday. I had asked her out for dinner, and she agreed but the plan was cancelled when the both of us fell asleep. It was evening by the time I woke up; she told me she fell asleep and that there was no need to go out. She went back to her slumber right after.
I on the other hand, felt bad so I sneaked out afterwards and headed to Tampines to get her a cake. This confectionery in particular was her favourite; she was always commending on the strawberry cakes. That was what I got. It was expensive, but it was alright because she liked it.
I remember texting my brothers, telling them to pay a portion of it. Even five dollars was fine; of course, my little brother was alright with it but the scumbag of the elder brother never paid for it. The reason why I wanted to split the bill and claim money from them was just so I could tell our mom that the cake was from us.
That was alright, but I got home to see my mom being in a bad mood. I decided to wait til dad came home for us to reveal the cake, and maybe her mood would have softened a bit as well by then. I was wrong.
By the time she decided to talk to all of us, it was close to midnight. When she saw the cake, her face never changed; she remained scowling and the first thing she said was, "I was waiting for someone to bring me out to dinner. This is such a disappointment."
Knowing my brothers, I'm honestly not sure if anyone would get her a cake this year. I definitely wouldn't be able to. And no. I do not want to either.
The most famous this date is for, is of course the tragedy of the World Trade Center. History was written, lives were lost, heroes were recognised. It happened in more than a decade ago in 2001, and today makes it its 12th anniversary. Of course, me being a Singaporean, this event is not entirely significant to me, although it is to America.
Today also makes it 8 months since the prince and I got together. I know celebrating a relationship by months is silly, but I've never lasted this long with someone. The longest which the prince had lasted was 7 months... He and I nearly stopped our relationship in that duration too. Today means a lot because we've been through so much in the last month.
Most of all, today is my mother's 49th birthday. I don't always remember her age like this; all I remember is, she's a year older than Singapore.
I still remember her previous birthday, like it was just yesterday. I had asked her out for dinner, and she agreed but the plan was cancelled when the both of us fell asleep. It was evening by the time I woke up; she told me she fell asleep and that there was no need to go out. She went back to her slumber right after.
I on the other hand, felt bad so I sneaked out afterwards and headed to Tampines to get her a cake. This confectionery in particular was her favourite; she was always commending on the strawberry cakes. That was what I got. It was expensive, but it was alright because she liked it.
I remember texting my brothers, telling them to pay a portion of it. Even five dollars was fine; of course, my little brother was alright with it but the scumbag of the elder brother never paid for it. The reason why I wanted to split the bill and claim money from them was just so I could tell our mom that the cake was from us.
That was alright, but I got home to see my mom being in a bad mood. I decided to wait til dad came home for us to reveal the cake, and maybe her mood would have softened a bit as well by then. I was wrong.
By the time she decided to talk to all of us, it was close to midnight. When she saw the cake, her face never changed; she remained scowling and the first thing she said was, "I was waiting for someone to bring me out to dinner. This is such a disappointment."
Knowing my brothers, I'm honestly not sure if anyone would get her a cake this year. I definitely wouldn't be able to. And no. I do not want to either.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Songs from other perspectives.
Songs from the perspective of someone else are actually more saddening than the ones that you relate to yourself. Sure, you've listened to songs of heartbreak while getting over your break-up, or songs about 'home' while you're on a walk from that empty house. It gets to you, it makes you sad. Yes.
But honestly, I get sadder when I listen to songs from the perspective of other people.
How many times have I felt so sad when I listened to past hits like "Come Home", or "Where'd You Go", wondering if that was how my parents felt back in Pasir Ris?
Come home, come home; I've been waiting for you, for so long, so long.
Where'd you go? I miss you so; feels like it's been forever since you've been gone.
And what about the times when I felt like crying when I thought of 'Aamir in Bruno Mars' shoes in "When I Was Your Man"? I couldn't even imagine him being without me. When he broke up with me for the first [and last, I hope] time, I listened to "I'd Hate To Be You When People Find Out What This Song Is About" on repeat; "And I'm sorry; this wasn't easy. When I asked you believed me, you never let go; but I let go." It was just as difficult for him as it was for me.
Not to forget the perspective of your future self.
I've been through the emotional state of "Wish You Were Here"; I wouldn't want to go through that heartbreak again. I think of myself being alone again, and just by listening to this song, I'd make sure I treat the prince right so I wouldn't have to wish for him to be here again.
And what about the song which Skylar Gray wrote for the grandfather which she never managed to say goodbye to? I would never want to be without my grandmother. Whenever I listen to this song, I'd want to treasure every moment I have with her; no... I can never change the fact that she will one day be without me.
I just listened to "Wrecking Ball", and yes, it reminds me of the prince. I love him so much, and I can't forgive the way I treated him. He must have been so hurt. And I'm sorry. I just had a date with him, and everything went well, but I'm going to keep trying to make him happy everyday.
Try listening to songs which are from the perspectives from other people. From those close to you. From your future self. You may be surprised at how much more sadder they are. They are able to make you think twice before treating someone this way, or that. They help you get so scared of losing them, being in a world without them, that you'll finally learn how to treasure every moment with these people.
But honestly, I get sadder when I listen to songs from the perspective of other people.
How many times have I felt so sad when I listened to past hits like "Come Home", or "Where'd You Go", wondering if that was how my parents felt back in Pasir Ris?
Come home, come home; I've been waiting for you, for so long, so long.
Where'd you go? I miss you so; feels like it's been forever since you've been gone.
And what about the times when I felt like crying when I thought of 'Aamir in Bruno Mars' shoes in "When I Was Your Man"? I couldn't even imagine him being without me. When he broke up with me for the first [and last, I hope] time, I listened to "I'd Hate To Be You When People Find Out What This Song Is About" on repeat; "And I'm sorry; this wasn't easy. When I asked you believed me, you never let go; but I let go." It was just as difficult for him as it was for me.
Not to forget the perspective of your future self.
I've been through the emotional state of "Wish You Were Here"; I wouldn't want to go through that heartbreak again. I think of myself being alone again, and just by listening to this song, I'd make sure I treat the prince right so I wouldn't have to wish for him to be here again.
And what about the song which Skylar Gray wrote for the grandfather which she never managed to say goodbye to? I would never want to be without my grandmother. Whenever I listen to this song, I'd want to treasure every moment I have with her; no... I can never change the fact that she will one day be without me.
I just listened to "Wrecking Ball", and yes, it reminds me of the prince. I love him so much, and I can't forgive the way I treated him. He must have been so hurt. And I'm sorry. I just had a date with him, and everything went well, but I'm going to keep trying to make him happy everyday.
Try listening to songs which are from the perspectives from other people. From those close to you. From your future self. You may be surprised at how much more sadder they are. They are able to make you think twice before treating someone this way, or that. They help you get so scared of losing them, being in a world without them, that you'll finally learn how to treasure every moment with these people.
Monday, September 09, 2013
Money problems!!
If there's a horror story that's shorter than the one about the last man on Earth hearing a knock on the door, it's my bank account balance.
As you may know, I've not been getting any allowance from anyone for this whole year. It was fine at first because I had a job, right to the point where I couldn't handle my lady boss anymore and quit right after I finally stood up for myself. It was also my exams period and she wouldn't allow me to work just one day a week, although she had mentioned so many times that she would understand if I had to. [Full story here or here but whatever]
Well, I managed to stock up on my finances during Hari Raya, so that went well for a while. Of course, there was something called lunch which I had to provide myself for, and I, embarrassingly, spent a lot on that. There were also movies to watch with the prince and books to read and transport fees... Don't blame me for my declining finances.
So a while back I actually discovered that I don't have to pay for my school fees anymore. My aunt had managed to apply for some Mendaki thing, so I'm really thankful for that, Alhamdullilah. Because of this, I feel bad for accepting anymore money from my aunt so that's why I decided to juggle my own finances. I'm not getting allowance from her.
My parents have obviously washed their hands off of me. I've not gotten a single cent from them for the past 9 months now. Not even when I asked, not even when they knew I was going to start in tertiary education soon. I didn't mind, really I didn't. But this is what pissed me off...
During Hari Raya, my father's many siblings had already set my envelopes of money for me. I'm not sure what the English word is, but you know 'kirim'? Yes, my paternal aunties and uncles and some other relatives had passed money to Mother, to be passed on to me as 'kirim'. As I'd expected, she decided to keep this money for herself.
I know this, because
1. I asked my little brother. Yes, he did receive my envelopes to be passed on to me.
2. Mother admitted [or more like announced] to my grandmother over the phone.
3. I know her. I know my Mother.
Where is the integrity? She's sweet enough to have denied me of allowance for the past year. And now she wants to keep the money which is meant for me. Such a sweet mother! :-)
My remaining money also went to sleeping pills, after a whole week of not sleeping. [I swear. Not a single wink] And during the time when 'Aamir and I separated, I'd spent my remaining money on alcohol. Fuck that!
I've also gotten really pissed at 'Aamir recently, for spending so much to feed his gaming. We've been meeting lesser so it's a good way to save up some money, but with him gaming 24/7... Sigh. I can't help but worry for his finances as well.
Alright, well, I've been looking for a job okay? I have an interview tomorrow, for some retail job, with my best friend Siying. In sha Allah I will get this job, because I really don't want to burden my aunt and grandma anymore. I'm so useless staying here at home so I might as well go out and look for money to support myself.
Okay that's it for now. Since I don't have any readers at all now, this new link being a secret and shit, the pressure from society is off and I can keep my posts short and sweet, whoop whoop. Though I'm still considering if I should start posting pictures in here again.
As you may know, I've not been getting any allowance from anyone for this whole year. It was fine at first because I had a job, right to the point where I couldn't handle my lady boss anymore and quit right after I finally stood up for myself. It was also my exams period and she wouldn't allow me to work just one day a week, although she had mentioned so many times that she would understand if I had to. [Full story here or here but whatever]
Well, I managed to stock up on my finances during Hari Raya, so that went well for a while. Of course, there was something called lunch which I had to provide myself for, and I, embarrassingly, spent a lot on that. There were also movies to watch with the prince and books to read and transport fees... Don't blame me for my declining finances.
So a while back I actually discovered that I don't have to pay for my school fees anymore. My aunt had managed to apply for some Mendaki thing, so I'm really thankful for that, Alhamdullilah. Because of this, I feel bad for accepting anymore money from my aunt so that's why I decided to juggle my own finances. I'm not getting allowance from her.
My parents have obviously washed their hands off of me. I've not gotten a single cent from them for the past 9 months now. Not even when I asked, not even when they knew I was going to start in tertiary education soon. I didn't mind, really I didn't. But this is what pissed me off...
During Hari Raya, my father's many siblings had already set my envelopes of money for me. I'm not sure what the English word is, but you know 'kirim'? Yes, my paternal aunties and uncles and some other relatives had passed money to Mother, to be passed on to me as 'kirim'. As I'd expected, she decided to keep this money for herself.
I know this, because
1. I asked my little brother. Yes, he did receive my envelopes to be passed on to me.
2. Mother admitted [or more like announced] to my grandmother over the phone.
3. I know her. I know my Mother.
Where is the integrity? She's sweet enough to have denied me of allowance for the past year. And now she wants to keep the money which is meant for me. Such a sweet mother! :-)
My remaining money also went to sleeping pills, after a whole week of not sleeping. [I swear. Not a single wink] And during the time when 'Aamir and I separated, I'd spent my remaining money on alcohol. Fuck that!
I've also gotten really pissed at 'Aamir recently, for spending so much to feed his gaming. We've been meeting lesser so it's a good way to save up some money, but with him gaming 24/7... Sigh. I can't help but worry for his finances as well.
Alright, well, I've been looking for a job okay? I have an interview tomorrow, for some retail job, with my best friend Siying. In sha Allah I will get this job, because I really don't want to burden my aunt and grandma anymore. I'm so useless staying here at home so I might as well go out and look for money to support myself.
Okay that's it for now. Since I don't have any readers at all now, this new link being a secret and shit, the pressure from society is off and I can keep my posts short and sweet, whoop whoop. Though I'm still considering if I should start posting pictures in here again.
Sunday, September 08, 2013
As long as the prince is happy.
Every time I screw something up, the first thing I'd do would be to write. That's why I'm here right now.
I've always hurt the prince. I know this, because afterwards I will try to make him happy again. My secret is as you've expected... When he's angry, I write. A long text, a diary entry, a blog post... I just write to prove my point to him that I will always fight like this for him.
I know I may not be a darling everyday. But that's just what makes us; whenever I'm being mean, or angry, or just scowling, the first thing he'd do is irritate me. I really love the way he annoys me, and I may seem really pissed sometimes but actually, most of the time I'm happy he's like this. Maybe I just love this side of him so much that I scowl on purpose just to bring it out.
On the other hand, when he's pissed at me, I'll always try my damndest to cheer him up. I may babble with my stories, I may send an excessive amount of texts and emoticons, but fuck it, it's all for him to be happy again. When he's angry in person though, I must admit I get scared. I dare not talk to him, and, well. Idk. The most I can do is hold his hand until he feels better.
I can see that he's getting tired of me. But I'm trying so hard to not feel that way about him either. I've promised him never to leave; and because of this promise, I am never letting him go, even if he claims it will make him happy. That's why the only thing I can do now is to be there and assure him that I will be a better girlfriend not in the future, but starting now.
Back in the days when he was trying so hard to get my attention and to make me happy, he told me he would never give up on me. And he never did. He always did his best to make me smile, to change me, to make time for me. It's my turn to do something for him. He's given up, but I never will. I would always fight for him. Always.
I've always hurt the prince. I know this, because afterwards I will try to make him happy again. My secret is as you've expected... When he's angry, I write. A long text, a diary entry, a blog post... I just write to prove my point to him that I will always fight like this for him.
I know I may not be a darling everyday. But that's just what makes us; whenever I'm being mean, or angry, or just scowling, the first thing he'd do is irritate me. I really love the way he annoys me, and I may seem really pissed sometimes but actually, most of the time I'm happy he's like this. Maybe I just love this side of him so much that I scowl on purpose just to bring it out.
On the other hand, when he's pissed at me, I'll always try my damndest to cheer him up. I may babble with my stories, I may send an excessive amount of texts and emoticons, but fuck it, it's all for him to be happy again. When he's angry in person though, I must admit I get scared. I dare not talk to him, and, well. Idk. The most I can do is hold his hand until he feels better.
I can see that he's getting tired of me. But I'm trying so hard to not feel that way about him either. I've promised him never to leave; and because of this promise, I am never letting him go, even if he claims it will make him happy. That's why the only thing I can do now is to be there and assure him that I will be a better girlfriend not in the future, but starting now.
Back in the days when he was trying so hard to get my attention and to make me happy, he told me he would never give up on me. And he never did. He always did his best to make me smile, to change me, to make time for me. It's my turn to do something for him. He's given up, but I never will. I would always fight for him. Always.
Saturday, September 07, 2013
Hiding out for the time being.
Hello.
Yes. I am still blogging. But not on 109blackaxes anymore. I've changed my link, though just slightly. I'm taking a long break from the eyes of others. I think Siying would be the only one to see this. I don't know if I should let 'Aamir know as well.
I met him yesterday, and no, everything was fine between us. Just that, he told me, that one of his classmates from secondary school had read my blog and told Luke that I was an 'attention-seeker'. I know that I somewhat am, but, for someone who had followed me on Twitter and said "i love reading her blog, it's so relatable", I can't help but feel betrayed by this person whom I had wanted to consider a friend.
I've lost quite a number of followers during my tipsy tweeting. There's also something called stats and yes, I have been losing page views. I'm not sure who even reads my blog anymore. I've never had many readers to begin with. And deep inside I know I'm not that welcomed by the society... I know nobody would read this blog as long as I am the one who writes it.
Part of me also tells me that I'm not well-received by others because they don't think I belong. Like I'd said, I'm always hanging in between. This includes the society thing. Am I part of the Malay society or not? I'm gonna babble here. But no, I don't think I can be considered part of it because I hang out with more Chinese people, and I also don't talk or act like a 'typical Malay', in my opinion... Or do I? Sigh.
Or maybe because my brother already has a place in the Malay society, and that there aren't any more spaces for a little sister. Idk. I can go on with the possibilities of why people don't read my blog, but the bottom line is that I just don't belong in this society.
Sometimes I wish I'm a Chinese here. Sometimes I think it's because there are so few Malays in Singapore that everyone can so easily decide who belongs and who doesn't, just by making one glance into the society. Maybe that's why there aren't any Malay Singaporean bloggers. Chinese Singaporeans seem to be more open and less judgmental. Idk. Am I making sense? I think I am. But maybe not to you.
It also isn't helping not to have a fashion sense. Like I'd said; you either cover up, or you don't. And with every girl in this country following current trends, nobody is going to read my blog, knowing that I can't do any fashion shit or help them style shit. You know what I mean???
What the fuck am I babbling though? Yes, I know I have no place in society. That's why I'm just going to hide out here if I want to continue doing what I love... Yes. Hell yes I want to continue blogging and writing. I'm just taking this break from other people. [Though I just said nobody reads it anyway... But nevermind. Sigh sigh]
I've been spending the day discovering fashion Youtubers from outside of Singapore, and I'm really envious of their ability to dress themselves up. I'm not only short of confidence, but I also have neither money nor approval from the grandmother to dress however I want.
Just today I told her that I wanted to buy stockings so I could wear it with some dresses that I've never got to wear... And the first thing she said was, "NO. IT WOULD BE AN EYESORE." Oh grandma, the reason why I even want stockings is because I want to cover up my legs the way you want me to.
I'm close to wanting to return to Pasir Ris just so I could leave the house wearing what I want. I'd like to experiment too okay? I'd like to wear shorts and short skirts and sleeveless tops or sheer tops too. I live in Singapore damn it... I'd want to wear dresses without the stockings without waiting for rainy days to use as opportunity.
That's all for now I guess. For now, only Siying can read my entries. Well, I'm gonna use this to rant occasionally as well then. I hope nobody finds this. I just added two ii's at the back of my old link, but you know what they say: "The safest place is the most dangerous place." (;
Yes. I am still blogging. But not on 109blackaxes anymore. I've changed my link, though just slightly. I'm taking a long break from the eyes of others. I think Siying would be the only one to see this. I don't know if I should let 'Aamir know as well.
I met him yesterday, and no, everything was fine between us. Just that, he told me, that one of his classmates from secondary school had read my blog and told Luke that I was an 'attention-seeker'. I know that I somewhat am, but, for someone who had followed me on Twitter and said "i love reading her blog, it's so relatable", I can't help but feel betrayed by this person whom I had wanted to consider a friend.
I've lost quite a number of followers during my tipsy tweeting. There's also something called stats and yes, I have been losing page views. I'm not sure who even reads my blog anymore. I've never had many readers to begin with. And deep inside I know I'm not that welcomed by the society... I know nobody would read this blog as long as I am the one who writes it.
Part of me also tells me that I'm not well-received by others because they don't think I belong. Like I'd said, I'm always hanging in between. This includes the society thing. Am I part of the Malay society or not? I'm gonna babble here. But no, I don't think I can be considered part of it because I hang out with more Chinese people, and I also don't talk or act like a 'typical Malay', in my opinion... Or do I? Sigh.
Or maybe because my brother already has a place in the Malay society, and that there aren't any more spaces for a little sister. Idk. I can go on with the possibilities of why people don't read my blog, but the bottom line is that I just don't belong in this society.
Sometimes I wish I'm a Chinese here. Sometimes I think it's because there are so few Malays in Singapore that everyone can so easily decide who belongs and who doesn't, just by making one glance into the society. Maybe that's why there aren't any Malay Singaporean bloggers. Chinese Singaporeans seem to be more open and less judgmental. Idk. Am I making sense? I think I am. But maybe not to you.
It also isn't helping not to have a fashion sense. Like I'd said; you either cover up, or you don't. And with every girl in this country following current trends, nobody is going to read my blog, knowing that I can't do any fashion shit or help them style shit. You know what I mean???
What the fuck am I babbling though? Yes, I know I have no place in society. That's why I'm just going to hide out here if I want to continue doing what I love... Yes. Hell yes I want to continue blogging and writing. I'm just taking this break from other people. [Though I just said nobody reads it anyway... But nevermind. Sigh sigh]
I've been spending the day discovering fashion Youtubers from outside of Singapore, and I'm really envious of their ability to dress themselves up. I'm not only short of confidence, but I also have neither money nor approval from the grandmother to dress however I want.
Just today I told her that I wanted to buy stockings so I could wear it with some dresses that I've never got to wear... And the first thing she said was, "NO. IT WOULD BE AN EYESORE." Oh grandma, the reason why I even want stockings is because I want to cover up my legs the way you want me to.
I'm close to wanting to return to Pasir Ris just so I could leave the house wearing what I want. I'd like to experiment too okay? I'd like to wear shorts and short skirts and sleeveless tops or sheer tops too. I live in Singapore damn it... I'd want to wear dresses without the stockings without waiting for rainy days to use as opportunity.
That's all for now I guess. For now, only Siying can read my entries. Well, I'm gonna use this to rant occasionally as well then. I hope nobody finds this. I just added two ii's at the back of my old link, but you know what they say: "The safest place is the most dangerous place." (;
Wednesday, September 04, 2013
Why it's difficult for me to dress up.
*ahem* Hi. I know I've already blogged today, but, well, I was bored. And if you really love doing something you wouldn't mind doing it many times, yeah? (;
So I've always been writing. If you're a loyal reader of mine, you'd know this. If you're a good friend of mine who have been close with me since forever, then you'd know that I used to post pictures all the time before I started to get serious on all the words.
Well I have news for you. Still no pictures for you today! I'm sorry okay but I really look up to my blog and I don't want to stain it with anymore pictures of myself. You can however follow me on Instagram @ _109TH because why the fuck not? And I will notice if you follow me, and I will follow back, because that's how unpopular I am.
I'm here now to talk about something I lack... Fashion! As most of you know, I'm always wearing skinny jeans and cardigans. I know skinnies have been out of date for years now but I really don't care and I honestly love wearing them. I boast that I actually have 10 pairs of that shit with me here in Paya Lebar, although I don't wear about 3 of them anymore because I've been wearing the new ones ever since I started school.
I also absolutely love cardigans, and I have four of that although I'm always wearing the pink one because it matches with my tshirts easily. And yes... I have a ton of t-shirts, mostly graphic ones from Ministry of Clothing.
Alright, so the real problem is... I wish I can do something to my sense of clothing. Okay, I have the intention to change how I dress and shit, but you have no idea about all the problems that can come with this simple longing. We all know I lack confidence, that's one thing. We also know I don't get any allowance from anyone and that I'd rather pay for food instead of all that expensive clothes. Yes.
Another problem? My grandma wouldn't let me out of the house in something short. I have a few skirts at my old house in Pasir Ris, and I've worn them quite plenty of times last year. Also a drastic change because I've liked skinnies since years before. They're slightly above the knee but to my grandmother, of course that's short. If I have them here I honestly would have no problem wearing them out if it isn't for my granny.
Also, I don't have any wardrobe here in Paya Lebar. Most of my clothes are crashed onto a bag, with my tshirts and jeans stacked on top of that. I do have a few clothes which are not t-shirts, but I've honestly no idea where they are!!! My granny has a habit of cleaning my belongings without telling me, and shifting things around. And when I ask her if she's seen this shirt, or that shirt, she would have no idea.
I've been looking for my Cotton On sheer top which I bought for 40 bucks about a week before I started school in April. And yes, that shit is missing now. I'm not angry at my granny, but sometimes I wish I have a wardrobe of my own that was mine, with the understanding that no one else is to touch my clothes. *sob*
And you know, sometimes I wish I can go out without my cardigan. I love the sun. But I get scared of the cold, and I'm always wearing my cardigan "just in case". Just in case what??? Just in case it rains and I would need something to keep me warm. Just in case we're going to watch a movie and it's cold in. Just in case we're going someplace with nicely dressed teenagers so that I won't look sloppy in just a t-shirt. Yes.
And footwear! I've been wearing sneakers all my life. I have a pair of wedges back at Pasir Ris, which my cousin bought for me but I'd only managed to wear them once. I'm not only clumsy, but what for wear those if your boyfriend is of the same height as you? No... it doesn't feel right. And I already feel like a monster beside petite girls. What's more, I wouldn't want to stand out that much from the crowd.
So you see the problems I have in dressing differently other than my self-esteem?? Yes. It's that tough for me to dress myself up.
Take a trip to EW1 tomorrow to see my secondary school teachers? Yes? No?
So I've always been writing. If you're a loyal reader of mine, you'd know this. If you're a good friend of mine who have been close with me since forever, then you'd know that I used to post pictures all the time before I started to get serious on all the words.
Well I have news for you. Still no pictures for you today! I'm sorry okay but I really look up to my blog and I don't want to stain it with anymore pictures of myself. You can however follow me on Instagram @ _109TH because why the fuck not? And I will notice if you follow me, and I will follow back, because that's how unpopular I am.
I'm here now to talk about something I lack... Fashion! As most of you know, I'm always wearing skinny jeans and cardigans. I know skinnies have been out of date for years now but I really don't care and I honestly love wearing them. I boast that I actually have 10 pairs of that shit with me here in Paya Lebar, although I don't wear about 3 of them anymore because I've been wearing the new ones ever since I started school.
I also absolutely love cardigans, and I have four of that although I'm always wearing the pink one because it matches with my tshirts easily. And yes... I have a ton of t-shirts, mostly graphic ones from Ministry of Clothing.
Alright, so the real problem is... I wish I can do something to my sense of clothing. Okay, I have the intention to change how I dress and shit, but you have no idea about all the problems that can come with this simple longing. We all know I lack confidence, that's one thing. We also know I don't get any allowance from anyone and that I'd rather pay for food instead of all that expensive clothes. Yes.
Another problem? My grandma wouldn't let me out of the house in something short. I have a few skirts at my old house in Pasir Ris, and I've worn them quite plenty of times last year. Also a drastic change because I've liked skinnies since years before. They're slightly above the knee but to my grandmother, of course that's short. If I have them here I honestly would have no problem wearing them out if it isn't for my granny.
Also, I don't have any wardrobe here in Paya Lebar. Most of my clothes are crashed onto a bag, with my tshirts and jeans stacked on top of that. I do have a few clothes which are not t-shirts, but I've honestly no idea where they are!!! My granny has a habit of cleaning my belongings without telling me, and shifting things around. And when I ask her if she's seen this shirt, or that shirt, she would have no idea.
I've been looking for my Cotton On sheer top which I bought for 40 bucks about a week before I started school in April. And yes, that shit is missing now. I'm not angry at my granny, but sometimes I wish I have a wardrobe of my own that was mine, with the understanding that no one else is to touch my clothes. *sob*
And you know, sometimes I wish I can go out without my cardigan. I love the sun. But I get scared of the cold, and I'm always wearing my cardigan "just in case". Just in case what??? Just in case it rains and I would need something to keep me warm. Just in case we're going to watch a movie and it's cold in. Just in case we're going someplace with nicely dressed teenagers so that I won't look sloppy in just a t-shirt. Yes.
And footwear! I've been wearing sneakers all my life. I have a pair of wedges back at Pasir Ris, which my cousin bought for me but I'd only managed to wear them once. I'm not only clumsy, but what for wear those if your boyfriend is of the same height as you? No... it doesn't feel right. And I already feel like a monster beside petite girls. What's more, I wouldn't want to stand out that much from the crowd.
So you see the problems I have in dressing differently other than my self-esteem?? Yes. It's that tough for me to dress myself up.
Take a trip to EW1 tomorrow to see my secondary school teachers? Yes? No?
No, I was not drunk.
Like I'd expected, September didn't go off to a good start. First things first, the prince left me. Of course, the prince would never part with his duties to fall in love with a servant... That's what I thought.
To relieve the tension, I bought a shitload of alcohol and drowned away my sorrows. Or at least I tried to. At first I wanted to smoke but my dear friends were deeply against it because of health issues. Siying and Shushan would rather have me drink, although Sabrina was against that because she and I are Muslims.
At that point of time I really didn't care about anything. I just wanted to do something wrong. As if the mistake I had made against the prince was not enough.
I was a mess on Monday afternoon. The worst part about getting tipsy for me is the fact that I can remember everything I am doing. The first gulp I tried to take went into my nose instead, for some reason. I remember being forced to eat; Siying went off to get me epok-epok from Old Chang Kee, although I'd rather the chicken wing and I remember saying so.
"Take 3 bites that make me happy and then you can drink." she said, while grabbing my newly bought bottle and hiding it behind her back.
By the way, I have low alcohol tolerance. Just a few sips can make me go insane. Maybe it's something to do with my emotions as well, but whatever. At least I don't puke.
I ate the burning hot epok-epok and it was delicious but I couldn't enjoy it much. I was anticipating my alcoholic reward, and I was still emotional about the prince. I had snot and tears all over my food but I still munched on it. I was a wreck! I was angry at myself for crying; "the prince told you never to cry anymore!" the voice in my head kept screaming at me.
When I finished everything, every bottle of vodka and rum and shit like that, I started to babble and spill my heart to the girls. [Sabrina left early because she didn't want me to drink in front of her but she didn't want to restrict me from drinking.] I couldn't control my tears, and I remember so clearly burying my head on the steps of the stairs and bawling like a baby, and refusing to get up.
The girls said I wasn't walking straight either. This I deny, because I'm very sure I was walking just fine. I remember! I even managed to go to the toilet on my own.
Shushan brought me to EW1 Pasir Ris, where I went to Cotton On and bought myself shades. I wanted to cover my eyes because they were puffy from crying and from my lack of sleep. I was hideous. Who cares that it was nighttime and people were staring at me? At least nobody would recognise me, and for me to be in that town, shades were essential to conceal my identity. Whatever.
I made my way to the Cold Storage at NS9 Woodlands on Tuesday afternoon. I wanted to get vodka but honestly I was scared. There wasn't anyone to take care of me, and Shushan was on the phone warning me against it too. But I thought of the prince, and I got angry, and I just took whatever I wanted and headed to the counter.
Thanks to my navigational memory I remembered the way to Woodlands Waterfront. Okay fine so I forgot what bus to take at first [but I remembered the berth, it's the first berth that you turn left to when you go down the escalator that's on the right side of the lift if you put your back to the entrance of Causeway Point. Navigational memory.] but my fondness of looking out the window helped me remember where to alight.
I walked right at the end, and thankfully for me there weren't many people there. I remember hearing breathing sounds on my left when I was sitting there, but I thought nothing of it. I've gotten used to it. I looked at the Zon hotel, remembering how I used to sit at the windowsill all day despite my mother telling me to go out and drink posh coffee at the Starbucks or something.
Just a half bottle down and I was already getting emotional. I started to cry. I sat there for hours, just dazing, and I took out my diary with the intention of telling it things which I can no longer tell the prince. But I didn't have the strength. Looking back at my poor diary now, two of its pages have been scrawled all over with my kiddish handwriting.
I remember calling a few people but refusing to talk when they answered. I only managed to make a sound when Mel answered her call, although it was just a mass of ugly sobs. I told her where I was, and I told her what bus I took and what was the last thing I had seen outside the window before I alighted. I really thank God for this navigational gift. [though I'm sorry for drinking, but that's another story.]
The worst part of yesterday was how I still managed to tweet. Okay I was staying away from my timeline because I was sure people were gonna start indirects at me, and I also refused to reply anyone on my interactions. But I was tweeting away, fine at first but typos appearing a few minutes later. Forgive me for that if you had witnessed it.
Members of the public had actually came over to me twice and asked me if I was okay. The Chinese jogger pointed behind me and said with a smile, "I think you should look there instead. There's a better scenery." and he was right. The sun was setting. But because of my metaphorical habit, I got sad about it. I remembered my fear of nighttime, and I forgot that things don't last forever.
That was when Mel came. I refused to look at her because I was so fucking ugly and I couldn't stop crying when I felt just her presence. I told her everything from my heart, and it was better for her because, being his classmate and a best friend, she had already heard the prince's side of the story.
"He's not your world," she said, and I hung my head, as she continued, "No, girl, hold your head up and look at me. He's not your world."
"He is. Everything I do, every small thing I do, it's all for him. I really love him..." I mumbled, in between sobs and sniffles. "He liked that gummy lollipop from Times, and he announced that he wanted to eat one of that everyday. If I don't love him, I wouldn't have remembered that one sentence. I wouldn't have spent my last few days looking for a box of that so he could really eat one of that everyday." and I put my head against the fence and started bawling again.
I told her everything I've ever done for him. And how I've always kept my promises to him, not immediately but always eventually. I admitted my mistake, but I explained it. How I'd wanted to leave sometimes but still stayed because I learnt how to think properly before making such decisions.
Yes, I really remember everything. I remember putting on shades when walking back from the jetty, because I was convinced everyone was looking at me and laughing. I remember wanting to recite the East West and Circle Lines to Mel. I remember laughing for no reason. But most of all I remember Mel holding my hand as we walked out together.
We took the bus back to Woodlands, where we got a cab at the taxi stand. I remember insisting on taking the second cab because the one in front was the expensive one. I told the driver where my home was, and I laid myself down on Mel's lap. I was tired.
I remember everything. Memories are easy to emboss into your head, especially if you have your five senses. And no... I was not drunk.
Back home, I drank a whole bottle of iced water, and I swear plain water has never tasted so good. I took a shower and took Wudhu, and talked to God for a while.
Siying asked me to re-install Viber, because the prince and I were having trouble communicating through Whatsapp, so I did. We talked it out, and, tadah. The prince and I are fine as a feline now. Although the both of us are still pretty much shaken, almost traumatised.
I learnt something through this ordeal. I've always thought "Nobody cares unless you are beautiful or dead." It's true to a certain extent, but you've also got another way of making people care: believe you are beautiful; or do something inspirational with yourself that makes people remember you while you are alive. For me, it's writing. I'm still working on that but I'll make sure people know me for my passion and not through death.
And for those who are suicidal, there are lots of humans on this Earth who care. If I had decided to kill myself back there on Woodlands Waterfront, I'd probably make it onto the news. What would the Chinese jogger and the Malay guy who asked if I was okay think if they see that? They'd be shattered. They were that close to saving you, but they didn't. How do you think they'd feel? It'd haunt these people who cared.
I'm going to publish this post now before I start to babble.
To relieve the tension, I bought a shitload of alcohol and drowned away my sorrows. Or at least I tried to. At first I wanted to smoke but my dear friends were deeply against it because of health issues. Siying and Shushan would rather have me drink, although Sabrina was against that because she and I are Muslims.
At that point of time I really didn't care about anything. I just wanted to do something wrong. As if the mistake I had made against the prince was not enough.
I was a mess on Monday afternoon. The worst part about getting tipsy for me is the fact that I can remember everything I am doing. The first gulp I tried to take went into my nose instead, for some reason. I remember being forced to eat; Siying went off to get me epok-epok from Old Chang Kee, although I'd rather the chicken wing and I remember saying so.
"Take 3 bites that make me happy and then you can drink." she said, while grabbing my newly bought bottle and hiding it behind her back.
By the way, I have low alcohol tolerance. Just a few sips can make me go insane. Maybe it's something to do with my emotions as well, but whatever. At least I don't puke.
I ate the burning hot epok-epok and it was delicious but I couldn't enjoy it much. I was anticipating my alcoholic reward, and I was still emotional about the prince. I had snot and tears all over my food but I still munched on it. I was a wreck! I was angry at myself for crying; "the prince told you never to cry anymore!" the voice in my head kept screaming at me.
When I finished everything, every bottle of vodka and rum and shit like that, I started to babble and spill my heart to the girls. [Sabrina left early because she didn't want me to drink in front of her but she didn't want to restrict me from drinking.] I couldn't control my tears, and I remember so clearly burying my head on the steps of the stairs and bawling like a baby, and refusing to get up.
The girls said I wasn't walking straight either. This I deny, because I'm very sure I was walking just fine. I remember! I even managed to go to the toilet on my own.
Shushan brought me to EW1 Pasir Ris, where I went to Cotton On and bought myself shades. I wanted to cover my eyes because they were puffy from crying and from my lack of sleep. I was hideous. Who cares that it was nighttime and people were staring at me? At least nobody would recognise me, and for me to be in that town, shades were essential to conceal my identity. Whatever.
I made my way to the Cold Storage at NS9 Woodlands on Tuesday afternoon. I wanted to get vodka but honestly I was scared. There wasn't anyone to take care of me, and Shushan was on the phone warning me against it too. But I thought of the prince, and I got angry, and I just took whatever I wanted and headed to the counter.
Thanks to my navigational memory I remembered the way to Woodlands Waterfront. Okay fine so I forgot what bus to take at first [but I remembered the berth, it's the first berth that you turn left to when you go down the escalator that's on the right side of the lift if you put your back to the entrance of Causeway Point. Navigational memory.] but my fondness of looking out the window helped me remember where to alight.
I walked right at the end, and thankfully for me there weren't many people there. I remember hearing breathing sounds on my left when I was sitting there, but I thought nothing of it. I've gotten used to it. I looked at the Zon hotel, remembering how I used to sit at the windowsill all day despite my mother telling me to go out and drink posh coffee at the Starbucks or something.
Just a half bottle down and I was already getting emotional. I started to cry. I sat there for hours, just dazing, and I took out my diary with the intention of telling it things which I can no longer tell the prince. But I didn't have the strength. Looking back at my poor diary now, two of its pages have been scrawled all over with my kiddish handwriting.
I remember calling a few people but refusing to talk when they answered. I only managed to make a sound when Mel answered her call, although it was just a mass of ugly sobs. I told her where I was, and I told her what bus I took and what was the last thing I had seen outside the window before I alighted. I really thank God for this navigational gift. [though I'm sorry for drinking, but that's another story.]
The worst part of yesterday was how I still managed to tweet. Okay I was staying away from my timeline because I was sure people were gonna start indirects at me, and I also refused to reply anyone on my interactions. But I was tweeting away, fine at first but typos appearing a few minutes later. Forgive me for that if you had witnessed it.
Members of the public had actually came over to me twice and asked me if I was okay. The Chinese jogger pointed behind me and said with a smile, "I think you should look there instead. There's a better scenery." and he was right. The sun was setting. But because of my metaphorical habit, I got sad about it. I remembered my fear of nighttime, and I forgot that things don't last forever.
That was when Mel came. I refused to look at her because I was so fucking ugly and I couldn't stop crying when I felt just her presence. I told her everything from my heart, and it was better for her because, being his classmate and a best friend, she had already heard the prince's side of the story.
"He's not your world," she said, and I hung my head, as she continued, "No, girl, hold your head up and look at me. He's not your world."
"He is. Everything I do, every small thing I do, it's all for him. I really love him..." I mumbled, in between sobs and sniffles. "He liked that gummy lollipop from Times, and he announced that he wanted to eat one of that everyday. If I don't love him, I wouldn't have remembered that one sentence. I wouldn't have spent my last few days looking for a box of that so he could really eat one of that everyday." and I put my head against the fence and started bawling again.
I told her everything I've ever done for him. And how I've always kept my promises to him, not immediately but always eventually. I admitted my mistake, but I explained it. How I'd wanted to leave sometimes but still stayed because I learnt how to think properly before making such decisions.
Yes, I really remember everything. I remember putting on shades when walking back from the jetty, because I was convinced everyone was looking at me and laughing. I remember wanting to recite the East West and Circle Lines to Mel. I remember laughing for no reason. But most of all I remember Mel holding my hand as we walked out together.
We took the bus back to Woodlands, where we got a cab at the taxi stand. I remember insisting on taking the second cab because the one in front was the expensive one. I told the driver where my home was, and I laid myself down on Mel's lap. I was tired.
I remember everything. Memories are easy to emboss into your head, especially if you have your five senses. And no... I was not drunk.
Back home, I drank a whole bottle of iced water, and I swear plain water has never tasted so good. I took a shower and took Wudhu, and talked to God for a while.
Siying asked me to re-install Viber, because the prince and I were having trouble communicating through Whatsapp, so I did. We talked it out, and, tadah. The prince and I are fine as a feline now. Although the both of us are still pretty much shaken, almost traumatised.
I learnt something through this ordeal. I've always thought "Nobody cares unless you are beautiful or dead." It's true to a certain extent, but you've also got another way of making people care: believe you are beautiful; or do something inspirational with yourself that makes people remember you while you are alive. For me, it's writing. I'm still working on that but I'll make sure people know me for my passion and not through death.
And for those who are suicidal, there are lots of humans on this Earth who care. If I had decided to kill myself back there on Woodlands Waterfront, I'd probably make it onto the news. What would the Chinese jogger and the Malay guy who asked if I was okay think if they see that? They'd be shattered. They were that close to saving you, but they didn't. How do you think they'd feel? It'd haunt these people who cared.
I'm going to publish this post now before I start to babble.
Sunday, September 01, 2013
I've never belonged anywhere.
I've never belonged anywhere.
Honestly, even when the girls have accepted me back, sometimes I feel like I don't have the rights to be in their circle. I had, after all, abandoned them for more than a year, after four years of friendship. Where does that put me? My action was heartless.
And why did I skip school a lot when I left this clique of girlfriends? Because I didn't have friends, obviously because the class was already full of their own cliques. I never belonged anywhere. Even when I had spent my time in Sec 4 recording our memories, even when the guys and the other girls from the class had approached me to be in the camera, I was not part of them. In 2012, I was just a classmate who had decided to isolate herself.
There was also a time when I realised that I was close to a social outcast, even when I had tried so hard to be normal when I went into tertiary education. Even my closest friends managed to get along with the rest of the class; and, deep inside, I knew that everyone accepted everyone except for me. They rejected me, whether or not I was being myself.
Even when I hung out in the usual clique of five, I obviously didn't belong. Three different races together, but we were a strength of odd number, and one of us was bound to be left out. It was always me. Maybe because I was the only Malay. Where did I stand? Nowhere. I was invisible.
When the prince brings me out with his friends, I'm always more than happy because it means a lot if your other half introduces you. And don't get me wrong, I really enjoy the company of his tertiary mates, but again, despite knowing they accept me, I am well aware that I don't belong.
Not to mention my trips to Geylang, especially if I'm alone. During Ramadan I frequently headed to Geylang, and yes, I feel like I don't belong. I've always been mistaken for a Chinese, and due to my anxiety, I'm always thinking that the Malays around me would be wondering of my presence there.
And what about my fashion sense? I'm not a fashionista, definitely not the kind who follows current trends. But I love wearing skinnies and cardigans, something which covers my arms and legs. Where does that put me in this society? It's not like I wear headscarves either. You either cover up, or you don't. I'm stuck in the middle. I don't belong anywhere.
Back when I was still a Pasir Ris girl, it never felt like I belonged in my family either. My parents were very open people, always making their respective workplaces lively. And while my brothers have always been, well, boys, either on their PS3 or at the void deck playing soccer, I would sit in a corner quietly reading a book.
Right from my childhood I've always been best friends with a girl cousin from my father's big family. He had many siblings, which means we had a lot of cousins. Among all of them, the closest to me were of course those of the nearest age group. The girl cousin and a boy cousin are of the same age, while another boy cousin is a year younger than us. It was almost always the four of us.
But maybe because the girl cousin was the link. If she wasn't able to attend a family gathering, or if her family hadn't turned up yet, I would remain in a corner minding my own business while the two boys sat at the other side of the house talking with each other. It was only after the girl cousin came that she would pull the four of us together.
The boy cousin of the same age just followed me on Instagram today, and after doing a bit of stalking, I realised I was right. He had taken a picture with the girl and the other boy cousin, caption saying that they've always been his favourite cousins. I never belonged.
Never. Not anywhere.
Not a great post to start off the month, but whatever. To heck with it, nobody's going to read this anyway. I'll write tomorrow if I have anything to say about the oh-so-joyous month of September.