Walking away but keeping the memories

I noticed that I have a tendency to apply situations and thoughts from my past relationship to current situations - in and out of relationship. I would almost involuntarily recall and compare current situations with the past, which confuses and intrigues me at the same time.


Whenever I did bring up something of that nature, my mother would tell me: "just forget about it". That's the 'essential' part of healing - forgetting, or rather, letting go of the emotions that come with those memories.


The thing is ... one doesn't just forget stuff that used to be the definition of their entire life at one point.


I've had a few exs approach me privately on social media lately, and the tagline for the conversations were more or less this:

Him:
I regret ending us. You were one of the best things that happened to me, and I could never really get to that level of comfort with anyone since.

To be honest, I no longer see any point in beating each other up at this point, after "us" had happened so many years before. We made mistakes, we had other priorities at the time, and the state of mind that we were in has brought us to where we are today, whether we like it or not.


We've moved on for so long, there's no point in digging everything up and settling scores - we'll continue living with the good memories and the bad, and cherishing that experience.


I suppose all this is easier to see objectively now that I'm in a much better state of mind than I was several years ago, and that I'm so much happier with my life now compared to the past.


While writing this, I realized that I have my claws dug into the ground, refusing to walk away from that roller coaster I called a relationship - torture and exhilaration. It was good and/or painful while it lasted, but we have walked away from it and shelved it for so long that there's no point in constantly wading through that lake of murky memories.


I've been desperately holding on to the memories and emotions to either validate my past and current psychological struggles, or to make sure I'm dating the right guy now. It sounds trivial, I know, but I was so convinced that he was the one at that time that I overlooked all the red flags. Or more accurately, I chose to "accept" them as the "for worse" part of a relationship - you win some, you lose some.


I would constantly bring up scenarios in the past relationship when they were relevant, with a clear intent to further push his name into the dirt and make him the demon that destroyed my sense of self, as well as our relationship.


For example, when catching up with people I haven't talked to in a while, I would mention how I gained a significant amount of weight because of their relationship, intending to tarnish his name even before they knew him. I would usually be met with a response along the lines of "weight gain is your own fault". While I disagree, and think that the circumstances and emotional fatigue at the time contributed to my weight gain, it does push me out of the bubble to see what I'm doing is in fact just toxic to myself.


I should, just as I have done with my other past relationships, walk away completely, allowing memories to come back if they do and analyze past situations objectively from an almost third-person perspective, as I do with old relationships now, but to also no longer immerse and force myself to hold on to grudges and memories.


There's no need for me to constantly hold on to everything that he did to us, just because I think that he is the one who ruined us... and me. I have so much more now, and the growth curve seems so much better than it did even just a year ago.


But like I said: one does not just forget. Our memories and experiences make us who we are today. I don't delete memories on purpose because they are all that I am, and it's nice to look back once in a while to see how we've grown, and how much more we can grow from here on out.


The memories and words and experiences will stay with me forever... I just strive to no longer look at them through rose-tinted glasses anymore.

Make-up comfort with "burnt cherries"

About 3 years ago, I just felt like playing with some makeup and ended up with a pretty intense look. While I was super proud of the darker-than-usual smokey eye I did, the real kicker here was the lips. My lips are fairly thick, and slathering on a dark cherry lip color over a layer of black eyeliner pencil made for a pretty goth look.

A post shared by Kellie Low 紫倩 (@yukari_ivankov) on May 8, 2014 at 1:52am PDT

It wasn't Halloween, and all I went out in was a casual maxi dress. I don't remember much but the feeling of rejection that my ex gave me at the time for "subjecting him to scrutiny" for going out with him for lunch at the local McDonald's.


Heavy make-up here is typically only worn by beauty industry employees, or "club girls". The color black can almost only exist as eyeliner and mascara. Black nails have only begun to gain traction as a sophisticated color alongside nude, pastel, and classic manicure colors.

A post shared by Kellie Low 紫倩 (@yukari_ivankov) on May 12, 2014 at 11:07am PDT

I would've probably been spared the criticism of being too bold if I skipped the black liner on the lips. Actually, I would have been spared all criticism if I was dead - one day you'll have to come to peace with the fact that everything you do will evoke criticism from someone - regardless of how good you felt about it.


Any black pencil would do, but it should preferably be a creamy one. I used a lipstick called Cherry Jubilee, hence why I call them "burnt cherries" sometimes the black pencil doesn't blend well with the lipstick and leaves patches of "charring" over the darker cherry color.

A post shared by Kellie Low 紫倩 (@yukari_ivankov) on Oct 31, 2017 at 9:59pm PDT

I consciously decided to recreate this look - particularly the lips - for Halloween of 2017. I wouldn't bring myself come up with a proper costume, but I figured that this would be enough of a shocker - and I was partially right.


I hadn't noticed how "far" I've come in terms of cosmetic comfort until I actually dug up the photos of that old make-up. My lipstick application skill still sucks, though - I almost never use lipstick, and this particular lipstick is hell to work with because it feathers and smears quite easily.


One thing to note, though, is that my eye shape has changed since I last did that look, and hence how I do a smokey eye is completely different.


I had semi-hooded lids in the past, so for any color to be visible, application had to be almost to the brow to get the "smokey" effect that I wanted to achieve. And I was hell-bent on perfecting brush application and blending techniques, typically obsessing over the precision and blending so much that I would spend more than maybe an hour to "perfect" the application.

Image from sichenmakeupholic on Youtube

A few months after I originally did that look, I woke up from a night of crying with a "double eyelid" only on the right eye. For the record, Asian eyes are typically not just monolids and "double lids" - depending on the amount of skin and fat each person has on their lids, they can appear different. For the "double lids", there are two fairly prominent differences in eyelids: hooded, and double, with the main differences being how much lashline is visible when they eye is open.


The person who was fairly hesitant with using eyelid tape was suddenly "forced" into using it, but I found a specific eyelid tape from Daiso that worked very well, so I had that going for me.


However, this change in eyelid shape meant that the shadow "technique" that I had worked to master was now obsolete to a degree - I could now do fairly striking eye looks with even minimal application of dark shadows, since they were now more visible on the lid.


And because of this significant decrease in eye shadow that I need to use, I can now get away with being more sloppy with my application. Or the more accurate statement would be that I'm much more comfortable with being less serious with my make-up application. In the past, I would spent up to 2 hours doing a simple look; for the entire trip to Korea (post to be up later when I get around to it :D), I spent only 10 minutes each morning to put in my lenses, apply my skincare, and do my make-up.


And speaking of lenses, they now play a more crucial part of my make-up. In the past, I could go without lenses because the make-up itself was a key focal point - the shadow was much more intense because I learned American/Western style make-up instead of Asian/local (tons of videos on this topic on Youtube).


Now I rely almost solely on the lenses to give the make-up that extra pop. That's how subtle my shadow usage has become, if I use it at all. Overall I guess my make-up looks much more natural, but I might look more aesthetically striking? (I tend to gravitate towards using colored lenses with little to no enlarging effects)


What I'm trying to say here is... I'm really much more comfortable with going out without the whole shebang of make-up - it had to be a certain amount of make-up in a certain way before I would go out and feel good for the rest of the time I had the make-up on. Now it's more of a vibe where I can just plop on some brows and I'm good even if I accidentally rub off half a brow in the middle of the day.

And despite still being fairly into dark, bold looks, I find myself leaning more toward more subtle, feminine/classy looks that don't involve too many dark colors.


Tl;dr: compared to when I put on make-up during my youth, I'm much more comfortable with how my features have changed, and much more comfortable without being overly strict about how make-up must be done for me to be comfortable leaving the house.

A day to a government office

Sometimes it's hard to realize that a relationship is toxic when you're already reeling from so many different negative emotions at a time, but one of the general guidelines is that you always feel exhausted from trying to do and be so many things, but you're still not doing enough.


While this relationship has opened my eyes to how a healthy relationship looks like, it took one trip to a government office to just blow me away.


He needed to renew some documents, both of which can be done in the same building. For once, a drive to a government office to actually get proper stuff done and I wasn't behind the wheel. We set off after getting some banking stuff done, and there was a little mishap in terms of navigation (due to miscommunication), but we got there okay.


Approaching the counter, he got his number and we waited, and while we did, I scouted out the building for the other office that he would need to visit later.


All through the process of getting everything done, I mostly just sat and watched his blazer while playing mobile games. While he queued for the next number, I just sat and watched our stuff. I continued playing my mobile games, pausing a while to get some drinks from the vending machine, all the while people-watching and having relaxed conversation.


The stark difference here was this I wasn't expected to be the point of contact for everything that we did, and I wasn't expected to find out and remember what to do next and where to do it. There was even enough mental room to joke about registering for marriage right then and there to show my grandma who's so eager to "see all of us married with kids".


I never had this really relaxing, yet still mentally engaged "official" outing - with my mother, she took charge of everything so all I needed to do was be there and fill in the relevant forms; with my ex, it was always me stressing about where to go, what to say, how to say it, memorizing procedures, and being chastised for trying my best to get things done as smoothly as possible.


During this entire process, we joked about things, discussed possible goals and non-goals (stuff I/we probably won't want to do in the future), and made assumptions on why certain people looked the way they looked, or discussed how they dressed. Throughout the day, there wasn't any "your opinion is invalid"-oriented comments - it was equal conversation. I think this lady looks good enough as it is, perhaps he thinks that she could have paired her trousers with another blouse that was more plain to avoid clashing prints.


All this may also have been because I was no longer struggling with ill-fitting clothing, impossible sleeping times the previous night that made basic conversation almost impossible, and navigation to a place I was not familiar with. Not to mention the absence of the struggle and anxiety with talking to multiple strangers within the a time frame that I was intensely uncomfortable with.


And even after all was done, I didn't have to drive us home (though I volunteered to after lunch). The road that Waze led me to take was a familiar one, and while the passenger was also asleep, I didn't feel a blanketing sense of annoyance and irritation. The difference? I didn't have to drive us home, I chose to. And while the rush hour traffic annoyed me as usual, I felt much less in a rush to just get home and sleep - the concern was more toward how I can drive all the way home without waking him.


He seldom says "thank you", but he said it twice on that day. Once while we merged with congested traffic (because he knew how much I hated being stuck in traffic), and once before we slept for accompanying him to do all this mumbo jumbo, which to be honest, I'm usually more than happy to be a part of when I'm not expected to take all responsibility for a task that is essentially not mine.


Overall, I managed to get home tired, but not completely frazzled and irritable like I used to be. I think there's one word to describe how I felt that day: appreciated. Regardless of what I did, he didn't ask me to tone it down if I was attracting attention to myself, and he included my input into the necessary planning throughout the day.


So, to those asking me "why him?", here's one of the many answers.

What a relationship with healthy trust looks like

It's a regular Saturday, and I'm waiting for my shift to start so that I can go through players who are dissatisfied that their mediocre skill is leading to a mountain of losses - regular day in customer service, so to speak.


I was woken up by my grocery delivery, made a very heavy brunch, spent some time with the cat while watching the live action Parasyte movie, then set up my "work station".


The gym mates with suddenly suggest going out for coffee or karaoke. I opted for coffee because I do wanna do out, but karaoke would be too expensive, and I needed to work, or at least be on standby.


What's left was prepping, charging relevant electronics, and just sending a message to family saying that I'll be out of the house for a few hours, as well as an obligatory text to the significant other. The reply? "Ok"


#easy


Except...


about a year ago, I'd be damned if organizing coffee with colleagues was so easy.


In that other relationship, I'd be riddled with anxiety at the mere thought of going out with anyone other than him - and, yes, that included going out with my own family. If I really wanted to go out with friends or colleagues, I'd almost had to fight for it, and I never "won", because I would spend that entire time anxiously checking the time.


I would also nervously - and dreadingly - get home to a cynical interrogation about the content of my conversations, and if I dared say that I enjoyed myself, it would be sure that I will never request for a similar outing ever again.


This would also happen even if I went for an all-girl trip, so god forbid if there was a guy who brought his girlfriend along as well. I'd have this persistent guilt of wanting to completely immersed in communication with whoever I was going out with, but I'd have texts asking me if I'm done, what we're talking about - seemingly innocent questions that I've been conditioned to think as little "tests" to see how honest I was.


Any last-minute plans were a no-go, lest I would want to come home to someone who was sulking more than the cat who got its tail stepped on earlier. I'd be also paranoid that friendly, platonic interaction with any other guy would be a subject of confrontation.


###


I now live in comfort of knowing that my platonic friendships with other guys are nothing but just that - we talk shit about colleagues and people we know, throw friendly vulgarities with each other, and discuss various topics, mostly relating to work.


I wouldn't have to justify WHY I wanted to go out, because I just want to.

I'm not me without my tattoos

I'm fairly sure anyone with tattoos have been in such situations or similar:


"You do know that your tattoos will make you seem less than others, right? No, it's not what I think, although personally I wouldn't do such a thing, but people have been having opinions about tattooed people for centuries, and it's a bad impression." - it's my impression to make, and people will judge me even if I had no tattoos

"Why do you want to get it? I understand, it looks nice, but do you really have to have it that big?" - I have my reasons, which will most likely have nothing to do with anyone

"You were good looking as it is! Why did you have to vandalize your skin like this?" - do you mean that I am now ugly because I have some extra "deco" on my skin?


I've been approached multiple ways about my tattoos - lesser work prospects, potential life as a spinster because no one would want me, and bad impression to notable people in my life who may or may not help me advance.

Being seen as a trouble-making criminal has not been explicitly mentioned, though.

My facade is simple - I tell people that their opinions don't matter to me, and in the end, I will do what I want, life is mine to live, and as long as I live as a responsible person and don't hurt anyone physically, I'm pretty much good. People can judge me or reject interaction with me solely because of my choice of tattoos, and they can be uncomfortable about it (which is the point, more on that later), and ideally - it won't affect me, or at least it won't affect me in a way that I'd give up tattoos.


However, a facade is only a facade. It hurts when people tell me I have less value now that I have tattoos, especially if they come from people close to me.


The intentions are mostly good - they want better life propects for me, but then again if they really had faith in my intelligence which they tout about to other people, wouldn't it be already possible that I know the consequences of getting them?

Oh, wait! No! She has a fucking degree but she must be oblivious to the plethora of consequences that come with tattoos! 

NEWS FLASH: I used to think badly of people with tattoos until I started watching Miami Ink (praise Ami James and his team) and had my horizons expanded.


I also understand the stigma that comes with it - no decent citizen would have their skin so vulgarly marked with nudity, as well as the long-time link between the dark side of society with tattoos. It's also something seen as very outlandish and intimidating: "pay someone a hefty sum to poke holes at high speed into your skin to inject ink for LIFETIME COMMITMENT?!" Thus, people tend to just reject stuff that they can't accept, such as a) someone willing to pay a hefty sum to have their skin 'vandalized', b) have someone use a machine they can't fathom to piece one's skin at high speed, c) lifetime commitment of a certain design ("what if you get bored of it?"), or d) someone who can do all the above and not regret it in the future.


I believe it's something that we just live with, much like women just live with being cat-called and objectified, because it's not something within our control. We can talk back, explain, try to educate, but if they refuse to take the lesson and stay adamant with their opinion, there's not much we can do apart from put on a smile, nod, and agree.


One of the more frequently asked questions that I get is "WHY do you want/need to get them?"

To be honest, I don't have a solid answer for that, or maybe society has warped me so much that I'm now even scared to feel alienated.

I get them because I like them.

Because it's one of the ways I cope with the crippling self-doubt and body dysmorphia that comes with my search of my real purpose in life.

Because I want to be seen as intimidating, to further solidify my facade of strength.

Because it's a silent cry for help to people, to tell them "this is what it means, please help me before my sanity slips away".

Because I want to challenge the beauty standards of people by having as much sex and feminine appeal as I can while having these "delinquent"-type body art.

Because it's something I wanna get with my own money on my own skin, I'm not asking anyone to accept it or understand it or stare at it, so it shouldn't be a problem.

Here are some answers to some common other common questions:

"Why do you want them so big?"

A: I like to make a statement, if my laughter has not illustrated that enough. Also, the only two big ones I have are fairly detailed, so having them too small, it defeats the purpose of asking a master artist to put so much effort into a masterpiece, doesn't it?

"Aren't you scared you'll regret them?"

A: Yes, I'm afraid that my fickle mind would one day decide "actually, I don't like this style/design anymore, but it's now permanently on my body". Which is why I give myself as much time as possible to weigh my options and see if I still want it a few months or years down the road. Also, I try to make it a point to be sure that everything that I get has meaning - each one of my tattoos now represent a part of me. And even if I do regret them years down the road, it will be my regret to take on, because there will be no one else to blame.

"Why do you waste your money like that when you could've spent it on something more practical?"

A: It's a personal preference, like how some people don't mind spending more on food, entertainment, self-pampering, etc. I know people who would rather spend a fortune on games, or spend a bomb on clothes and designer items. People who seem to be like you may not hold the same core values and principles that you do, so I will shut up about you spending so much of your money on [insert what I think is unnecessary and frivolous here], and I implore you to just mind your business and not comment unprovoked about the amount of money I spent on investing in a good artist for a permanent feature on my skin.

"Aren't you worried about the impressions that you would make to new people?"

A: Not really, no. Well, depends on who it is. Most of the time, I like to watch how people on the streets react to me when they see me: shocked? Disgusted? Impressed? Thankfully, I work in a place where pretty much everything goes, and I'm valued by what I can give rather than how I look and how I spend my money. As for first impressions, it really depends on whether you actually want to get to know me in person, as opposed to just writing me off as a lost cause on your book.

I accept the fact that society will not take the time to understand you or accept eccentricity if they are adamant about their values, even when I desperately try to persuade people to perhaps stand on the other side of the picture for another angle that they may be missing out. In essence, I'd be lying if I said that any snark comment/spite directed toward my "integrity" because of my tattoos didn't bother me or hurt me. In fact, it hurts a lot. Say you wouldn't do the same, say your money would be better spent elsewhere - that's on you. But what's on you as well is also seeing me as less of a person because I chose to be even more different than I already am.


My point here is: have whatever opinions you have about what you think about my tattoos. I can't make you see through my lens if you don't want to. However, I hope that if you feel the dire need to tell me about your opinions of my tattoos - good or bad - please, at least try to be civil about it. I understand I don't look like a decent person, much less a decent girl worthy of a decent guy such as the person whom I call my significant other right now. In fact, there's a whole other list that could write me off as "unqualified" to be his girlfriend, and that list doesn't include my body modification.


I give silent nods to fellow inked people I meet - in respect and in silent understanding of the little "society" that we form, in silent retaliation to typical society expectations and beauty standards, in embracing our love for body art even in the face of potential spite, discrimination, and isolation. I can't speak for all fellow inked people that they will feel the same way that I do - many of them are emotionally stronger, and take a lot of this with grace. Perhaps they deal with it in a different way than I do, or they're just let it roll off their back - either way, kudos to them.


Perhaps one thing about inked peeps is that... we're all slightly out of place in this world where we desperately try to find relativity and try to fit in somewhere, to fulfill a role and not let our life just slip by in vain. And since we're already labelled "strange", we might as well do it in style - in the form of permanent body art, pieces of myself that we will take to the grave with us to decay, telling the stories of our lives and being permanent reminders of the lessons we learned, the people we met and loved, the silly things that we used to do.


Essentially, live your life and I'll live mine. If our path cross, I take it as fate for me to have met you, for whatever reason that fate has in mind. I just implore one thing... let me live my life, as my mother has let me live mine. I will blame no one and take responsibility for any issues that come with my choices, as will everyone else. There is little else that give my life meaning apart from him, my family, and my love for the limitless world of tattoos - please don't take that away from me.

Misconception: tattoo + tattoo = best friends

Humans socialize by relativity, which gives them a sense of belonging to a group, an interest, or a lifestyle. For example, you would be more likely to be friends with a similar taste in music, as opposed to one who does not. While human interactions and social networking differ on several different scales, this is one theory that is fairly solid.


Having said that, there are also several other factors to take into account when socializing - demographic, personal beliefs and principles, language barriers, etc. When two people share a strong relativity to a certain entity - let's say, their favorite band - they might become the best of friends, provided that other elements of themselves are compatible, and if not, whether or not they are willing to compromise and tolerate certain traits of each other that might not necessarily align with their own.


Now, I'm known to be someone who really likes tattoos and have some knowledge about the local tattoo scene. I offer my limited knowledge wherever I can to peers or people I know who have questions. Most of the accounts I follow on Instagram, Tumblr, and Facebook are somewhat related to tattoos.


My company recently recruited a new member of staff, who happens to be a girl, who also happens to have an interest in tattoos, which is cool - as it is, our company is a dry desert with almost no girls, so a girl who has a similar interest as mine (relativity), all the better.


My superiors emphasized this point to me: that she was also a girl who emphasizes her embrace of tattoos, and that I would get along well with her.


While I have several friends and acquaintances with whom I share interests with, there are also several people who share mutual interests with me that either do not like me, are not liked by me, mutually hate each other, or we just do not speak. For example, I know guys who have tattoos who hate my guts because "girls are not supposed to have tattoos"; I know people who have tattoos whom I cannot/don't get along with either because we don't go with the same crowd, or our personalities limit our communication.


It was like how my parents expected me to get along with a family friend's daughter, who's around the same age as I am. I didn't get along with her, but ironically, my younger sister did. Whether it was the social awkwardness that plagues my social life, or that we just couldn't get along, I don't know. Not that we hated each other - I just didn't have much to say to her.


Tattoos and the industry itself is marvelous, and it's a really great thing to bring people together to share aesthetic opinions, broadening the spectrum of art styles within the industry, and just fawning over awesome needlework in general.


It does not, however, guarantee that anyone would get along with anyone else who has an interest in tattoos.


Some people get tattoos purely for the aesthetic value. Some get them for attention. Some get them as a memento of a life event. Regardless of the reason that one gets a tattoo, it's not "wrong" if it's by an artist who knows what they're doing.


I avoid "regretting" a tattoo by making sure they have substantial meaning before I go ahead to even research who does the best in the style I'm looking for. Apart from being a little skeptical of those who get tattoos just for the sake of getting them (without knowing what they want or what they derive from the tattoo), or opting only within the range of Pinterest/Tumblr tattoos, I respect everyone's objective of getting any tattoos, even if I quietly judge shitty tattoo choices/placement.


But apart from our interest in body art, our core beliefs may differ. Our lifestyles may differ. These differences may dictate whether or not we get along well. Our interests only serve as a potential catalyst to becoming acquaintances, let alone friends.

"Can I see your buttcheek tattoo?" - how about "fuck off"?

I wish I could say that I never get sexually harassing messages from strangers online, but given my tendency to take strategically covered topless selfies and upload them to social media, I guess I could say that I'm partially asking for it, since I do voluntarily 'expose' my body on a public platform.


It has come to a point where it's no longer offensive, but hilarious that some dudes would be so desperate as to take a roundabout way to ask for a nude (this is purely my assumption, which will be illustrated later in the post).


In the light of my recent weightloss, new-found self confidence, and new tattoo(s), I've taken up my old university habit of uploading censored topless selfies again (during which, these messages periodically popped up in my Facebook inbox). I don't know whether this directly provoked the Instagram DM from this dude, but it is my best theory as for the 3 years that I hadn't uploaded similar selfies, there weren't such messages within my inbox.


So this guy followed my Instagram some while ago. It was not until 28 Feb that he sent the first message, or rather, I saw his message in my DM inbox. I'll let the screenshots do the talking. Identity will be blurred out, cuz I just wanna point out the disgusting misogynistic objectification that still exists today, not to bash the dude. (I end up bashing his sorry-ass who unfollowed me after I sent the last message)


The conversation started innocently enough, asking about my tattoos. I felt it a bit off, but I credited that to my extreme paranoia and narcissism:

And as the conversation progressed from asking about my hannya, to my arm tattoo, things took an uncomfortable turn:

 

And my response to such an outward approach to presumably ask for a nude is as follows. Given, he took a really long time to reply to me eventually, he "found it a bit personal" that I was asking for his relationship status.

Oh yes, sir, very personal, as if your request to see my "butt cheek tattoo" wasn't personal at all. My response thus far (he has not responded yet, though he has read the message):

Whether they're professional adult models or regular people who have a knack for tattoos and/or selective nudity, what makes one think it's okay to hide behind a private profile and yet have the "balls" to "jokingly" ask for such personal items from said people, especially if they're strangers?


Oh, wait. Yes. Men are supposed to be entitled to women. NOT.


Now, most people will tell me I asked for it since I posted racy selfies. Posting racy selfies is not an open invitation to all to request "special privileges", regardless of your position in my life, and especially if you are a stranger.


And when you get called out for your bullshit, don't give a cowardly, lame excuse like "it was a joke". It's not a joke. Since when did asking for a photo of a girl's butt cheek become a joke? Can I randomly message you, asking about your tattoos, then ask for a photo of an intimate body part? I think regardless of how I seem to look on social media, you would feel invaded.


And what a fucking joke it is when you turn around to tell me that I asked a personal question. Oh, asking a random stranger for a nude isn't personal? What, asking for your relationship status is now "too personal" for your cowardly self? Your profile on lockdown, yet somehow, deep inside that chasm of desperation, you managed to heave out your cowardly, misogynistic balls to ask me something like that?


Oh yeah, unfollow me like the coward you are, unable to stand your ground against a random, slutty girl on Instagram who asked to be sexually harassed by posting racy selfies. Tell me, what if I were your sister, your mum, or your friend? How comfortable will you be with a random creep on the internet ask them for nudes when they decide to celebrate their moment of self confidence with a selfie, albeit a not-so-appropriate one?


Is this about the whole "women should dress more modestly to avoid sexual attention from men" rhetoric again? If it is, please castrate yourself and fuck yourself with said castrated dick, or even better get someone to ram into your ass without lube. What are scantily clad women to you but objects that you can sexualize and manipulate as you please, as if you are entitled to us in some twisted way? We don't owe anyone anything, not even our partners/lovers/spouses. How about you try treating girls and women like actual people? Who knows, you might actually get laid for once.


I found it funny when it was actually happening. I was laughing for 20 minutes straight at how pathetically desperate you were enough to do such a lowly thing, but I had no idea I'd go into a ranting rage. Who are you, to just brush off your sexual harassment with a stupid excuse that it's a joke? Which part of you had the right to think that you were entitled to any of my photos that aren't already on my account (which is fucking public, btw), when you are nothing but a stranger to me? When the fuck did it become acceptable to sexually harass anyone, regardless of if it's just an innocent jab or full-on violence?


You know why guys like you are still single? You can't get past your own fucking "manly" (read: misogy-fucking-nistic) ego to respect women as people that are equal to you, if not above you. No one owes you anything - not your family, not your friends, no one. You reap what you sow, and if you sow bullshit and you have the misfortune of meeting a bitch like me, please get your ass ready to be horse-fucked cuz you gonna get an ass full of bull, horse, and dog shit.


And unfortunately for you, people like Christian Grey don't actually get the girl. People who gives respect and treats women as people get the girl. Do the world a favor, piss off your misogynistic ass and die, please. Oh, yes, objectify all you want, I anticipated that when I started posting half-naked shit on the internet (although you are still a disgusting shit-bag for doing so). But please keep your twisted, misogynistic fantasies to yourself and continue fapping. Or buy a fleshlight, they come in all kinds of shapes and sizes now, so feel free to browse. Or actually treat a girl like a human being for once, and pray you don't bump into ranty bitches like me anymore if you decide that your poor dick is still entitled to fap to any of my personal photos.


I would very much like to expose you, then burn you at the stake after very slowly castrating you with a blunt serrated blade. But I'll just report your account to Instagram :)


#rantover

Tinterland Selfiii Coffee & Bread, Seri Petaling

I like to call the newly developed area in Seri Petaling the Radin Bagus area, since all the roads are named Jalan Radin Bagus anyway.

Among the several cafes that popped up following the subsequent shoplots after Jalan Radin Bagus, Tinterland Selfiii Coffee is one of them. The unique selling point of this cafe is suggested in the name of the cafe - you can order a cup of coffee with your selfie on it, making it more special than any other barista coffee art.

Tinterland is located in the more "rural" part of the new shoplots, but is on the same row as Coffea Coffee - just turn in from Jalan Radin Bagus opposite Super Chili Pan Mee, go straight on and there it is.

The entire cafe uses mostly wood accents - wooden board floors accented with angular metal details. The cafe is divided into the indoor and outdoor section, with bar-style tables with tall stools, and tables for various party sizes. A wooden shelf displaying loaves of bread that makes the place seem like an actual bakery.

As opposed to other coffee joints, the staff comes to you with a menu as you take your seat. And as opposed to a lot of other coffee joints that I know, Tinterland has little to no local staff, which is what I prefer personally, as it's a little hard to order customized coffee if you can't effectively communicate with your server or barista.

I went there at a little over 11.20 p.m. with my SO, so there wasn't much of a crowd. Lighting indoors was yellow, but bright enough to give off a nice, almost homey ambiance. Dainty individual cakes and desserts as well as full sized cakes are displayed next to the cashier counter.

A selection of hot coffees and teas in pots, as well as iced beverages and frappes are available, as are some actual meal options, which I didn't bother to browse the menu for (so much for being a blogger).

I made the embarrassing mistake of heading straight to the cake display where I was greeted by a member of staff, who I assume is also not local. While I attempted to order an opera cake and coffee, the staff informed me that I had to order coffee from the staff that attended to us, and then refer to the staff who served us for the cake.

First of all, there were a few staff standing around when we sat down, and while we were in plain sight of each other, NONE of them approached us with the menu, but continued to just stand around staring at us.

When one of them finally did approach us (with atrociously long nails), I tried to order the opera cake from him, but he directed me to the cake display. With some difficulty, we got what he was trying to say - you first order your coffee from your server, then you order your cake from the counter with a referral to your server (to identify bills, I guess).

This was how it was served to us - on its side. Immediately unimpressed.

The opera cake was pretty much unceremoniously delivered to us while we were ordering our beverages. An opera is basically a tiramisu, but in cake from - almond sponge soaked in coffee, stacked in between layers of chocolate and hazelnut cream. The most notable other opera cake I've tried was from Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, and that was how I defined a good opera cake - moist, rich, with thick layers that adhered well to each other.

Opera cake right way up - MYR 10. Easily shared between 2-3 persons.

At first I thought they resorted to using some sort of rolled out bread as the almond sponge, but it turned out to be just rather unattractive-looking sponge. I think something they could have done to improve the aesthetics of the cake was maybe to sprinkle some cocoa powder over the top a la tiramisu, or drizzle melted chocolate over it. I liked the orange chocolate ball decor, but perhaps there's another way to put it on the cake than an unattractive splat of chocolate.

It wasn't too rich, but it seemed to me that it had been in that fridge for an entire day. There wasn't too much of a coffee flavor except for one particular bite halfway through, and the layers started to fall apart three-quarters of the way through.

本來是一個人的孤獨咖啡，變成了兩公婆一起喝咖啡～ 😋 #vscocam

A photo posted by Kellie Low 紫倩 (@thecheanie) on Mar 22, 2015 at 10:18am PDT

Banoffee Frappecino (left) - MYR 14.90; Lychee Lemonade (right) - MYR 12.90

I ordered a lychee lemonade for my SO, and a banoffee frappe for myself (toffee, not coffee). The lychee lemonade was decent, but tasted a little too much of lychee than lemonade. The frappe was decent for the first few sips despite the very artificial flavors, but then it the absurd amount of sugar in the beverage just leaves your tongue numb and your entire digestive system upset. I worked out about 4 hours later, but still felt really sick halfway through.

To be honest, the only reason why we went to that cafe was because I originally planned solo coffee at Coffea Coffee, but the SO wanted to join, and he had some stuff to do that delayed the plan. Coffea Coffee closes at 12 a.m., so I assumed their last order time is at around 11 p.m. Tinterland's closing hours clocked at 2 a.m., so yeah.

In conclusion, not a place I would visit again. Hipster cafes make better cafe and edibles.

No charges for service and/or government tax applicable. WiFi password: selfiii123

Location - 6.5 / 10

Atmosphere - 8 / 10

Food/beverage quality - 4 / 10 (terrible... just terrible, especially for my frappe)

Price - 7.5 / 10 (pretty much the same as other novelty coffee prices)

Value for money - 4 / 10 (I could better coffee and cake elsewhere for almost the same price)

Service - 4 / 10 (slow staff, communication problems, attitude can be improved, etc. etc. etc.)

TINTERLAND SELFIII COFFEE AND BREAD

No. 29, Jalan Radin Bagus 3,

Bandar Seri Petaling,

57000 Kuala Lumpur.

Tel.: + 6016-666 7033

Operating hours: Monday - Sunday, 9.00 a.m. - 2.00 a.m.

Info taken from: Tinterland receipt and OpenRice.my

Photos taken with Samsung Galaxy Note 3

Edited with Adobe Photoshop CC (apparently you can still use it after your trial ends)

4th April 2014

It was one of those days that I woke up excited, but had this bad feeling in my gut (which I routinely ignore because my intuition is almost always off the mark). My babes and I had a day planned out - lunch, a surprise belated birthday celebration, some assignment work, then perhaps some hookah or drinking later in the night.


So Jasmine and I left a little earlier than the agreed plans to get the birthday presents for Jeanna's belated 21st. I seldom ever take the initiative to get presents for anyone, partly due to the fact that I can never come up with something sensible enough for their liking, and also due to my really limited budget.

Caviar Mini Bar Volume 2 from the caviar manicure brand

I like the packaging.

The beauty junkies will probably know that Ciaté is the manicure brand that is the brand for caviar manicure kits. I purchased it from Sephora, Sunway Pyramid, and it happens to be the most expensive birthday present I've ever purchased in my 20 years of being a human. We also got her something from Victoria's Secret, and a pretty cake from Komugi.

Stripes.

We were to pick Jeanna up from around Paradigm Mall before proceeding to Betty's Midwest Kitchen for our girls-day-out lunch, when stuff happened on LDP.


If you're familiar enough with the section of the highway, the right-most lane of LDP around the PKNS Football Club always slows down (for whatever reason). On this day, it did slow down as usual, to around 30-40km/h, then suddenly down to 0.

Chain reaction a.k.a domino effect - what happens when you're driving in a distracted state.

Jasmine hit the breaks in time and stopped a few inches shy of the car in front, but the few behind us weren't so fortunate. I wasn't able to absorb the full impact of the situation, because I almost got thrown out of the vehicle. LESSON: always wear your seat belt. By the time I came to my senses, Jasmine was already out of the car, and I followed with a phone camera.


After some discussion, we agreed to report the incident, and we spent almost an entire afternoon at the police headquarters at Petaling Jaya. Surprisingly, the one with the least damage taken was the one who made the biggest fuss.

Let the feast begin! And I've learned to have my meat with the super fresh eggs!

hen all was done, all of us were craving for lunch. Jeanna was in the mood for sukiyaki buffet, and so to Suki-Ya we headed to.

Sakura (raspberry) layer cake from Komugi. The lightly sweetened layer cake is coated with raspberry-flavored chocolate and decorated with additional chocolate.

15 servings of beef and lamb in total, and a few squirting beef balls (and some icecream) later, we headed to Jeanna's place, where we had more laughs than any other girls had, and had some delicious raspberry layer cake~

Even after going through so much shit through the years, laughing with these girls are always effortless. We can be crazy together, share pretty much everything with each other, and spam each other with love! Pretty sure I'm not gonna ever let go of this bunch - friends mean the world to me, because family has no choice but to put up with you, but friends go the extra mile a voluntarily take your good and your bad. =)

Quiet Christmas

Being a non-Christian, Christmas has always been just another excuse for a couple of days off from school, or whatever. But the sea of Christmas movies on TV (when I used to actively watch TV) that came on around this time of the year made me wish that maybe one day we would wake up to a giant tree, with presents all under it, and spend time together.

For a few years, we did have our own little Christmas tree, decorated with little gold and red balls, little bells, intricately woven bows that my mum made out of ribbon and wire; this little masterpiece to be the decoration for both Christmas, new year, and Chinese new year, all in one little pot on the telephone table in the living room.

Sometimes, we would have a treat for dinner as a family; sometimes, a barbecue, or some sort of celebration/countdown with friends; sometimes a trip to Singapore where all the pretty Christmas lights came up all along Orchard Road. I still remember the drives my godfather took us on - regardless of how tired he was after a long day's work - after dinner, a light swim in the moonlight, and a Wall's Paddle Pop - just to let us gawk at the pretty lights and decorations that lined the entire shopping haven in Singapore.

The house now feels empty. In those three years that my baby was here, I could at least secretly treat him to some store-bought cake, or a little bit of fruit during Christmas, and I could cuddle his furry paws, and play with his ears (which he wasn't too fond of). Now there's nothing. There's been no more late-night scratching and scuffling in the middle of the night, no more barks at strangers, no more pawing of our thighs to get little scraps of food from the kitchen.

My older sister was usually the one who initiated the presents exchange. The thing about her was that she always thought about what to get us for our birthdays and Christmas, and it would usually be a gift that isn't too expensive, but thoughtful enough to touch our hearts. This year, I consider the carton of vanilla cocoa granola she gave me after she got back from work as my Christmas present - little, but significant.

While friends were out having fun, at family parties, or with other friends of their own; I was trying to get over my own guilt of being a bad niece, braving through my discomfort at being at a hospital full of needles and beeping machines. It was a Christmas that I planned to be rebellious - perhaps spending a night drunk at a friend's place nearby, or just going out in the evening for a drink with my girls.

At least, something.

I really never thought this Christmas would be like this. I keep feeling like I'm not doing enough - I'm there, but I don't do much. I try to help, but I feel like it's all too insignificant. Every gesture I make, I feel like it tells people that I'm ignorant, but in fact I'm just uncomfortable - I've been in my physical and emotional shell for too long. I'm there, but I don't know what to say - just planted there on my feet like a mute idiot.

And then I'm here, silently waiting for someone to talk to me. And not just someone, actually. That particular person who's hot and cold at the same time; who seems to be everywhere at the same time; is a different person every other day; the kind that doesn't really sit still, but is the sweetest. Perhaps it's a sign that I should grow some balls and take some initiative sometimes.

The third Christmas I'm spending single. Not that it's a problem, but given everything that happened since April of this year, I thought that something would have happened by now. No rush for that, though. Solitude has been something I'm growing comfortable into - I get to plan my own itinerary of activities with various parties, which is a plus, especially given that I have a car of my own. Yeah, it does get cold between the sheets during certain nights, but that usually nothing a nice fleece blanket can't take care of.

Wishes of happy Christmas could be heard everywhere, and even though it's a quiet and lonely Christmas, I'm grateful that I got to spend it with family.

Michelle Phan

*A lot of links in this post links back to a Tumblr page dedicated to Mish.

Source.

The most subscribed person on YouTube, and the biggest name in the beauty guru world. Vietnamese Michelle was more or less the catalyst to my interest in make-up.


From using a webcam on her MacBook, to getting HD videos with professional lighting done and professionally editing them, she's gained a lot of fans, subscribers, and of course haters.


From the girl next door, she's now the founder of ipsy, a beauty network which provides subscribers (US and Canada only) with Glam Bags every month for a fixed price. Inside the glam bags are exclusive, full-sized beauty products, which are worth much more than the fixed price.


Now some loyal fans (nicknamed the Michelle Minions) are happy with her, supportive with everything, and is always melting at every word Mish says. Then there are those who have fallen out of the fandom for various reasons (to be addressed later). Some are like me, who just watches some of her videos (usually just tutorials or relevant DIY videos), but is a bit wary of her style now.


Not to say upgrades are bad, but she's lost the general "Michelle style" that she used to have. I remember her older videos always had Late Night Alumni or Kaskade music, or Wakeshima Kanon music. That kind of defined her for me - a good mix between laid-back American girl-next-door and gamer otaku.


Now she's like superficially narcisstic. I am happy for her, that she managed to fulfill her dream to buy a house for her mother, and be sponsored by so many different brands, and have such a dream-like boyfriend (Dominique Capraro Thoeni, whom she met in Paris, which inspired the Rouge in Love production).


The thing that really bugged me, though, is that the people she collaborates with just vanish into thin air after a while. Remember when she tried to branch out to fashion and hair, and brought out Chriselle Lim and Krista Bradford and were so close with them? Well, Chriselle seems to be doing quite well now, but Krista just kinda melted into the rest of the world.


She also recently did a video with Swoozie, but the last time they appeared together was... god knows when. Daven Mayeda too. They just kind of fizzled ever since they stopped appearing in Mish's vids for like until now.


Oh, yeah. And she used to have the iqqu Acne Serum, and also her iqqu brushes. Those kind of went missing too...


There's also the assumptions about her chin. It's really obvious, even to some loyal fans like me, that something happened to her chin. Just look at her old videos, and watch her newer ones. You would have to be under some kind of voodoo to not notice it. And her claim about the Invisalign being responsible for the chin change... I would buy it, IF the change wasn't so dramatic.


I mean, I still love her, and I love her (older) videos, it's just that her videos now are like... quite random. I miss the old Mish, transforming herself into Nana and doing creative looks instead of sticking to contour shadows and winged liner.


People change, I'll admit, especially that her life is so successful. But it would be nice to see the old her once in a while. =)

Driving blues

I finally understood why my mother or sister would come home sometimes utterly frustrated, seemingly for no apparent reason: the number of stupid drivers encountered on the road on top of an already long-and-shitty day at work or classes.

At first I was just like "OK, this is just patience training". Quote Master Sifu (anyone notice that it actually means Master Master? Like "sifu" is Chinese for "master"?): INNER PEACE.

Unfortunately, as some of you fellow KL people will understand (and I'm sure some people all over the world would), sometimes patience runs out, and you'd really love to run some people over on the road. Here are a few examples of the people I hate:

BIG BULLIES

They drive the big-ass 11-seater vehicles, or drive a Hilux or similar truck. Or even better, those huge-ass trailers or dirt transporters. THEY BULLY EVERYONE. Just because I drive a smaller car than you, doesn't mean you automatically get the rights to be more superior than me.

OLDER PEOPLE

They automatically assume that you will have to give way to them regardless of the situation, and will most probably glare their eyeballs out at you if you don't. Dear aunties and/or uncles, sometimes your windows are tinted to dark I CAN'T BLOODY SEE WHO YOU ARE. And even if you were a senior, no, that isn't a reason why I should let you have your way. Bite me.

THE FRESHIES

These are the bouncing and excited "yay I got my licence after 12 hours of sitting around listening to bullshit and going through those stressful tests" (usually young) people. As you might anticipate, they are unsure, and usually, they like to take chances. Scary, unsure kittens. Stay to the left, please.

SMARTPHONE ADDICTS

Strange 'cause I've an assignment related to this. I understand that it will kill you to stop texting with your beautiful, amazing *insert name of person here* for a quarter of a millisecond, so KEEP TO THE FREAKIN' LEFT!!! Don't hog the fast lane and keep tapping on your brakes. It scares the shit out of people like me who is usually just 5 inches away from you at 110km/h.

MOTORCYCLISTS (in general)

Malaysia's motorcyclists are rampant. They could be compared to the bicyclists in some countries, where bicyclists demand for equal rights on the road, but violate every rule on the road (9Gaggers might get me). They motorcyclists here are pretty much what you would call inconsiderate, even if they aren't mat rempits. And trust me, they will annoy any patience you have left.

THE COMPLETELY OBLIVIOUS

I've been meeting a lot of these types recently: highway, going 60km/h on the fast lane, but they don't even look in their rearview mirror. Trying to overtake them will cause an accident, but following behind them creates a VERY long vehicle worm. I'm not one to check mirrors too often, but giving a glance every minute or so would be nice.

WHAT IS THIS MAGICAL STICK?!

Depending on the vehicle, the signal joystick could be on the left or right (my Satria's is on the left, my sister's Etude's is on the right). I DO NOT CARE HOW OLD YOU ARE, USE THE STICKS!!! It's common courtesy, not some noble intent that you whip out when you want your shoes licked. How many almost-accidents I've seen just because one lazy person decides not to use their signal lights.

What helps? Music (the hard stuff, or kawaii J-pop, if that's what floats your boat). And annoying the shit out of these people if you can manage. Am thankful that both the cars I drive are pretty awesome~ =D

Well, rant over, back to assignments *sigh*

9 assignments due

Whoever who said communications was an easy A subject, YOU'RE MORE THAN WRONG.


Well, perhaps in comparison to other subjects, communications is a breeze - just simple theories and fun with various computer software. But when you have 9 of these assignments to hand in by the next 2 weeks, you won't think it's fun anymore.


When I signed up for this degree course, I really didn't imagine that I'd have to DRAW or do STATISTICS.   Those who think all you have to do is film videos and edit stuff on Final Cut Pro, it only depends on your major, and even so, you still have a lot of paperwork assignments.


No, communication isn't all fun and games. Less stressful than other majors like architecture or hotel management, but as the Chinese saying goes "家家有本难念的经", meaning each home (or in this case, major) has it's own difficulties.


I would like to die now.

To drive

When others are driving, one would typically not realize really how intimidating the road is. Vehicles - large and small - seem daunting because you know they can't read your mind, and you them.


Sure, many of us will excitedly go for lessons, and laugh nervously over our mistakes, which are calmly pointed out to us by our driving instructors (I had the good fortune of getting a young, patient instructor). But on the real road, there's no such things as honest mistakes - you make a mistake, and you risk your life and others'.


But if you really were to drive, you'd have to practice. Like all other things - practice makes perfect. Of course, first attempts are rarely perfect. Even after driving for over a year, I still bump into curbs (my poor rims...). Practicing driving, I almost hit a motorcycle and almost got into trouble.


But still, I drove myself to and fro campus practically everyday. Sometimes, I act as a chauffeur (to not-very-enthusiastic people). Slow practice and experience now makes me a substantial driver, of course not perfect, but better than I was, and much more confident.


For the people around you, they should be supportive, of course. I had the privilege of my sister quoting Seth from The Pacifier the first moment she entered my car - "we're all gonna die" (she's much more comfortable now).


My older sister has not much confidence in my distance gauging. My friends know I like to speed, so they would do quite a lot to try avoiding being in any car with me behind the wheel for long drives.


But then again, I drove mostly alone, to and fro campus. I drove to uncharted territory alone, equipped only with verbal direction from Jasmine to Bangsar Village (for Royce' Chocolate vouchers which I later lost).


Though I do admit, certain types of people drive worse than others. Especially many lady drivers - they scare the living daylights out of me. I should highlight, though, that I know many ladies, including my mother and many of my friends, who drive very well. I have a classmate who participates in dirt racing, and she's one smokin' babe.


People who encourage you to actually get on the road to get experience is genuinely helping you, because experience is like masturbating - only your own hand will get you there. Everyone gets experience by doing, and putting it off doesn't help anything.


AND ANYONE ELSE WHO SAYS LADIES ARE SHITTY DRIVERS IS GETTING THE FINGER FROM ME. Do not generalize, please. There are also male drivers who drive like complete limp pricks.


If confidence is the problem, allow yourself a little more time getting from A to B. Slowly build your confidence and experience, and sooner or later, you'll be the awesomest driver!

***

Blogging with music now is definitely not a good idea. My train of thought keeps getting derailed, especially under the influence of 5% of alcohol. =P You might want to ignore this post, because it's really just a personal rant about men calling women shitty drivers.

Music favorites + new discoveries

To say that music defines my life is kind of an understatement. I'll listen to anything that sounds good - from classical, opera, to techno, and hard metal (usually my foremost preference). But then again, if you look around, "music defines my life" would be more applicable to those who really live with music, for the music. I am merely another person on earth who listens to music. =)

So, here are a few of my favorites, especially in the past month or so.



RELENT You Still Love
I've been listening to this since I started volunteering for CYW. I could safely say RELENT is the only local band that I actually like. This would be a song that I might have performed at my wedding (if it ever happens), and the band members are really friendly, especially vocalist Neil, and percussionist Cuzario. =D

曲婉婷 我的歌声里 (Qu Wan Ting You Exist in My Song)
I think in the later part of 2012, this was the hit song in Malaysian. Performed by Malaysian Wanting, the song has been voted for over and over again on various music stations (I listen to OneFM). It's a song Jasmine and I like to sing along to.

Rie Tanaka Ningyo Hime (Mermaid Princess) [Chobits ED2]
This used to voice my feelings so much - of clinging to every strand left, never letting go. Although those thoughts are pretty much behind me, it's a song I like to sing along to. Romanji lyrics and translation here.

the GazettE PLEDGE

Emotional, intense, and the lyrics are just beautiful. The guitars, the bass, the drums, Ruki's voice - every emotion screamed from this song... Romanji lyrics everywhere, and the translation here.

Roxette Listen to Your Heart
I have a soft spot for love songs with a touch of rock, like this song here. My sister and I used to put it on replay while playing MapleSEA.

Tainaka Sachi Saikou no Kataomoi [Saiunkoku Monogatari ED]
Another anime song. It's impossible to be addicted to anime while not getting addicted to their songs. Modern Japanese songs have almost always stood out from the crowd for me, and this is just one of the songs that I used to hate ('cause I couldn't reach the high notes), but came to love slowly.

Utada Hikaru First Love
According to my friends, this was THE hit song when we were in primary school. The thing is, my first Hikki song was Flavor of Life, and I didn't hear of First Love until only recently. In primary school, I was following the trend, listening to Britney, Avril, and some Taiwanese pop groups. Now it's a song I sing to annoy my sister. =D

Jade from SWEETBOX 1000 Words [Final Fantasy X-2 soundtrack]
No person can be qualified as an FF fan if they don't know this song. This was THE song when I was in my early years of secondary school, just when I started discovering Gackt, hyde (and subsequently L'Arc~en~Ciel), Miyavi, and the GazettE, followed by many other visual bands.

The lyrics of this song are just beautiful:

Oh, a thousand words
Called out through the ages
They'll fly to you
Even though I can't see
I know they're reaching you
Suspended on silver wings

If you listened to the song while actually playing the video game, I can guarantee that you'll need tissues to try your tears.


***

Now for some new discoveries. Lately I haven't really been musically adventurous, playing the few songs above again and again and again, without really getting tired of them. Just a few days ago, though, I decided to try out some new music.

Guns N' Roses November Rain
I have a guy on my Facebook friends list called November Rain, and I have a few friends who are rock enthusiasts. I was listening to songs like Hotel California and Every Breath You Take, and found this on the suggestions box. I told myself, why not? I am now officially completely awed by Slash's badass-ness.

Davide Sonar Natural
I'll be honest. I've never really liked techno until I started listening to J-rock. I'm not a party person (even if I wanted to), but I like songs with a beat. In a way, I came across this by accident, and it just totally blew my mind. My first dose of Italian hardstyle, and I'm lovin' it!




Davide Sonar Dedication
You can rest assured that this will be only music in my room for the next week or so. I'll have it on replay until my ears burst from an overload of auditory orgasms.


***

I know. The video has been under editing for more than two weeks already. I'm trying really hard not to rip my hair out, because the software I'm using to edit the video now stalls a few seconds every time I do something.

クリスマス

Christmas isn't something I really look forward to, because my family doesn't exactly celebrate Christmas, and the amount of Christmas carols being played all over the place are just OVERWHELMING.


With one exception, this year.



Ken Min was having some pre-Christmas blues and sent me this song. It's been a really long while since I last listened to EXILE. The only song I have from them is Toki no Kakera (Pieces of Time), and that was from eons ago.


The song got me hooked, though I have no idea how the entire song goes, or what the lyrics are. Up till now, this is the only Christmas carol that hasn't got on my nerves.


Before Christmas day itself, I had a few days which were packed. On the 22nd (which was actually Day 1 of Comic Fiesta), I helped out backstage doing make-up for some of the girls who were gonna be performing for their Performing Arts final showcase. Half of my day was occupied by using up my liquid liner, as well as dark shadows. Super fun day~


23rd was the second day of Comic Fiesta, and I went with Ken Min and Kah Yeng. We basically spent most of the day there, and for a few days after that, kept talking about a group cosplay next year. Hope that one will turn out okay~


On the 24th, I went with a couple of friends for my HPV vaccination. That stupid injection kept gnawing at my arm for a few days. On Christmas day itself, however... My Christmas was completely uneventful, unless you count a trip to the newly opened Baskin Robbins near my house.


Instead of being jolly and celebrating like everyone else, Christmas this year, for me, was quite solemn. I think it's because I'm single this Christmas, and I never really imagined that I would be single in the first place. A merry holiday suddenly became like a forced session of reflection.


Despite my desire to blame everything on the opposite party for my single-ness, I can't help but accept the fact that it was also my fault that things turned out the way they did. Unconsciously, scenario after scenario started playing in my head - what if I didn't do that? What if I kept that to myself? What if I was more like that?


From what I know he is also still single, but it makes me kinda sad that he's now much, much happier without me. He's met his dream band, and basically his life seems more eventful than mine. Once or twice, the thought of asking for him back popped into my head, but I realized that it's practically impossible, and don't I have any shame, asking the same guy back twice? Guess I just have to live with the fact that I almost literally shoved him out of my own life by my own doing.


Having other crushes temporarily pushed him out of my mind for a while, but at the end of the day, I stare at my own ceiling and replay our memories. It hurts like fuck when I do that, but then again I've always been masochistic.


By observation, my life is definitely more eventful than his, but everything just seems so empty for me. Everything now just passes by without really registering itself completely in my brain. Everything somehow links itself to some memory from the past. Oh, well.

To him

Life is much more easy going now than it was a few months ago.


A few months ago, I was still bawling my eyes out occasionally for something dear I had lost. At that time, I was blinded by hurt, grief, and many other negative emotions that just clouded my mind very much. I think a recent crush cleared my head - everything is just me, or at least most of it.


One and a half years - fell apart just like that. Because of jealousy, selfishness, obsessiveness.


The problem with me is that I see my faults, but no matter how much I remind myself not to make them, they happen anyway. Am I not trying hard enough?


I was alright for a couple of months. Maybe it was because there was something to look forward to - false hope. My downfall for so many things. He said I was pessimistic before. Personally, I feel that I'm overly optimistic.


"Everything will turn out perfectly", I'll say to myself, every time something starts to happen, and scenarios start conjuring themselves in my head. But as they say: "the higher you put your hopes, the harder you will fall". I've fallen, so many times, from such daunting heights that I brought myself to.


He deleted me from Facebook, just because I had written a blog post at that time, and he judged me based on that (it was about a week old). I kept it that way for a bit - I didn't feel that I needed to re-add him to prove that I was his "friend". After all, I have other friends off of Facebook, and I'm okay with them.


A few days ago, purely on impulse and feeling, I re-added him. In a way I regretted it - his face appeared practically everywhere (not my news feed, though), along with my crushes.


Every time I see either name or photo, I'll inevitably think to myself: "what a useless wreck I am". Friends think I was alright after the break, because shortly after, I was "crushing on other guys" already. I can't be sure, and I might sound like a total bitch for saying this, but in a way, it helped me cope - it slowly helped me escape those nights (every night) that I would cry myself to sleep.


But to that one crush, if you're reading this: I really did like you. I would get extra nervous around you, I had to keep in mind to keep my knees from trembling, and every time you looked at me, my heart would skip a beat.


Other than that, I spent half a day with a couple yesterday, and I was reminded of so many things...


I remembered that I used to be jealous of them, because they could be so lovey-dovey, while I had to endure being away from him for long periods of time.


I remembered those times when we also used to do all that - cuddling, nuzzling, hugging, kissing, sharing stories, watching movies together... I miss that.


Right now my mind is in a mess - I don't know what to think anymore... Do I miss him, or do I miss doing all of those things with someone, anyone? I don't think something that had been the core of my life for a year and a half would be something that my heart will let go of easily.


Most would think: "this is utter bullshit". But I know, in some corners of the world, someone knows how I feel. I wouldn't call it pain, but this confusion is unbearable.


His favorite girl rock band came to Malaysia about a week or so ago, and he blogged about it. I put off reading it, because due to his "obsession" with them, I became jealous of them, and consciously made an effort to dislike them (most of the time). The only song that I listen to from them: Namida no Regret, the song that he introduced to me to listen to. Till now, it's the only song I cry to.


Then he had a recent blog update, so I took a look. I merely scrolled through, but from the first few paragraphs, I could see that his writing had improved so much - it became professional-looking.


From that, I deduce that I myself have no changed much. He, however, had moved on way beyond me. Actually doing things with his life. Me? Like Ken Min said, I'm pursuing my own perfection in my own way.


Ken Min... I've known him since primary school. I used to make fun of him, and sort of distanced myself from him during primary school, just because he was different than other boys. Who knew that this boy would now be the friend that I confide most of my pains to, and he actually understands them?


In a lot of ways, when I'm feeling at the bottom of existence, he'll comfort me and give advice, which usually cheers me up. Or at least, I feel less shitty about myself.


I have so many thoughts, so many self-conjured conclusions (some also define this as "assumptions"). I was just listening to the All-American Rejects' Gives You Hell on the way home from badminton last night. I can actually say that if I see his face, it gives me hell.


Not hell, per se, but it makes me really confused with myself every time I see him on Facebook. I concluded that, despite all my hatred toward him, and everything related to him - I still can't let him go. Another way of saying it would be that I still love him, to whatever extent.


I know he's reading this, so are many other people I know. Maybe not now, maybe about a month down the road, but I think he'll read it one day. I imagine him saying: "serves her right for being such a bitch", but somewhere in the back of my head, I think he won't. Or rather, I wouldn't know how he would react.


A year wouldn't suffice. It would probably take a few years to finally coax my heart into letting the past, stay in the past. He's not coming back to you, love. He won't and never will. He fell in love with you, and you made him fall out of love with you.


Love might be a strong word to use here, but honestly speaking, I really did feel it. It wasn't just "I wanna do couple stuff with him", but rather "I want to share everything with him". The line between obsession and love is blurred, was blurred.


Why is it always that you have to lose that which is dearest to your heart, in order for you to know that it was the most important thing in your life? Then again, no pain, no gain.


And why is it that I'm screwing every bit of chance I get, every time? Impatience? That, and some other factors.


Why the sudden outburst of feelings? Humans are emotional beings, in me more than many others. And the whole point I started writing was to let out steam, before I explode and cave in.


***


Gonna blog about Thursday (The Hobbit) and later today soon, if I get photos. Have an awesome day, everyone!