HOLD ON TIGHT WHEN
YOU FIND THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE.
Last night, Nic and I had a talk which ended in me crying buckets, again. Which resulted in a night of restless sleep and waking up with golf balls for eyes. I'm such an emotional wreck! I have loved very few people in life and Nic was one of them. I guess letting go a 4 year relationship isn't such an easy feat as I thought it would be.
From the day we broke up up til now, I haven't had a good, satisfying cry that revolves around THE breakup. When faced with the question about how we were dealing with the breakup, "We're dealing with it fine, thank you" comes out even before my mind could process what was being asked. Not that I deserve a pat on the back for that but it's just that; I'm the stronger of the two of us, naturally I had to not be the one who breaks down, right? To be honest, it's actually incredibly hard keeping it together but being sad is not "cool".
Our breakup was amicable and we're both back into the 'dating pool' so what seems to be the problem? Simple. Because apart from being an alpha bitch and a control freak, I'm also, um, well, a sentimental new age lesbian who's still holding onto a promise we made to each other back when we were seeing rainbows and roses in each other's eyes.
It's like a piece of me I left behind and I can't function as a whole since.
It's the 'ooky eeky nagging' feeling you get when you start a new book knowing you haven't completed the last.
It's a feeling of unfinished business.
Because of that, I blow hot and cold. I wake up everyday a completely different person. Someday I would be completely rational, straight-forward and accepting of everything. Some other day, I would be floundering in apathy and numbness. And on some other days (the worst of the lot) I would be weepy, vicious, and bitter. Tomorrow, who knows? All this moodiness is throwing me off and I feel like I'm teetering at the edge of a breakdown.
In closing, I feel in order for me to have truly rewarding relationships in future and to feel a happiness bubbling from within, I need to 'complete' this book once and for all, slam it shut, put it into the library of memories and classify it as 'One of the Best Books Ever'. The End.
Disclaimer: No need for tissue or words of comfort, I'm not weeping over lost love nor am I still 'in love'. It's a totally different feeling and I'm still looking for a way to put it down in words. (:
Tuesday
08. Porn in different light.
WHOEVER SAID PORN ISN'T FUNNY.
I would like to meet the geniuses who created this.
I would like to meet the geniuses who created this.
Monday
06. Pie Chart.
A SLICE OF PIE FOR LITTLE BOY BLUE.
(Raped and killed for being a lesbian)
I hate to start the entry with such a solemn topic but I feel you ought to know what is going on. When Nic showed me this entry earlier this evening, I was upset, disturbed and of course, angered.
This brings us back to the very fundamentals of acceptance - In order to be socially accepted, we have to give up being who we truly are. Does that make sense? Isn't ostracizing lesbians and gays a form of racism too? To exhibit discriminatory or abusive behavior towards members of another race, in this case, of another sexual preference/orientation.
I know of many who cannot fathom the reason behind anyone being lesbian or gay. My dad for one, finds lesbians and gays repugnant. But there is no need to exhibit dislike or hatred through violence. How does violence help? It just goes to show that men are inarticulate and insecure and the only way to feed their ego is through hurting those weaker than them. Lesbianism and respect doesn't exist in the minds of the men who don't understand it.
I'm lesbian. Do I have to watch my back now?
-
On a lighter note.
Next Show: Sing Dollar in July. Tickets out on 25th March. Support local talent! (:
And now that my work schedule's so slack (I'm not exactly thrilled 'cos the wallet's running on empty), I swim on a regular basis and meet up with friends - some of which I haven't seen since the day I left secondary school. I also get to enjoy the luxury of waking up at 2:30pm, decide that I want to dominate the kitchen for the day and 'whip up' something for the family.
To digress a little, the word 'family' still feels strangely weird coming from me; written or spoken. As we all know, I've been living with Nic and her family for the past 2 years and though her mom often jokes that I'm the 'fake' daughter, technically that still doesn't make them 'family'. No, change that to, "That still doesn't make 'me' family."
Anyway.
That's all folks. Yours truly is off to bed.
(Raped and killed for being a lesbian)
I hate to start the entry with such a solemn topic but I feel you ought to know what is going on. When Nic showed me this entry earlier this evening, I was upset, disturbed and of course, angered.
This brings us back to the very fundamentals of acceptance - In order to be socially accepted, we have to give up being who we truly are. Does that make sense? Isn't ostracizing lesbians and gays a form of racism too? To exhibit discriminatory or abusive behavior towards members of another race, in this case, of another sexual preference/orientation.
I know of many who cannot fathom the reason behind anyone being lesbian or gay. My dad for one, finds lesbians and gays repugnant. But there is no need to exhibit dislike or hatred through violence. How does violence help? It just goes to show that men are inarticulate and insecure and the only way to feed their ego is through hurting those weaker than them. Lesbianism and respect doesn't exist in the minds of the men who don't understand it.
I'm lesbian. Do I have to watch my back now?
-
On a lighter note.
I'm glad to announce that my absence is not due to the lack of activities but on the contrary, the influx of it. I'm living life a little more actively now. Just last night, I attended a stand-up by our local Drag comedian, Kumar. God bless that magnificent talent for her/his outrageous jokes about sex, race and government and ability to crack an audience of 1000 up; within seconds into the show. I'm serious, seconds.
Next Show: Sing Dollar in July. Tickets out on 25th March. Support local talent! (:
And now that my work schedule's so slack (I'm not exactly thrilled 'cos the wallet's running on empty), I swim on a regular basis and meet up with friends - some of which I haven't seen since the day I left secondary school. I also get to enjoy the luxury of waking up at 2:30pm, decide that I want to dominate the kitchen for the day and 'whip up' something for the family.
To digress a little, the word 'family' still feels strangely weird coming from me; written or spoken. As we all know, I've been living with Nic and her family for the past 2 years and though her mom often jokes that I'm the 'fake' daughter, technically that still doesn't make them 'family'. No, change that to, "That still doesn't make 'me' family."
Anyway.
On this perfect day, nothing's standing in my way (except for a pimple that disturbingly resembles a disgusting gun-shot wound on my right cheek), the 'experiment' also known as Shepherd's Pie yielded a couple of rewarding, "Taste pretty good!" from my guinea pigs.
That's all folks. Yours truly is off to bed.
Friday
05. 2nd Friday the 13th.
TODAY WAS A TOTAL WASTE OF MAKE UP.
Friday the 13th is the thirteenth day in a month that falls on Friday, which superstition holds that it is a day of good or bad luck which in my case was...well, neither. My day hasn't been all honey-glazed and ideal - I'm at work and I haven't made a SINGLE sale. That, for one, is worse than having a run in my tights now.
BUT.
I was so bored (due to the lack of customers, I even vacuumed the shop!), and the radio was on and I sent a text for some OTOT contest (army thingy) and won myself two tickets to any movie of my choice! I know, I sound very "aunty" now, but hey, we're all suffering from recession, this is equivalent to a 'recession relief' since I didn't get the GST off-set money.
Now, let's backtrack a little to last night. Last night was totally random. Going to Herstory party at Zouk was totally unplanned, and the people we met too.
I was aiming for the sweet 'girl-next-door' look when I got dressed for work so you can imagine my horror when I went to Zouk - I stuck out like a sore thumb 'cos while everyone looked all diva-licious and glamorous, I looked like I was going for a picnic in Chinese Garden. Oh, the humiliation.
Random fact 01. I actually agreed to go to Zouk.
Random fact 02. Nic and I went with the intention to 'warm the seats' but we ended up dancing the whole night. It was as if we had donned on the magical 'red shoes'*.
*Anyone know of that story? About a girl and a pair of magical red shoes that will make you dance and the only way to stop was to have your feet chopped off. Yep, morbid I know. I read it when I was in Primary 2. The book had very nice illustrations and the girl kinda resembled Dorothy from Wizard of Oz.
Random fact 03. I held Rebecca Tan's waist while I was trying to navigate my way out of the dance floor. I had NO idea but imagine my pleasant surprise when I looked up and into her eyes. *swoons* I'm not exactly star-strucked b-but! *swoons* She's. So. Hot.
Random fact 04. I lost my virgin club kiss! Comfort in lust?
Here's your cue to gasp and curl up your lips in awe/disgust/fascination. "Whatever you like...yeah!" -That T.I song has got to be one of the most annoying song ever but it's stuck on me.
Random fact 05. (Totally unrelated to Friday the 13th) I'm dressed to club today, but I have nowhere to go except an invitation to hit Double O but the last thing I want is to club, again. Two nights in a row.
-
"P-p-p-poker face, P-p-p-poker face."
So my point is, Friday the 13th isn't all bad luck (contrary to most beliefs) and nothing nice but I still wish for more customers.
So I'm sitting here, waiting.
Friday the 13th is the thirteenth day in a month that falls on Friday, which superstition holds that it is a day of good or bad luck which in my case was...well, neither. My day hasn't been all honey-glazed and ideal - I'm at work and I haven't made a SINGLE sale. That, for one, is worse than having a run in my tights now.
BUT.
I was so bored (due to the lack of customers, I even vacuumed the shop!), and the radio was on and I sent a text for some OTOT contest (army thingy) and won myself two tickets to any movie of my choice! I know, I sound very "aunty" now, but hey, we're all suffering from recession, this is equivalent to a 'recession relief' since I didn't get the GST off-set money.
Now, let's backtrack a little to last night. Last night was totally random. Going to Herstory party at Zouk was totally unplanned, and the people we met too.
I was aiming for the sweet 'girl-next-door' look when I got dressed for work so you can imagine my horror when I went to Zouk - I stuck out like a sore thumb 'cos while everyone looked all diva-licious and glamorous, I looked like I was going for a picnic in Chinese Garden. Oh, the humiliation.
Random fact 01. I actually agreed to go to Zouk.
Random fact 02. Nic and I went with the intention to 'warm the seats' but we ended up dancing the whole night. It was as if we had donned on the magical 'red shoes'*.
*Anyone know of that story? About a girl and a pair of magical red shoes that will make you dance and the only way to stop was to have your feet chopped off. Yep, morbid I know. I read it when I was in Primary 2. The book had very nice illustrations and the girl kinda resembled Dorothy from Wizard of Oz.
Random fact 03. I held Rebecca Tan's waist while I was trying to navigate my way out of the dance floor. I had NO idea but imagine my pleasant surprise when I looked up and into her eyes. *swoons* I'm not exactly star-strucked b-but! *swoons* She's. So. Hot.
Random fact 04. I lost my virgin club kiss! Comfort in lust?
Here's your cue to gasp and curl up your lips in awe/disgust/fascination. "Whatever you like...yeah!" -That T.I song has got to be one of the most annoying song ever but it's stuck on me.
Random fact 05. (Totally unrelated to Friday the 13th) I'm dressed to club today, but I have nowhere to go except an invitation to hit Double O but the last thing I want is to club, again. Two nights in a row.
-
"P-p-p-poker face, P-p-p-poker face."
So my point is, Friday the 13th isn't all bad luck (contrary to most beliefs) and nothing nice but I still wish for more customers.
So I'm sitting here, waiting.
Tuesday
04. Old habits die hard.
LOVE IS THE SLOWEST FORM OF SUICIDE.
I ask of you to empathize, not sympathize.
I cannot adequately describe in words my emotional state prior to cutting. The feelings are overwhelming - usually severe feelings of sadness or anger. For me, cutting is a coping mechanism. It's definitely not something I'm proud of, but cutting presents a way to make the pain show and be felt on the "outside" where I can deal with it. It also provides me a temporary diversion from what I am feeling on the inside that's impossible to conceive.
And the best thing about it is, it stops me from crying.
It's a very stressful experience at the time but it does help me get back in control of my emotions albeit with having to face the shame the next day.
While I cut myself, I have a cognitive sense that what I am doing is wrong and sick, that my actions will hurt not only myself, but others who care; yet, I am so distraught, I don't care. I feel like a pressure cooker that's going to explode. The urge to cut is very strong and with each slash, I feel a sense of relief. I feel no pain during the cutting, the pain comes much later. Going back to the 'pressure cooker' analogy, cutting and bleeding is like letting out the steam.
Much as I hate the scars cutting leaves behind, the immediate relief I get from cutting is addictive; it makes me feel as if I'm injected with morphine or something. It relieves the pain that nothing else can take away and provides a weird sort of comfort and so, like a drug I can't live without, I keep falling into the same pattern over and over again.
Inflicting pain on myself disgusts me but it's like an obsession I can't get rid off and believe me, I really, really want to stop.
I ask of you to empathize, not sympathize.
I cannot adequately describe in words my emotional state prior to cutting. The feelings are overwhelming - usually severe feelings of sadness or anger. For me, cutting is a coping mechanism. It's definitely not something I'm proud of, but cutting presents a way to make the pain show and be felt on the "outside" where I can deal with it. It also provides me a temporary diversion from what I am feeling on the inside that's impossible to conceive.
And the best thing about it is, it stops me from crying.
It's a very stressful experience at the time but it does help me get back in control of my emotions albeit with having to face the shame the next day.
While I cut myself, I have a cognitive sense that what I am doing is wrong and sick, that my actions will hurt not only myself, but others who care; yet, I am so distraught, I don't care. I feel like a pressure cooker that's going to explode. The urge to cut is very strong and with each slash, I feel a sense of relief. I feel no pain during the cutting, the pain comes much later. Going back to the 'pressure cooker' analogy, cutting and bleeding is like letting out the steam.
Much as I hate the scars cutting leaves behind, the immediate relief I get from cutting is addictive; it makes me feel as if I'm injected with morphine or something. It relieves the pain that nothing else can take away and provides a weird sort of comfort and so, like a drug I can't live without, I keep falling into the same pattern over and over again.
Inflicting pain on myself disgusts me but it's like an obsession I can't get rid off and believe me, I really, really want to stop.
03. Public Relation is a liar.
HONEY, YOU SAID,
"SEVEN SETS OF REVISION PAPERS."
You built my hopes so high,
Baby, then you let me down
You let me down
You let me down so low.
"SEVEN SETS OF REVISION PAPERS."
You built my hopes so high,
Baby, then you let me down
You let me down
You let me down so low.
Monday
02. Bak Kwa delivery.
WHAT THIS WORLD DOESN'T NEED
IS THIS SAPPY SONG TO SING.
I'm still reeling from excitement and euphoria from last night. (:
Pleasant surprises are welcomed, any day.
01. Death of Blackcat.
IF YOU HAVE A SPARE HEART,
GIVE ME A CALL.
The death of Blackcat-luck led to the life of yet another online journal.
Trust me, the thought of keeping a tangible offline journal; one that is perceptible to the senses; that allows you to press the pen down so hard when you're angry, it leaves traces of your anger pages after - did cross my mind but...you can say that I just can't live with the nagging feeling of knowing that there's a free (note the emphasis on the word 'free') digital canvas out there that allows me to play out my fantasy of being a 'published author' and I'm not utilising it. That, will be letting the "aunty" in me down.
I'd like to think that I created this journal solely for myself; sort of like a soliloquy but we all know I didn't - otherwise you wouldn't be here, would you.
Point being, in writing about myself here, I think that I create a version of me that I could envy, and this helps me to distance myself from inner smidgens that I didn't want to talk about, and to see, in the written word. Most of what I did and said and thought fit into who I wanted to be.
Definition:
\Ver"bi*age\ {noun}
The use of many words without necessity, or with little
sense; a superabundance of words; verbosity; wordiness.
That said, here's to V-erbiage.
-
The Plain White Tees are clever when it comes to numbers. I don't particularly fancy this song but the chorus made me go, "awww!" Here's how it goes:
There’s only
1 thing
2 do
3 words
4 you
I love you.
It actually resembles a recipe; probably for something diabetic.
GIVE ME A CALL.
The death of Blackcat-luck led to the life of yet another online journal.
Trust me, the thought of keeping a tangible offline journal; one that is perceptible to the senses; that allows you to press the pen down so hard when you're angry, it leaves traces of your anger pages after - did cross my mind but...you can say that I just can't live with the nagging feeling of knowing that there's a free (note the emphasis on the word 'free') digital canvas out there that allows me to play out my fantasy of being a 'published author' and I'm not utilising it. That, will be letting the "aunty" in me down.
I'd like to think that I created this journal solely for myself; sort of like a soliloquy but we all know I didn't - otherwise you wouldn't be here, would you.
Point being, in writing about myself here, I think that I create a version of me that I could envy, and this helps me to distance myself from inner smidgens that I didn't want to talk about, and to see, in the written word. Most of what I did and said and thought fit into who I wanted to be.
Definition:
\Ver"bi*age\ {noun}
The use of many words without necessity, or with little
sense; a superabundance of words; verbosity; wordiness.
That said, here's to V-erbiage.
-
The Plain White Tees are clever when it comes to numbers. I don't particularly fancy this song but the chorus made me go, "awww!" Here's how it goes:
There’s only
1 thing
2 do
3 words
4 you
I love you.
It actually resembles a recipe; probably for something diabetic.
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