How I think it goes.

Not much of a clue where this rant is going, and not that I'm at that point of losing, or having lost anyone. Just that perhaps I have reached the point that I've found someone I fear losing. Perhaps that's why, lately, I've had this thought in my head. Isn't it funny how once we've found someone, we could't stand to lose them?

Or put it in another way. See, we are all born alone. Of course, we have our mother, our father, our sisters and brothers, and we are attached to them. We are born with the same blood flowing in our veins. Yes, we will be afraid to lose them. But other than that, we were practically alone. We were perfectly alone. We weren't afraid to lose anything.

A warm handhold at the park, a gentle brush of the lips on the cheek, a breath of strawberry chapstick, a tender curl of hair behind the ear, and everything changes. A stranger has all of a sudden become everything. We believe that we've found the pearl of the ocean and we know we never want to part with it.

All of a sudden, we couldn't be alone. We grew attached and we couldn't stand the thought of losing him or her. W grew to believe that the earth would crack, darkness would descend and the world would end if we ever lose that person (that was once a stranger) who has become so important to us.

And when it's really over, we'll probably find that the world isn't ending. But we wouldn't believe it at first, because we think we've lost everything. And I guess some of us will know in the end that it's not the end of the world. Some will be fine with being alone again. Some will be warmed by other hands and other kisses. But some might never go back to how it was used to be.

And honestly, I don't know how to end this post either. I think all I can say is, I hope I never lose anyone that is important to me, who I get attached to. But at the same time, I'd like to think of myself as the ones that, when the time really comes, know that I was once perfectly fine on my own.

second chances

Today, my theatre class TA asked the class this question ‘what would you trade the devil with your soul for?’ after we read Dr. Faustus.  When he came to me, I answered him that I would trade my soul with the devil for the power of having second chances, to go back in time to undo, or redo things. 

In the past, when people ask me what do I regret in life, I was one of the lucky ones who could say “nothing, I regret nothing and would do everything again just the way I had done them.”  I was a lucky soul, or now, come to think of it, I was an inexperienced soul, fresh, new and naïve in life.  I thought I could keep everything that way, and I could be a lucky soul to die regret-free. 

I was being too hopeful.

Now I know, there actually come times in life, when you did things you regret so much, and you just wish to start over, to go back, rewind, and undo things, but you just can’t.  When you made stupid decisions and fucked all good things up and ended up drowning in your own damn mess.  And the bitterness, the guilt, the regret kept tearing you apart bit by bit and you could just see your world dissolve and dissipate into powder, leaving a great big void right in the middle of your heart.

That time of regret came, and I am just helpless and remorseful, but my arms and legs are bounded and there is nothing I can do or say that can change how things ended up. 

All I can say is, I did my best to make things right.  I was confused and I was a fool, but I tried my best to salvage things.  Though, not everything can be saved, and not every one can be salvaged.  I can’t expect to live a scar-free and pain-free life, because that is not living.  We all do things in life and we put ourselves, our hearts on the line, we experience and we live.  And we get hurt and scratched and lose a limb or two.  But that’s just how things are, living is not living if we don’t get hurt.  We will never get hurt if we don’t put ourselves on the line, and we will be safe and sound and innocently happy; but we will never live and experience the sweetness of life if we never feel pain and taste the bitter.

I am running out of words now.  I don’t expect this to be only time in my life when every single breath of mine taste like regret.  I am pretty sure there are a lot of regrets and remorse awaiting me, and just I wish I could trade my soul for the power of having second chances.  I wish I could make this trade.  I wish.  I wish.

diaries abroad: I'm an introvert.

This is a new section that I'm starting, which is 'Diaries Abroad', and this is where I plan to talk about the sudden ponders and thoughts I have here in this (still) strange land that I'm in.  All the cultural shock and weird experiences, awkwardness or awesomeness, will be here in 'diaries abroad'. 

I am a proud introvert.  I wasn't before.  I mean I have always been an introvert, but I was not proud of it.

There was a time, when I desperately wanted to be extroverted. I wanted so bad to be outgoing and talkative and active and happy and bubbly and have something to say (aloud) about at everything.  But I just couldn't.  There was a time when I hated myself for that and felt so frustrated.  Yet, I have learnt to be proud of it and accept it because that's me.  And introverts are great, I mean, a lot of great people are introverted.   You can go ahead and listen to the TED talk about introverts.  It's super insightful.  I promise.

Now that I'm here in uni though, I feel like I couldn't survive on being an introvert.  People here all talk to people.  I don't mean I am a total shy and wordless/soundless and timid type of person, but it's just that I  seldom take the initiative to talk to people.  I run out of conversation topics in just a snap and it's just awkward silences after 'Hi, how are you doing? Good? Awesome. So where do you come from? Oh wow, that's great.  What's it like there?  Nice.  I didn't catch your name?  Oh, mine's Joey ---'  My mind doesn't work that fast while I'm talking because I get nervous when I'm meeting people.  Because I am an introvert and I am not that outgoing.  But these first few weeks, I know is crucial to meeting people and making new friends.  I cross my fingers that I might all of a sudden break out of my introverted cage and just for once be someone talkative.  Dear God above, please have mercy and help me.

This is the conclusion I've come to.  And introverts out there, here is what I think about us.

Yes, we can be quiet and go into deep thoughts and meditate and ponder about life and space and universe.  But we've got to stop pinning this introverted badge on our skin and hide behind it or show it to everyone.    If we don't talk, we don't survive.  True, us introverts need our own space and peace and quiet.  But to survive in this superficial society, where the loud ones get their voice heard, we have to speak up because we need a place in the society, we need to meet people and make acquaintances fast.  We've got to work our heads like turbos and generate questions to raise in conversations.  We've got to have a response to everything and be curious.  And if you are damned to be born with a poker face (like me), try to take it off your face.  I got to try it too, because this poker face is just keeping everyone away.  I don't really know how yet, I mean, sometimes even when I'm really interested or ready to talk to people, I just look uncaring and impassive.  Just got to loosen up them face muscles, I guess.

That's all the crap I have to say today.  Good night everyone.

All By Myself

I've never felt a song get me that much as this one, and it sure is a spur of a moment thing; but still, this morning, this song was like the summary of my now, my situation.  My family left this morning and 'All by Myself' kept looping in my head non-stop, even when I tried playing another song.  I suddenly felt so alone.  I am alone.  This is what I thought.  I don't wanna be all by myself.   It should be my new life here in the university and I should be all excited and happy about it.  But the thing is, I was doubting if I really wanted all of this.  There was just me and myself here, and no one gets me and there's no one to talk to.

So here is a slice of loneliness and emptiness I'd like to share.  Please do close your eyes and imagine, feel the moment, the emotion, and take a little bit of this solitude in, so as to ease this bottomless hole in my heart.

I'm just joking, I'm feeling much better now.  I will make it through, I have to.  Because this is what I've always wanted.  I won't be all by myself for long.

mama's girl

To honor the ending of my birthday week, (yes, my birthday is such a big deal that it lasts whole week) here is an extract I found on tumblr and really liked.  And it kind of echoes with, or kind of offers a different way out to my hopeless birthday post/rant on Monday, that while being older and an adult, we lose our innocence and naivety.

I guess the inner child in us never dies and shows up whenever we feel different emotions.  I particularly was touched by the line, "or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mama's lap because you're scared, and that's the part of you that's five."  True, no matter how old I get, I will always need my mama, perhaps not sitting on her lap because that would probably cripple her; but her embrace and her comforting presence, I will always need.  I will always be her little girl, and that for one I know and gives me console when in face with the cruel and the unknown adulthood.

EIGHTEEN COOL

Hell yea, Dakota Fanning, I've grown up. Today, I turned 18!  Well, turns out being 18 doesn't feel magical and empowered and different. I just feel like myself.  I still think people that are over 25 are quite old (don't hate me please).  I kind of still call myself a kid and others adults even though I'm officially an adult now.

And because this is the first day I'm officially an adult, I have more than the right to be nostalgic of my childhood.  We all had those days when we were tiny and dreaming of the day when we will be adults, wearing pretty clothes and high heels and make up. I didn't go into the particularly girly route as to dress up in my mama's clothes and put on her red lipstick, though. Instead I was a little tomboy when I was small.  But I had my fair share of hopes and dreams and imaginations of being a grown up.  I desperately wanted to grow up and constantly wondered what I'll become, how I'll be like. It was the 'que sara sara, whatever will be, will be' tune gone real life.

Thanks to my mom, who have always reminded me that I'm old(er) by saying, " you still think you're a little girl?" or "you're not little anymore, you're almost (already) 18", I think I've moved onto a more mature state of myself. I've become more rational and realistic. I've gotten a pair of more mature looking glasses, and a pair of decent ballet flats, and I put on a little make up. Yes, I may have dressed a little older because, it's always important to look age appropriate and classy. But I think I'm quite naive still, and I like to believe that I'm quite naive still, and still have the little dumb childish side of me.

We all know how the world changes as we grow up, how everything seemed to have lost their wonder. The fort we built and loved so much turned out just to be a bunch of chairs and blankets. Santa Claus turned out to be just fat old men with fake beards sitting in shopping malls. The wise and know-all adults turned out just to be as troubled and confused as we are. The world and time, as we slowly grow up, kill the children inside of us. It was as if the adults and their world were sour for the joy and the dreams us kids have, and had to ruin it all for us by contaminating our heads and loading on our ripening shoulders, tasks, responsibilities, work and burdens.

I don't want to grow up because growing up comes with responsibilities and hard work, and growing up kills the childish naivety inside of us.  Do not be mistaken though, I do want to be an adult and try all the fun things adults can do, and be independent and in charge of my own life. What I don't want is to become those troubled adults who work 9-5, or 9-9pm even, and go home and sleep, and go to work the next day. I don't want to become those adults who are filled with worry and regret, and are basically mind-dead/dream-dead/imagination-dead. I don't want to become troubled by my own life. I want to live and be happy about my life. But I have to admit, that I think I might slowly become one of those people that I dread becoming because there's just nothing much we can do in this world. It's inevitable and there's no escaping. Innocence will soon be replaced by rationality and responsibilities.  It happens to every body.

 Meanwhile, all we can do, I guess, it's just to try our best to stay young and keep the kiddo inside alive and well.  And I will be constantly reminding myself, for the years that I may have left to live, to be young at heart and keep on dreaming, imagining. Once in awhile, let go, let loose, be naive, be fearless, and have fun. Let's cross our fingers that the little kiddo in us will just stay for awhile longer, or stay for years longer, if not, just stay forever; so that everything will stay wonderful and miraculous, and we would still laugh and be free and worry-less, just like we all were used to be.

oh babe, I hate to go...

Can't believe there's only one day left till I board the plane to USA.  Super busy packing and prepping everything.  Excited and nervous and all mixed up inside.  

Goodbye HK, and hello, America.

troopers of the future

What I want to talk about today is living in the future.  I don't know where I got these from, perhaps it's due to my leftie-ness?  I find myself thinking and imagining more of the future rather than the present when I have the time to think.  Now that I thought about it, I realize that most of the time when I was thinking about the present, I was either worrying or under high-pressure (of course there are exceptional cases of extreme joy and wonder when I live in the present).  In my head, there is always images and snippets of the future that I imagined.  Sometimes, they just flash once and then they were gone; sometimes, they stay for quite awhile in my head until the future collides with the present and I compare whether the 'future' in my head (that had became the present) match with the present.  Most of the time they don't, because if it does, I must be a wizard or X-men or a prophet or something of that sort, and trust me, I'm not. *wink*

Some people believe that it is not really healthy , living in the future rather than in the present.  It's quite true for me, I guess.  Being the type of person who worry too much, freak out too much (leftie-syndrome/stereotype), the future, most of the time doesn't look that optimistic.  And even when it does seem optimistic and gleeful and hopeful, I can always come up with terrible images that just kills the mood every time.  And I become this down, hopeless and frowning ball of dark energy, and this is not healthy, I know, and I am trying to change that (am I?).  But in another way, living in the future helps boost my imagination and creativity (and yours too, if you have the similar thing going on in your mind). When my mind is idle from the present, it always wander off to the future and its infinite what-ifs.  'What if this happens?' 'It'd be cool if that happens.' 'Omg, what if it doesn't work out?'

Say, when I was in Secondary 1 (i.e. grade 7), I started imagining how I would feel when I graduate and finish high school.  During my 6 years of secondary school education, I had imagined so many different versions of it.  Here are some examples: 'I will be cool and not shed a tear and watch my friends cry and yelp for those long lost good old days of youth', 'or I might be the dramatic cry baby and hug everybody, and I will let my tears soak into their shirts and onto their shoulders and they will comfort me and say that we will meet again', 'oh and I will write letters and autographs to all my friends, and we will go out for drinks and get drunk and be fun like Carrie and her girls (SATC minus the crazy love-making part of course)'.  Now that I have graduated and the 'old future' had became the present, all I felt is melancholy and nervousness and excitement, and fyi, I am still sticking to mocktails.  But that's alright because the present is only so short a period of time, whereas the future is infinite. And I have moved on to living in other futures, my college years, my love life, my career, my marriage (if someone would marry me), my kids (if I would have someone marry me and have kids with me), my later years, and my last words.  There are just so many things that I could imagine and fill my head with that I sometimes think to myself, living in the future is so much more fun than living in the present (#truth).

So here's to all you mind troopers of the future out there, rock on, fellas.  I will be your companion and travel in my own future, and you yours.  We will have so much fun together separately (and disappointments too, perhaps for me.  but I'm cool with it, I guess).

My Imperfect Imperfections, My Acne Story

I have been battling my acne problem for what seemed like forever.  These evil little pimples and zits started popping out and appearing on my face since grade 6, or grade 5?  I'm not so sure even.

I have quite a serious case of acne problem (not extremely severe, not the worst, thank god) and I couldn't remember how I looked without acne.  Seeing my face like that in the mirror every day surely doesn't feel good.  I have tried multiple ways to kill them bastards (different acne products, facials and chinese herbal remedies, clean diet, etc.), but they just wouldn't die and let me be.  They were determined to kill my self-esteem and self-confidence.  I am sure of it.  I hate to admit it, but they are having their way; those damn bastards are/have always been winning.  Sure, there were better days when my skin looked a tit-bit better.  After awhile though, the zits pop right back out.  The more the merrier, it seemed to them punks.

  

There are days that I feel extremely terrible about myself, that I feel so ugly and uncool, when my self-esteem hit bottom and my self-confidence dropped to zero.  And I look at the mirror and just say, 'you ugly bitch.'  Yes, I even cried a few times.  When I look at other girls with the porcelain skin, smooth as alabaster; I get so jealous.  Why wasn't I born with that?  I want to skin them and exchange my skin with theirs.  

I credit most of my low self-esteem and self-consciousness to those rascals on my face.  But I discovered recently during my quiet-thinking-time that I am so obsessed with fashion and clothing because of my acne problem.  What I wear, I have control over; what happens to my face, I have none (as much as I want to).  I already have poor skin, and if I don't even give a damn about what I wear, I'll be a total faux pas, a total frump.  So I always pay extra attention to what I put on.

Yes, I know inner beauty is more important than outer beauty.  I totally agree with that age old bs.  But outer beauty counts too.  I hate to look the way I am now.  It is difficult to play it cool when friends and family address my acne problem, even thought they always mean it kindly.  It is difficult to act uncaring and cool about it because I do care a lot.  I am just so frustrated.  I curse the day puberty hit me right in the face and planted these hideous pimple-bitches deep under my skin.  And how many acne had puberty planted?  I don't know, I feel like each of my little pores are acne-cornucopias.  They just never stop popping out and oozing out them vile self-esteem-killers.  I know some of you do have the same problem as me, and I wanted you to know that you are not alone.  

I dream of the day when I look into the mirror and see a smooth-faced, acne-free me.  I dream of the day when I look in the mirror and say to myself, 'damn girl, you look pretty.'.  I dream of the day when I look in the mirror and love what I see.  I dream of that day coming.  But will it ever come?  My hope is running low. 

Disclaimer: I am so sorry for all this negativity.  But I do have a right to feel how I feel and whatever that's troubling me.  And I know I am a lot luckier and have it way better than some other people out there, but my problem is still my problem and I'd still like to talk about it.

And have I mention my acne scars and ginormous pores? (don't even get me started)

Testing the waters

just testing the waters in the blogsphere here, and as everyone does in their first blogpost, I'm going to try to decribe what I think I want my blogbaby to be about. ( which I don't have much clue now) I guess it will just be about things that interests me: music, books, art, fashion, photos etc...along with just some random thoughts and rant.
here comes the conclusion of the first post on my blogbaby...so happy blogging to me, I guess? Let my random rants begin...