update on my mental

i'm going to be as candid as possible because no one is going to read this.

i'm not coping well.

i'm not coping well at all and it has reached the point where even breathing is a hassle. to a point where there won't be a day which i don't question my entire existence on this earth. is this an existential crisis? or am i so woke? does everything even matter anymore?

i've said in the previous post that i will be seeing a psychologist to get myself diagnosed. i got the diagnosis, and i am, in fact clinically depressed and is suffering from anxiety too. after whole fucking 5 years, i've finally put a name to whatever i've suffered. i feel kind of relieved, at the same time i feel so scared too.

i'm ending this here, i can't think anymore, i'm just trying to not give up.

酒後吐真情

酒後吐真言。我不完全信，我覺得，酒後吐真感情。

人，隨時都可以吐真言，但是是我們的表情出賣了我們。

我一直在想，為什麼喝了酒之後，事情比較容易說。

也許是應為酒精麻了我們的感情。

或者是酒精，搗亂了我們的感官。

它讓我們放下自己的自尊，我們的羞澀。

卸下我們防備，我們的疑問。

雖然它讓我們感到瘋狂，但它是我們的舒緩。

P.s. 我是在喝了酒之後

但是我現在酒醒了

How to love me

Please do not be afraid when I read your message and did not reply

I may just be busy at the moment but I still have you in my mind.

Please do not doubt my love when we have a cold war

I still very much love you but I need to cool down from the rage.

Please do not stop talking to me when I do not talk to you 

I may just be waiting for you to make the move first.

Please do not give up on us when I ask for a break

I will still come back to you when everything is balanced again.

The Second Breakup｜ 第二次的分手

The second breakup is not like the first

It is not the one where you ask for a break

And stop yourself from thinking about anything related to you beloved

Where things ended with a comma, but not yet a full stop

The second breakup 

Is the one where you finally decided to move on

One where you decided to make peace with the past

It is a terrifyingly heartbreaking decision

Because what you are breaking up with is not a person

But rather the memories made and the feelings felt

Flash backs are played like a montage

Words repeated like your favourite song

Feelings are felt with a heightened sense, accompanied with a tinge of blue

Songs may never sound the same

Because it is not the melody you are listening to

But the feelings that you once felt

But second break up will be your last break up

Because it is a lesson learned

A mistake well made

One where you learned to make peace with war

And the one where you finally found the full stop.

第二次的分手不像第一次

它不是那次当你要求分手

之后阻止你自己想关于他的事

第一次分手是个逗号，不是句号

第二次分手是

当你下定决心放手

和自己的过去和好

它是一个撕心裂腹的决定

因为你不是在跟一个人分手

而是在跟回忆和感情分

回忆会断断续续的播放

话，像你最喜欢的歌，连续演唱

当下的感情又复燃，但又外带一点忧伤

歌也不再像以前一样

因为现在你听的不再是它的旋律

而是以前的回忆

但第二次的分手也会是你的最后一次

因为它是一个教训

一个错误

一个然你知道如何从战争里得到和平

一个让你找到你的句号。

Achievement Rant

I got woken up at 9.30am by the constant vibration from my phone, turns out it's Nick telling me that Porter Robinson has restocked his merchandise with Galaxxxy.

While waiting for his reply, I went to scroll my Twitter timeline and came across one of the people I know tweeting about her boyfriend buying her drinks when he's late.

Oh! She even tagged her boyfriend in it. How convenient to stalk.

So I clicked on her boyfriend's twitter and look at his profile picture. Then I went over to hers to see it again because it was a group photo for her boyfriend's profile picture. Then I saw something, a blog link. I clicked on it, hoping hard that it's not password protected like some other blog that I tried to read (seriously, if you put passwords to your blog, don't share it, don't give me hopes). Praise the Lord, it's not protected.

Then I begin reading. Reading about how she's contented with her life right now with her boyfriend. And my eyes gaze over to the left, her short biography with a list of school she's attending and has attended. She was from a JC and is currently studying NTU Accountancy. And then I got real envy of her. You know how the phrase goes "green with envy", no, mine is blue. I'm blue, I'm feeling so blue.

Looking at her achievement, JC, Accountancy, RI boyfriend, this girl is going somewhere, and then I look back at mine. I was feeling all so pathetic as my whole life regrets flashes across my eye. I should have done better for PSLE, I should have gone into a better school, I should have studied for O levels, I should have stayed in MI and study even harder. All the "I should" and "Why didn't I" floods my head,  I have no mood to buy the merch, neither do I have the mood to continue living lol.

Then other people's achievement floods my mind, someone I knew went into NUS Law, someone I knew promoted to final year in MI, someone I knew is studying Business in SMU, someone I knew was offered a teaching scholarship, it's everyone but not me. Where am I? I'm currently in the Second year of Screen Media in one of the local Art School. What is Screen Media? That's where I don't get going about what I'm studying. Normally people's reaction towards other subjects will be like,

"Oh! Accountancy ah! Wow, you're going to make big bucks in the future."
"Wa, law? You must be really smart."

No one goes, "OMG, am I looking at the next Hollywood big director?" No. Absolutely no normal soul (in Singapore). Like c'mon, everyone tries their best to siam Arts in Singapore because they know you cannot make a living out of Arts in Singapore. Have you see any Secondary School kids going all crazy over Art? No. Most of them will be like, Oh no, I have to study hard so that I can get Triple Science and be a doctor, no one goes, Okay, I have to draw better so that I can be an Artist in Singapore. ABOULUTELY NO NORMAL SOUL IN SG WILL SAY THAT. How depressing is it to be an Art student in Sg.

So damn depressing.

So depressing till I want to sleep till I die.

So depressing that I don't want to continue the next semester of my school.

Just a bunch of fucking losers doing Art.

Fucking buck up your game Singapore. I can't stay here to do Art if I want to be success.

Then again, why rant when I could do something to change it. Point is, I'm still wallowing in my own sadness and I haven't got out of bed.

How it feels to have depression?

You wake up every day, wishing you could go back to sleep.

You do not want to face the world.

You are not ready to face it.

If you have the choice to stay in the whole day, without hesitation, you would.

You couldn't even bother to check up with your friend.

One moment, you could be alright, next moment,

You're gone.

Your mood would totally drop to negative.

Sometimes,

You experience sadness.

Sometimes,

You experience emptiness.

And the sadness I felt is immersed. 

You hide your illness because you feared that people will judge you,

but sometimes you're frustrated with people because they do not know how fragile you are to their words.

You no longer find the motivation to do anything at all.

Eating seems tiring.

Bathing seems tiring.

Talking seems tiring.

Breathing seems tiring.

That is because your mind is the only thing that's running.

Your thoughts would run wild like fire.

You think about the worst possibilities.

You think about rejections.

You think about humiliation.

You wish you could stop thinking,

but that remains a wishful thinking.

You push away people,

including the one you love.

You said stuff that they don't understand,

hoping that they would catch a hint, but they don't.

You don't want to be emotional towards them,

because you know they would run away from you,

but you can't help it because your sanity has been swallowed by sadness.

You throw in the darkest words,

and thoughts that no one would understand.

To no avail, they responded with lightheartedness. 

You just needed someone to take your emotions seriously.

Maybe it's time to leave them.

You put on music the whole day and whole night,

hoping that it would somehow help you to forget your sadness.

The music fade loudly,

your sadness still remains with you.

There are days which you looked normal

but don't be fooled by it.

Your feelings are subconscious,

they still creep to you during the darkest night,

the brightest day,

the crowded room,

and the lonely road.

Death stays with you every single second,

the thoughts are tempting,

but the little hope still whisper,

"It'll get better".

You wonder when.

You finally open up to people to your illness,

you hope that they would stay by you.

But instead,

they took you lightly, 

and say,

"C'mon, it's just sad thoughts. Who doesn't?"

You regret,

you're never talking to people again.

Never

ever.

And right now,

you just want to shut off from the world,

and live in your little world of loneliness.

Hopefully someday,

you would say goodbye to it,

or goodbye to the world.

Will you please stay?

"Go away,"

I trembled as I typed.

I sent without hesitation,

and was only filled with regrets seconds later.

I waited with anticipation,

only hoping that you would stay.

"If you want me to,"

You replied.

Was that sadness from you I felt?

And my heart ripped itself apart.

What's worse than driving away the people you loved.

"Yes please,"

I cried.

For I couldn't even hold on to the people I loved,

because I'm breaking apart,

breaking apart from your guessing game,

breaking apart from my unrequited love.

The Contradicting Girl

She says she fears the dark,

but in it, 

she finds comfort.

She squints her eyes when there's light,

but she would light up a candle,

because it's the flickering light that makes her alive.

She says she does not like to talk,

but in her mind,

the conversation is never-ending.

She says she likes to be alone,

but every now and then,

she craves for warmth just next to her.

She says she don't like pasta,

but alone at home,

she cooks for one-man share.

She says she don't like movies,

it's not the movie that she don't like,

It's the aftermath.

She says she's disappointed,

but with every new possibilities,

she looks forward to a new beginning.

She says she's not a girly girl,

but in her closets,

lies skirts that she never had the chance to wear.

She says she does not cherish friends,

because those who she cherished,

betrays.

She says she's hard to understand,

not because she is,

but because people don't try, 

and so does she believes.

End Jan's Confession

Just before January ends, I thought I would like a post something on what was used to be my hideaway.

Amidst of all my assignments that are due next week (FML), I choose to post because something heavy has been placed on my shoulder, or mind, or heart, or my windpipe, it's so hard to breathe.

Well, this is still my hideaway, but I had taken into consideration that people will read and judge me over how poorly my languages and thoughts are structured, or rather how superficial I am on some level. I mean, it's almost reaching 11k views now.

I started off 2015 with a high note, and in life, what goes up must come down, so as you would have guessed, it's crumbling down, at a rather fast speed.

My assignments are piling, I don't even know if I would cope with all those new knowledges. I even doubt my choice, should I even return to school, should I transfer course blah blah blah. Well, at least I could deal with it my submitting my assignments timely. Not for the other shit in life.

One of my biggest weakness of all is that, although I may seem aloof or anti-social, I do care about my feelings and the people around me. I just don't voice it out as easily as other could. As straight as my face could be, the me inside is all tearing apart. As quiet as I could be, the voice inside my head is even louder than the construction works that happens in my area every damn morning.

I do sometimes question myself on why do I keep on pushing people away. On first thought, I thought I'm selfish, I pushed people away because they are not going to do any good for me. I feel like they could embarrass me anytime. It's either I leave them now or I pick up my face later. I feel so disgusted by my selfishness.

Then, on the second thought, it's because I want to stop them from getting hurt. Because I'm selfish, I'm brutally blunt, I'm inconsiderate, I'm aloof, I don't place kinship or friendship in any of my priorities. People should stay away from me, and the only way they could stay away from me is by me staying away them.

I don't bother to forge any friendship with my new classmates. I don't bother to ask my existing friends their day, I don't bother to strike a conversation, I don't bother to make any eye contact with anyone.

I'm totally fine with it. Because I know it's for the best of me and for them, no one gets hurt.

However, time and again I was wrong.

I was hurt, they were hurt too.

They would be indirectly telling me they are hurt so badly through their tweets or whatever way they feel that they could connect to me. I, on the other hand, will be found hiding myself, pretending to be leading a hectic life, a life so hectic that I am not able to care for anything.

Don't be fooled. I'm so damn affected by my actions. I couldn't even do my work with a peace of mind. I would be worrying about so much thing. I know I could do something to ease that anxiousness, I want to comfort them, but then, my logical thinking would get to me.

This is the best way to stay wound-free,  for you, for everyone around you.

---

The load seems to have lifted off for a bit, I'm off to sacrificing my sleep for my assignments and GPA.

I'm sorry if I hurt you in any way, please know that this is for the best of us. 

My Childhood Memory

I do not have a good childhood. The only memorable time I could remember it was when I sat behind the closed door, a door closed from all connections of human, scratching my forearm till little red bumps starts to appear on it.

That moment was the moment I felt alive.

Ever since young, even till now, I had little self-esteem. Well, there are days where I feel fabulous like Beyoncé too, however, those were the rare days. Well, I am a plain Jane, an average Joe, who excels at nothing but being average. If you were to ever met me on the street, you wouldn’t even bother to take a first look at me.

One thing for sure, I know that was not average was my out of proportion buttock. Before hitting puberty, I have a rather normal body, where everything was in proportion. Once it hits me, my buttock decided that it’s time for them to shine. BOOM, they’re big now.

There was this one time I went to Malaysia to visit my maternal side of the family. My Grandparent owns a business. They sold Kuei along the road side and had a lot of regular customers. Some of them even bought Kuei from them for years! There will be a few customers who would buy Kuei in bulk for their own business. Sometimes if I’m feeling helpful, I would wake up in the middle of the night and help them out.

And then there is this particular customer. 

He is a half a century old Chinese uncle who drove a van that a pedophile would drive. The very first moment I saw him, I disliked him immediately. He was so friendly to my Aunt who was helping out. Then, he saw me. My Aunt quickly introduces me to him as the Singaporean kid who was having holiday. He seemed pretty impressed to know that I’m a Singaporean, I mean, which Singaporean kid is willing to help out with business in the middle of the night right.

For the next few days, I went down to help my Grandparent and without fail, he would be there to purchase Kuei in bulk. Every time I see him, fear and feeling of disgust grew. He was like that overly-friendly obese uncle who would try his best to have himself around you, except that he was not obese. 

I was minding my own business, then…

I felt a firm grip on my buttock. A grip that was obviously not mine, a grip that sent me to a state of shock. 

I stare unbelievingly at nothing, my jaw dropped, but no sound was heard. My eyes widen to disbelieve. Slowly, I turned to my right, only to saw a face that I would kill to not see it for even one. He was looking back at me with a blank smile, a smile that would send anyone’s spines to chill. 

I walked to my aunt and told her what happened, hoping to find justice in the matter, only to have my hope all crashed. 

"Come, touch one time for $50."

For the whole time later, I was helping out like nothing happen, needless to say, it was all an act. I was trembling terribly inside.

Once I reached home, I went to the room immediately. Door shut tight, locked, I sat against the door in the cradle position. His smile was plastered in my mind. Slowly, I held my hand to me, baring the forearm. With another hand, I started to create long, thin, red scratch marks. Every scratch marked was like erasing the scenes of the horror. I sat there, scratch, and scratch and scratch. 

What happened again?

---

It's an assignment by this module called Story Telling. I didn't sign up for this shit.

Tragedy = Realisation?

"One man's meat is another man's poison."

It is always through all those tragedies of others' do we then realise what we fortune we always have. Just hour ago, I found out that another plane has gone missing, and this time, it was an even big shock to me because I have fellow RCY members away in Indonesia for their OHP and are suppose to come back today.

"Please, don't let it be them."

And thankfully, it's not them.

Thankfully? Why is it a thankfully? Because it's not my friends that are on the missing aeroplane? How insensitive of me to be thinking "thankfully". Why am I thanking that it's not them when it's the others that are missing? I do not think that the affected families would like my thank. They would not like their tragedies to remind of what not the unaffected one always had.

I could not put myself in their shoes and think what would happen to me if I was the affected one. I would never want to be the affected one. However, that does not mean I do not fully sympathise with what they are going through. The constant worries and reassure needed to make sure that their loved ones are safe and sound, the noises and assumption made by the media; those are the thing I could never put myself into it.

However, it is one of those tragedies again that made me realise what I had. As insensitive I may sound now, I'm glad that they are in the airport with their flight delayed, I'm terribly glad that I was able to receive messages from them to reassure that they are okay.

To the affected families out there, I am terribly sorry for what has happened to the AirAsia plane of QZ8591. The possibilities are vast but let's not stop saying your prayers and keep a positive outcome to the event. I pray to the Father in Heaven that good news will be reported soon and all your loved one are safe.

To the other members of the public, let's say our prayers together and hopefully it will reaches to Him and will bring them back to their families.

#QZ8501 We are praying.


---

Really hate myself for thinking this way.

My friend named Lonely

I have a friend named Lonely.

Lonely only comes around when I'm alone.

Well, sometimes he visits me when I'm around people.

Around, not with.

He came with silence, but his presence is noticeably strong.

"Do you like Lonely?"

No, I hate Lonely.

He made me feel insignificant.

He made me feel like a rock that's lying beside a road,

a rock that no one would bother to take a first look.

He made me feel like a poorly written book,

so badly written that no one would want to continue to read the second sentence after struggling with the first.

Maybe someone will pick me up though I'm badly written,

but somehow, they just put down the book again.

"Then why are you still friends with him?"

Because Lonely made me feel alive.

Lonely made me feel the pain.

It was the pain that made me feel alive.

Lonely made me crave for something I wouldn't crave.

He made me crave for human connections.

Lonely made me want to stay a conversation with a human.

I have not told Lonely that I hate human. 

Lonely made me think about myself and the improvements I could make do.

Lonely came to me when I look at people I could bond with but did not.

Lonely came to me when my friend left me for someone better.

Lonely came to me when people laughed at something I could have laughed at too.

Lonely came to me during the brightest day and the darkest night.

Lonely came to me when I'm surrounded by people.

Maybe Lonely is my best friend.

The Better One

"You deserve someone better," was how I got rejected, more than once. Do I really deserve someone way better, or is it a phrase said to make me feel better about the rejection.

Now it got me thinking, if someone were to confess to me (keyword: IF), but our feelings were not mutual, how would I reject. A rejection that brings it straight to the confessor, yet at the same time, beats around the bush so that confessor won't be hurt that badly. A rejection that is a pain yet soothing.

"You deserve someone better."

Short, direct, consolation, hope, rejection, all in that 4 words sentence.

Do I really deserve someone better? 

Are you really such a jerk that it's a blessing in disguise to get rejected? 

Would there be anyone that's better than you? 

Do I even deserve anything?

What is better?

But I thought you are the best for me?

Do you deserve me?

Am I really that good?

I hate this kind of rejection. It posses so much hope that you will get someone really better, but the current situation is, you are getting REJECTED. What is this contradiction? If I'm that good, shouldn't you hold on to me, because there might not be someone as good as me?

Then the "better" hits me, someone who is more desirable, someone that gives more satisfactory.



It's not me who deserved someone better, it was referring to you, you deserve someone better.

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