It's not a pretty sight when you and your mom pms at the same time.

I set the air conditioner to the lowest temperature, went to shower, came back into the room with my body still wet and sat right where the air conditioner was blowing, just in hope that I can catch a really bad fever and let it take over my brain for a couple of days so I can take a break from thinking and feeling so much.

I had a very nice day with my parents and an awesome dinner with my family, for that I am grateful. Yet I've also spent this beautiful day waiting for something that never came. It was not a pleasant feeling to check your phone again and again or jerk at the slightest tingling sensation that you'd mistaken for a vibration, only to realize there's nothing at all.

All I got was a phone call.

After a whole day, that was all.

On the bright side it means I don't need you as much as I think I do. What happened today proved everything.

I can't even bring the tips of my lips to a pleasant curve now.

I'm sorry, I really don't know what to feel for you, because honestly I don't think I should be dealing with all this shit when my day could have been perfect.

All I asked for was a sms, or some form of contact. All those breaks in between, or before you fell asleep, what were you doing?

You proved to me a hell lot of things today. I've seen and understood, thank you very much.

Sometimes I feel like I've been hit back to ground zero.

I'm really upset.

No words can describe how terribly, horribly, painfully upset I am.

I just went to check out the semester issues.

There's only one good news, and aplenty of bad news.

My whole poly life looks as screwed up as it can be.

I envisioned it; and I feel suicidal.

Fuck my life.

Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere

I planned to sleep early tonight.
I used plan in past tense for a reason.
Look at the time.

At about 2am, Ben went to bed. So I told myself I ought to sleep too cause I don't wanna delay my cheesy meal anymore.
Then, my stomach started to complain. Fine, I cooked noodles and sausages and I really felt so guilty for eating so much I wished I was bulimic.
Adding on, I spent about 45 minutes in the washroom brushing my teeth and ruining my already ruined complexion. Sometimes I really hope my fingers aren't that active when it comes to issues on my face.
And who knew? It's 5.45am now.
I've spent the last hour doing Facebook quizzes.

What the fuck is happening to me?


Owl City is really awesome. I've got Vanilla Twilight stuck in my head, not that I'm complaining.

I slept at 8am for the third consecutive day already. I can't even use words like 'today' and 'yesterday' anymore because my day-night orientation is totally screwed and sometimes I can't even remember which day it is. Time and again I told myself I ought to change myself back into a diurnal animal but I failed all the same. It's taking such a huge toll on my complexion that it's not even funny. I woke at 5pm today for the third time, just in time for dinner. To think I was still planning to fix up a nice, cheesy meal for myself for lunch today. Epic fail.

Then again, I thought about how soon school's gonna start and I realized it's not easy to come by in your life a period like this, when all I get to do is seriously nothing more than sleep, eat, watch tv, use the computer, eat somemore, and go out and have a good time with my friends. Of course, minus all the parental-induced household chores I have to do, this is not quite bad a life to live. Aimless, idle all day long. Not for life, duh. But taking this as a break from the tumultuous ten years I've spent in the education sector, it definitely is a good way to recharge myself before I stumble back into the books (or rather, heavy usage of my laptop) and projects again.

Somehow I think I should be helping my mom with the household chores, like the ironing of clothes and doing the laundry and mopping the floor, because I know those 3 useless boys will never contribute. Although yes, my mom still do most of my stuff for me and I'm living like a spoilt brat, but at least I say thank you and help out when she asks for it. Well, hey, at least I'm utilizing my limbs right?

Collage

On a first note, I realized my post contents are always pretty jumbled up. A little bit of this, a little bit of that. Reminds me of the Powerpuff Girls.

Anyway, to start it off, I'd like to express my utmost gratitude to my stepfather, who bought me this gorgeous pink Macbook cover from the States. We ordered it on eBay, and the quality isn't as good though the price was a staggering S$50 for 2 pieces of pink plastic. Nonetheless, it's really pretty. So all we can hope for now is for the plastic to live and not crack for as long as time permits. :3


*

Being a fan of beauty, I've always wanted to go for plastic surgery. And I believe even at this young age when I can't even support myself with a stable income (gosh, I'm still schooling), many other young girls want the exact same thing.

Girls, being girls, we'll never get enough. No matter how many times people tell us that we're perfect the way we are, we'll never think ourselves as perfect, because there'll forever be this part of us being the ugly one, the imperfect one, the one that needs to be worked on. Noses too flat, lips too thin, eyes too small, cheekbones too undefined, anything, everything. And whenever we express our intentions to go under the knife to correct these physical errors, we get slammed.

People telling us we don't need it, bombarding us on the cons of plastic surgery. But it's just ironic, isn't it? When they tell you that, at the same time they're going crazy over celebrities with painfully beautiful facial features. Take for example, Ben (I'm sorry I couldn't resist). He loves Katy Perry. And no doubt, who doesn't? Those huge, deep silverish-green pair of eyes and noses so sharp and prominent, tell me, which girl doesn't hope that they can be Katy for a day, or for the rest of their lives? Of course, I don't know if Katy has went for plastic surgery herself and I am definitely not implying that she had went for one by mentioning her in this post. I'm just trying to prove how beautiful people like her makes us, the uglier ones, stop dead in our tracks, admire her every feature and curve, and then look back and scrutinize ourselves and say, "How the fuck did I turn out like this?" Neither am I trying to say that all girls should go for plastic surgery just to look like their boyfriends' favourite female celebrity for their sake, because that is plain dumb and that girl should just jump of a building, you disgraced the whole female population for being such a dog to your boyfriend. What I meant is, even if your boyfriend doesn't like your new look, who gives a damn? You're much prettier now, the boys will start flooding in. Who cares about what you think then, loser ex?

Generally, people think that we go for plastic surgery just to look pretty. True that, since the main purpose of going for one is to look better than your present self. What people don't see is the aftermath, the confidence we can get from our better looks, even walking down Orchard Road will feel so much better with the stares of admiration instead of mockery. I can get so much more confidence from my looks alone, not to mention my figure which will lead me to my next big worry (another girl issue, it's pretty obvious). Actually, I'm more concerned with my figure than my looks. Ah well. Maybe I'm just another superficial bitch who rants all day about how fat she is while putting a spoonful of rice into her mouth. Ironic much, no?

I shall drop plastic surgery and come back to it on another day. Too much things to consider.



I really feel like copying certain parts of her post and paste it here, Ben. You know who I'm referring to.

Because everything she said was so true. So fucking true. Most of the girls out there who thinks the way I do are fully in the know what we're getting ourselves into and what is exactly wrong with our mindset. But we can't help it. We just can't.

We're not born this way. We're not born to be so concerned with the way we look, with our figure, and with our body weight. I'm not blaming anyone here, but it's the truth. The magazines are flooded with so many runway models it looks like they're running a huge model flea market. Celebrities on TV clad in revealing clothing, flaunting their tiny legs and tiny arms. Tabloids with headings saying that Britney Spears had gained dozens of pounds when she is just my size. How can I not feel fat? How can I still feel comfortable with myself and my body when the standards of beauty are being set by the global media that's so rampant? We never ever see celebrities whose sizes are actually bigger than Hilary Duff (and she became horribly thin after she matured from Lizzie Mcguire).





And you have reporters making comparisons of 'before' and 'after' shots of these stars. You see them flashing headlines with the 'thin' word always bolded. But you will never see some form of advice in their entries telling the teen girls not to follow in their footsteps and be happy with your current self. No, because being thin is a pawn for the media to thrive. Alright, that sounds a little weird, but nevermind, I doubt many people will read this entry anyway so my own understanding would suffice. Anyway, when girls idolize these stars, naturally they wanna be like them. They wanna do what these stars do. So, my Hilary went from 130 pounds to a mere 100, I shall do that too! Because we have too many negative role models being portrayed as the right ones, too many young girls trying to be somebody they're not. And I don't deny that I'm one of them.

This is just depressing.