Love-- Myth or Fact

I don't believe in Love. Lust yes, but not Love.

Tell me. How humanely possible would it be to love a person with average aesthetic qualities based on inner beauty alone with all your heart? Lets be honest here. We don't. But we try. And that justifys love about as much as we wonder what would it be like to actually have our crushes sleeping next to us at night except for the person whom we got married to to keep the wolf from the door.

The terrible patronization of trying to love a person who loves you with all your heart repeats its cycle endlessly and sometimes thinking like that brings me some comfort to my single loveless and unloved status when I see yet another couple eating the faces off each other on the bus.

But honestly though. I would rather have a short relationship with someone I love so much I would wake up every day in the morning thinking how great it was that I didnt die in the night, and more importantly-loves me back in return, then to settle for a long one with someone whom well, I know I could learn to like but just not right now.

Whats the point of entering a relationship when you only like the idea of having a lovair? And its so ridiculous how many of us don't love our bf/gf the way we feel for our crushes- Unless your lover in question IS your crush but we both know chances of that happening are heart shatteringly low and there is always the possibility that the roles reverse and your crush is the one trying to learn to like you. In which I believe is the que to break it up with him already girlfriend. ( Read and learn Laura.)

I only believe true love exists among both aesthetically and spiritually beautiful couples. The ones who hit the jackpot when their genes got distributed and got touched by the hand of the inner beauty fairy as they make their way into the world. Lust exists only for commoners like us.

Shallow but true.

Because only a beautiful person both inside and out makes us think about them 24 hours a day and do stupid things like going on a starvation diet for a week. And only a second beautiful person can attract another beautiful person in such a stupid obsessive way.

But we all still keep our hopes us anyway, that true love still exists out there for inner beauty.

I used to. I no longer do now though.

Loving in the first place shouldn't even be about learning.

Extreme-ness is sex.

I want to know what its like to live a life so out of control you can't think straight, the only way to seek comfort is to drive yourself deeper into the very core of the craziness of it all because the last chance for turning back into the light had been forsakened and destroyed.

I want to feel the blood pounding in my head, the taste of rancid metal in my mouth, the fierce rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins, a high so euphoric and breath taking that I instantly cease to mentally exist but become one with it. I want to be so corrosive and mutilated that nobody can help me. Fear would be my friend.

Or.

Living a manicured perfect life of everpresent control, to be the best in everything that I do and to propel myself forward so far nobody can catch up. To be the new face of perfectness that its painful. Heaping success upon success in one perfect stack with no failures allowed to topple it down. To scream, cry and bleed so badly I need to extricate myself but still stubbornly keeping the finger on the pulse because, there is no other way out and certainly no room for being no.2 at anything.

Becayse living a mundane, dishwater life is just so so so bland.

PS: I just realised i promised natalie i wld join tt chinese press journalism thingy by chuah soon soon! OMG WHAT HAVE I DONE??!

ME.

Talking to people is just difficult for me. Its A Thing. The same way your skin crawls when u see a worm dangling in front of you and the way saying "giblets" might make you dizzy. Or well, maybe thats just me too.

Please don't expect me to be some english speaking westernized, Vivenne Westwood, Rachel Yamagata loving person. I am just good at writing english. Fullstop. I cannot hold a conversation in english for nuts without slipping back into my mother tongue for more than 2 minutes and I know as much english bands as you would probably know who Tanaka Roma, Monkey Majik and Bennie K are.

Its the wierd funky combination of 30 percent english and 70 percent cheena that turns me into this android whenever I have to come to school every day and I don't deny it. It bloody sucks. Feeling like the biggest anti-social person in the whole of CMM is horrible and I can't even do anything about it because thats just who we are anyway. And I certainly have no intention of changing who I am.

Who am I to fly in the face of tradition anyway?

The moment of getting used to feeling like this is taking a hundred years to arrive. I am still waiting, but I wldnt bet on it arriving anytime this century and I would probably be dead by then. Though if given a choice, I would splat myself all over Chuah Soon Soon's desk so she would have something to remember for a lifetime.

Life isn't supposed to be this hard.

I heart Japan and everything about it. I scored 3 A1s for chinese, higher chinese and english. I never speak english if I can help it. I noe the 7 hokkien curses off the top of my head and can recite the oricon charts backwards and forwards in whichever order you like.

I literally cannot sustain a conversation in english for more than 5 minutes even though I average a novel every week. I am kind, patient and unfortunately introverted. I hate designer labels and their cow monogramed bags. I love Grey's Anatomy. Alot. But I don't believe for one second that life can be like that. I am selectively bitchy and a terrible shopaholic. I think I am intelligent, but sometimes I doubt myself.













........






And someone should come around right now and tell me that I'm not the only alien on this planet. Thank you.

Like the way studying doesnt raise your marks, dieting makes you fat.

I mean, given a choice, would you rather be skinny and depressed or fat and happy? I for one gained 5kg this entire holiday- it is so needlessly redundant to say that im incredibly suicidal that I don't even do it anymore.

None of my anorexic clothes fit; my jeans only go up to my thighs.

At this rate, if I still can't find anything to wear i would have to go to school butt naked tomorrow.

But I'm not worried. No I am not. Because if I can lose 5kg last year in 2 mths during the hols, there certainly is no problem dropping the lard this sem seeing that I have the added factor of seeing Mr. Yap and Ms Chuah for 6hours every week, for the next 2 months.

Whatever that doesnt kill you makes you stronger.

Now would someone pass me that cut-throat razor please.

Wasted Time.

Wasted time bring about pain, regret and trouble--We know this. The only problem lies in that we arent aware enough to fix it. As a result it goes on every day in our lives and I sometimes wonder what would it have been like if I was wasn't such a workshy lazy whore and grabbed every single opportunity that life had left on my doorstep before it got snatched off by someone else.

The solution is simple. But it requires guts, hardwork and sometimes even pride, which divides the man from the boys when a situation grinds down to these factors-- Do we fling in the towel, half-heartedly delude yourself that there wasn't any point in trying anyway or do we grind our teethand get on with it?

I am definitely a candidate for the loser category. Too many things have slipped through my fingers that I am quite certain life would have been a very different story had I fought harder for my dreams but tt's just it--I don't. I am not strong enough and I want to change that.

I suppose it isnt so much thinking how worth it would it be fighting for what we want, but whether we even give in a fight or not.

PS: Hope you guys lurve the new song.

Spain

There is a 75% chance I might be going to Spain in June.

Omg. I can't wait. I can't wait. I can't wait.

update

Believe it or not, We are all more fortunate then we think we are, even though we don't always know it.

Sorry to start off the post with such hippy-type talk. I was about to change this post into some intelligent disectment of the human destiny but fuck it, Im not Daniel or Leraine, so im going to tell it straight up.

Recent events at work have made me feel so guilty about the way i fret over my orange peel skin and my utter despair at my abnormally humongous round head. ( which is true on both accounts, but however.)

We all tend to become so wrapped up by the problems in our lives that we tend to become so consumed by it we are blinded to the bigger problems that are occuring outside the paper thin boundary of our life and others around us. I don't suppose its selfish to be wrapped up in our own problems but sometimes we have to realize that having a couple of zits on a first date isnt that big a disaster as compared to the little girls in cambodia being sold off in the market like cattle by their own parents.

Satisfication with what we alrd have and accomplished can sometimes be a good thing too.

Whining about the size of my thighs and the size of my head and the state of my skin seem so pathetically trival that Im so ashamed. I should be damn glad that at the very least I have legs to begin with.

But sometimes, I just can't help it. Sorry, I am still, at the end of the day, a shallow bitch after all.

So what if I will never find love? So what if I will never be skinny? Wth if my GPA will never ever see the light of day?

At least im not a joy-rider to a man thrice my age and married to Ms Chuah.

Doing myself in

Work keeps the demons away. It makes me feel human(ish), worthy and less invisible. Because holing up at home on day thats been pissing outside since morning has frayed my nerve endings terribly and there is only so much time a person can have in their hands before they lose it.

Now, if only work didnt gave me such an inexistent income and gave my fellow collegues big brains to go with their big hearts.

I know that people do get that random, horrible bout of depression now and then. Which is why I thought I didnt have a problem; probably too much hormones in the blood and a lack of sugar. Nothing a little chocolate and an episode of Ghost Whisperer can't solve.

Or so I thought. days dragged to months and now its a full year and I am still feeling it. Even when I'm ridding rings around myself with work it still stays around as a suppressed undercurrent of , I dunno, negative energy i suppose, till the next time I have nothing to do and it explodes in my face.

The perfect reason why Holidays arent all that it had been cocked up to be.

I wish I could say that it is just a pre-menstrual phrase thing and that I would get over it soon enough but I cant. And whining about it is not only such a terrible turn-off, it hangs a neon sign over you that spells L-O-S-E-R , shining like a beacon for the whole world to see. Ranting on my blog to let off abit of steam is the only thing I can do.

I wish I would understand why I am feeling this way. But I don't.

And this really sucks. Because half a million Africans are starving to death and yet I'm still being such a stupid suicidal self obsessed bitch.

Not like I can help it though.

Because its hard.

When the going gets tough, I usually run away from it.

Well, most of the time anyway. Much as I would have love to say " I get tougher" with a low suffering grimace ,much like Michelle Pfeiffer in Dangerous Liaisons in the scene where she eventually dies a beautiful death amidst scented flowers in her own backyard in a Gucci Gown when she couldnt cope with the fact that her husband was a 2 timing aldulterer man whore. Not that it matters of course.

Reality Bites.

Working at GV wasnt just about the money, not that it actually matters anyway seeing that I would probably be better off paying them money as compared to the poxy sum they give me. No it was something else.

Which I can't really say since blogs are public and my course mates gave new meaning to the word bitchy. Although I should really cop on and get on with being Me. Not the impersonator that goes around in school looking at you like you killed my family and burned down my house. Because I am insecurity in a pack, and I'm not really afraid to say it either.

Not just saying that because of all that New Man thing going on, what with the 21st century men inheriting centuries of domestic abilities past down from ancient generations while the wife in question couldnt boil water without setting the house on fire. No thats because Im more honest ( and sensitive I admit) then most and we all have our weak moments no matter we like it or not.

Anyway as i was saying before I totally derailed your train of thought, GV was more like a social experiment. It was a test for myself; to break up the barrier I set up around people and be the person that I am. Which is freaking ridiculously hard even after 2 weeks working. It isnt more like I Dont Want to as I Can't- All those years boxing myself up have finally came back and bite me in the ass by proving my lack of social skills.

And things are only going to get even harder seeing that i have just recieved my new schedule and i would be training at the Candy Bar-- 24 hour interaction at all times.

a.k.a Hell.

I have a choice. I can always quit, throw in the towel like i have always done and choose the easy way out while coming up with a hundred different excuses to blind myself from the loser that I am or face it like a man with 2 iron balls and brazen it out.

But fear is a great temptation.

I dont know, i don't Know, I Don't Know.

Hope.

Being right about things all the time isnt that great as it seems to be.

I am very self aware unconciously, even though my concious self tend to shy away from things that I don't like to face even when I know that eventually I would have to, sooner or later. Life's wierd that way-- Knowing the ineveitable yet trying to find all the loopholes around it because we keep having hope that maybe it would'nt turn out the way that it would.

But it always turn out the way we first assume anyway, because like all things experienced for the first time, we are still clear in our judgement before it clouds us over with time.

I suppose this is a little hard to understand and i mightnt be making much sense, but nevermind.

I am going to stop working once the school officially starts. As hard as it is to believe, i think I'm going to be very sad leaving GV. So I wasnt Mr. Sociable, but at least I was more at home there than I ever was in school. Which makes me wonder what kind of person am I anyway, being able to socialise better with the ITE students and 16 year old drop-outs then everyone from CMM.

I am from a different world I think, but I never once did felt I belonged in it. Which makes me wonder if I am really a closet Beng at heart, just that I am in english literate, japanese speaking, O'level cert holding denial. Its hard to feel like I barely belong to the human race. People say that we are suppose to know our "other half" the moment we lay eyes on them which I think is perfect rubbish, but I always harbour a little hope that maybe they are right.

Hope, its a terrible thing.

Okay, enough of all this up-my-bum stuff. So i went for dance class yesterday. Ubercool. Gave me fierce resolution to never eat again which wore off the minute I reached home and saw dinner on the table. I am so going to go for dance class every day after school even though it gave me terrible buttaches.

Our instructor was a great man for shaking his bonbon and dropping it like its hot.

Thank god he's below age 30.

...I'm going to miss my hot collegue when I quit. Boo.