A girl who fell down the rabbit hole

I have an irrational mind that makes peculiarity into a world of wonder and madness. Can you catch up with my sporadic train of thought? My presence is short and insidious. Tea?

solipsism

 

I’m afraid of telling everything or the significance of what changed me because in all honesty, if i keep it a secret, I can still pretend it’s fiction.

I hated school when I was little. English wasn’t my first language, but I became fluent after a few years in school. Although I became fluent, communication was still a struggle for me and in many ways, it still is. The neighborhood that I lived in was like the melting pot of everything sweet, bitter, sour, and spice. I felt very secure in my neighborhood—in all its crimes and glory. But when it was time for school, I had to travel further than most of the kids in my area. I went to a “middle class” school, (but at that time, I thought everyone was just rich) but the school didn’t necessary take me in; I was shoo away, an outcast because I wasn’t compatible to their standards. To them, I was hopeless and they sent me away for additional “help.”  Naturally, I fell behind. But that’s okay, I should have taken the initiative to study by myself because screw them; I never needed them anyway, right? But the topic isn’t entirely about the inadequacy of our education system. No, the thing that I struggled the most while in school was their lack of consideration and ignoring/shunning everything that was beyond their social norms. Maybe because I was in a “middle class” school, they expected every one of us to come from a well off family and that everything in our life was just simple and dandy.

childhood drawings of sailor moon

childhood drawings of sailor moon

I dreaded the stupid ‘My Hero’ essay contest—it’s almost like a slap in the face. For some odd reason, almost, if not all, the kids elected their mothers and fathers as their heroes. I never entered the contest (I lie, I wasn’t eligible to enter…but that’s a different story for a different time); I never had a proper hero growing up (unless you can count Cat Woman or some other fictional characters with morals that’s a bit askew). It was a full-blown contest. We all had to sit there during the class assembly and wait for the contestants to reveal the identities of their heroes and their reasoning behind it. The first contestant was a boy, not from my class though. The said boy opened his essay reading the following line: “My hero is my dad.” I was dumbfounded. Did I hear right? (You would think that after the 10th contestant, it would have knocked me out of my state of shock and confusion, but nope, I was still in awe with everything). I’ll always remember this moment. I couldn’t comprehend how it was possible. Something’s wrong with me.

And from there, many more replicas of this feeling kept reoccurring throughout my life—reminding me what I don’t have and how abnormal that was. Mind you, I shouldn’t be comparing my life with other people’s life but I was young and I was confused. Think of it like…it was my first time being exposed to what families are really like because it really was my first exposure—my first realization.

Beside the essay contest, there was always this “open house” event or any school events where the school invites the students’ family to participate in their child’s academic-babble. Events like these always made me feel insecure; I was always that one kid standing there like an idiot because all the other kids were enjoying themselves with their families while I’m just there. Parents would congratulate their kids with praises, smiles, laughters, and hugs. I felt alone, but the weird thing is, I never sought out anyone to make my loneliness go away. I think the problem (is it a problem?) is that I was born into it and I don’t know what it is like to feel any other way. However, I naively thought that my family would magically change and morph into a real family like how the sitcoms portrayed them. (Oh, sitcoms, you misguided my little world). I was a naive child.   (more…)

Funeral

I like the peace
In the backseat
I don’t have to drive
I don’t have to speak
I can watch the countryside
And I can fall asleep

My family tree’s
Losing all it’s leaves
Crashing towards the driver’s seat
The lightning bolt made enough heat
To melt the street beneath your feet

Alice died
In the night
I’ve been learning to drive
My whole life
I’ve been learning

♫ [Arcade Fire] In the Backseat

Read more

dear nyuu

 

~nuuu too lazy to actually use my camera to document things, so I’m just gonna use my phone’s camera. Speaking of camera, I borrowed a photography book from one of my friend a few weeks back; however, I haven’t gotten the time to look over it…since I’ve been busy with other things but but…I’m excited to learn new stuff /good

youngling -taken on galaxy s5

Anywho, I’ve been reading a lot of Dear Coquette these past few weeks. I’m late to following her blog, but seriously, I’m hooked on her witty insight on life and other annoying aspects of life. Albeit, I do not take her advice personally, I still find them entertaining and helpful in a lot of ways. Has anyone else read her blog before? I highly recommend her if you haven’t. Yes, she’s brutal, but she makes valid points. Dear Coquette is anonymous, so her identity is a huge mystery and quite frankly, I prefer it that way. I like the mystery, she can be a dude for all I know, but who cares? I admire the pure bluntness of her wisdom. It’s also really humorous or am I just being sadistic?

frannerd devil

(Frannerd sticker from LINE app)

Yeah, I am pretty much addicted to using the above emoticon/sticker from the LINE app. I can seriously just end each sentences or thought with the above sticker and it’ll still make me giggle /lovely  If only I can make such cunning expression in real life… oh, the possibilities!

beauty night

(Frannerd sticker from LINE app)

facial sheet masks everywhere!Also, I’ve been really into facial sheet masks /puuunniiii Sure, I’ve used them years ago, but I’ve always been way too lazy to keep up with them, so I always end up with expired left overs /teaar I know, wasteful… I’m sorrieee. Perhaps, because I’m older now and I enjoy “beauty” time a bit more because it’s really relaxing. I’ve always been the type that likes to multitask so, I can’t really sit still unless I’m listening to music…well, sometimes I end up twirling around, but that’s a different story /smirkk So far, I seem to be liking all the inexpensive sheet masks, the ones that you can find in your local asian grocery stores, the prices ranges from .98 cents to 1.50~ish. It really locks in the moisture, which got me thinking…maybe I can achieve the same effect by using very fine but sturdy cotton pads squares/rounds and soak it up with serums and moisturizer and apply that onto my face?  (more…)

clockwork

My mind has been going haywire ever since I stopped blogging. It’s not that I took a break from blogging; it’s more like me being unable to focus—too busy running away from the moment, but at the same time, trying to catch up with the present. Essentially, blogging is what keeps me a bit sane—despite the insanity that I sometime spill onto here.

I’m not sure if this remedy is healthy, but for the past year or so, I literally cannot function properly without music—the kind where I have to plug my ears with headphones and listen to music on maximum volume. Otherwise, I get anxiety attacks when I don’t. Like clockwork, everything around me starts to crumble and the vibration of people’s movement and voices starts to hurt me. I don’t know why. No matter what the music is, it pieces my life back together…it just doesn’t necessarily put the correct pieces in the right places, so in the end, it all falls apart again.

I guess I need to shut the world off for several hours in a day or else I’ll end up feeling very anxious and the uneasiness spoils my vision. Like a drug and I’m highly dependent on it. I don’t think I can function without it. This is a temporary fix that I need each day. What has happened to me?

/uo But look, something cute:

fairy blue *alpaca

(more…)