Bitching Around (actually I'm just being honest... and now a bitch?)

Okay. This is really really sensitive, so I'm going to change the scenario a bit. As in, change the whole story. But my annoyance is still the same, chill.

Anyway, I am a person who is very, very stubborn (tenancy or pigheadedness, you choose) and I am quite straightforward sometimes. Well, I'm working on being subtle (because even honesty is the best policy, it still stings people. WHATEVER) and kind and all that stuff. But the thing is, I have a limit. As in, a limit for being really patient or subtle or kind or let people down slowly, especially when that person is bugging me for like, a thousand times. Shit.

I'll admit I am quite harsh, and definitely not SWEET at all (heaven forbid), so don't expect any bullshit fake kindness for me. Oh yeah, I'll be kind and gentle, but not when I was annoyed, PUH-LEEZE.

There's that thing: I'm not exactly a "camp" person. Or you can say, I really hate outdoor activities, i.e.: having fun, go camping, hiking or whatever... especially you have to do it with a big fake smile plastered on your face and say, "Oh hey, I'm SOOOOO having a GREAT time." when you're so NOT. So no, I don't enter any kind of camp or games or something. (and yes, please don't ask me, I'll bite)

But the thing is, when you resolute to be good and kind and understanding and be oh-so Mother Theresa-like (only I can be ancient, but not as kind as her), you simply can't let people down harshly. Except you're so pissed off when that particular person kept bugging you about it and want to know the freaking reason why you can't (or don't, in my case) go to that damn outdoor activities. Just saying.

I received an invitation from someone to enter some technically-not-outdoor-activities-but-still-need-to-pretend-you-enjoy-yourself-thing. The thing is, I'm not available that day, and I don't feel like going (okay, this is a huge part). But the reason I'm not available is that I promised my little brother to go shopping with him and have fun (he wants to go for like, ages, I just can't disappoint him when I canceled it so many times before, right?) and stuff, but I just said I don't want to go to that particular thing. And I really don't feel like it. Argh.

And I didn't explain or anything, and I forgot to be polite (though I don't know why politeness end up in this, WHAT THE HELL) and I made someone disappointed. Shit. It's like I'm back in primary school all over again, DISAPPOINTED? Well, people need to LEARN to live with disappointment, dude. Sigh.

Anyway, that someone said I ignored the text sent, but actually (I'm not going to lie) I did ignore that text. I DIDN'T KNOW THAT IT'S THAT SOMEONE WHO SENT IT. Hello, I was actually engrossed in TV, and I knew my phone vibrated but like hell I opened it (I didn't open it). Then that person sent another text to me telling me that I ignored that text before, how could I explain? I'm like totally whatever.

You might say "oh, you need to go explain so you can clear that misunderstanding or stuff" but I'm not in some stupid Korean Drama or a really bad soap, okay? Explaining sounds like you did something wrong but you're clearing up. NOT.

Anyway, I'm a bitch enough (muahaha) so does it really matter I'm being really sort of not polite (mean, yes, I know) even though it's sort of a misunderstanding (sort of is because that I really don't want to go, NO REASON. Do you have to turn up a reason for POOPING or BREATHING? It's part of my make-up to hate going out, okay?) and stuff. Whatever. I won't go and clear up, we're not kids anymore. It seemed really idiotic. And childish. Whatever.

So, obviously I was bitching around unintentionally.

Lesson learnt : Bitches can't be kind (or couldn't avoid some kind of misunderstanding to be kind) so suck it up.

Exhausted (zZzZzZzZ)

I seriously can't believe I slept through X Factor, just because I was way too tired. Seriously, I can't believe it. Mom woke up in the middle of the night and found out I was asleep but that dumb TV was still on and she had to turn it off for me. Seriously.

Why am I so tired? (If you notice I am using present tense because I AM tired, and really really exhausted) Oh well, because of my new job. I am a helper in a tuition center, and my job description includes teaching little kids (or some not really little ones). You think teaching a bunch of seven-year-old (my table) isn't that hard or tired. But let me tell you something, picture the little kids need to describe some durians and that they don't even know HOW to write the word "durian" in Chinese, it's pretty sad. 

It's not their fault, but it's my responsibility to teach them and help them to finish their homework on time. Not to mention that I also need to sigh their homework book and teach them and also care for their safety and ALSO make sure that they keep their lovely mouths SHUT. That's sort of tough for a newcomer like me but that's not an excuse... (sadly).

It's pretty embarrassing where the other teachers yelled at your table because your students are whispering for YOU. Yes, my darkest nightmare is when about five or six students raise up their tiny palms and wanting me to teach them. Not to mention the remaining four are still talking and playing and that one little kid are wandering off and you need to catch him or her back so him or her won't go AWOL. 

Yes, so I went home and still have to do my chores (my brother was so heartless, I helped him out but he STILL didn't want to help me) and well, I just sucked it up and finished all the chores and my legs were like freaking sticks. Not that they're slim (hell no) but they're SO STIFF. For a person who doesn't exercise much (ME ME ME) or doesn't exercise at all (um... guilty?), standing all day long almost killed me. I am SO surprise I survive all this. Ugh.

Still, after missing that tape of X Factor, I literally go crazy, because I missed the performance I wanted to see so badly (ALEX & SIERA). I. Am. So. Pissed. Off.

And today is also an exhausting day for me, too. No, for your info, I didn't go to work today. But I DID did something that is really really exhausting, and really boring. Yes, I went for undang. I just sat there like an idiot for like 6 hours and listened to the law and the precautions and all that. The worst part is, I was in a hurry to pee but the person wouldn't stop talking. My bladder literally burst, you know. Sometimes I really like to know WHY all these embarrassing things need to happen to me. Just so typical of my luck.

Anyway, I'm going to song practice later, but I really hope I won't nod off or something. HELP ME!

(P.S. One thing: I would never ever sleep in public, because.... shhh.... I um, snore.)

Some "stuff" I planned

So the holiday is just around the corner (three days, to be exact), and apparently, I have some planning to do. Okay, I actually already finish planning everything way before I have my finals. Hey, a girl needs to have some motivation to go through the excruciating process of finals.

Actually, I already started doing some of my holiday plans now, since it's almost like holiday to me right now. No classes, no studying, no NOTHING. Just sitting there like an idiot in school, and chat away (which reminds me that I forgot to bring my journal to school today, ugh).

Anyway, I started my job yesterday (it was so tiring) and yes, that obviously indicates that I PASSED MY INTERVIEW. Yes, I so can't believe that I got my answer just the day after I went for the interview. It was so cool, except that I had to stand all day long to watch over kids and that some kids were really really annoying. But apart from that, everything is okay. And I treated the fact that I have to stand while I'm working as a part of my exercise (the truth is I don't do any exercises).

Besides that, I want to start a new novel, actually. I already drew down the plot of my story, but I'm still struggling with the settings. I read a lot of novels and all those novels have their settings in the U.S., so it's sort of like I already got used to that. But it seems really weird to place my settings in the U.S., since I never ever have been there and that I don't really think that's a good idea. I mean, it's totally weird for me to write since I don't really know the place and all that. 

I sort of consider another option that is to create my own place, but I also struggle with that choice, too. I don't know... but a place that's imaginary is really hard to relate to, especially I'm not writing stuff like Lord Of The Rings or Star Wars. I mean, COME ON. 

So that left me my last option, that is to place the setting in Malaysia, which I am SO familiar with since hello, this is my country. But it seems really weird because I don't actually SEE my story takes place in here, you understand? 

THAT IS SO FRUSTRATING, I SO WANNA PULL MY HAIR OFF EXCEPT THAT I AM AFRAID THAT I WILL THEN BECOME EVEN UGLIER THAN A BEAST. 

Excuse me now, but I'm going to wallow and think the shit out of my brain and try to wreck out a setting. 

Wish me luck (I NEED IT I SO NEED IT). Ciao.

Dream

I was in a dream.

That was my first thought, and I was aware of that. How odd, I was dead to the world, yet I can sense everything so clear and define... Was I really asleep?

It was so beautiful. I was in a meadow, which was darken by the shades of leaves. Yet, rays of sunlight penetrated through the spaces, lighting up the meadow and painted the flowers with colors. I was shocked and amazed, by this wonderful scene before me, but never surprise. 

I'd been through this dream so many times, till I lost count of them. Every glance felt like a new one, every touch was so sensitive beneath my delicate fingertips. I drew in a breath of wonder, and sat down quietly to wait for the normal routine in the dream.

I was in a white dress, so puffy and dreamy, hanging fitfully on every part of my body, clung onto every lines and angles. I smiled a little. At least I could afford to be pretty in my dreams, which I would never be in real life.

Let me enjoy this few moments, and I knew I would wake up in resignation and frustration, greeting another day with full grimace.

I expected everything in this dream, because I had replayed them over and over and over again whenever I was awake, hoping that I could stay in this dream forever...

I closed my eyes, and let my fingers wandered besides me, pulling and feeling the green, wet grass; smelling the wet but comfy smell in the air; and let feelings hit me like tides, till I couldn't bear; till I wasn't one anymore.

Without my sight, the other senses heighten as I continue to enjoy the beautiful without sight. Sunlight beat my eyelids, painting them a rich color of red. The end of my mouth curved into a resentful smile.

I heard footsteps coming my way, and my grin widen in pleasure. 

The footsteps stopped right in front of me, blocking the sunlight as my eyelids battered. 

I heard some whooshing sounds and a low thud, and I smelt his sweet smell, hitting my every senses, making me so blissful.

I opened my eyes slowing, tracing his every angles and every details, and saving his eyes for the last, knowing that I would lost my head over his smoldering, butter-scotch eyes. He was heartbreakingly beautiful, made my heart stopped for a while as I recovered my breathing slowly.

He suffocated me with himself. 

My eyes filled up as I scolded myself for losing every precious moment of this dream. I must appreciate everything now, since it would fade off just in the matter of seconds. 

He gave me a little smile, and I could hear my breath hitched. He pulled my hand and pressed it over his white shirt, just the spot where his heart lay, where I could feel his strong pulses under my palm. 

He was so warm, so real... yet, I still knew that this was just a dream. 

Who was he? Why did he appear in my dream? Was I insane? Did I lose my mind?

"Who are you?" I wanted to ask, but the question never ever came out of my throat. He never spoke in my dream, never. I was used to that, but how much I wished he would talk to me, so that I could at least pretended that he was real. 

But this time, he took me by surprised. His gaze was so gentle as they stared into mine with deep affections and intensity. I took an unstable breath.

"You'll know me, soon." His lips moved, and his voice was heavenly sweet, and so soft. I felt my jaw fell open. This was a first, and this was not the usual anymore. 

What had happened?

All of a sudden, everything was black, and he was gone. I was too shocked even to scream, though my mouth was wide open. I couldn't even suck in a breath of air. 

"Oh!" My eyes flew opened and the spinning fan greeted me with the whooshing sounds. Tears flooded my eyes and disappointment passed through my every uneven heartbeats. I tried to hold back the tears but the disappointment hurt so much, like a rusted knife twisting in my stomach, treating my intestines like spaghetti. 

I sat up and my head spun but I ignored both feelings and physical pains. I glanced at the clock and my eyes flew wide opened. 

"Shit." I cursed as I fumbled to get into the bathroom, thrusting my toothbrush into my mouth and grabbed my usual working suit. 

Damn, they're wrinkled and I was running out of time. I fumbled the cupboard for another while and decided it was all wasted efforts. I would go with the wrinkled suit now, since I didn't have a choice anymore. I crossed my fingers and hoped that boss was in a good mood today to forgive my lack of appearance, since he always claimed that appearance was everything.

I hurried my bedhead into a ponytail and try my very best to smooth out the wrinkles on my suit. No such luck. I sighed and grabbed my bag and rushed through the door and into the buzzing street. 

I ran headlong down the street, eventually ignoring every stares that bored into my back. I was really, really late. Why didn't my alarm rang? I usually was a very organized person, I wouldn't missed out such important detail, so vital for my job. I could lose it if I wasn't careful enough. 

Wait... I calmed myself down a little, as little question marks made their ways up my bird-nesting head. Wait a minute...

Then I flushed for my own ignorance, hoping that no one could read minds here. 

I was such a fool. Or maybe I was overwhelmed by the dream this morning, so I got lost the track of time today. Today was Saturday. No wonder the coffee shops were full of people in shorts and spaghetti straps. I flushed again for my own foolishness. 

Maybe I was in for a break. I smiled a little, and walked a little more down the sidewalk and turned into my favorite coffee shop. 

The coffee shop was buzzing and full of people. I got my usual seat by the window side so I could get the best view while enjoying my favorite coffee and my usual brownies. I was quite unusual for anyone, even the waiter said so, that I had brownies for breakfast instead of normal set of bread and coffee. But I was not a "normal" girl, and was not afraid of putting on weight. The only thing I concerned about--and thought about-- was that dream. 

The waiter didn't have to take my order since I was an old customer here and I never even once changed my orders. I didn't like changes, I thought. I was stubborn, as my mom always like to say that I was suffering from pigheadedness.

I smiled a little from the pleasant memories and the unusual scene from the dream completely took over my mind as I took a little bite of brownies and sipped a little of coffee. Hmm... Latte, my favorite. 

I stared out at the floor-length window absentmindedly, replaying the dream over and over again in my mind. 

He said I'll know him soon... what did that indicates? I frowned and took another bite accompanied by a sipped of the hot coffee. 

Then something caught my eyes and I felt my breath stopped altogether. 

It wasn't... was it...?

It wasn't the usual white shirt or that pair of loose, faded-blue jeans. No, he was wearing a long sleeved grey cotton shirt--which clung onto his every line so perfectly--and a pair of khakis pants. He walked through the sidewalk so quickly and took my every breath away.

I couldn't lose him. Not now.

I threw my bill on the table and rushed out the doors. I looked frantically for him as people passed me by like cliches. I blinked away the tears, surprised by my tenacity.

And there he was, standing in front of me like a statue. His eyes were full of shock, too, like mine as his jaw dropped open, the same way as mine did. 

I took a careful step forward, afraid that if I moved too roughly, he'd disappeared into thin air. I held my breath and reached out my fingers as he mimic my every movement.

We reached until out fingers twined, and I felt a piece of me brightened. My eyes were lit by amazement, and his in wonder. His eyes were the same shade of warm butter-scotch and my vision were interrupted by my tears of joy. 

"It's you." I whispered. "It's you."

"You know me?" His lips trembled as he regarded my expression. "You know me?"

"Yes." I nodded furiously and tears fell down like waterfalls. "I know you."

His smile was so glorious, he seemed like an angel from above, and now he was down to earth to meet me. 

Oh my, oh my.

"I know you, too," He pulled me closer and buried me into his chest. Even though it was the first time we ever met, we felt like we knew each others ages ago, probably in our dreams. "You're the one in my dream."

"You're in my dream, too." I cried into his chest, so grateful that fate had brought us together... so amazingly. 

"I thought I'd never meet you in life..." His breath hitched painfully." I'm so glad you're here."

" Me too." I murmured, wondering if this was another dream, because it's so painfully wonderful for me. I shook my head in disbelief. "You're here."

He pulled me in an arm's length, and looked at me closely. Then he planted a kiss on my forehead, and asked, "Why didn't once you told me your name in our dream?"

I liked how he said "our dream", it's like we're dreaming together. 

"You didn't tell me yours, either." I stared in amazement. 

"Christian." "Belle." We both said simultaneously, and laughter bubbled from our lips and the tears all fade into distance. 

"Glad to meet you." I smiled. 

"In person." He added, and held my hand so tight. "And I'll never let you go now. Regardless."

"Regardless." I agreed. And I followed him, to our future.

Whatever fate was doing, I hope it won't stop, because I wanted to spend this lifetime, just with him. 

Forever, not just in my dream. 

Our dream.

Interview (NERVE-WRECKING)

Today is sort of a big day for me. Sort of. Sort of. All right, I'll admit, it's HUGE. Because it's practically the first interview I ever went for a job. I think I was... okay. At least I hope so.

I wasn't really nervous, but I got really really hyper there because, well, obviously I WAS excited. Way too excited, I must say. Then well, it's the old thing. You sat down, and plastered a huge smile on your face and try to look smart. Or at least not dumb.

It was cool actually, that I got to sit there and answer question, except that part I totally wrecked up the first question, I think. Because when the teacher asked me why do I want to work there, I kinda go with the honesty thing. I replied (I translated into English for this piece) : "Well, because it's holiday and I wanna earn some money plus some experience, too."

Then he looked sort of taken aback (I'm so so so so so doom) and stuttered : "Or well, you can say that you wanna learn things here, that'd be better."  Then I'm the one who sort of look taken aback. Well, that's sort of stupid. Apart from that, I think everything else was cool. At least I didn't trip over or doing weird stuff in front of the teacher like burping or pass gas or something. Then THAT would be too embarrassing.

After that I went for a test and all the question there are based on primary school standards. You can say it's easy, but hey, it's not quite easy when you're thinking WAY TOO MUCH, like I did. I sort of freaked myself out by kept telling myself that I don't know how to do. But actually I did, except the fact that some of the questions are quite weird, maybe it's... wrong? Anyway, I got okay until I hit the nilai murni part.

I was totally like "OH SHIT OH DEAR OH GOD OH MY OH ARGHHHHHHH" at that part. Seemed like I was crazy. I was. Back then. I totally forgot how to do the stupid nilai murni thing which is totally in primary school format and I only know how to write in SPM format. So I guess I just simply scribble down something according to my way (I AM SO SO DEAD AHHHHH) and hope I survive this (and it will become a total miracle).

After both the interview and the test, I went back home with my mom (she accompanied me to the interview--but basically she just sat there and read her book--because I accompanied HER to HER interview last year, so she kinda owe me one. Though she never help me in saying anything to the interviewer.) and she said the teacher had came over to talk to her. She said that the teacher told her I was brave and confident, and that I was not like the others who were shy.

That's... a good thing, right?

I don't know. Because sometimes people can mistook confidence as arrogant, and here in Malaysia, modest seems the MOST important thing. Whatever, now I can only just cross my fingers and hope that I get the job and earn my own money.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(I'm desperate)

Best Friends Forever

Remember when you're young, you like to scribble on pieces of papers, drawing some rainbows or a sun or even a few clouds and turn the white paper into something really shiny and pretty, and then you wrote all carefully down there XXX and YYY are BFF. Then you will hand out the paper to your very best friend and be like "oh, I so love you" and then you guys giggled around the car park while waiting for you parents to fetch you?

Yeah, that happened when you're young and somewhat, naive. I can say, things change when you grow up, and you know, actually sometimes the person who once was so chummy with you, isn't your real friend at all. And all that BFF stuffs were just stupid memories, indicating how naive you were back then.

I can't say I don't trust in friends anymore, because they're hardly a few counted as my friends. And that a few, only one is my best friend. Who is it? Easy: My MOM.

When I was little, I already how betrayal tasted like. I was nine, when the whole class boycotted me, for a stupid reason: Because I'm the monitor of the class. I won't say I got bullied, but something like that, yes. The one memory that is so clear to me is that one girl who passed a note to me and inside the note read: Even if you're a Christian, you're going to hell. I was quite surprised that someone will even pulled out my religion and wrote something that mean. I did nothing to them, but I did turn in the paper to the teacher. Well, eventually, they all hated me after that (PS: people will rather follow the girl because you know, she's pretty. And that's how life is, even if you're a primary school kid. Reality kicks in hard on your butt), and I can't say I blame them, that's it. But I did learn to not to pour all your heart and soul to people anymore, in case you got hurt again.

So, I'm quite a loner after that. I spoke to my mom only and well, I kinda like to be alone. I guess I sort of figure out that I'm really a loner. I can actually go on days without speaking to anyone and just with my journal. That's pretty awesome (you can try it if you won't go insane by this) actually, except my brother wouldn't stop bugging me for that.

So practically that BFF thingy to me back then was a huge joke, since I don't believe in it anymore. You know how minds are set when you're a kid, mine's too. Especially when I'm such a stubborn person. I can't say I believe in it now, but not entirely, except with my mom.

I don't really miss those days when I was all so naive and scribbled down "BFF" whenever I got the chance (or space) on my scrape books. Because for me, now, BFF is just a term. No words can really describe the real friendship you have, or once had.

Google Doodles

Almost every time I log onto Google, there MUST be a anniversary or a birthday or whatsoever of someone important. Or something close to that. And every time there's a new doodle for it. I'm totally like, whoa, that's sort of cool (I know it's pretty lame of me), because you get to know different dead people who did something really good while they lived.

Sometimes I got too bored so I just clicked the doodles and searched up the person or something. You know, boredom can do strange things to people like me. Anyway, some are really really boring to even look at, but some are pretty awesome, which you can catch a video or games or something like that. 

Okay. I'll admit. I'm weird. Since most people just doesn't notice or they just ignore the whole thing because the only reason they log on to Google is to find something. But all I do is just type in Taylor Lautner and see what's new (EEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!). 

But anyway, sometimes when they're people around me when I log onto Google and there's some new doodles about someone who's so ancient that I don't even know, I just pretended I know that dude and be all cool... until that person beside me asked "what's the occasion and who's that?" and I'll be like: "Uh..... I guess.... it's someone important." 

That, is so very embarrassing. 

Anyway, I can still pretend I know that whatever dude when I'm all by myself (so no one will ask me that stupid question. I mean, hello, how on earth I know?), and pretend I'm so smart.(muahaha)

But it there's someone beside me, I'll just... you know, maybe I'll just pass and concentrate on Facebook. That's all. 

I Hate When People...

Sometimes I wondered whether I should work on the whole honesty thing, but really, it never ever came up to my resolution lists. Because, duh, honesty hurts a LOT. But sometimes it's really really really REALLY frustrating when people don't really GET IT. I know nobody can read minds (well, I don't count Edward Cullen because he's just a fiction character), but sometimes it will be SO convenient when people can read yours, so you can seriously cut out the crap of trying to find some way to reject people or something.

(While I am typing this, the word "colloquial" kept popping into my mind, because that was how the English teacher describe my writings. Whatever, I shouldn't let this bug me when I'm typing in a BLOG and not writing a "formal" essay. Duh.)

Anyway, I think if I can't voice up in front of people about what I really hate about them doing in front of me or whatsoever, I think I can at least puke in here. Right? (though puke hardly seems like a suitable word, but hey, whatever)

Okay, here goes nothing:

1. I so hate when people trying to pry something from me and my family. Well, for instance, how much does my mom earns a month. I'm like, hello, that's SO NOT your business. Why on earth you care how much my mom earns? I am the one should be caring about that, and not some outsiders. And seriously, one thing I can guarantee you about that is: my mom doesn't earn much, just enough for a kindergartner.

2. I really do hate when people is like all "Ooh, don't lie, I know you're rich." Maybe I'll smile on the surface, honey. But do you want to know what's on the inside? Huh, I was going "SHUT THE HELL UP YOU DON'T KNOW A SINGLE SHIT ABOUT ME AND WHATEVER." on the inside. Or sometimes like this: "THIS IS SO IRONIC, I CAN HARDLY EVEN PASS AS MIDDLE-CLASS". Okay, maybe you'll still think I'm bluffing, but I so hate to discuss my financial status with others. Maybe in another year or so, then you come and ask me. 

3. I hate when people are being "oh, you're so smart". Okay, I know I LOOK smart (I sincerely don't know where's the logic about that), but seriously, I'm not. I'm just average, not too dumb, but not really that smart, either. Creative and sarcastic, maybe, but not smart. 

4. I hate when people want me to lend out my books. I KNOW, I'm selfish. It's part of my make-up system, so it's not like I can go and change. But seriously, I never mentioned this in my entire life (except to my mom and dad and brother. But they don't count), because I have tons of books, and simply everyone expects me to lend them. Actually, I'm like ARRRRGGGGGHHHHHH DAMN. Yeah, it's true. Wrong, but still true. Anyway, the reason I'm so selfish or protective over my collections of books is because I bought them with my OWN money, and my mom doesn't even contribute any. She claimed that we will learn to cherish our thing by this, and well, she succeeded, I guess. I think since the age of eight, every book I bought I used my own money. One thing I don't get it, I brought all my books into the toilet with me (it isn't girly of me to mention this like this, but whatever, I already accept I have a glitch in my brain) and they still wanna borrow from me still remains a mystery to me. Hmm... maybe my books smell nice with my poopy smell. Ha!

5. People look over to see what I'm writing in my journal. I can't say I blame them, because well, it's sort of odd for something who stuck her head into a book all day. Or in papers, since everyday I will be writings songs and plots and whatever. I am busy, of doing stupid things. Or not.

6.People treating me like I don't know a single shit happened to me and my family. Hello, I bet you are the one who doesn't know the situation. Anyway, I don't care about how you think about me. It's me that matters. And my family. Oh, and God. NOTHING ELSE MATTERS. Okay? Get it? 

7. People who said I'm immature when they're the ones who seriously are. Um, I'm not bluffing on this case, because if you claim that I'm immature (maybe I am, a little.), one thing I know is NOT to judge people, and that's immature of me? Hello, YOU'RE the one who JUDGE me, and you call me immature? Blah, I'm not going to say that YOU are, but go and ask your DAD. Besides, it's NOT my fault that some adults claimed that I'm better than someone else. It's not. They're saying this because they don't really know me well. I'm mature (according to a lot of people, but I don't really think I'm mature enough, maybe just for a sixteen-year-old.), because I know what to say in front of your face and what's not. So get off my back and give me a break. PLEASE. 

Whatever. That's seven big things that I hate when people trying to do to me. Anyway, I know I can't stop them from doing this to me, but hey, at least if someone happens to take a look at this, maybe they'll know how to act in front of me (which if you ask me, life is all about acting. Just that you're good or not). Or maybe, I will offence people with this. But hey, life's short to get upset if someone hates you because you've finally come clean on your blog. AT LEAST I don't spit into your face. Ha. 

So, this post is really no offence to anyone (unless you think you're one of what I'm writing about). If you really think this is about you, please, don't discuss behind my back, get it to my face. I won't spit to you, I promise. I can control my anger pretty well, and my saliva. 

Finally

Hell. It's been a long time since I got onto my blog and renew. It feels SO good, except that typing right now reminds me of my English essay, and I am so so SO freaking out.

Today I sort of got my English essay's result, but, well, I don't really like the marks on it. Well, the teacher claimed my language is good, but maybe my writing is not THAT formal for a SPM essay. You know, maybe a little more like writing a novel, instead of an essay. So, yeah, I am a little disappointed, but what can I do? Except from practicing writing more "formally", of course.

Except the fact that I am not writing "formally" right now. Huh. Whatever.

Anyway, exam is over. But I don't feel free or relieve. I am actually worrying about my results. Worry-sick. I didn't study much, and well, that didn't help much in exam. I just hope I don't fail anything, and get a few As (I've given up on A+).

So probably I will work hard, as in trying to stop myself from watching TOO many TV shows. God, that is so HARD. But anyway, I'll try. I don't want to end up failing my SPM, then I can't get myself into a college. My mom will so KILL me. Well, I'll kill myself too.

There's only one thing for me to figure out: HOW TO WRITE MORE FORMALLY IN MY ESSAY???? I already got used to my slapstick writing style (or even sarcastic), and changes are really hard. But, huh, I don't think I have a choice.

Oh God, my brother is practically nagging at me for bugging the computer. So, huh, I guess I gotta go. More later. Or tomorrow. WHATEVER.

Foul Mood and Reality all that STUFFS ( GO AWAY)

Yes. I am supposed to study right now, or finish my undone homework for my friend. But I really don't have the mood for them. Really, I'm... exhausted. Mentally exhausted.

I don't know why, but I am really in a bad mood today. I just hope my mood can be better tomorrow, so that I can present my oral thingy better in front of the whole class. Hopefully not make a dumb fool in front of all those people. Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'll fall flat down on my face when I'm speaking because I trip on my own feet or I forget what I'm saying and stand there like a total idiot?

Yeah, you can see, I am really in a foul mood. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's my studies, or maybe it's my weight, or maybe it's my novel... I think it's my everything.

You know, life's been really tough on me. I never tell people how much I suffer, because I don't want people to think I'm weak. Because I am NOT. I am strong, in fact, I'm the strongest person I knew except for my mom. She's the strongest. Sometimes I wonder how she pulled it off.

It's a really hard time for all of us, here in this family. I thought life will become better after so much of stuffs. But you know, sometimes life's a joke, and we are the clowns inside. I can say I'm not surprised that life's getting worse for me. It's totally out of CONTROL.

I still can't admit what happened to me (oh, not the publish thingy, I told you guys that), but maybe one day. After things cool down and stuff. Maybe by then I can see things in another perspective, and I can endure all these better.

It hurts a LOT, every time I think of it, it's like stabbing myself with a rusted knife in the same old wound. I never felt so hopeless before. I never thought I would be like this, or experience this kind of stuff. My life was pretty awesome before, but WHAMMO, all of a sudden, it's all gone. It's like God is playing a cruel, hard joke on us. But I know it's not really THAT, but I'm figuring out what God is trying to tell us through all these. I'll not judge. Hell no.

Sometimes I struggled. People always struggled, and we always look at people that are much more successful or much more richer than us instead of looking at the ones that are even worse than us. But you know what? Life's like this. We can't really control ourselves, we can only lie to ourselves that things are going to get better. In fact, they're not.

I'm so SICK of all these, I just hope I can escape from them. Maybe that's the reason why I'm having problems in studying and piano and all that stuff. I was seeking for distractions to pull me away from all that.

I just hope one day I can get free of all these, and reach to my dream and look back with a smile of my face. I can only cross my fingers now, right?

Just let God do His work, I'll be good. Sitting here around constantly accept all the pain and agony. You think I'm bluffing, or just whining like a teen. But what you don't know is that, you don't know me. Nobody knows me, except for God and probably my Mom. There's a reason I called myself an old soul, because by the stuffs I'm going through, I'm already ancient.

Just so you know, I'm not kidding. I'm serious.

History (ugh)

Yeah, I didn't get online yesterday, so no posts. It's hard to being away from typing, but I managed...by watching TV. Actually, I planned to study History, but...yeah, that's how it turned out.

You know that frustrating feeling that you set your mind to do something, but you ended up day-dreaming everything you can think of? Yeah, it sucks a LOT. But I can't help it. I'm sure you can't to, especially when you're sitting down with your History book on your lap and your eyes glued on the TV screen.

Come on! I can't help it! Study FIVE CHAPTERS about how Islam started and stuff really get on my nerves (no offense). All those names and places and meanings... is it that IMPORTANT for us to know all the details? Huh? Really? ESPECIALLY I'm not a Muslim, for crying out loud. I think we should learn our own religion more or you know, that's history, we can learn more about WORLD HISTORY, instead of how stupid the people were before they got to know Islam.

Yeah, religion is good. But, hello, not all of us here have the same religion. A plus, we really can't remember all those name when they're almost the same, all right? I guess some people can really memorize all that, since they're such genius or they have photographic memories or something. I may be a freak, but I'm not a genius plus a nerd. So it's not my fault I can't remember all that.

But it's really depressing that you realize the exams on the way but you can't force everything into your brain. And that you're going to get lousy results for everything and it's your fault. Isn't study supposed to be fun? Yeah, I guess not. In here, memorize things mean everything, understanding is only the second.

What can I do? My future lays on my results. So gotta suck it up and glue a big fake smiley face when reading how many generations or something are they in that Chapter (shit shit shit).

Desert

It was empty for all I could see. The sand was golden by the blazing sun hanging above our head, burning everything in our view. If I could laugh, I would. But my throat was screaming frantically for the most important need in this bare, bone-dry desert.

He stared at me in a childlike despair. His mouth hanged open, panting out loud, his chest rose and fell so painfully to pull in some air to breathe. His damp brown hair stuck right above his clear blue eyes--now filled with panic and anxiety. 

I reached out my hand and he took it. 

"I'm sorry."He panted. " I shouldn't have been so stupid." 

I shook my head. It made my head spun in dizziness. "It's not your fault. Don't torture yourself." I pleaded.

He closed his eyes as if he was in great pain. No, we were both in great pain right now. The only comfort that I could think of was that if he was no longer on this cruel planet, I would be just right behind him. 

"I'm such a fool. I shouldn't have brought you into all these mess." He grabbed me and pulled me into his scorching embrace. I hugged the huge damp person tightly, no tears formed in my eyes. My body was running out of water.

"You think I'll let you come here all by yourself?" I asked angrily. 

"But..."

"No more buts." I pulled back and placed my dirt-covered hand on his dried lips. "We're in this together. I don't care how remorseful you are right now, we're now here. Together. That's all that matters right now."

He nodded, holding my eyes with resignation as I tried to fill them up with hope again. I wanted to see those eyes twinkle with laughter, like it used to be. Like it must be. 

"We're going to go through this." My voice fierce, as I held his face in my hands, staring back intently into his soul. I had to save him. "Regardless."

"I know." The corner of his lips pulled up a little, as I mirrored his expression. 

"Let's get going, then." I loosed all of him except for his hand and dragged myself over the toasting sand. 

An hour passed. Or two, or maybe three. Or was it four? I didn't know. We lost track of time in here as we tried to find an impossible exit. It was hopeless. There was nobody here, not even an animal. How were we going to get out of here? 

I stared at his angel-like face desperately. He must live. How could someone so flawless, so perfect was made to cease? No way, he must live. 

But I knew it was all just wishful thinking. I knew we were over by the moment we were both laying on our backs on the rough, burning hot sand. It was very uncomfortable, but we didn't even have any energy--or urge--to move anymore.

We both knew this was our end.

We lay side by side, staring at the now-darken sky. Our shallow breathing formed a new, tuneless harmony together. Our hands twined together. We were not letting go each other now. Not even if we were down to that other world where angels will sing in joy as we entered. 

"I'm sorry." His whispered carried out to the eerie desert. 

"I know. But we're together, right?" I smiled weakly. 

He moved a little by little, grunting in pain as every minute movement hurt him. I mimic him until we were inseparable. 

"I love you." He whispered against my long, thick hair that curled around my face like a halo.

"I love you more." I answered back, knowing this was our goodbye. 

"I love you most." 

That was the last thing I'd heard, as everything around me went black.

"Meet you in heaven" was the last thought I had. I let the darkness swallowed me in without fighting anymore.

I love you.

I CAN'T BELIEVE IT

No, the tittle doesn't entitle any good news. In fact, it includes more and more frustrating waiting. Like I said before, I still have two more publishers that haven't reply me yet (OMG OMG OMG), one of them said they aren't free recently so I must wait till next month (the quickest).

And today, I receive another email from another publisher (no, I'm not nervous anymore. Constant waiting and no hope do that to me) and guess what? 

I NEED TO WAIT FOR ANOTHER TWO OR THREE MONTHS FOR THEIR REPLY.

I really wonder how I am going to live through all these. I was thinking like, yeah, a month is enough for a girl to bear. If I don't get the deal, I'm going to post my novel online and suck it up then do another one. Yeah, that was my plan, no doubt.

But now? Another two or THREE months? Lemme see, it's already November or December by then. I can't believe I am just going to sit around here waiting for two rejection letters for THREE WHOLE MONTHS OR SOMETHING CLOSE TO THAT. 

I'm already ANCIENT by then. A plus, how am I going to write another novel while I don't even know where my fate lays? Not that I'm afraid, but it's really annoying whenever you write, you will think of that novel of yours that still haven't got an answer. Seriously. Do I have a choice? I guess not. Just need to suck it up and STUDY. (HARD ARRRGGGGHHHHHH) 

So, I guess I can't post my novel for now (since I haven't got the rejection letter and stuff). But I wish I won't need to post it here. How good it's going be become a REAL book, but sigh, life's tough. I don't think I can get it easily without the same amount of disappointment. 

Cross my fingers. 

Unbelievable

Well I'm trying to keep this short, but knowing I can really nag is like IMPOSSIBLE. But whatever, I'll try. I'm actually sitting here--no, I'm wearing clothes now, not my towel-- with my fancy clothes on. I was trying my clothes out for the trip this weekend (yippee!!) and decided not to touch the computer for tonight-- I have enough blogs for one day.

But my will totally vanished when my dad asked me do I want to use the computer (partially because he's too lazy to shut it down. We all have no patience for shutting.) and I deliberately (NOT) said yes. I can't look like "oh hell yes!!!" because I'm afraid he'll give me a lecture about using my time wisely and stuff. I mean, he's the parent after all.

I actually just planned to take a peek at my blog views today, not writing a blog. But well, apparently I can't stop myself.

It totally got me gasp in surprise (imagine a fish with its mouth open) when I saw someone from GERMANY read my blog. Not to mention FRANCE. And RUSSIA and TAIWAN and USA and SOUTH KOREA. Okay, I'm seriously surprised. I thought only my friends will read my blog. My goodness.

I thought no one will read my blog. Especially that I only took it back on a few days since I was too lazy before. Yeah, finals do strange things to people. And now finals' around the corner, and I will find every escape I'd manage. So blog is one of them.

So don't be surprise that I can write five or six posts a day. It's not entirely my fault; it's finals'. I mean, it's boring and stuff. Just History can drive me to the edge (don't push me, I'm not ready to die yet.), not to mention MATHS.

I know our maths and science standards are FAR BEHIND, but you know, I'm not a big fan of maths. But I like science subs, except for physics. Yeah. Bio is fun, but it got a lot of stuff to memorize.

So, I think I really have ENOUGH of posts for a DAY. I've gotta stop now. I'm shock still at the sight of the audiences all around the world. I guess they can only read my English posts, unless they understand Chinese. Ha.

Gotta get back to my "mini" showcasing of clothes to mom. I can't believe a stupid trip can get me into such troubles.

Ciao.

100 Word Story

Yeah, I was reading this month's Readers Digest as I caught the view of this contest. I was intrigued, and I read through all the stuffs and well, I got interested in it.

Stories just formed in my head and I couldn't help but write them down one by one, and then cancel the excess words down to 100 (it must be exactly 100 words). I got a few, and I really love one of them. But my brother claimed to not like it, because he likes happy endings (I sometimes wonder did he have his shared of Y chromosomes in him) and my stories are NOT.

Well, I can't say anything about it. I mean, people are different in many ways, everyone is unique. So I can't blame him for not liking my story because it has no happy ending in it.

Dad claimed to like it, he said keep it simple. Well, I'm always keeping everything I write simple. Not that I'm too pro or something, because my vocab isn't really good, so I need to keep it simple to avoid mistakes. Yeah, it's the truth.

I read last year's winner in April 2013 edition, and the stories they wrote are really good. I mean, it's amazing that they can tell such stories in just 100 word. It may seem simple, but it's not.

So yeah, I figured it wouldn't hurt to try to hand in my story, but then I found out there is a 502 error on that particular website. I'm like, WHAT? Never thought I will be this "lucky". Anyway, I think I'll just try later, see whether I can go through or not.

But I think I'll continue to write 100 Word Story (not just for the contest) because well, it helps in improving your writing skills. Besides, it's really fun. You can try it, if you want.

But I think I'll just figure how to enter the website for now. Pah.

Kid

Oh my God. I can't stand it anymore. I really just can't study while my brother and my mother are screaming in the background. How can I focus on "How Islam Spread To Southeast Asia" when they are screaming their heads off with Science?

Yeah. I can hear them even though they're upstairs and I'm at downstairs. It's also hard to focus when my brother even can sing while arguing. Something about poop. Seriously, I'm not joking.

Well, they're arguing because my brother's going to attend UPSR in just two days time. And he still acts like he doesn't give a shit for that damn exam. Really, all he can think is his basketball and Yoona. And that annoying song about poop he came up with. It's so annoying.

I sincerely wonder how he can get good results with that attitude of his. I mean, really. I can hardly think now what's with his jumping around and making sounds like earthquake. Hell, it's interrupting me, I can't think clearly now. Every time I was going to write down something, that elephant jump of his broke my thoughts. I'm so going to scream.

Besides, my mind sort of jammed now. What's with the stupid history thingy and MY BROTHER. I really just can't focus when he jumps like that. Come on, he's not a FROG or a cute KANGAROO. HE IS A HUMAN. Not that human can't jump, but it ought to do it at the right time.

Oh great, now his jumping with the stick hit mom's eyes. Great, just great. Why can't he just sit down and study, like a normal person instead of hopping around like a mad rabbit? I can't say I understand him, but one thing I know, he's still acting like a kid.

He's already 12 years old. Mom said he's still young (why people said I was old when I was 12?), and he's a kid so just let it go. Yeah, I'll let it go if he isn't annoying the hell out of me. I thought they said that girls are even talkative than boys. But my brother proves them all WRONG. He's the most talkative person I'd ever know in my ENTIRE LIFE.

Yeah, I know I got to cool with it. But it's hard.

HELP ME.

Mirror

She stared at the reflective sliver board in front of her. Her face didn't betray any emotions--not even a hint--as if she was a statue. She was hardly breathing, only the sign of the uplifting of her chest showed that she was still alive.

Everything around her was grey. She couldn't move her eyes away from the mirror. The person in the mirror stared back at her ruefully, just like she did to the person in the mirror. The person staring at her wasn't a stranger, yet she felt so unfamiliar, so distant.

The person in the mirror had a pair of violet eyes, which were framed with thick dark lashes--but now were rimmed with crystal-like moisture. That was the only thing beautiful about the person in the mirror. Her tears spilled over and she broke through her stillness to wipe away her tears.

She thought she'd never cry, not for that stupid reason. No, she thought she was strong. Alas, she was wrong. She thought she could overcome all those mean words said, but she was wrong. She was wrong.

Apart from her eyes, everything looked wrong. No, they looked even worse than wrong. She looked hideous. Her beautiful eyes were now squinty and red, hardly counted pretty at all. Dark purple smeared under her eyes as they bulged out. Her fingers traced her eye bags, then to her squashed nose in between the bridge of her eyes. It was so flat, hardly counted as a bridge anymore.

Her fingers moved down to her lips--which were pale as sheets--as she scrutinized her unbalanced lips. She then moved her eyes down the figure in the mirror. She thought she saw a balloon that was almost bursting, but it was her rounded body, so fat that it didn't counted as plump anymore. She pulled the fabric downward, tried to cover up the extend of her body.

She never saw something this hideous.

She wanted to change. She was so sick of those mean comments from the guys on the sidewalk anymore. She'd had enough. She wanted to be thin, she wanted everyone sighed jealously as they caught a glance at her, instead of laughing their heads off as if she was a huge joke.

She started to starve herself,eating only paper rolls in order to be as thin as a model. Skinny-Minnie. That's what she wanted to become. People still treated her as if she was dirt, she swallowed her pride and all of her tears. She will succeed. She will change her fate altogether with her hideous figure.

Months passed. She now stood in front of the mirror again. How odd, she didn't recognize herself at all. All that she saw was a stranger in front her, her eyes filled with terror and fear. Who was she? Who was the person in front of her? No, it wasn't her. She wasn't like that.

Her once swollen body was now slim, and not just slim, it was so thin that it looked so fragile, like a single feathery touch could have shattered her down into a thousand pieces. She expression was tired and her rosiness of her cheeks faded, leaving only translucent pale skin behind.

People now stared at her, but not in wonder, but in surprised. They were shocked to see the new her, but they didn't know that they were the ones who forced her into this stage. No, they were just kidding, making life easier and funnier only for them. They didn't care about her.

She realized, only she could care for herself. Why would she ever change for some strangers that only judge her without knowing her? Why was she so stupid and so blind before? Now she saw the light. Late maybe, but better than never.

She smiled as tears of joy overflowed. She could finally let go of everything--such stupid things--she hold on so hard before. That was nothing, it was just letting her accept her even better, clearing her view so she could see clearly. Everything was so vivid now.

She pushed the mirror down roughly, and the mirror fell into thousands of crystal, leaving the old her behind. She left without saying goodbye. There was no need for goodbye, as she was her now.

She decided to eat real food after all these months. She knew she lived for her, and not anyone else.Whatever the other said now will not alter her paths anymore.

She knew who she was.

YouTube DREAM (yikes)

Well, secretly (or not so secretly), I have always been wanting to do something big. But not really HUGE. Like posting some videos on YouTube like the one-and-only RYAN HIGA.

You know, I'm always jealous... not quite jealous, maybe look upon to people who have the guts to post their videos on YouTube. I've always wanting to upload videos on YouTube. But to upload videos, you have to have video-- which I don't have any.

In my opinion, to start a video, you need a good recording device (duh), and except for my lousy phone, I don't have any other devices. Pathetic, but it's the truth. A good look is a plus, which I don't have one. Maybe I'm not hideously constructed, but of course not pretty at all. Normal looking is all I can say about myself.

Second, you GOT to have self-confidence. A hell lot of them, so you can speak confidently in front of the camera without peeing yourself. Besides, you need to speak fluently in whatever language you're using, and it's a tough challenge for me. I speak very quickly, so it's hard to catch what I'm saying.

One thing I'm really lack of is confidence. Well, I may have to guts to write out what I THINK, but my guts are off when I'm just considering to VOICE them out loud for the world to listen. My stomach just clenches whenever I thought of it. But it's still a beautiful dream. Wait till I have the guts, I'll so post some videos up.

I'm sort of a coward in some kind of ways. You may say that I'm brave enough to send my novel to several publishers and take on rejections like a boss (LOL), so what a few videos can do to me? Yeah, I sort of thought about that. But one thing first, my voice sounds really really bad on recording. I'm not kidding. It's embarrassing even to listen to it after I recorded it, I just deleted them all away.

It's true that people said that recording shows all the negative sides of your voice. Or at least my did. My voice (in real life) is really low and husky, but on recording it sounds like a guy's!!! It's so embarrassing.

I've always got that urge to show the world ME. But I guess the rational parts are still overpowering the not-so parts. Whenever I got the heat that I want to record my songs or do something like Ryan Higa (make some little funny videos) does, my rational part will said to me :OH NO YOU SO DO NOT WANT TO DO THAT. What if the world don't like it? What if they think you're just a teenage girl acting stupid? Or what if NOBODY ever cares about it?

Well, you know what? The thoughts are true, but they sucks a lot.

I guess I still gotta work on my rational parts first. Maybe you guys need to wait till I got the guts to do some videos that nobody even look at to. Harsh, but true. Yeah, I know. I'm such a pessimist. But sometimes think at the bad side is better than giving yourself some really hopeless hope.

So you know what? I'd better off watching others' videos and marvel over it instead of making myself a fool in front of the world. LOL

PS: I don't know a single thing about video-making, so probably it's the main reason why I don't do videos.

Writing-wise (what?)

Yeah, probably people starting to wonder why I wrote in Chinese before, and English now. The reason is so simple: Because English is easier to type than Chinese.

I know, it's stupid. But I don't care. Sometimes it's really frustrating to type in Chinese, what's with the pinyin and all that stuffs. Especially your computer will auto correct everything you wrote, just that it "auto-wrong" it and you have to go back and read again and cancel or change the words that the computer changed it for you. It's tiring, no joke.

I will write in Chinese too, maybe later or something. I'm too lazy to type in Chinese, especially when English is much more easier.

Well, back before when I was a child and don't know a single shit about computers and typing-wise, I wrote everything on papers, with my pencil (duh). It's okay to write manually, but it really kills you when you're writing novels and you keep write the wrong word. So typical. I still write my journal manually, but it doesn't kill me at all. Because there are no inspirations forcing you to write quicker or your memory's full but your hand isn't quick enough. I'm basically just talking with myself when I'm writing in my journal, kind of like a self-reflection or examination stuff. But really, I'm just whining in my journal like a overgrown baby.

One thing good about writing in computer is that, you just need to move your fingers and words form so quickly and you can just delete back stuff you don't want instead of rubbing the hell out of you. Speaking of rubbing, back when I used pencils to write, I so hate writing the wrong words. I'm a person who goes with her feelings, and one really bad thing about it is that, you're already close to the end, but your guts tell you that: NO THAT IS SO WRONG CANCEL IT ALL. Then like a stupid little kid, I'd got to rub off the whole paragraph and my eraser broke down into some rubber balls.

Then I grow up a little and now in high school. We use pens to write our homework (not that I've done any) and other shit. So it's a little more frustrating to use pens. I hate erasers, but I even hate to cross out the whole paragraph that I hate. It sucks even more than erasing stuff.

You know that awful feeling when you see your entire paper is fulled with little crossed-out signs and a heck lot of liquid paper. The paper felt so dirty. Ew.

I prefer typing, really. I enjoy writing manually, to feel the deep prints and the papery feel where your fingers touch the edge of your paper. IF I don't make that much mistake. That's the only drawback for writing manually on a paper. I like papers, they each have a unique smell. Yes, you can go and smell it, and tell me what you think. But, uh, keep out those papers that you use in the toilet (i.e. toilet papers), they smelled an awful lot. How do I know? Yeah because I was that little freak that smelled toilet papers before using. Chill.

But why I don't type my journal instead of writing them down? The reason is easy, if I save in my computer, the whole world including your family (my little nosy brother will sure look behind my back) and your friends will able to see it with a simple click with the mouse. AND I LIKE WRITING MANUALLY EXCEPT I ALWAYS WRITE THE WRONG WORDS WHEN I AM NOT INTENDED TO.

This is so stupid.

But I enjoy talking to myself, a LOT. Come on, it's fun. It's more than just fun. Thank God my family respect my privacy and never take a look at my journal once. They're such nice people (awww). Yeah, respect is a really great deal. Probably next time I'll talk about respect and stuff. It'll be cool.

So here I am, typing away in front of the computer with a blank look on my face. Yeah, my face is always blank in front of the computer. I mean, hello, who really LOL when they write LOL on their comments and stuff?

That'd be so.... weird.

Rain

The sound tickled her ears like feathers, making her smiled a little through the moisture of her eyes. She held out her hand, and a patch of wetness caught in her delicate palm. She tried to see through the tears which were brimming against her lids, but alas, she failed to control her tears.

She never felt so cold in her entire life. Not just the clouds were crying for her, she also cried for herself, for so many reasons.

Lightning stroke so beautifully against the pale grey sky, as thunder rumbled against her ears. She smiled again, more ruefully this time. The tress were swaying--dancing, even--and she hugged her teddy tighter in her arms, trying to force out some warmth from it.

The rain fell ever so gently on her rooftop, increasing with tempo until it wasn't a soft whisper against the window anymore. It was hard as rocks, hitting every surface at every angle. As if to wash away everything, even her memories that burned at the back of her mind.

She tried to erase those memories, to bury them up so she won't have to suffer over it. But it wasn't her choice, not even from the beginning. She could only accept her fate resentfully. Every smiles, every laughter, every tears... tore her from the inside. She was no longer complete.

Sound of the rain continued as her heart followed in synchronization, creating the flawless harmony together. Harmony, but tuneless, as her heart was empty.

Let it rain, she thought, let it rain. Just took away her everything. She didn't want any of it.

Let it rain.

Not AGAIN

So apparently, I wrote about being rejected yesterday (my novel). Today, I thought I wouldn't need to write about it, but I was WRONG.

Yes, guess what? I GOT REJECTED AGAIN. By another publisher. That probably means that my novel really isn't THAT good (not that I think it's GREAT, but at least OK. But it seems okay isn't good enough). Well it doesn't hurt so much because I sort of expected the answer, just not so soon.

They said I'm not up their standards, and told me to make persistent efforts. Yeah, I sort of knew that. My writing skill isn't THAT good. And I'm not going to say that's because I'm young, age isn't a reason or an excuse for whatever you are. You just need to improve yourself EVERY SINGLE DAY. Which sometimes really do sucks.

But still, I'm still glad they read my thing. Because it's sort of like wasting their time or something. I still have two more publishers to go, though. Even though I already prepare for the outcome-- most probably they'll reject my novel.

I already mentally prepare myself for the worst case scenario, that every publishers reject my novel, saying it's not good enough or not up to their standard. Well, if that really happens, I will post my novel online, chapters by chapters, for you guys out there to read.

I just want my story to be share so badly. Is it wrong? No, it isn't wrong. But maybe it isn't good enough for marketing, so it wouldn't have to be in marketing and stuff, I'll just put it online.

Now I guess I can just cross my fingers and hope. No, not hope. Hopes only crushes you more when you fail. I like to dream about everything, but dreaming beautifully really crushes you when you get disappointed. It's even worse than usual.

I'm brave, but not brave enough for that kind of thing. I only hope I can survive more and more disappointment. But one thing good about me, I'm stupidly stubborn. Sometimes stubborn helps a lot. It's just the vanity that always got in my way. But I always shove that thought away, so I think I'm fine, though.

Lots of people got even worse than me. So no way I'm calling quits. I mean, who doesn't been through disappointments? It's always very very hard to achieve your dream, something will always be in your way. It'll only make you treasure more when you finally reach to your dream, making it even worth it.

So I'm just in the PROCESS of constant disappointment and crushing and stuff. I'll feel worth if one day I get to really published my novel. That'll be damn awesome. Even more than awesome.

For now, I'll like to concentrate on my life. My life already has enough drama without my novel kicking in. Ha. Besides, I still have two more disappointments waiting me in line. One of it replied to me that they are quite busy now, so the soonest I'm going to get an answer is till next month (oh no) and the other hasn't reply my thing.

My head is so going to burst.

Gotta be patient for disappointment. At least I mentally prepared myself already. Sigh.

Random (or not)

Actually, I'm writing this because I'm waiting for my brother to finish his bath (never knew a guy can hog a bathroom for such a long time). This is so stupid. I'm sitting in front of this computer with only my towel on (oops). Yeah, too lazy to change in anything while waiting for your turn to bath.

Well, I'm particularly very lazy. So it's practically a miracle I can write and not being lazy. For instance, I'm too lazy to practice piano now but I'm not LAZY enough to not write blog. Ha.

I'm so dead. Mom will surely kill me for not practicing piano now because I have piano lessons in another hour or so and I'm back home early today. So, wish me luck. Hope I can survive. I mean, even my mom doesn't give the hell of lecture, my piano teacher will. I'm so so dead.

But that doesn't mean that I'm going to practice. Not for now. Maybe later, after I got some clothes on. Ha. I wonder how much longer my brother can hog, maybe he's reading book inside.

Okay I asked. He really IS reading book. No wonder his butt's still stuck on that bowl. Ugh. I've already waited him for, like, half and hour or so. Hell.

Whatever. I hate people hogging toilets all the time. It makes me so sick. Except that I'M the usual one who hogs a toilet (books, go figure). But technically, I'm not sitting on the bowl pooping while reading; I sat on the floor next to the bowl instead. It seems a little dirty and disgusting, but actually it's really nice. I can totally get into the story and cry like a baby whenever I got into some really sad part. Well, no one will see me and my running nose in there.

I'm currently ready The Host by Stephanie Meyer (again), and I always cry. Probably because I'm actually acting inside the toilet (now you know toilet is my little fantasy+acting land). Sometimes I'm the bad guy and sometimes (mostly) I'm the good guy. Ha. This is fun, you know. You can try it sometimes. But be careful not to be overwhelm by your emotions and hit your hand on the wall like I did once before. It hurts an awful lot. Seriously.

So what I can really say is that: DO NOT BORROW ANY BOOK FROM ME.

They said toilet is the place that breeds a heck lot of germs. Well, it's not my fault if you got something out of my toilet. I'm totally immune to it (I'm always in my toilet and my mom hates it so much because I really do hog, a lot). So watch out there, you guys.

Well, at least my books don't stink. Okay? It's not like I place my book next to my poop. But my books are always in the toilet... with farts and all that stuff. Yeah, it's a little disgusting. But who cares? The only one that are going to read my books is ME. Who cares hygiene when it comes to you only? Well, I don't.

So currently my brother is still in the bathroom (hogging still) and I gotta go. TO YELL THE HELL OUT OF HIM AND GIVE HIM A PIECE OF MY MIND. I NEED MY TOILET.

Ha. More later.





Or tomorrow or the day after tomorrow or WHATEVER. I'll just write in my JOURNAL.
Ciao.

This is Life (I guess)

Yeah, today is harsh for me. Really harsh.

So, actually, I sent my novel out for a few publishers. But I got rejected by one of them today. If you didn't have a dream that you almost reach, but you found out you're far from it, you can't understand what I'm going through right now. I can only say it's worse than falling out of love, or get rejected by your crush. It's the worst feeling I ever had in my life.

In fact, I sent it out last Sunday. I'd waited for an answer for almost two weeks. I never thought time can drag on so long, as time always seem too fast for me. But every moment of waiting seemed like forever, it's like been dragged on a tons of needles. It stung, a little by a little.

Then I told God, I just want an answer. I don't want to wait anymore, it's too tiring and it really messed up my life. But now, I got an answer. But the answer is not the answer I want. It's FAR from the answer I want.

Since I was, like, 7 or something, I started writing. I never thought it as a passion before, since I was young by then. I just know I really enjoy writing and tell stories inside my mind. I got a little notebook in my school bag, and I took it out and write stories to myself.

We started to write essay at 10. That was the first I ever discovered that writing really is my passion. I love every minute of writing, enjoy it more than anything else. It's not a want, but a need. It's like breathing, I can't live without writing. People who knows me knows that I always take some papers and my journal plus a pen by my side. I can't live without anything to write into. It's like breathing underwater, you know, hard to bear.

That year, I was 12. I got my first not-so rejection "letter". In exact, it's my UPSR result slip. As I said before, writing is my passion, my dream, my everything. And in some ways, I am sort of good. Not the best (of course not), but okay with it. Teachers always like my writing (even though sometime I'm a little nuts with my stories), and they gave me high marks. I never got "rejected" before. People always like what I wrote, and in fact, I was really proud of it.

But what's on my UPSR result slip, I got a B for my Chinese essay paper. It was such a huge blow on me, leaving such impact. I remembered I went out crying and thrashing. I can't accept a B in my essay, no way! I mean, I may not be the best, but I am good. Really good. I can't accept imperfection in my essay. I broke down, and I lost my faith in writing.

It left a huge impact on me. I'd lost my confidence in writing. I didn't dare to really write what I thought, always holding a lot back. My marks slip, and I watched others praised by the teachers because their writing were good. I saw red.

I wasn't really a competitive person. I'm only competitive on stuffs I really love, and writing is what I'm passionate about. I see others got compliments and watched my own essays "slaughtered" by teachers, I can't bear it. You must know this is not in vain. I never thought of writing that way. But I do care what others think about my work. It means a hell lot to me. Of course I'm envious of the others, who can write so much better than me. I'm pissed off, even. It's so hard for me to take on reality, as writing is once my proud and pride. You don't really let go off your pride that easily.

I spent a lot of time to overcome my difficulties. To overcome my fear in writing, struggling to find back my confidence in myself. It was so hard for me since I fell really bad the last time. But then I found out I can write in English without any stress and I started to fall in love with English. Eventually, I got some of my confidence back in writing and I used it to overcome my fears in Chinese.

The process hurts a lot. But at least I can write without chickening out much. I started to write novels again. I sent it to my few friends, and I got some critiques as well as a few compliments. But the negative balanced out the positive, and I was hurt, again. I try not to care, but it's really hard. Because it's the only thing I care the MOST.

I continue to write, and continue to take on critiques (intentionally or unintentionally). I took it hard. But I stared it in the face, I knew I can't escape anymore. I gotta be strong. I'm NOT a coward.

After a lot of hardships (I've lost my confidence in my English writings, too. After receive a really low mark by some teacher, but I try to overcome it now), I finally finished my Chinese novel. I counted it as my first, even though I did write some novels when I was in primary school. But it's not the same, I had confidence back then, but now I do not. It's like my rebirth novel, trying to get back my confidence or something. I experienced a lot of doubts from myself, and I cried a lot too. But I told myself, no matter how much it hurts, I'm going to finish this. And I did.

I sent it out to a few publishers way before I sent it out to any other of my friends. I know myself well. I know that if I sent it to my friends first, and receive some critiques from them, I will totally back off. After chickening through and out, I sent it out. And of course, I got a lot of critiques from my friend. One particular friend said she likes it a lot, but the others don't. They said it's boring and my novel isn't good enough. I was like one time in heaven and another in hell.

Now I got rejected by one (two more to go), and it's crushing my spirits again. But I won't back off like I did before then. I will stay strong. Who cares if others don't like it? As long as I love it, it's enough. I'm telling myself stories, just hoping the others will like it too. I don't care about anything, I've been through hell in a couple of years. Burn. Even though this means a hell lot to me (hello, it's my DREAM to be a published author, I didn't even want a boyfriend this bad), I'm sure I can pull it through. I will still write stories, whether it's bad for others or something. But showing the others and getting negative feedback isn't good for my ego.

But you know, even it's not the best novel in the entire world, and I'm not the best writer in any sense, at least I've got the guts to send it out. I tried and did my best. I'm still young (according to everybody, but I don't see sixteen a very young age), and I got a lot of shots. I just need to keep myself calm and never back out or get the horrible feelings back again that lead to my cowardice towards writing. I don't want to feel horrible and scare (of everything) when I'm writing.

I just want to enjoy.

Changes

Yeah. If you notice, I've change the templates and layouts of my blog. And I'm writing in English instead of Chinese now (obviously).

Not that I despise Chinese ( OF COURSE NOT), it's just that it's been a long time since I wrote an English post. And that was in my other blog, which I forgot the password. Yeah, typical.
I did these changes because I need distractions from something (will write later after I got an answer), and my blog's old look was a bit childish. Plus, I'm not that a honeydew anymore.

This is kinda cool, but frustrated somehow, to change the look of a blog. Especially to find something that goes with you, or your nature. It's damn hard. I can't say I manage, but yeah, something like that. I can't seem to get a background that represents ME, but I can't say anything bad about this current one--it's cute.

It's like getting to know yourself all over, especially when you're writing the introduction (that one I can't avoid, I must change my age and something), you're finding new stuffs about yourself, and old stuff that you know better than anyone else.

Trying to summarize myself down to a paragraph is the worst. It's like grinding my brain up for something interesting about me to write. Yeah, I can think a TONS of things about myself. But when I got my butt down on this very chair, all of it just 'pop' like a bubble. It's so frustrating. But I sort of manage to list down a few of my crappy information, though.

Changes are good, I think. It's a part of growing up and self-reflection and stuff. I'm not really the 'changing' kind of person, but I don't like being dull either. I brave myself up for challenges that interest me and I'm a dreamer. You can say I go with my feelings and my mood, well, that's true.

But some changes aren't good. Like all those wild mood swings (unavoidable when you're waiting your dream knock), and reality and finals. I hate those changes. It made me bitter and sarcastic (so unhealthy). But it did ended up helping me to write a lot of songs.

Yeah, and speaking of song-writing, I tried a new kind of style--rap music. Yes, I did write a rap song. Weird, huh? I usually write songs about my life and stories inside my head, sort of a little country and blue and relax. I can't say rap music is my expertise, but I did try my best. What I did found out is that I can only sing but not rap. Ha. So I did another version of that song, writing in some verses so I can sing.

That's some kind of changes that are fun. I mean, it's not CRIMINAL to put some foul words into a rap song. Instead of making it worse, they make it COOL. But well, I did tone down some "words" a little, ha.

So, I, uh, just hope that the other changes that are going to happen in my life (so soon it makes me so sick), is going to turn out just fine. In fact, I'll like it to be perfect.

Oh God, please let my dream happen!!!!!