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!!!!!