Do i love me?

I type this nursing eyes which have bravely weathered the pain of the past two days of infection. Good job babies.

I went to school for training today with swollen red tiny slits I call eyes and i actually din't mind. I would usually never be caught dead without makeup at all, strangely, in such an ugly state I actually felt less self conscious than i usually do. Which fires off an ironic paradox in my mind which I've yet to figure out. Soon, soon i will and i will be back.

I stared into the questioning eyes of Self-love again today. Much later from the whole dance incident, and was just repeatedly fired the same question , " Do I love me?". After years of playing tug-o-war with the two sides, I still have narry an answer. It annoys me.

Self-esteem issues are like known allergies. Sometimes the allergies affect you as much as a flick of a finger- some rash, some annoyance, some mild discomfort... Othertimes it hits you full blown, red angry bumps of hives, severe annoyance and painful discomfort... You know what blows them up so you avoid them, you teeter around those edges of safety precariously because you never know when you'd fall into that ugly hole. You never know when that unsuspecting hive-inducing peanut is going to spring into your mouth during dessert. You never know when it could hit you, despite all those precautions you take, despite how careful you are... And when it does it bothers you more, because you did try to keep your guard up...but it wouldn't go away.

Then it hurts sometimes and makes it harder to give a nod to the question when people say " I'm afraid to say anything. I don't know what might end up upsetting you. ". It's tantamount to a table of 10 cutting out their coveted order just because it had peanuts and you were allergic to it. It makes you feel bad. Yes you do appreciate their care, but it doesn't make you feel any better. You'd wish you were better. Better enough to not be such an inconvenience. You could be treading around those edges so carefully but just one little slip of accident and the whole world treats you like a seedling.

"Don't apologise. You can, for hurting me. But don't apologise for saying something if you mean it ". I have my times of falter, times when the wind passed is enough to be near breaking me. But I've yet to be.

Bpharm

My bpharm notes which i excitedly showed to joel yesterday when he came over with dinner. I'm so proud of them! Took me bloody long to get them done cos i wanted them to be perfect, colour scheme and all haha. It makes studying for bpahrm much enjoyable tho, cos i structured the notes in the most visually appealing manner to myself. Please let me pass, please let me passssss....

And the sparrow on weed screeched.

“I think love is a useless word for descriptions these days. Love binds and pulls and tugs and shatters, breaks and stirs and murders and revives, all at once. Love is a word turned into a full stop in teenagers’ conversations, peppered all over to spice a bowl of bland sentence soup. Love is an excuse for not loving. Love is an inspiration for the most handsome things in the world. Love is a justification for the ugliest things in the world. Love is indefinable, yet has its place in every single dictionary, in probably every single language.

And I won’t be hypocritical; I’m one of these people who exploit the word like breaths of air. It’s almost like a hello and goodbye in every conversation. It’s a “hey Tim, bye Tim, I love you Tim.” kind of thing. Its things you say drunkenly to strangers, or things you say to people you don’t really care about at all. Yet you can wake up one morning, to the most beautiful face you know, and know that this was the one, this was the one for sure, this was the one that makes your heart want to describe colours that don’t exist and the one that makes you want to stop time as you kiss and you lose your head into a blind space.

And all you could offer is the same “I love you” you praised your mom as she packed you pbnj sandwiches for lunch.

I could say I loved you, and be right and wrong all at once. I could say I loved you, and then squeeze in a “but”, but that would be like drawing a bold line in permanent marker across a Mona Lisa painted in gold with rubies and diamonds embedded in the details. I could say I love you. I could mouth it. Write it down. Paint it on paper and etch it on trees. But no. I don’t love you. I will never say it and mean it.

I will show you.”

—— Nova Halle

Words of affection stirr the murmurs of the heart, but nothing could ever replace the assurance of affection in actions. Found this beautifully written piece online and I couldn't agree with the content more. There would always be times when the words string along the truest of emotions as it's said, but there are others when it's become a watered down version of its original existence- just an acknowledgement of existence to be exact.

Here's Speechless by The Veronicas which lyrics ring true to how i feel now.

And the MBIO paper was pure massacre, it killed me enough times to be one. I spend the last 10 min playing with a beetle crawling across my paper hoping it might grant me with an epiphany of some sort seeing that i saved it from being squashed by exam scripts. What a way to die. While lamenting my woes to joel the words " It's like I'm immune to failure despite hardwork already". Obviously I was pissed that despite studying my mind still drew an almost blank but it's no longer THAT bad. Then it dawned on me that my rebound rate for shit-that-happens was getting better. I guess the cliche is true ( as they always are ) , what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

BPHARM TOMORROW AND THEN MY MIND CAN GO ON A HOLIDAY WHILE MY BODY TOLLS FOR TRAINING. So appealing, really.

4:45am, I have just stirred awake. Stupid alarm, I'd barely had 2 hours of shuteye and here I am up at my table getting ready to douse myself in more content. The coffee's gone, the muffin's barely touched and my cigarettes nearly depleted, I wish I had coffee now. A cup of mocha frappe and a new box of menthols so I wouldn't have to worry about running out. It's been a couple of days but I already miss a life off tenterhooks , of hours of dance and senseless fun and being allow to just heave and breathe and relax. Lying in bed with or without the one i love and slipping off into a blanket of comfort, that safe little blanket of not much to worry about. Now each day i toss in bed alone, I wimper about stress to the love and i slept that little bit less soundly because at the back of my head, something's just nagging at me. So, I guess this is how it is when you're back to piecing a puzzle, mild irritation at the gaps unfixed, mild headache because that incomplete puzzle is staring back at you and mild joy that gets greater as it slowly tumbles to completion. And euphoria, at the end of it. Getting my ass out of school the first puzzle i'll have to fix, and miles to go before i sleep...

Mommy and haul

So my mum went on a little shopping spree and came back with a bagload of haul. Apart from the moshino perfume set and another loewe perfume set, everything else were free gifts from the counter guy! From the guess clutch, to the moschino bag to the beyonce atomizer... :D


i love fragances, my eyes light up everytime i get a new bottle. I've kept all the empty bottles all the way from my first Anna Sui Wish ones. And here's two more to my collection. I am a happy girl, despite my impending doom with mbio. Sigh. I can't wait for freedom from the books.















And finally muffins and coffee to get me through the night.




And the sparrow on weed screeched.

1. Chuzzle the single most awesome game on my iphone

2. I have gone from 'baby' to 'bro' and from 'audrey' to lynard.

3. Some superabsorbent towel turban my mum bought from watson so that water would stop dripping all over the place after i bathe. Yes i do dry my hair, but it seems never ending.

4. How i had to write for half an hour because my finger was bruised from writing too much.



And the sparrow on weed
screeched.

I like it when people put words into actions, when they actually DO reflect when they say they would/do. It's really tiring trying to talk sense with pompous idiots who want to act the top of the game, the masquerade of perfection by easily shooting out the words " I reflect about my actions all the time". The clock will strike eventually, the party will come to a close and the masks would soon drop. Ugly. Ugly is how the after party turns out. It's like spinning the bottle, it's never yours to take when you spin it. Someone else will be choosing truth/dare. Someone else. Someone else, always would.