I just totally had like one of the worst meltdowns i had in my 16 years of life. And i'm really embarrassed about it, really, because during the haze of it all, with my family yelling(well not exactly yelling but god they were loud) and me trying to hold the sensitive, fragile part of me intact, i ran up to my room, cried my eyeballs out and made a huge mistake of sliding my phone on when a WhatsApp text from my friend was received. I wasn't going to just spill my heart out to her, or anyone, i've said it before, it's pathetic and humiliating, and God i just wished it hadn't happened, but it did. So she texted me a question very much related to the issue of the night and i just went all teenage-angst on her. I was crying and texting and crying and crying and texting and checking whether anyone was about to walk into the room and find me drowning in my own pathetic-ness because no, i couldn't let that happen. So yeah, i really didn't plan to tell anyone about my deepest thoughts, but it just rushed out, and i couldn't stop it. And yes, i am very much embarrassed at what i did and hope that what i told my friends hadn't ruin her night or anything.
I don't know, life's just really messed up right now and you know what, growing up really isn't a walk in the park. If i hadn't known better, suicide might sound like a better option. I'm calmed down, and ready to apologize for whatever shit i have told anybody. I don't even remember what i said to anyone, shit, things are really effed up right now. Damage control, coming right up. I'm just sorry for being an overemotional, pathetic, disappointing loser. Peace.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Nobody's Child
Well. Just when i thought that things couldn't get any worse, it just did, like approximately 5 minutes ago. What is it this time val? You weren't allowed to buy new shoes? You realized that your favorite movie you've been waiting to be released isn't going to come out until next year during your exams? I wish things were that simple. I'm still rather shocked from the news that i've just heard from a family member. The memory's so fresh that i can still see the motion of my grandma's lips as she pronounced each and every word. I'm typing all this from my cellphone so it's a little frustrating but i don't know what do with myself right now. If i tried watching tv, i'd end up going up to the DVD player to switch the movie every 10 seconds. If i tried reading a book, i'd most likely end up on the floor and i couldn't do that do any of my books. If i tried listening to music, i might break down. So, here i am on Blogger, trying to express myself into words that are becoming more and more blurry under the lens of my eyes.
Honestly, i feel like a brat for doing this right now, complaining about my not-very-problematic-problem online when there are millions of people starving to death halfway across the world, but i needed to tell somebody. And because somebody doesn't exist in my life, i'm turning my attention towards the ever trustworthy and reliable online journal. I love my online journal because like my diary, it doesn't talk back when i say something mean or hurtful, it doesn't judge when i'm stripped bare in front of it and most importantly, it doesn't leave. All that's just great but when someone really needs a pep talk or some sort of support, an online journal or diary would've been completely and utterly useless, but i don't need a pep talk, i don't need somebody to cheer me up from the dumps. I just need somebody to listen to me, to hear what i have to say and then quietly understand what exactly i am going through. No human being can do that so this is where i come to whenever i'm feeling, like, this.
I've never really leaked out any gory information about my family or my home because i think that's dangerous to do online and it's wrong like why would you trashtalk about your family somewhere where everyone in the world can see when they feel like it. I've never exposed my family and never will, but they keep hurting me nevertheless.
We've never been a happy family as far as i can tell. The happiest of the days would be, never. Believe me, i did try to think of some day where my mom and dad was there, my brother, my grandma, me, everybody with smiling faces, but that day just doesn't exist. It has always been a falling-out-routine for us and when there are kids involved in this, wow, things just become a lot more complicated. And when one of the kids happen to be of age and being able to understand these things that are happening around her, well kid, prepare yourself for some fucked up bullshit. Being the eldest of siblings isn't just being the one with the oldest age, it means being the one who feels the hurt, the pain first. The one to cry yourself to bed while your little brother or sister sleeps peacefully every night. The one who gets it the worst when one of your parents leave. And the one who has to take care, to look out for her younger siblings, to make sure that they don't feel anything that you're feeling or going through anything remotely similar to your own condition.
I love my brother. And i hope he doesn't feel the way that i do right now when he gets the news, but he's luckier than i am in some ways. Ever since my mom and dad had problems, i've always been the one whom they wanna beat up cause i seemed to be always in the way, and when they mentioned divorce, i was the one who told my grandma to keep everything from my brother because he was 4 and was still too young to understand this while i go to wherever empty space i could find at home to try and figure things out myself. When my mom found somebody else and seemingly had settled down but not in a away two people in love would, i pushed my brother to be good, to be the sweet boy that he was and of course he did. He had the face and personality for it so it didn't take much for people to adore him. And so, he became my mom's favorite and i'm cool with that because that little boy who didn't know the truth till a few years before deserved that much from life.I pushed him to be closer with my dad too, and i think he did. I could tell from the way he talks about him, how much he loved and looked up to him. It's not fair. It's not fair that my brother had to grow up without his father.
As for myself, my father loved me too, i know that but i could tell just how much he wants to change me. I mean who else in my family wouldn't? My dad and grandma always telling me off about my hair. My grandma telling me how i was fat and ugly and didn't wanna do anything to change that about me. My grandma telling me to study, to do more than what i'm doing now because i'm already a big, fat disappointment and a waste of her time, energy and money. The only person who didn't pressure me about being me much was my mom, but it's not like she's Mother Theresa either. When she's in a bad mood, i can't even greet her without being scolded so badly that it makes me regret being born into this world. She doesn't realize it but every time she speaks to me, it's always been about her. And when she's actually talking about me, either she's nagging at me, sarcastically scolding me or just downright driving a blade into my heart. She was never one to think before talking anyways. So i gotta hold my chin up, at least until i reach the stairs up to my room, and then i rush up when she turns away. I usually spend the whole afternoon or night crying my heart out by the window, feeling sorry for myself because nobody would. And then when it's time for bed, i go into my bathroom, brush my teeth, clean up a bit and go to bed. I had to make sure i looked fine before i go to bed as i share a room with three other people and my grandma sleeps right next to me. Usually, before i lay myself down, my grandma would wait up for me until the lights are turned off and she finally shuts her eyes. To avoid getting questions i didn't want to answer, i needed to pull the "i'm totally fine" act and it works every time. It normally reaches 1 or 2 o'clock in the morning when i start to over-think and break down again.
So now that i know i won't and can't be the daughter and granddaughter that my parents and grandma wanted me to be, i just stop being so great. I kind of stopped trying because no matter what i do, they don't really see me coming back with a trophy or cert, they just see the fact that i got it but so could everybody else. And now, there's this sinking feeling in my heart, the one i sometimes get like when my grandfather died, my great-grandmother died, my parents' divorce, my father leaving us, my mother leaving us, my grandmother leaving me, my father getting a new wife, my mother caring about someone else more than she did us, my father getting a new daughter.
You see, i end up being nobody's child because they all got replacements for me. New and even more excellent replacements. My mom gets to have an un-messed up kid who grows up to be a great-looking fellow and brings back a wonderful, charming girl along with a qualifications from a big-shot university. My grandma gets to see one of her more "right" grandchild succeed in life and comes back with a fancy job that enables him to have rice on his rice bowl every other night. My father gets to have a normal daughter that he can actually spend actual time with, gets her normal girl-clothes that she'd wear and get to see her find a good boyfriend which is something i would never be able to do. Oh, and the new kid probably would have better hair too, something my dad had always wanted from me.
Sigh, i hope that the little girl coming to this world soon would at least have a better childhood and maybe better life than i did and would have in the near future for at the end of the day, i'm nobody's child. Lyrics from an All Time Low song come to mind, "Love yourself so no one has to, they're better off without you." Still, i wish that things could've turned out differently than it did. Peace.
Honestly, i feel like a brat for doing this right now, complaining about my not-very-problematic-problem online when there are millions of people starving to death halfway across the world, but i needed to tell somebody. And because somebody doesn't exist in my life, i'm turning my attention towards the ever trustworthy and reliable online journal. I love my online journal because like my diary, it doesn't talk back when i say something mean or hurtful, it doesn't judge when i'm stripped bare in front of it and most importantly, it doesn't leave. All that's just great but when someone really needs a pep talk or some sort of support, an online journal or diary would've been completely and utterly useless, but i don't need a pep talk, i don't need somebody to cheer me up from the dumps. I just need somebody to listen to me, to hear what i have to say and then quietly understand what exactly i am going through. No human being can do that so this is where i come to whenever i'm feeling, like, this.
I've never really leaked out any gory information about my family or my home because i think that's dangerous to do online and it's wrong like why would you trashtalk about your family somewhere where everyone in the world can see when they feel like it. I've never exposed my family and never will, but they keep hurting me nevertheless.
We've never been a happy family as far as i can tell. The happiest of the days would be, never. Believe me, i did try to think of some day where my mom and dad was there, my brother, my grandma, me, everybody with smiling faces, but that day just doesn't exist. It has always been a falling-out-routine for us and when there are kids involved in this, wow, things just become a lot more complicated. And when one of the kids happen to be of age and being able to understand these things that are happening around her, well kid, prepare yourself for some fucked up bullshit. Being the eldest of siblings isn't just being the one with the oldest age, it means being the one who feels the hurt, the pain first. The one to cry yourself to bed while your little brother or sister sleeps peacefully every night. The one who gets it the worst when one of your parents leave. And the one who has to take care, to look out for her younger siblings, to make sure that they don't feel anything that you're feeling or going through anything remotely similar to your own condition.
I love my brother. And i hope he doesn't feel the way that i do right now when he gets the news, but he's luckier than i am in some ways. Ever since my mom and dad had problems, i've always been the one whom they wanna beat up cause i seemed to be always in the way, and when they mentioned divorce, i was the one who told my grandma to keep everything from my brother because he was 4 and was still too young to understand this while i go to wherever empty space i could find at home to try and figure things out myself. When my mom found somebody else and seemingly had settled down but not in a away two people in love would, i pushed my brother to be good, to be the sweet boy that he was and of course he did. He had the face and personality for it so it didn't take much for people to adore him. And so, he became my mom's favorite and i'm cool with that because that little boy who didn't know the truth till a few years before deserved that much from life.I pushed him to be closer with my dad too, and i think he did. I could tell from the way he talks about him, how much he loved and looked up to him. It's not fair. It's not fair that my brother had to grow up without his father.
As for myself, my father loved me too, i know that but i could tell just how much he wants to change me. I mean who else in my family wouldn't? My dad and grandma always telling me off about my hair. My grandma telling me how i was fat and ugly and didn't wanna do anything to change that about me. My grandma telling me to study, to do more than what i'm doing now because i'm already a big, fat disappointment and a waste of her time, energy and money. The only person who didn't pressure me about being me much was my mom, but it's not like she's Mother Theresa either. When she's in a bad mood, i can't even greet her without being scolded so badly that it makes me regret being born into this world. She doesn't realize it but every time she speaks to me, it's always been about her. And when she's actually talking about me, either she's nagging at me, sarcastically scolding me or just downright driving a blade into my heart. She was never one to think before talking anyways. So i gotta hold my chin up, at least until i reach the stairs up to my room, and then i rush up when she turns away. I usually spend the whole afternoon or night crying my heart out by the window, feeling sorry for myself because nobody would. And then when it's time for bed, i go into my bathroom, brush my teeth, clean up a bit and go to bed. I had to make sure i looked fine before i go to bed as i share a room with three other people and my grandma sleeps right next to me. Usually, before i lay myself down, my grandma would wait up for me until the lights are turned off and she finally shuts her eyes. To avoid getting questions i didn't want to answer, i needed to pull the "i'm totally fine" act and it works every time. It normally reaches 1 or 2 o'clock in the morning when i start to over-think and break down again.
So now that i know i won't and can't be the daughter and granddaughter that my parents and grandma wanted me to be, i just stop being so great. I kind of stopped trying because no matter what i do, they don't really see me coming back with a trophy or cert, they just see the fact that i got it but so could everybody else. And now, there's this sinking feeling in my heart, the one i sometimes get like when my grandfather died, my great-grandmother died, my parents' divorce, my father leaving us, my mother leaving us, my grandmother leaving me, my father getting a new wife, my mother caring about someone else more than she did us, my father getting a new daughter.
You see, i end up being nobody's child because they all got replacements for me. New and even more excellent replacements. My mom gets to have an un-messed up kid who grows up to be a great-looking fellow and brings back a wonderful, charming girl along with a qualifications from a big-shot university. My grandma gets to see one of her more "right" grandchild succeed in life and comes back with a fancy job that enables him to have rice on his rice bowl every other night. My father gets to have a normal daughter that he can actually spend actual time with, gets her normal girl-clothes that she'd wear and get to see her find a good boyfriend which is something i would never be able to do. Oh, and the new kid probably would have better hair too, something my dad had always wanted from me.
Sigh, i hope that the little girl coming to this world soon would at least have a better childhood and maybe better life than i did and would have in the near future for at the end of the day, i'm nobody's child. Lyrics from an All Time Low song come to mind, "Love yourself so no one has to, they're better off without you." Still, i wish that things could've turned out differently than it did. Peace.
Blog Update For No Particular Reason
I know i kind of promised to elaborate more on my trip to the overseas, but i'm not really in the mood to type an 8-paged essay out right now. Honestly? I'm pissed. I'm annoyed. I'm being rather teenage-y tonight. I feel like, no actually, i don't feel anything much right now. It's kind of like this wall you hit when you're trying to reach into your heart/soul in search of a word to describe a feeling but of course you hit the wall and realize that you're actually feeling nothing. So, correction. I WAS pissed. I WAS annoyed, but i'm still being teenage-y because i'm here typing this out. I'm feeling like an insecure 15-year old teenage girl tonight for i just realized again how much of a pathetic loser i am. Pathetic because i'm letting my insecurities control me and i'm a loser because things that shouldn't matter to me or to anyone else actually does mean a lot to me. You know i'm just sick and tired of me being so pathetic. People say i have the power to do something about it and i know i do, but when you're sick and tired, all you wanna do is to just stab yourself and die.
I'm also tired of being the one who always turns into the odd-one-out. For me, things have always been like this. First hour, i'm into socializing and talking and making jokes about things that aren't really funny and just trying to do things that hold people together. Second hour, i talk and i nod and i watch things play out from the passenger seat. Third hour, i stop talking and i lose interest in everything and i wander into the darkness and see how everything is from an even further distance. Fourth hour, i start hating on things and i curse at anyone who attempts a conversation and i throw shitty looks at everyone and ruin everybody's damn day. When do i turn into the odd-one-out? At the end of the second hour. It's because only when i'm seeing things from the sidelines, i see how i've never really fitted in with everything. I turn around and i see people, friends, family, chatting and laughing and having the time of their lives while i'm just there. It's like i'm always just there, after the second hour that is.
So, this is like a uh, a process with actual steps that i go through everyday of my life. It always happens automatically. I don't have to set a timer or reminder and it works like there's some biological clock within me that likes the idea of me playing a part in this stupid process of becoming the odd-one-out. I can't help it either because this process thing, it's kind of like a wake-up call telling me that it's time to wake up and clean your face so you can see that you're not really in the crowd, you're just in the room with the crowd. It gives me a hard, cold reminder that i don't have to keep trying to get or become something that i'm not and will never be able to be. I will never really be a part of something, not in a group of friends, not in a group of mutual liking people, not even in my own family, but you know, it's me, not them. It has always been just me. I wish if like um, by blaming me, the world could become a little, just a little more sane and peaceful and happy. So this is me for the night. God i'm so happy that nobody other than me actually reads this because i'd be really, really messed up if someone else finds out so much about what's going on in my head right now. #perksofbeingafriendlessandunpopularloser. Peace.
I'm also tired of being the one who always turns into the odd-one-out. For me, things have always been like this. First hour, i'm into socializing and talking and making jokes about things that aren't really funny and just trying to do things that hold people together. Second hour, i talk and i nod and i watch things play out from the passenger seat. Third hour, i stop talking and i lose interest in everything and i wander into the darkness and see how everything is from an even further distance. Fourth hour, i start hating on things and i curse at anyone who attempts a conversation and i throw shitty looks at everyone and ruin everybody's damn day. When do i turn into the odd-one-out? At the end of the second hour. It's because only when i'm seeing things from the sidelines, i see how i've never really fitted in with everything. I turn around and i see people, friends, family, chatting and laughing and having the time of their lives while i'm just there. It's like i'm always just there, after the second hour that is.
So, this is like a uh, a process with actual steps that i go through everyday of my life. It always happens automatically. I don't have to set a timer or reminder and it works like there's some biological clock within me that likes the idea of me playing a part in this stupid process of becoming the odd-one-out. I can't help it either because this process thing, it's kind of like a wake-up call telling me that it's time to wake up and clean your face so you can see that you're not really in the crowd, you're just in the room with the crowd. It gives me a hard, cold reminder that i don't have to keep trying to get or become something that i'm not and will never be able to be. I will never really be a part of something, not in a group of friends, not in a group of mutual liking people, not even in my own family, but you know, it's me, not them. It has always been just me. I wish if like um, by blaming me, the world could become a little, just a little more sane and peaceful and happy. So this is me for the night. God i'm so happy that nobody other than me actually reads this because i'd be really, really messed up if someone else finds out so much about what's going on in my head right now. #perksofbeingafriendlessandunpopularloser. Peace.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Back From Paradise And Now It's Back To Paradise Minus The Letters PARAS So It's Just DIE Now But Before That A Story Must Be Told
Paradise is the cool(most of the time cold) wind breezing past and slapping itself against your face in the land of California. Yes, i was there on holiday about four days ago and it was amazing. The atmosphere, the weather, the people, the freedom, the everything there is just great and it leaves your memory in a bittersweet place that you find yourself visiting ever so often. It's bitter because you know you can't actually go back there anymore, yet it's sweet because you get to still revisit as much as you desire within your mind. Obviously, i enjoyed my short trip overseas accompanied by my mom and brother although the horrific experience on board of a 777 plane leaves me, well, rather reluctant to get on another plane anytime soon. I mean hey a 15-hour flight that was constantly disturbed by heavy, and when i say heavy I MEAN HEAVY, turbulence was not very pleasant, especially when you're kind of a anxious flier. Heck, i didn't even know i was afraid of jumpy plane rides till the plane shook 10 minutes into the air. And of course, before the 15-h flight, we had a 2-h one, and then the 5-h to Hong Kong came along before the longest of all knocked on our doors. So yes 22 hours plus waiting time in multiple airports was not very good motivation to get people pumped up for their overseas trip to America. Did i mention i was also suffering from the flu, cough, extremely bad throat infection and bipolar headaches during the long and torturous journey from my hometown to the state of California? I kid you not.
Upon our arrival at the San Francisco International Airport(it was around 9 something at night), not only have i discovered that i've lost my voice(i had to communicate with people through hand motions and typing the words out on my phone because apparently i suck at mouthing), i was also quite under-dressed. 5 minutes outside the airport waiting for the shuttle back to the hotel and you could already see the blood draining from my cheeks. It was cold alright, but it was freezing for me because dumb-bitch here forgot to pack an extra coat in case i got sick on the way, which i did. Thank you God, for blessing me with such a great brain and the ability to think ahead. And because my life is a joke to God and his fellow angels, the shuttle got here a little over 25 minutes of us waiting outside in the cold, almost-midnight air. Not only did the driver hadn't apologized, he also took his time exiting his warm, comfortable driver's seat in the white shuttle. So after making small talk with the driver who turned out to be Chinese for hmmm about 45 minutes, we reached our shelter for the few nights we were gonna spend in the city of San Francisco.
Blablahbluhhhh we got in, got comfy, got our stomachs filled and then got sleepy. Who cared about jet lag? We slept like, well, we just slept really well. I woke up the next morning with my throat feeling even worse than before. Definitely no talking for me that day which was really sad because my excitement and joy could only be expressed through shrugs, yay-ing silently and hand-waving. So we went around town, looking at scenery that can only be found in San Fran yabadabadeedooo and then we went to the most exciting place of the day-- Rasputin's Music. Maybe i'm being biased here but wow, it was the most beautiful, most awesome place i've ever been in(The Grand Canyon comes in second and Taylor Jardine in third). Tidy DVD racks were seen as i gleefully entered the store. They had a section, "Punk Rock Metal on 3rd floor". I immediately knew where my calling was. When the doors to the lift opened, it was like the opening of the Golden Gates of Heaven. I rushed in without a second to spare and started looking through every name of artist/band they had on the racks. They were in alphabetical order and thank God because finally, something easy in life. All the band names looked familiar to me and they were oh-so-bootiful but only one band had that number one spot in my heart when i was at the store and it was Mayday Parade. Soon enough, i found them and all the six albums they had stacked up. Naturally i'd just take all six and leave the premises with no regrets whatsoever, but i wasn't very fond of their debut album so i ditched the piece and grabbed the rest of the five. I took two more albums later on but i was already fully contempt with my Mayday Parades. Life was a complete circle now. I was ready to pass on if my time was up, but no because it was just my first day in the States and i would be staying for another 12 days? So we went back to the hotel, happy and high(it was just me) and slept. I did wake up in the middle of the night to go over to the bag containing my albums and carefully, lovingly caress them in my hands, feeling the smooth texture of the plastic cover.
Anyways, San Fran was cool, with their ups-and-downs-streets(when people say "oh that place? yeah it's just a good two blocks down" don't hesitate to get on the tram because two blocks is a lie just because it seems close doesn't mean it is with the hills they got going on in that place), their Golden Gate Bridge, Fishermen's Worth(they serve mouthgasmic seafood and have a lot of sea lions sunbathing by the bay) and most importantly, Rasputin's Music. Also, we took a day off to visit this wonderful place called Yosemite(pronounced as you-seh-me-dee) National Park. There were a lot of trees. And rocks. Big, big trees and even bigger rocks. It was an amazing and mind-blowing sight because i've never liked trees because when there are trees, there are bound to be snakes and insects and things-that-kill-you but nope, not the trees you see in Yosemite National Park. They were so beautiful, the only thing you'll remember about trees is how much you wanna live in them. We were oh-ing and wow-ing and oh-my-god-ing everywhere around the park but it was also freezing up there so there were also constant mom-i'm-cold, mom-can-we-sit-down, mom-can-we-burn-ourselves-alive and mom-lets-just-leave-before-we-die-of-hypothermia. Yeap it was one hell of a day because it only took us about four hours to get from the city and up to the park and we spent around 5 hours there before making our descend which took around an hour because damn it was one steep mountain-hill-thing with a shitload of twists and turns and another 3 hours on the road.
Three days in San Fran and we were off to the City of Angels or what i'd like to call the City of Fallen Stars because do you know how many pop stars/actors/actresses lose their morality and whatnot there all in the name of fame and fortune? Yeah, so the City of Fallen Stars. We reached LAX in the morning and again waited for a looooooong while before our ride finally arrived. It only took this guy 75 minutes to get to us this time round even though the travel agency promised great service which no doubt included great punctuality. When the car came(it was a Lexus), i was like damn straight you better come in one of them better automobiles but as the Lexus drove nearer to us, the heavily bass rap song was also becoming clearer than distilled water in a Chemistry lab. Out came a pretty lengthy fellow with one of those hats i call a "swag hat". The dude also had a varsity jacket and RayBans on. Immediately i thought "oh a total swag fag" and then he started to talk. "Yo i'm so sorry i'm late but uhh traffic was so sick. Here lemme get yo bags." When i tried to help him with the luggage, he went all "No no s'alright i can handle this man. You guys just go chill in the car." Yeah imagine a black dude in this scenario and everything's cool, but change the black dude to some young 22-year old Chinese kid with the stereotypical Chinese accent and what do you get? A scene from the comedy film "Life of a girl named Valerie Chan" available now in Blu-ray Disc at DVD stores Heaven-wide because yes, my life is indeed a joke to God.
After the whole I'm-Chinese-but-with-the-soul-of-a-black-rapper scene, we got to our room and i just fell faced down onto my bed and stayed that way for 2 hours thanks to Chinese swag fag just now who left us waiting at the airport for a good an hour and 15 minutes standing around like a bunch of sick and lost puppies(i was the only sick puppy but i got my voice back) wondering if he had died in a car crash or something. I was undeniably convinced that Chinese people were as punctual as much as they are reliable(Made In China=Bad Omen). By the way, the city of Los Angeles is not what it seemed to be like in movies. Well, yeah it actually is but you're so focused on the hot actors and actresses there you forget that L.A is actually a gigantic piece of desert land, much like Vegas. It's like you're on the highway and you see these green-colored signs above you with the road names and whatnot and you just have your deer-in-the-headlights-moment but then you turn over to the window-screen on your right and you see these dead, dried up plants on the side of the road, oh wait i meant dirt, like really-really dried-up dirt. I'm not even sure if they were plants? but i'm sure those were dirt next to the road. So that's how deserts are like, only this desert is cold, have dirt instead of sand and is the centre of the Entertainment Industry. Not much to look at compared to the city of San Fran, but it wasn't as cold here in L.A than it was back in S.F. It actually feels much like home in L.A, the weather i mean, but just cooler and has more dried-up dirt. Oh, and dead plants.
So, L.A wasn't much to see. Just this and that, the city tour, the nearest mall to the resort i was staying in, Universal Studios. UNIVERSAL STUDIOS. Wow okay, yeah so this is like the single most interesting thing in L.A, other than "the slums of Beverly Hills"(quote from my all-time-fav-movie-to-quote-from, White Chicks) where all these rich and maybe-famous people were living in, but it's not like we could break into their three zillion dollar mansion with pool and built-in jacuzzi in every room, steal their undergourments and toothbrushes, take selfies with their curtains and couches and exit the premises without getting hunted down by the LAPD.
After Universal Studios, we went to the most popular, expensive, desirable to all shopaholics shopping center? shopping area? shopping place? in America, a place called Rodeo(pronounced row-day-yo but why not just row-di-o?) Drive. What i found amusing though, was that Rodeo Drive was included in the city tour. I mean people, wait let me just scratch that. Rich-like-their-nuts-are-plated-gold people come here to shop but nope sorry we just came here to take pictures and stare into the windows of branded stores like Tiffany's, Louis Vuitton, i-don't-really-know-much-about-designer-stuff-so and gawk at their empty racks because it was 7 in the frickin' morning and no one this rich is up yet to spend an amount of someone-else's-life-saving-of-60-years on a pair of socks. So yes, my family and i and the rest of the tourists were waltzing around this disgustingly magnificent place where only the rich is accustomed to visit, pretending like we own the damn streets when in truth, most of us couldn't even afford a bottle of drinking water here. We might stand a chance with a tiny cup of tap water though. Might.
Before the trip down rich-and-famous-lane, we spent a day at Universal Studios and my, it was a day well spent. And for people out there who think that tours are stupid, you my friend are absolutely wrong. Not only do you save (some)money, you get to save a crap-ton of time as well. If you go to ginormous amusement parks like Disney World or not-as-ginormous Universal Studios, you're bound to get lost and end up wasting your day trying to find you way to Pirates of The Caribbean or Transformers: The Ride only to end up going on Winnie the Pooh's Great Adventures! So, join a tour because they bring you to the important and popular locations or rides you probably would want to get on beforehand. Universal Studios is a pretty cool place to be in if you're into movies and even cooler if you're really really into movies cause there are all kinds of rides based on the movies you watch and there is also a splendid behind-the-scenes tour which makes you go "aaah ooooh i seeee so that's how they did it how utterly brilliant" or if you prefer the more vulgar teen-angst way of speaking "jesus are you for real these are some smart motherfuckers man". You get to see all these stages they set up, to film all kinds of scenes in and if you're a serious movie buff, the whole trip will be you going "OH THAT'S WHERE THEY FILMED FRANKENSTEIN'S 1981 REMAKE AND OH OH OHH THAT'S WHERE THE JONAS BROTHERS WERE SHOT IN THAT MUSIC VIDEO". All in all, it was a pretty cool place to be in. It's the only place where you get to see your movies come to death(cause lifeXdeath) because going to the Universal Studios and seeing the BTS can be described as Edward Cullen stripping in front of a crowd of red hooded people in a scene of The Twilight Saga: New Moon for when he's all done with unbuttoning his blue buttoned-down shirt and you see his half-naked body, a thought similar to this will cross your mind, "Seriously? That's it? All the mysterious hotness of Edward Cullen and that is what it actually looks like? LOLOLOL OKAYY?" because once you're seeing the BTS it's like you're seeing your movie for what it really is. A fake. Just like Edward Cullen's supposed hotness. That New York City backdrop from Heroes? Just a big, fat green-colored screen. Dracula's evil little coffin? A freakin' cardboard box. The man-eating shark from Jaws? A miniature stuffed toy. Once you get the real picture behind the motion pictures, you will find out that your whole life is a lie.Yeah, Universal Studios will do that that to you. They ought to put up a sign at the entrance of Universal Studious, "Children under the age of 12 are not allowed unless appropriate consultation with professionals have been done", but it was great though. Universal Studios California was fun, mind-blowing and possibly even life-altering.
Right, i feel like i've been typing for hours and it's not like anybody alive is going to see this. HAHA WHO THE HECK AM I TRYING TO KID. Even the dead wouldn't care enough to read this crap-o-a-blog, but umm(bottoms up if you watched How I Met Your Mother season 5 episode 13: Jenkins) this has been fun. cause i got to do this little reminiscing thingie i call 'Blast to the Past'. Keep in mind though as there is more to come. Peace.
Upon our arrival at the San Francisco International Airport(it was around 9 something at night), not only have i discovered that i've lost my voice(i had to communicate with people through hand motions and typing the words out on my phone because apparently i suck at mouthing), i was also quite under-dressed. 5 minutes outside the airport waiting for the shuttle back to the hotel and you could already see the blood draining from my cheeks. It was cold alright, but it was freezing for me because dumb-bitch here forgot to pack an extra coat in case i got sick on the way, which i did. Thank you God, for blessing me with such a great brain and the ability to think ahead. And because my life is a joke to God and his fellow angels, the shuttle got here a little over 25 minutes of us waiting outside in the cold, almost-midnight air. Not only did the driver hadn't apologized, he also took his time exiting his warm, comfortable driver's seat in the white shuttle. So after making small talk with the driver who turned out to be Chinese for hmmm about 45 minutes, we reached our shelter for the few nights we were gonna spend in the city of San Francisco.
Blablahbluhhhh we got in, got comfy, got our stomachs filled and then got sleepy. Who cared about jet lag? We slept like, well, we just slept really well. I woke up the next morning with my throat feeling even worse than before. Definitely no talking for me that day which was really sad because my excitement and joy could only be expressed through shrugs, yay-ing silently and hand-waving. So we went around town, looking at scenery that can only be found in San Fran yabadabadeedooo and then we went to the most exciting place of the day-- Rasputin's Music. Maybe i'm being biased here but wow, it was the most beautiful, most awesome place i've ever been in(The Grand Canyon comes in second and Taylor Jardine in third). Tidy DVD racks were seen as i gleefully entered the store. They had a section, "Punk Rock Metal on 3rd floor". I immediately knew where my calling was. When the doors to the lift opened, it was like the opening of the Golden Gates of Heaven. I rushed in without a second to spare and started looking through every name of artist/band they had on the racks. They were in alphabetical order and thank God because finally, something easy in life. All the band names looked familiar to me and they were oh-so-bootiful but only one band had that number one spot in my heart when i was at the store and it was Mayday Parade. Soon enough, i found them and all the six albums they had stacked up. Naturally i'd just take all six and leave the premises with no regrets whatsoever, but i wasn't very fond of their debut album so i ditched the piece and grabbed the rest of the five. I took two more albums later on but i was already fully contempt with my Mayday Parades. Life was a complete circle now. I was ready to pass on if my time was up, but no because it was just my first day in the States and i would be staying for another 12 days? So we went back to the hotel, happy and high(it was just me) and slept. I did wake up in the middle of the night to go over to the bag containing my albums and carefully, lovingly caress them in my hands, feeling the smooth texture of the plastic cover.
Anyways, San Fran was cool, with their ups-and-downs-streets(when people say "oh that place? yeah it's just a good two blocks down" don't hesitate to get on the tram because two blocks is a lie just because it seems close doesn't mean it is with the hills they got going on in that place), their Golden Gate Bridge, Fishermen's Worth(they serve mouthgasmic seafood and have a lot of sea lions sunbathing by the bay) and most importantly, Rasputin's Music. Also, we took a day off to visit this wonderful place called Yosemite(pronounced as you-seh-me-dee) National Park. There were a lot of trees. And rocks. Big, big trees and even bigger rocks. It was an amazing and mind-blowing sight because i've never liked trees because when there are trees, there are bound to be snakes and insects and things-that-kill-you but nope, not the trees you see in Yosemite National Park. They were so beautiful, the only thing you'll remember about trees is how much you wanna live in them. We were oh-ing and wow-ing and oh-my-god-ing everywhere around the park but it was also freezing up there so there were also constant mom-i'm-cold, mom-can-we-sit-down, mom-can-we-burn-ourselves-alive and mom-lets-just-leave-before-we-die-of-hypothermia. Yeap it was one hell of a day because it only took us about four hours to get from the city and up to the park and we spent around 5 hours there before making our descend which took around an hour because damn it was one steep mountain-hill-thing with a shitload of twists and turns and another 3 hours on the road.
Three days in San Fran and we were off to the City of Angels or what i'd like to call the City of Fallen Stars because do you know how many pop stars/actors/actresses lose their morality and whatnot there all in the name of fame and fortune? Yeah, so the City of Fallen Stars. We reached LAX in the morning and again waited for a looooooong while before our ride finally arrived. It only took this guy 75 minutes to get to us this time round even though the travel agency promised great service which no doubt included great punctuality. When the car came(it was a Lexus), i was like damn straight you better come in one of them better automobiles but as the Lexus drove nearer to us, the heavily bass rap song was also becoming clearer than distilled water in a Chemistry lab. Out came a pretty lengthy fellow with one of those hats i call a "swag hat". The dude also had a varsity jacket and RayBans on. Immediately i thought "oh a total swag fag" and then he started to talk. "Yo i'm so sorry i'm late but uhh traffic was so sick. Here lemme get yo bags." When i tried to help him with the luggage, he went all "No no s'alright i can handle this man. You guys just go chill in the car." Yeah imagine a black dude in this scenario and everything's cool, but change the black dude to some young 22-year old Chinese kid with the stereotypical Chinese accent and what do you get? A scene from the comedy film "Life of a girl named Valerie Chan" available now in Blu-ray Disc at DVD stores Heaven-wide because yes, my life is indeed a joke to God.
After the whole I'm-Chinese-but-with-the-soul-of-a-black-rapper scene, we got to our room and i just fell faced down onto my bed and stayed that way for 2 hours thanks to Chinese swag fag just now who left us waiting at the airport for a good an hour and 15 minutes standing around like a bunch of sick and lost puppies(i was the only sick puppy but i got my voice back) wondering if he had died in a car crash or something. I was undeniably convinced that Chinese people were as punctual as much as they are reliable(Made In China=Bad Omen). By the way, the city of Los Angeles is not what it seemed to be like in movies. Well, yeah it actually is but you're so focused on the hot actors and actresses there you forget that L.A is actually a gigantic piece of desert land, much like Vegas. It's like you're on the highway and you see these green-colored signs above you with the road names and whatnot and you just have your deer-in-the-headlights-moment but then you turn over to the window-screen on your right and you see these dead, dried up plants on the side of the road, oh wait i meant dirt, like really-really dried-up dirt. I'm not even sure if they were plants? but i'm sure those were dirt next to the road. So that's how deserts are like, only this desert is cold, have dirt instead of sand and is the centre of the Entertainment Industry. Not much to look at compared to the city of San Fran, but it wasn't as cold here in L.A than it was back in S.F. It actually feels much like home in L.A, the weather i mean, but just cooler and has more dried-up dirt. Oh, and dead plants.
So, L.A wasn't much to see. Just this and that, the city tour, the nearest mall to the resort i was staying in, Universal Studios. UNIVERSAL STUDIOS. Wow okay, yeah so this is like the single most interesting thing in L.A, other than "the slums of Beverly Hills"(quote from my all-time-fav-movie-to-quote-from, White Chicks) where all these rich and maybe-famous people were living in, but it's not like we could break into their three zillion dollar mansion with pool and built-in jacuzzi in every room, steal their undergourments and toothbrushes, take selfies with their curtains and couches and exit the premises without getting hunted down by the LAPD.
After Universal Studios, we went to the most popular, expensive, desirable to all shopaholics shopping center? shopping area? shopping place? in America, a place called Rodeo(pronounced row-day-yo but why not just row-di-o?) Drive. What i found amusing though, was that Rodeo Drive was included in the city tour. I mean people, wait let me just scratch that. Rich-like-their-nuts-are-plated-gold people come here to shop but nope sorry we just came here to take pictures and stare into the windows of branded stores like Tiffany's, Louis Vuitton, i-don't-really-know-much-about-designer-stuff-so and gawk at their empty racks because it was 7 in the frickin' morning and no one this rich is up yet to spend an amount of someone-else's-life-saving-of-60-years on a pair of socks. So yes, my family and i and the rest of the tourists were waltzing around this disgustingly magnificent place where only the rich is accustomed to visit, pretending like we own the damn streets when in truth, most of us couldn't even afford a bottle of drinking water here. We might stand a chance with a tiny cup of tap water though. Might.
Before the trip down rich-and-famous-lane, we spent a day at Universal Studios and my, it was a day well spent. And for people out there who think that tours are stupid, you my friend are absolutely wrong. Not only do you save (some)money, you get to save a crap-ton of time as well. If you go to ginormous amusement parks like Disney World or not-as-ginormous Universal Studios, you're bound to get lost and end up wasting your day trying to find you way to Pirates of The Caribbean or Transformers: The Ride only to end up going on Winnie the Pooh's Great Adventures! So, join a tour because they bring you to the important and popular locations or rides you probably would want to get on beforehand. Universal Studios is a pretty cool place to be in if you're into movies and even cooler if you're really really into movies cause there are all kinds of rides based on the movies you watch and there is also a splendid behind-the-scenes tour which makes you go "aaah ooooh i seeee so that's how they did it how utterly brilliant" or if you prefer the more vulgar teen-angst way of speaking "jesus are you for real these are some smart motherfuckers man". You get to see all these stages they set up, to film all kinds of scenes in and if you're a serious movie buff, the whole trip will be you going "OH THAT'S WHERE THEY FILMED FRANKENSTEIN'S 1981 REMAKE AND OH OH OHH THAT'S WHERE THE JONAS BROTHERS WERE SHOT IN THAT MUSIC VIDEO". All in all, it was a pretty cool place to be in. It's the only place where you get to see your movies come to death(cause lifeXdeath) because going to the Universal Studios and seeing the BTS can be described as Edward Cullen stripping in front of a crowd of red hooded people in a scene of The Twilight Saga: New Moon for when he's all done with unbuttoning his blue buttoned-down shirt and you see his half-naked body, a thought similar to this will cross your mind, "Seriously? That's it? All the mysterious hotness of Edward Cullen and that is what it actually looks like? LOLOLOL OKAYY?" because once you're seeing the BTS it's like you're seeing your movie for what it really is. A fake. Just like Edward Cullen's supposed hotness. That New York City backdrop from Heroes? Just a big, fat green-colored screen. Dracula's evil little coffin? A freakin' cardboard box. The man-eating shark from Jaws? A miniature stuffed toy. Once you get the real picture behind the motion pictures, you will find out that your whole life is a lie.Yeah, Universal Studios will do that that to you. They ought to put up a sign at the entrance of Universal Studious, "Children under the age of 12 are not allowed unless appropriate consultation with professionals have been done", but it was great though. Universal Studios California was fun, mind-blowing and possibly even life-altering.
Right, i feel like i've been typing for hours and it's not like anybody alive is going to see this. HAHA WHO THE HECK AM I TRYING TO KID. Even the dead wouldn't care enough to read this crap-o-a-blog, but umm(bottoms up if you watched How I Met Your Mother season 5 episode 13: Jenkins) this has been fun. cause i got to do this little reminiscing thingie i call 'Blast to the Past'. Keep in mind though as there is more to come. Peace.
Friday, November 1, 2013
Songs of Scenarios (encouragement for grandma)
Give me any reason to believe
Cause i swear i'm done here
Cause i've seen the bigger picture
And i'm looking for some answers
Tell me that it's worth it
Cause i'm doing all i can to fight it
And i've never been this scared
And my moment's finally here
Time's racing
Please slow down
I' got to find my way out
I'm hopeless
But hoping
My lungs won't fail me now
Cause i'm still breathing
It's hard to be a man
But i'm doing all i can
I'm ready to give this all i have
I'm ready to be amazed
Cause i'm standing here alone
Trying to make this life my own
And nothing will keep this heart from beating
I'm still breathing
Promise me some dignity
If i were to stand and die here
Cause my heart is somewhere else
It's a pain i've never felt
Time's racing
Please slow down
I' got to find my way out
I'm hopeless
But hoping
My lungs won't fail me now
Cause i'm still breathing
It's hard to be a man
But i'm doing all i can
I'm ready to give this i have
I'm ready to be amazed
Cause i'm standing here alone
Trying to make this life my own
And nothing will keep this heart from beating
I'm still breathing
Where do we all find love
Where do we all find love
It's hard to be a man
But i'm doing all i can
I'm ready to give this all i have
I'm ready to be amazed
Cause i'm standing here alone
Trying to make this life my own
And nothing will keep this heart from beating
I'm still breathing
Still Breathing
- Mayday Parade
This song is dedicated to my grandma who lived and is still living life without a day of peace. To her, every single waking moment is a struggle. Even though she pulled through it in her younger days, it kills me to say that she's no longer the former headstrong 25 year old that she was and now everything is just so much harder because she's older, weaker and she's getting tired. I hope that the lyrics to this song will find its way to her and help her in ways that we can't. Stay strong, po.
Cause i swear i'm done here
Cause i've seen the bigger picture
And i'm looking for some answers
Tell me that it's worth it
Cause i'm doing all i can to fight it
And i've never been this scared
And my moment's finally here
Time's racing
Please slow down
I' got to find my way out
I'm hopeless
But hoping
My lungs won't fail me now
Cause i'm still breathing
It's hard to be a man
But i'm doing all i can
I'm ready to give this all i have
I'm ready to be amazed
Cause i'm standing here alone
Trying to make this life my own
And nothing will keep this heart from beating
I'm still breathing
Promise me some dignity
If i were to stand and die here
Cause my heart is somewhere else
It's a pain i've never felt
Time's racing
Please slow down
I' got to find my way out
I'm hopeless
But hoping
My lungs won't fail me now
Cause i'm still breathing
It's hard to be a man
But i'm doing all i can
I'm ready to give this i have
I'm ready to be amazed
Cause i'm standing here alone
Trying to make this life my own
And nothing will keep this heart from beating
I'm still breathing
Where do we all find love
Where do we all find love
It's hard to be a man
But i'm doing all i can
I'm ready to give this all i have
I'm ready to be amazed
Cause i'm standing here alone
Trying to make this life my own
And nothing will keep this heart from beating
I'm still breathing
Still Breathing
- Mayday Parade
This song is dedicated to my grandma who lived and is still living life without a day of peace. To her, every single waking moment is a struggle. Even though she pulled through it in her younger days, it kills me to say that she's no longer the former headstrong 25 year old that she was and now everything is just so much harder because she's older, weaker and she's getting tired. I hope that the lyrics to this song will find its way to her and help her in ways that we can't. Stay strong, po.
Songs of Scenarios (grandma's younger days)
I can't believe that so much time was spent on my own
Just trying to figure it out all alone
Don't show emotion
Let this go
I can't pretend that everything is still okay
Until you rightfully say what you say
But now you left me here for dead
For dead
Why do you cry when you're falling asleep and
Girl, how can you love without ever losing it all
Don't put your faith in this when you won't believe it
Where did you go
How will you find yourself
When your hands to hold is letting go
Where did you go
How will you tell yourself you're losing hope
Losing hope
Is it just me or has the time we spent come undone
I know forever is not what you want
I'll pack my bags and brush it off
Brush it off
Why do you cry when you're falling asleep and
Girl, how can you love without ever losing it all
Don't put your faith in this when you won't believe it
Where did you go
How will you find yourself
When your hands to hold is letting go
Where did you go
How will you tell yourself you're losing hope
Tell me that you're alright
Why do we fight sometimes
Just try and make up your mind
Try and make up your mind
Call Me Hopeless, But Not Romantic
- Mayday Parade
How my grandmother did it and make it out alive, i'll never know.
Life At Its Finest, I'm Sure
You know why people say “Life’s a bitch”? Well because it
really is. No matter how much you try, how much you give, how much you’ve sacrificed,
life will always find a way to come back and stab you in the back. Maybe this
isn’t God’s plan of life or whatever, but it sure is happening. Lately, i've been stressed out but not pressured about things happening within the family tree. Something is happening, something has happened, something sad, twisted and horrible. This something, i'm saddened to say, has befallen on the tired shoulders of my grandma, the one i hold dearest to my heart though it does take some reminding at times because God knows how much of a bitch i am. As if life hasn't been the kindest to her, now even at the age where paradise and all-things-good should be promised to one, she still has to go through all these, shit. I won't go into details because we shouldn't wash our dirty linen in public or something like that, especially when you're of the Chinese bloodline where pride, honor and face is our whole world, but to those who are reading this(no one) and understand what's actually going on at home, i'd just like to say, it's nobody's fault.
I honestly think no one should be blamed here, though i still have an undeniable urge to march down my uncle's house in California, drag his mental wife out into the woods, bash her head with all the rage and hate within my being, sprinkle her with leaves of Poison Ivy and then leave her to fend for her wounds there. So as i was saying before i was rudely cut off by the darker part of my mind, i honestly think no one should be blamed here, no one but life and fate. Why? It's because this thing that's happening, it wasn't supposed to be like this. This shouldn't be happening. If my aunt weren't crazed, yeah she's probably mentally ill right now, all this would have ceased to happen. My grandma would've been enjoying her time in Cali with her son, daughter-in-law and of course, the latest grandchild of the family, my youngest cousin to date. She wouldn't need to deal with this torture, this sadness, this guilt because the last person on earth to deserve treatment of this sort is my grandma. She hadn't done anything but great things in life. As a young woman, she was abandoned by her asshole husband who shall not be named, and had to lock away all her misery, all the ugly feelings that she was accustomed to feel in situations like these to bring up her three precious children single-handedly, my mom, my first uncle and my second uncle.
Though she had every right to pull the alcoholic, neglectful mother who was ditched by her husband for some 20 year-old child, she hung on to the thin thread that was holding her to her kids. She raised them like any good mother would, hell, she probably did a better job than most. She had put her kids first before her own life, because to her, her three kids were her life, they were all that she had left and she had a responsible to bring them up because she is their mother. So, my grandma, a single mother from an era where divorcees and homosexuals are shunned even more than now, manned-up and took care of her children who are all nothing less than successful now. My mom and her brothers are living life in luxury now because their mother had raised them up well.
Do you think raising three kids with your own two hands is easy when you're a jobless woman who have no connections with the outside world until the man you loved and thought had loved you back drove out of the front porch and into the arms of some UGH. My grandmother is a hero. She didn't need to die in battlefield or discover gravity from a fallen apple to receive a medal for bravery and award for whatever, i don't know. No, because she deserved much, much more than that. And then now, with this shit happening, oh god, i can't go on. I just hope things would be okay again for my grandma, she really doesn't need this right now or ever.
Saturday, October 5, 2013
John Green
Yeah i admire his work so much i'm actually dedicating this update to him. So far, i've only read two book of his, 'The Fault In Our Stars' and 'Looking For Alaska' which were both equally great in story-line, character development and writing. I adore his simple, yet so very deep way with words. I remember the first time i saw the book, my friend had brought it with her to school and i was immediately captivated by the cover of the book, 'Looking For Alaska". It was black, with the pattern of what seemed to be like white smoke, which made more sense after reading the book as it actually bares a connection to the book itself, mainly the female lead of the book, Alaska Young. My first book from John Green though, was 'The Fault In Our Stars'. Reading it, i've never felt such amazement, such wonder obtained from a novel in my sixteen short years of life. It took me on a ride to the stars, making everything seemed so unreal, yet so right. I honestly don't know what i'm trying to describe here, obviously i give the shittiest book reviews ever but what i think i'm trying to say is that, John Green has changed my insight, the way i look at things and the way my head interprets them. It's not all about just touching the surface of things no more, now i know that instead of using phrases like "i'm so angry i can kill a cat" or "i'm so sad it's beyond words", i could make a better replacement out of them from phrases such as "this rage has blinded me to do things, horrible, terrible things" or "if the sky had a darkest shade of grey, it'd be today". It's not exactly simple as what comes after the letter B, but it's understandable. The words are simple, nothing fabulous or exquisite and very much easier to understand but are still fully capable of bearing that minor twist used by poets or literature icons in their work.
I've always been told that i'm a 'touch-and-go' person. Before this, i had a million questions about it, about what is touch-and-go and why am i a person who bares such qualities. Then, i picked up a wonderful novel dressed in a shade of blue that was so radiant, i'd never thought that while it was possibly the most amazing thing that i had held in my hands, it was also the most saddening, heart-breaking thing i've ever had the chance to come across. It taught me how to look deep between the simple words left behind by the dried ink of printing machines that were responsible for the millions of copies of the book. It taught me what inspiration was really like and how we don't need big, fancy words or an epic plot to touch people's hearts. My opinions have it that the two book i've had the pleasure to read from J.G were no doubt the most mellow thing i've ever laid my eyes upon. He doesn't have a story about the tragic lives lost at sea when a big ship rammed into an ice-berg, nor did he write about the great, forbidden love shared between two people that drove them towards the path of suicide. All he had to tell, was the not-so-typical but rather average and highly possible lives of people, mainly teenagers and what ordeal they had to face. What's so great about his books are that they mean something, but at the same time, drama was the last thing that shot across his mind while plotting out the stories. He didn't have to have the most epic climax or the most dramatic ending, all he wanted and aimed for was the thing closest to reality.
People usually remember movies or books for their dramatic or epic content, like i've already mentioned before, but what if, someone came up with a story about the life of an average teenager moving to an average boarding school and then meeting an average someone whom he thinks he likes. Does that sound exciting, thrilling to you? Does it make you wonder about what boring shit they've got inside the book? Because let me tell you something, sometimes it takes more than perfectly plotted lines you see in movies to make something memorable. Sometimes, the most average, most normal things will catch you off guard and make you realize that you will never ever forget about it. I'm not saying J.H's books are not dramatic at all, well in truth there are some dramatic parts added in for the impact and whatnot, but at least he didn't overdo it. He turned drama-ramas into just drama. No bonus drowning in water scene, or parts where the boys tells the girl to never forget him in words and phrases of nothing less than perfection. Do you know why people sometimes are annoyed by these soap operas or dramas they show on tv? Because nobody in real life would ever talk to anybody like that.
Like i said, J.G makes things simple yet deep at the same time.It's drama but not DRAMA. People die in his books in shocking ways but it wasn't because they were busy taking a bullet for their friend or trying to detonate a time-bomb from exploding. No, nothing of the sort. The way he plotted his character's death is just like any other cause of death that happens to everybody. It could be cancer, a robbery, an accident with the land mower. He didn't see the need to create an epic ending so that all of us would remember how he sacrificed his life to save the love of his life or how she gave him up because it was the only way to keep him alive. His books have endings that make people feel like they can actually believe the things that he have put into his books. They don't stray too far away from reality but the impact on the readers is the same, whether somebody died, or everyone lived happy ever after, because there is a sense of truth in his words and in the stories he told the world. He doesn't encourage us to chase after the one great love we're all destined to have or the fountain of youth hidden in some Chinese mountain. He's telling us what we don't realize about life, about the things that might be happening to certain people, but not us, about how we don't have to be waiting for 'The One' so that we can fall head over heels in love. We have to stop looking, dreaming of what might be beyond us because sometimes, it is possible for things to be impossible. We'll just have to live life the way it is and see what's coming for us tomorrow. J.G's way of writing has provided me with inspirations i thought had found in other sources. It taught me endless things but the most important one i got out of his books is that, he had taught me how to live.
Wow. Okay so i got carried away. I'm not rally sure what i've been babbling about for the past hour but i hope it captures the picture of what i'm trying to say. Peace.
I've always been told that i'm a 'touch-and-go' person. Before this, i had a million questions about it, about what is touch-and-go and why am i a person who bares such qualities. Then, i picked up a wonderful novel dressed in a shade of blue that was so radiant, i'd never thought that while it was possibly the most amazing thing that i had held in my hands, it was also the most saddening, heart-breaking thing i've ever had the chance to come across. It taught me how to look deep between the simple words left behind by the dried ink of printing machines that were responsible for the millions of copies of the book. It taught me what inspiration was really like and how we don't need big, fancy words or an epic plot to touch people's hearts. My opinions have it that the two book i've had the pleasure to read from J.G were no doubt the most mellow thing i've ever laid my eyes upon. He doesn't have a story about the tragic lives lost at sea when a big ship rammed into an ice-berg, nor did he write about the great, forbidden love shared between two people that drove them towards the path of suicide. All he had to tell, was the not-so-typical but rather average and highly possible lives of people, mainly teenagers and what ordeal they had to face. What's so great about his books are that they mean something, but at the same time, drama was the last thing that shot across his mind while plotting out the stories. He didn't have to have the most epic climax or the most dramatic ending, all he wanted and aimed for was the thing closest to reality.
People usually remember movies or books for their dramatic or epic content, like i've already mentioned before, but what if, someone came up with a story about the life of an average teenager moving to an average boarding school and then meeting an average someone whom he thinks he likes. Does that sound exciting, thrilling to you? Does it make you wonder about what boring shit they've got inside the book? Because let me tell you something, sometimes it takes more than perfectly plotted lines you see in movies to make something memorable. Sometimes, the most average, most normal things will catch you off guard and make you realize that you will never ever forget about it. I'm not saying J.H's books are not dramatic at all, well in truth there are some dramatic parts added in for the impact and whatnot, but at least he didn't overdo it. He turned drama-ramas into just drama. No bonus drowning in water scene, or parts where the boys tells the girl to never forget him in words and phrases of nothing less than perfection. Do you know why people sometimes are annoyed by these soap operas or dramas they show on tv? Because nobody in real life would ever talk to anybody like that.
Like i said, J.G makes things simple yet deep at the same time.It's drama but not DRAMA. People die in his books in shocking ways but it wasn't because they were busy taking a bullet for their friend or trying to detonate a time-bomb from exploding. No, nothing of the sort. The way he plotted his character's death is just like any other cause of death that happens to everybody. It could be cancer, a robbery, an accident with the land mower. He didn't see the need to create an epic ending so that all of us would remember how he sacrificed his life to save the love of his life or how she gave him up because it was the only way to keep him alive. His books have endings that make people feel like they can actually believe the things that he have put into his books. They don't stray too far away from reality but the impact on the readers is the same, whether somebody died, or everyone lived happy ever after, because there is a sense of truth in his words and in the stories he told the world. He doesn't encourage us to chase after the one great love we're all destined to have or the fountain of youth hidden in some Chinese mountain. He's telling us what we don't realize about life, about the things that might be happening to certain people, but not us, about how we don't have to be waiting for 'The One' so that we can fall head over heels in love. We have to stop looking, dreaming of what might be beyond us because sometimes, it is possible for things to be impossible. We'll just have to live life the way it is and see what's coming for us tomorrow. J.G's way of writing has provided me with inspirations i thought had found in other sources. It taught me endless things but the most important one i got out of his books is that, he had taught me how to live.
Wow. Okay so i got carried away. I'm not rally sure what i've been babbling about for the past hour but i hope it captures the picture of what i'm trying to say. Peace.
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Teen-girl Probs
Exam's in two weeks and i'm still here doing whatever a lazy person would do two weeks before their exam. I swear one day my laziness is going to get me killed, i know it. I admit that i don't really try to get over this lazy phase but i googled "study tips for lazy people" like 3 minutes ago and honestly, i don't think it helped much, just the typical logical answers about getting rid of Facebook, don't overstudy, exercise regularly, blablableh. Tell me something i don't know? Maybe i'll give the regular exercise a try, i could use the fat loosing session anyways. I feel like i'll be seeing layers of the most undesired body part in life very soon if i keep having these in-between-meals-meals. Oh god, i'm one unhealthy kid. Yes, getting fat is counted as one of my teen-girl problems that i have gotta come to terms with sooner or later, but i'm not THAT self-conscious about my weight, if i were would i still be digesting all these potato chips and carton of corn flavored ice-cream? I think not, but yeah needa start getting sweaty soon if i don't intend to transform myself into an Asian blob. Just the mere thought of it disgusts me. Bleh.
Alright, so what other teenage issues are annoying me right now? Oh yes, issues with the friends. I would be a liar if i said that my friends and i are a great friends, because i really don't think so. It's not them though, this one i'm perfectly aware of it being the way it is because of me. In shorter words, i am a shit friend. And this is bad, no, this is really bad because like my mom, i don't have a big circle of comrades, nope i have one small troupe of friends who would gladly hold my food for me while i tie my shoe, but not as willing to take a bullet for me. Who would anyways for such an evil bitch. I'm pretty sure even my family, who are biologically programmed to love me, will have a hard time choosing between me and 500 dollars. No seriously, i'm that individual whom people would get rid of as soon as the situation allowed it. Yes, i'm so bad that i'm not even worth 5000 dollars to my family, let alone the people i call my friends. Lately when i say things like "i don't know, i just don't really like him/her", my friends would be like "who do you like val huh who. tell me one person that you actually like" making it nothing less than obvious about the fact that i have issues with everyone. I won't deny the truth about me being a judgmental, hypocritical bitch, but aca-excuse me, i don't see you being all Mother Theresa either. I make mistakes about judging people, but did you really have to throw it at my face. That just really ticks me off. And you see why i'm such a shitty friend? Even when i'm trying to prove to people that i've been doing all the bad things in the friendship between me and my fellow friends, i somehow find my self-centered way to ranting about myself and the things they do that pisses me off like i'm trying to make them sound horrible even as i'm attempting to tell the world of Blogger that it's my fault, i did this. It's a disease, i tell you. This pathetic way of me dealing with things, especially extremely important and fragile things like friendships and relationships. I'm a horrible person. Well, fuck.
If there's a way to go around this, i would. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why i have to be so..bitchy. God, what the hell is wrong with me. I have friends, i care about them, i don't know if they care about me, but why do i have to be this annoying, bitchy, selfish, self-centered, pathetic piece of damaged shit. You know what i'd like to do? I'd very much like to torch myself alive for being such a crappy excuse for a friend, or a human being. I know people don't like me very much, heck, who am i kidding, they probably hate me to the very core that they wish they could put scorpions in my bed, yeah well i hate myself too. This isn't me asking for sympathy or attention or anything at all, i just wanted to be free of this bad-friend-curse. My friends deserve a better friend, the world deserves a better person, my family deserves someone better, someone more worthy of the life that i have before me, someone who isn't me. Oh god, i hope nobody ever reads this. Perks of being an unpopular bitch, people could care less about you. I see it now, how unwanted i am in this world. It's true and i know it. And all because of this horrible being that i've become today. How did i get here. How do i go back.
Alright, so what other teenage issues are annoying me right now? Oh yes, issues with the friends. I would be a liar if i said that my friends and i are a great friends, because i really don't think so. It's not them though, this one i'm perfectly aware of it being the way it is because of me. In shorter words, i am a shit friend. And this is bad, no, this is really bad because like my mom, i don't have a big circle of comrades, nope i have one small troupe of friends who would gladly hold my food for me while i tie my shoe, but not as willing to take a bullet for me. Who would anyways for such an evil bitch. I'm pretty sure even my family, who are biologically programmed to love me, will have a hard time choosing between me and 500 dollars. No seriously, i'm that individual whom people would get rid of as soon as the situation allowed it. Yes, i'm so bad that i'm not even worth 5000 dollars to my family, let alone the people i call my friends. Lately when i say things like "i don't know, i just don't really like him/her", my friends would be like "who do you like val huh who. tell me one person that you actually like" making it nothing less than obvious about the fact that i have issues with everyone. I won't deny the truth about me being a judgmental, hypocritical bitch, but aca-excuse me, i don't see you being all Mother Theresa either. I make mistakes about judging people, but did you really have to throw it at my face. That just really ticks me off. And you see why i'm such a shitty friend? Even when i'm trying to prove to people that i've been doing all the bad things in the friendship between me and my fellow friends, i somehow find my self-centered way to ranting about myself and the things they do that pisses me off like i'm trying to make them sound horrible even as i'm attempting to tell the world of Blogger that it's my fault, i did this. It's a disease, i tell you. This pathetic way of me dealing with things, especially extremely important and fragile things like friendships and relationships. I'm a horrible person. Well, fuck.
If there's a way to go around this, i would. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why i have to be so..bitchy. God, what the hell is wrong with me. I have friends, i care about them, i don't know if they care about me, but why do i have to be this annoying, bitchy, selfish, self-centered, pathetic piece of damaged shit. You know what i'd like to do? I'd very much like to torch myself alive for being such a crappy excuse for a friend, or a human being. I know people don't like me very much, heck, who am i kidding, they probably hate me to the very core that they wish they could put scorpions in my bed, yeah well i hate myself too. This isn't me asking for sympathy or attention or anything at all, i just wanted to be free of this bad-friend-curse. My friends deserve a better friend, the world deserves a better person, my family deserves someone better, someone more worthy of the life that i have before me, someone who isn't me. Oh god, i hope nobody ever reads this. Perks of being an unpopular bitch, people could care less about you. I see it now, how unwanted i am in this world. It's true and i know it. And all because of this horrible being that i've become today. How did i get here. How do i go back.
Monday, August 5, 2013
Oh it's the 5th of August
Yeah so why should this date be of any significance to anyone but me? Well, i don't think it should be because firstly, some people really could care less about their birthdays and if you're one of those friends who are like "O M G IT'S LIKE YOUR BIRTHDAY I'M GOING TO GET YOU ALL THE THINGS YOU WANT BECAUSE I LOVE YOU" but when you actually do get it for your birthday friends and their reaction happens to be a single-syllable word "cool" or a simple monotonous "thanks i like it", don't say i didn't warn ya.
And secondly, you could be the one having your birthday but sadly, no one actually put in an effort to mark it down on their calender or maybe even get you some lame birthday card just to put a smile on your already-sad-disappointed face and you're just all alone at home or in your bedroom flopped down on the bed, staring at the white ceiling caving over you while depression and a whole load of disappointment mount over you, suffocating you till you tell yourself how much you regret being brought to this world. Yeah so basically what i'm saying is that birthdays are a risky thing to handle, be it the birthday boy or the friend/family of the birthday boy cause there will always be two possibilities.
One, you disappoint.
Two, you get disappointed.
So the question is, am i the one who disappoint or am i the one who is disappointed today? Honestly, i cannot say because this will be a breach to my life-to-diary-not-online-journal-policy, so you sense my hesitation, BUT i will say that today will definitely go down the records as the "top 5 worst birthdays i could remember for the last 16 years of my life", not because i didn't get what i wanted (i kind of always get what i want but oh god i sound like a mega B for just saying this but it's funny so), or that everyone forgot that it was the day i came to exist, no, non of that B.S. It was more of a it's-my-birthday-i-should-be-super-duper-happy-crazy-but-i'm-not-i'm-just-super-depressed-and-emo-today kind of thing y'know. Didn't quite ask for this,but we don't control what we feel, or do we? This is exactly why i think i suffer from some sort of undiagnosed psychological disorder. I kind of just feel it sometimes. I don't know if this is me being overly-sensitive or paranoid about myself, but i've always thought that there was something inside me that isn't exactly known to the world yet. And man, do i wish that i was talking about some superhuman abilities like those from Heroes or X-Men. Or i could be over-thinking, which is something i totally rock at.
Well just, happy birthday to me.
Love,
Me.
And secondly, you could be the one having your birthday but sadly, no one actually put in an effort to mark it down on their calender or maybe even get you some lame birthday card just to put a smile on your already-sad-disappointed face and you're just all alone at home or in your bedroom flopped down on the bed, staring at the white ceiling caving over you while depression and a whole load of disappointment mount over you, suffocating you till you tell yourself how much you regret being brought to this world. Yeah so basically what i'm saying is that birthdays are a risky thing to handle, be it the birthday boy or the friend/family of the birthday boy cause there will always be two possibilities.
One, you disappoint.
Two, you get disappointed.
So the question is, am i the one who disappoint or am i the one who is disappointed today? Honestly, i cannot say because this will be a breach to my life-to-diary-not-online-journal-policy, so you sense my hesitation, BUT i will say that today will definitely go down the records as the "top 5 worst birthdays i could remember for the last 16 years of my life", not because i didn't get what i wanted (i kind of always get what i want but oh god i sound like a mega B for just saying this but it's funny so), or that everyone forgot that it was the day i came to exist, no, non of that B.S. It was more of a it's-my-birthday-i-should-be-super-duper-happy-crazy-but-i'm-not-i'm-just-super-depressed-and-emo-today kind of thing y'know. Didn't quite ask for this,but we don't control what we feel, or do we? This is exactly why i think i suffer from some sort of undiagnosed psychological disorder. I kind of just feel it sometimes. I don't know if this is me being overly-sensitive or paranoid about myself, but i've always thought that there was something inside me that isn't exactly known to the world yet. And man, do i wish that i was talking about some superhuman abilities like those from Heroes or X-Men. Or i could be over-thinking, which is something i totally rock at.
Well just, happy birthday to me.
Love,
Me.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Drama-rama
Ugh this entire month has been a torture. My family and their drama have been eating me alive. You'd think as adults, they'd have the sense to not drag teenagers with unstable emotions due to what hormonal change into whatever shit they got themselves into. I mean yeah it's not wrong to tell family about your problems, but oh my god it's not like my eardrums are made of steel. They just keep going on and on and on and on about their problems and then they're crying and cursing. I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE. Hello mom hello grandma, i'm a sixteen year old with problems too. I'm not exactly the free-est person in school i've got things to plan, shit to get done, and there you are, barging into my room which is the only place i can get peace and quiet and most importantly, my space, crying to me about how their lives suck right now. Well tell you what, LIFE IS SUCKY SO TAKE YOUR HEART2HEART SESSION SOMEWHERE ELSE. I'm not being mean or anything but i'm under a lot of pressure and stress (this is the part where you might scoff at but i'm serious) so when someone's about to crack up, you don't just throw all your complaints and gossips at them. We need space. I NEED MY SPACE and i need a drama-proof life. This entire month felt like one of those hokkien dramas that my aunt watches from morning till god knows when. I don't freaking need this. Do i ever complain to my mom or my grandma or to anyone else about my life, about the shit i'm in? NO I DO NOT. Maybe to my friends at times because somehow i can never shut up when i'm around them but NOT TO MY FAMILY BECAUSE I KNOW THEY HAVE THEIR OWN SHIT TO DEAL WITH SO I DON'T BURDEN THEM FURTHER WITH MINE, but do they have the consideration oF leaving me out of this web of drama? NO THEY FREAKING DON'T.
And that's not just it, my grandma, she needs to get that no one, not even the hardworking of the hardworking students study every freaking day. I never study and you expect me to suddenly study during every waking moment of mine? WHO STUDIES ON A SATURDAY AND SUNDAY NIGHT. WHO STUDIES THE AFTERNOON AFTER THEIR EXAM FINISHED WHO THE HELL DOES THAT. Example, last friday when my first term exam finished. I asked my grandma if i could hang with my friends at the local mall the day after and she said "why do you always wanna go out and have fun. Can't you just stay home and study like other people. What's wrong with you. You do know it's your future right? So can you grow up and do what's good for you?" And i replied "But my exam just finished today" Grandma said "So does that give you a reason to not study this afternoon?" OMG SERIOUSLY WHAT THE ACTUAL FUQ. I JUST FINISHED MY WEEK LONG EXAM AND YOU WON'T EVEN LET ME ENJOY ONE FREAKING AFTERNOON. AND IT'S NOT LIKE I GO OUT EVERY OTHER WEEKEND LIKE EVERYONE ELSE NO INSTEAD I STAY HOME BECAUSE MY FAMILY WON'T LET ME GO ANYWHERE ELSE OTHER THAN TO THE TUITION CENTER OR TO SCHOOL. AND WHEN MY FRIENDS ACTUALLY ASKED ME TO HANG OUT YOU TELL ME I GO OUT TOO MUCH THAT I DON'T STAY HOME ENOUGH THAT I ALWAYS WANNA HAVE FUN. WELL PEOPLE IF YOU HAD TAKEN OR LET ME OUT OF THE HOUSE MORE OFTEN THAN A COUPLE OF TIMES IN A MONTH MAYBE YOU WON'T BE HAVING THIS PROBLEM. Pssh i go out too much I'M SORRY YOUR FREAKING STATEMENT IS INVALID PLEASE TRY AGAIN. I'm just so pissed whenever i think of this. If this is not pressure than i don't know what is. Every time my grandma sees me around the house watching tv or reading my storybooks, she'll be all up in my ass saying "why aren't you studying and just wasting your time doing nothing. go study. it's for your own good" All she ever says to me nowadays is STUDY STUDY STUDY STUDY STUDY.
And then there's another matter of my grandma being an utter douche-snozzle. You're my grandma, you wanna tell me the truth sure, but will you please let it go through the filter in your head first please? You don't just call your grandchildren ugly or fat or disappointing or i-don't-care-about-you-anymore-i-just-wanna-leave-and-see-what-you're-gonna-do-without-me. And the most hated line of all 'i could be anywhere i want to be but instead i chose to stay here because of you and your brother. if you guys are thankful and show appreciation to my help then it's fine, but to be treated like i'm so much less that your grandmother, i really don't see the point of me staying, sometimes i just wish i could leave and see what happens to you". I lost track of how many times she's used that shit of a line on me. I get it, i get it, you're oh so noble by choosing to stay with us instead of doing blableh. But ugh, don't they realize that we hurt too? Their words, even though sometimes they don't mean it, but it doesn't stop them from cutting right through our hearts. They just practically say what they wanna say, don't give shit about how we feel and be all like you fuqing deserve it. People wonder why are there so many messed-up teenagers in this world who's suicidal and have problems, well it's about time they realize that adults are to blame. If they weren't so simple minded, inconsiderate and selfish, we as teenagers wouldn't be going through as much shit as we do.
Don't love each other? Don't get married. Don't wanna get involved with each others' shit? Leave and never turn back. Don't cause pain to other people, especially kids because they DO NOT DESERVE THIS. What they deserve is a happy, innocent childhood filled with heart-warming memories. I just ugh, adults suck. Big time.
And that's not just it, my grandma, she needs to get that no one, not even the hardworking of the hardworking students study every freaking day. I never study and you expect me to suddenly study during every waking moment of mine? WHO STUDIES ON A SATURDAY AND SUNDAY NIGHT. WHO STUDIES THE AFTERNOON AFTER THEIR EXAM FINISHED WHO THE HELL DOES THAT. Example, last friday when my first term exam finished. I asked my grandma if i could hang with my friends at the local mall the day after and she said "why do you always wanna go out and have fun. Can't you just stay home and study like other people. What's wrong with you. You do know it's your future right? So can you grow up and do what's good for you?" And i replied "But my exam just finished today" Grandma said "So does that give you a reason to not study this afternoon?" OMG SERIOUSLY WHAT THE ACTUAL FUQ. I JUST FINISHED MY WEEK LONG EXAM AND YOU WON'T EVEN LET ME ENJOY ONE FREAKING AFTERNOON. AND IT'S NOT LIKE I GO OUT EVERY OTHER WEEKEND LIKE EVERYONE ELSE NO INSTEAD I STAY HOME BECAUSE MY FAMILY WON'T LET ME GO ANYWHERE ELSE OTHER THAN TO THE TUITION CENTER OR TO SCHOOL. AND WHEN MY FRIENDS ACTUALLY ASKED ME TO HANG OUT YOU TELL ME I GO OUT TOO MUCH THAT I DON'T STAY HOME ENOUGH THAT I ALWAYS WANNA HAVE FUN. WELL PEOPLE IF YOU HAD TAKEN OR LET ME OUT OF THE HOUSE MORE OFTEN THAN A COUPLE OF TIMES IN A MONTH MAYBE YOU WON'T BE HAVING THIS PROBLEM. Pssh i go out too much I'M SORRY YOUR FREAKING STATEMENT IS INVALID PLEASE TRY AGAIN. I'm just so pissed whenever i think of this. If this is not pressure than i don't know what is. Every time my grandma sees me around the house watching tv or reading my storybooks, she'll be all up in my ass saying "why aren't you studying and just wasting your time doing nothing. go study. it's for your own good" All she ever says to me nowadays is STUDY STUDY STUDY STUDY STUDY.
And then there's another matter of my grandma being an utter douche-snozzle. You're my grandma, you wanna tell me the truth sure, but will you please let it go through the filter in your head first please? You don't just call your grandchildren ugly or fat or disappointing or i-don't-care-about-you-anymore-i-just-wanna-leave-and-see-what-you're-gonna-do-without-me. And the most hated line of all 'i could be anywhere i want to be but instead i chose to stay here because of you and your brother. if you guys are thankful and show appreciation to my help then it's fine, but to be treated like i'm so much less that your grandmother, i really don't see the point of me staying, sometimes i just wish i could leave and see what happens to you". I lost track of how many times she's used that shit of a line on me. I get it, i get it, you're oh so noble by choosing to stay with us instead of doing blableh. But ugh, don't they realize that we hurt too? Their words, even though sometimes they don't mean it, but it doesn't stop them from cutting right through our hearts. They just practically say what they wanna say, don't give shit about how we feel and be all like you fuqing deserve it. People wonder why are there so many messed-up teenagers in this world who's suicidal and have problems, well it's about time they realize that adults are to blame. If they weren't so simple minded, inconsiderate and selfish, we as teenagers wouldn't be going through as much shit as we do.
Don't love each other? Don't get married. Don't wanna get involved with each others' shit? Leave and never turn back. Don't cause pain to other people, especially kids because they DO NOT DESERVE THIS. What they deserve is a happy, innocent childhood filled with heart-warming memories. I just ugh, adults suck. Big time.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Songs of Scenarios (disappointing my parents)
And here's a perfect song to let people have an inside look of my current situation.
Hey dad, look at me
Think back and talk to me
Did i grow up according to plan
Do you think i'm wasting my time
Doing things i wanna do
And it hurts when you disapprove all along
And now i try hard to make it
I just wanna make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you
Can't pretend that i'm alright
And you can't change me
Cause we lost it all
Nothing lasts forever
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect
Now it's just too late
And we can't go back
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect
I try not to think
About the pain i feel inside
Do you know you used to be my hero
All the days you spent with me
Now seem so far away
And it feels like you don't care anymore
And now i try hard to make it
I just wanna make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you
I can't stand another fight
And nothing's alright
Cause we lost it all
Nothing lasts forever
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect
Now it's just too late
And we can't go back
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect
Nothing's gonna change the things that you said
Nothing's gonna make this right again
Please don't turn your back
I can't believe it's hard just to talk to you
But you don't understand
Cause we lost it all
Nothing lasts forever
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect
Now it's just too late
And we can't go back
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect
Thank you, Simple Plan, for coming up with 'Perfect', a wonderful song that everyone can easily relate to. As i was typing all of this out, i could literally feel the emotion, all the sadness and pain of this song. Well done indeed SP!
Peace.
Hey dad, look at me
Think back and talk to me
Did i grow up according to plan
Do you think i'm wasting my time
Doing things i wanna do
And it hurts when you disapprove all along
And now i try hard to make it
I just wanna make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you
Can't pretend that i'm alright
And you can't change me
Cause we lost it all
Nothing lasts forever
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect
Now it's just too late
And we can't go back
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect
I try not to think
About the pain i feel inside
Do you know you used to be my hero
All the days you spent with me
Now seem so far away
And it feels like you don't care anymore
And now i try hard to make it
I just wanna make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you
I can't stand another fight
And nothing's alright
Cause we lost it all
Nothing lasts forever
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect
Now it's just too late
And we can't go back
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect
Nothing's gonna change the things that you said
Nothing's gonna make this right again
Please don't turn your back
I can't believe it's hard just to talk to you
But you don't understand
Cause we lost it all
Nothing lasts forever
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect
Now it's just too late
And we can't go back
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect
Thank you, Simple Plan, for coming up with 'Perfect', a wonderful song that everyone can easily relate to. As i was typing all of this out, i could literally feel the emotion, all the sadness and pain of this song. Well done indeed SP!
Peace.
E-M-O
I don't why but recently, things have been really uptight for me and i guessed that triggered the emo and anguish side of me. I lose my temper almost all the time at home when someone tries to tell me to stop doing this, stop doing that or to try to be this and that. I don't do it intentionally, but somehow i just y'know lose myself and end up giving them a glare before running up to my room and locking myself in there until an hour passes. Yep my anger or whatever escalates real quick and thank God for that. Honestly, i really shouldn't be pissed at how they are. I mean it's obviously my fault that i got such horrid results and they're just trying to help me get back on the right track, but i don't know, i just lose it.
And sometimes when i'm really down and need my own personal space to crawl into, i don't because i don't actually have a place like that. Technically, 'my room' is also three other people's 'my room'. So at times when it's a thunderstorm in there, someone from the family would just casually waltz in without knowing anything and when they realize something is wrong they're all '"what's your problem?'". MY PROBLEM IS THAT I'M TRYING TO HAVE A MELTDOWN IN PEACE BUT I CAN'T BECAUSE PEOPLE'S FACES KEEP POPPING UP EVERY 3 SECONDS.
I've tried locking the door, and oh, the good it does. *knock knock* "eh val open the door. why did you lock it? how many times do i have to tell you that as long as you're in my house, there will be no locked doors" and then i try to clean up the flood i had caused in the room before unlocking the door *knocks again* "what are you doing inside?" i reply "wait!" and they say "what's wrong with you again". Of course, the conversations are all in Mandarin. So, yeah. I don't have my alone space, i can't lock the door unless it's the toilet. Guess i'll be hitting the loo quite often from now on eh?
The thing is, they do know that i'm not exactly in the happiest of all moods then and yet they still choose to yap at me and then do what adults do best, walking away. They might ask you every now and then "what's up" but it's more of a statement than a question. They say it and then forget it. They choose to talk about what kind of person i should be rather than trying to understand what kind of person i actually am. They don't bother thinking about what i have to go through, all they think about is what they're going through in order turn me into this made-believe child who satisfies all their standards and shit. I excel in something, they're not happy about it because it's not the something that they want me to excel in.
Well i'm sorry i'm not the daughter or granddaughter that you planned to have. I'm sorry i don't have hair that's all nice and neat 24/7. I'm sorry i'm not as feminine as all my girl friends. I'm sorry i like tee shirts and baggy shorts. I'm sorry i dislike eggs. I'm sorry i can't cook. I'm sorry i didn't score enough A's. I'm sorry for being active in my uniform body. I'm sorry i decided to drop chinese and take up accounts. I'm sorry i didn't turn up to be the a national player for the badminton team. I'm sorry i can't be more like he or she or them. I'm sorry i'm so useless. I'm sorry that i'm trying my best to cope with all this. I'm sorry you're not satisfied with what i have.
I'm sorry for not being able to become your idea of perfection.
I'm sorry, but that still doesn't make you understand me, does it?
And sometimes when i'm really down and need my own personal space to crawl into, i don't because i don't actually have a place like that. Technically, 'my room' is also three other people's 'my room'. So at times when it's a thunderstorm in there, someone from the family would just casually waltz in without knowing anything and when they realize something is wrong they're all '"what's your problem?'". MY PROBLEM IS THAT I'M TRYING TO HAVE A MELTDOWN IN PEACE BUT I CAN'T BECAUSE PEOPLE'S FACES KEEP POPPING UP EVERY 3 SECONDS.
I've tried locking the door, and oh, the good it does. *knock knock* "eh val open the door. why did you lock it? how many times do i have to tell you that as long as you're in my house, there will be no locked doors" and then i try to clean up the flood i had caused in the room before unlocking the door *knocks again* "what are you doing inside?" i reply "wait!" and they say "what's wrong with you again". Of course, the conversations are all in Mandarin. So, yeah. I don't have my alone space, i can't lock the door unless it's the toilet. Guess i'll be hitting the loo quite often from now on eh?
The thing is, they do know that i'm not exactly in the happiest of all moods then and yet they still choose to yap at me and then do what adults do best, walking away. They might ask you every now and then "what's up" but it's more of a statement than a question. They say it and then forget it. They choose to talk about what kind of person i should be rather than trying to understand what kind of person i actually am. They don't bother thinking about what i have to go through, all they think about is what they're going through in order turn me into this made-believe child who satisfies all their standards and shit. I excel in something, they're not happy about it because it's not the something that they want me to excel in.
Well i'm sorry i'm not the daughter or granddaughter that you planned to have. I'm sorry i don't have hair that's all nice and neat 24/7. I'm sorry i'm not as feminine as all my girl friends. I'm sorry i like tee shirts and baggy shorts. I'm sorry i dislike eggs. I'm sorry i can't cook. I'm sorry i didn't score enough A's. I'm sorry for being active in my uniform body. I'm sorry i decided to drop chinese and take up accounts. I'm sorry i didn't turn up to be the a national player for the badminton team. I'm sorry i can't be more like he or she or them. I'm sorry i'm so useless. I'm sorry that i'm trying my best to cope with all this. I'm sorry you're not satisfied with what i have.
I'm sorry for not being able to become your idea of perfection.
I'm sorry, but that still doesn't make you understand me, does it?
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