Mistletoe, Carols & A Closing Chapter

so i've been avoiding the internet at every chance i get.
i only log on to facebook with my mobile,
which means viewing news feed would be quite a hassle,
thus i won't bother.
i haven't seen my profile for about a week or so,
therefore i have no clue who has been walling me.
so i wouldn't have to bother to reply.
so basically i've only been posting birthday wishes,
and checking my inbox for important stuff.
i'm proud to declare that i wouldn't keel over if FB was banned!
which i think is fucking ridiculous for the gov to do nevertheless.
so what am i avoiding?
i don't know.
actually, there are a couple of reasons...
but i can't seem to pin point which is the ultimate one.
basically i'm just tired of feeling bitter about
1. not studying where i wanna study

2. not having to chance to travel (which i would if i'm studying where i'm suppose to study)
3. missing people (like a one way street) & ruining Christmas
4. being constantly reminded of things i wanna forget.

so i guess the best way is to run away?
that's always the easiest thing to do at times like this.
the question is: how far can you run? or how long can you keep at it?
so by avoiding Facebook & all the pointless dwelling,
i get to focus on what's special here...
family & friends (who are still around)
i've been home most of the time lately...
burying myself in Christmas preparations.
Christmas shopping with dearest Nutty.
Getting all the gifts wrapped...
Searching for Christmas recipes...
Grocery shopping! (feeling like a kid in a candy store)
and soon i'll be trying to meet up with friends i haven't seen in months.
really, all these beats feeling bitter about losses.
i'm trying to let go of losses, and focusing on what i have in my hands.
family who will always be here, through thick & thin.
friends who would never forget to just say "Hi, Good morning!"
or even a short annoying "Hi." & "whassssuuuuuppp?"
just to let you know they're here & they've got your back.
i guess that matters the most.
people tend to take tiny things like these for granted.
and i'm GUILTY AS CHARGED.

i just wanna end my year with a less bitter note (if not bitter AT ALL)
tonight's long conversation with Jean made me realise alot.
through all the pain & sadness & disappointments & unexpected losses,
we need to love ourselves enough to pull through...
to remind ourselves we deserve better...
to convince ourselves the worst is over...
to console ourselves that there's a better tomorrow!
because dwelling in bitterness would just harm us more.
i fear myself the most, my own thoughts scare me.
so i guess to overcome that fear, i gotta love myself.
love myself enough to trust my own thoughts.
love myself enough to know i can pull through on my own.
that i don't need anyone but myself.

so, here's a note (& a gentle reminder) for Jean
you will never be alone, as long as you have yourself in mind.
you are your own friend. your rock & your shelter.
have faith in yourself, and no one can ever fail you :)
when times are rough, and friends just don't seem to be enough,
be there for yourself & you can expect no disappointments.
you are your own expectation.
of course, don't forget that lots of people love & support you no matter what.
xoxo

i know it's much easier said than done...
as i'm constructing my "speech",
i find it hard to believe & live by it.
so i'm learning and trying.
who needs self motivation courses & books
when you can psych yourself right?
therefore, my Christmas gift to myself is
TO STOP DWELLING IN BITTERNESS.
i've done enough damage to myself already.
let's just open our eyes to things that make us happy.
like right now, having the (unusual) ability to stay till four in the morning for the past few nights (for me) to watch StarWorld (which is FEMINIZED beyond words, if i may say)
anyhoo... i'm declaring this (as silly as it ALL may sound) here,
because i know WITH ALL MY GUT, along the way i would stumble.
and all this will sound FUCKING RIDICULOUS to me.
like i'm on drugs, or been too HIGH in cheers from watching Oprah.
albeit all the crazy thoughts, this post will mean something
and this will be a gentle reminder to me...
that i (the most cynical person i know) have been optimistic once.
IT MUST THE THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT! haha.
or the fact that i'm turning 20 soon..
& i don't wanna be a bitter 20 year old LADY xD
goodbye crazy teen years, hello mundane responsibilities!
still think i'm a crazy psycho person for trying to convince myself?
i'll be prancing around like a hippy flowerchild with happy thoughts,
as the whole lot of you drown in bitter reality of the big TWO OH!
COME JOIN ME! *hocus pocus*
WAIT. i need to say that this doesn't mean i'm stripping off my cynical side.
oh, it'll be here alright, forever & never leave...
but i'll make sure the sunny side will shine brighter than the other.
for all that's worth :D

okay, enough of the self medication bullshit that i've been rattling on for the past, idk how long you've spent reading this, but yeah :B
Merry Christmas in advance!
And may the Christmas spirit bring you exceptional joy & unexpected gifts!
HoHo!

with love,
stephay aka crazy psycho bitch

as the new year approaches...

i'm really compelled to say this:-
you are no longer the person i once knew
you have become a total stranger
i'm starting to lose the respect bit by bit
and somehow i'm starting to care less and less
because you have become foreign
and i start questioning myself...
did i really know you in the first place?
perhaps not...
people change
people come and go
and lately 2 have done that
the ones that i least expected
life's the way it is...

--published using mobile web

That Casting Shade

Here I stand beautifully;
albeit my solemn background.

Declaration for a hiatus did not work after all.
The impulse to reach out is far too great.
Perhaps deep down I know, I'll never turn back.
And the hiatus will never come to an end.

So, I've finally psychoed DaddyDearest into putting the Christmas tree up.
Ever since we got the dog, he's been an annoying old sport.
Okay, perhaps an old fart would be far more accurate...
But that would be really crude :p
Maybe it's the whole "mid-life" crisis catching up on him.
He's been such a clean freak lately, it's infuriating.
Taking it out on the poor puppy, who can't really help but shed.
That dopey looking thing is just defenseless!
Although she does shed like a snowstorm in December...
Anyhoo, back to the whole Christmas tree "hoo haa".
Mr.Spotless has been (extremely) reluctant to put up the tree.
Just because he thinks the house would be in further mess,
and the dog would pee on it... (note: it's a bitch.)
Since April (the bitch) has been humping like any unneutered stud would...
He's somehow convinced that she would prolly take up the territorial act as well.
I'm pretty sure it was a COMPLETE excuse to debate with me.
Along with other reasons such as dust collecting, shedding glitters (accumulated with fur = Apocalypse Now in his world), dog chewing on ornaments, dog chewing on tree, dog pushing the tree over, dog chewing on light bulbs, dog this and that...
Basically, he's blaming the existence of the DOG.
He's just not used to that four-legged creature all up in his space.
And I ain't backing down on that. I like it that way :p

Well, I made a huge fuss about it.
I mean, come on, it's Christmas.
When it comes to the tree, no negotiation.
I don't attend church service anymore,
so that's the closest to Christmas I can get.
Without a tree, it wouldn't feel like Christmas to me.
And Christmas is a HUGE DEAL! For me at least...
It's my favorite season of the year :)
So, I threw a tantrum, like an annoying 3-year-old would.
"FINE! No tree, no Christmas, I might as well not celebrate it. I won't be getting presents then. Cancel the Christmas eve dinner. What's the point? FINE!" *pout pout pout*
He gave in.
I have come to a conclusion.
The only way for me to get to him,
is to act like the little girl, that he has missed so much.
All that pointless mature act should be out the door!
Christmas, once again, made me feel like a kid again.
In every way possible.
But I guess my dad would be the last person to complain :p
Maybe next time when I'm heading out at night, and he protests,
this newly discovered secret "weapon" should come in handy :D

I need to go Chirstmas shopping, ASAP!
I've only bought presents for the two annoying pipsqueaks.
And another a custom made gift, on it's long journey,
oh I hope it arrives soon, if ever.
The boyf's present is only 10% complete.
Yes, I've settled for a handmade gift again, because idk what to get.
Google gave me plenty of unaffordable results that gave me a tiny cardiac arrest, and a funny constricting feeling down my pocket.
Not that I'm frugal or anything like that, but seriously...
I'm barely surviving since I have four other people to buy for.
*butterflies fluttering out of purse*
So I shall throw my unartistic self into an unusual world of coloured papers & scissors.
Really, for a girl, I suck at art so bad, it's mortifying xD
But thankfully, most of my efforts do not bawl eyes, which is a great success :D

12 days to Christmas!
I'm excited.
It'll be different, and quieter no doubt.
But hey, it's Christmas.
Don't let the spirit die down.

On another note...
Happy 1year & 7months :)
Wow, time really does fly eh?
As the clock ticks, it gets tougher.
Spending time apart feels like swimming in the middle of the ocean.
Exciting at first, as the adrenaline kicks in...
Eventually it just feels like a fight for survival.
As exhaustion washes through, the anticipation of sinking sets in.
I want to stay afloat, with you.
But I want you to know...
It ain't easy.
It really isn't.

Odds & Ends

I feel like I need a hiatus.
From the internet...
& from the real world.

Will I be able to pull that off?
I've been trying to isolate myself all day.
Ain't working out very well.

Just wanna be left alone.

--published using mobile web

Something Worth Knowing

Clubbing was odd last night.
Not a good idea to club with guys whom you are close to.
It's bound to get awkward...
And, I hate hate hate people who get drunk in clubs.
Okay, even if you wanna get drunk...
please oh please DON'T do it before 1am.
It's obnoxious. And shows how much of a NOOB you are -.-
Like, hello! Know your limits & save yourself the embarrassment.
Got bumped & hit in the face by a drunk friend of a friend.
DOUCHE BAG!
I've had my days of babysitting drunktards,
& I've sworn that that's gonna be the last of it.
So, piss off if you're anywhere near keeling over!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anyhoo...
Been reading Eat, Pray, Love for the past few nights.
I'm only on Chapter 18, and I'm HOOKED!
No, it's not for menopausal women!
Like what Bryan says -.- Note: Bryan's a douche!
It really helps people who have gone through depression,
understand better that they're not alone...
And it's not uncommon. AND it can happen to ANYONE.
I've been through those dark days during my early teens,
still facing occasional (if not rare) dark episodes till today,
and reading this memoir is like the first step to closure.

So here's my favorite chapter so far...

Italy
or
'Say It Like You Eat It'
or
Thirty-six tales About the Pursuit of Pleasure

17

I'd stopped taking my medication only a few days earlier. It had just seemed crazy to be taking antidepressants in Italy. How could I be depressed here?
I'd never wanted to be on the medication in the first place. I'd fought taking it for so long, mainly because of a long list of personal objections (e.g.: Americans are overmedicated; we don't know the long-term effects of this stuff yet on the human brain; it's a crime that even American children are on antidepressants these days; we are treating the symptoms and not the causes of a national mental health emergency...). Still, during the last few years of my life, the was no question that I was in grave trouble and that this drama with David evolved, I'd come to have the symptoms of a major depression - loss of sleep, appetite and libido, uncontrollable weeping, chronic backaches and stomachaches, alienation and despair, trouble concentrating on work, inability to even get upset that the Republicans had just stolen a presidential election... it went on and on.
When you're lost in those woods, it sometimes take you a while to realize you are lost. For the longest time, you can convince yourself that you've just wandered a few feet off the path, that you'll find your way back to the trailhead any moment now. Then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are, and it's time to admit that you have bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don't even know from which direction the sun rises anymore.
I took on my depression like it was the fight of my life, which, of course, it was. I became a student of my own depressed experience, trying to unthread its causes. What was the root of all this despair? Was it psychological? (Mom and Dad's fault?) Was it just temporal, a "bad time" in my life? (when the divorce ends, will the depression end with it?) Was it genetic? (Melancholy, called by many names, run through my family for generations, along with its sad bride, Alcoholism.) Was it cultural? (Is this just the fallout of a post-feminist American career girl trying to find balance in an increasingly stressful alienated urban world?) Was it astrological? (Am I so sad because I'm a thin-skinned Cancer whose major signs are all ruled by unstable Gemini?) Was it artistic? (Don't creative people always suffer from depression because we're so supersensitive and special?) Was it evolutionary? (Do I carry in me the residual panic that comes after millennia of my species' attempting to survive a brutal world?) Was it karmic? (All these spasms of grief just the consequences of bad behavior in previous lifetimes, in last obstacles before liberation?) Was it hormonal? Dietary? Philosophical? Seasonal? Environmental? Was I tapping into a universal yearning for God? Did I have a chemical imbalance? Or did I just need to get laid?
What a large number of factors constitute a single human being! How very many layers we operate on, on how very many influences we receive from our minds, our bodies, our histories, our families, our cities, our souls and our lunches! I came to feel that my depression was probably some ever-shifting assortment of all those factors, and probably also included some stuff I couldn't name or claim. So I faced the fight at every level. I bought all those embarrassingly titled self-help books (always being certain to wrap up the books in the latest issue of Hustler, so that strangers wouldn't know what I was really reading). I commenced to getting professional help with a therapist who was as kind as she was insightful. I prayed like a novice nun. I stopped eating meat (for a short time, anyway) after someone told me that I was "eating the fear of the animal at the moment of its death." Some spacey new age massage therapist told me I should wear orange-colored panties, to rebalance my sexual chakras, and, brother - I actually did it. I drank enough of that damn Saint-John's-wort tea to cheep up whole a Russian gulag, to no noticeable effect. I exercised. I exposed myself to the uplifting arts and carefully protected myself from sad movies, books and songs (if anyone even mentioned the words of Leonard and Cohen in the same sentence, I would have to leave the room).
I tried so hard to fight the endless sobbing. I remember asking myself one night, while I was curled up in the same old corner of my same old couch in tears yet again over the same repetition of sorrowful thoughts, "Is there anything about this scene you can change, Liz?" And all I could think to do was to stand up, while still sobbing, and try to balance on one foot in the middle of my living room. Just to prove that - while I couldn't stop the tears or change my dismal interior dialogue - I was not yet totally out of control: at least I could cry hysterically while balanced on one foot. Hey, it was a start.
I crossed the street to walk in the sunshine. I leaned on my support network, cherishing my family and cultivating my most enlightening friendships. And when those officious women's magazines kept telling me that my low self-esteem wasn't helping depression matters at all, I got myself a pretty haircut, bought some fancy makeup and a nice dress. (When a friend complimented my new look, all I could say, grimly was, "Operation Self-Esteem - Day Fucking One.")
The last thing I tried, after about two years of fighting this sorrow, was medication. If I may impose my opinions here, I think it should always be the last thing you try. For me, the decision to go to the route of "Vitamin P" happened after a night when I'd sat on the floor of my bedroom for many hours, trying very hard to talk myself out of cutting into my arm with a kitchen knife. I won the argument against the knife that night, but barely. I had some other good ideas around that time - about how jumping off a building or blowing my brains out with a gun might stop the suffering. But something about spending a night with a knife in my hand did it.
The next morning I called my friend Susan as the sun came up, begged her to help me. I don't think a woman in the whole history of my family had ever done that before, had even sat down in the middle of the road like that and said, in the middle of her life, "I cannot walk another step further - somebody has to help me." It wouldn't have served those women to have stopped walking. Nobody would have, or could have, helped them. The only thing that would've happened was that they and their families would have starved. I couldn't stop thinking about those women.
And I will never forget Susan's face when she rushed into my apartment about an hour after my emergency phone call and saw me in a heap on the couch. The image of my pain mirrored back at me through her visible fear of my life is still one of the scariest memories for me out of all those scary years. I huddled in a ball while Susan made the phone calls and found me a psychiatrist who would give me a consultation that very day, to discuss the possibility of prescribing antidepressants. I listened to Susan's one-sided conversation with the doctor, listened to her say, "I'm afraid my friend is going to seriously hurt herself." I was afraid, too.
When I went to see the psychiatrist that afternoon, he asked me what had taken me so long to get help - as if I hadn't been trying to help myself already for so long. I told him my objections and reservations about antidepressants. I laid copies of the three books I'd already published on his desk, and I said, "I'm a writer. Please don't do anything to harm my brain." He said, "If you had a kidney disease, you wouldn't hesitate to take medication for it - why are you hesitating with this?" But, see, that shows how ignorant he was about my family; a Gilbert might very well not medicate a kidney disease, seeing that we're a family who regard any sickness as a sign of personal, ethical, moral failure.
He put me on a few different drugs - Xanax, Zoloft, Wellbutrin, Busperin - until we found the combination that didn't make me nauseated or turn my libido into a dim and distant memory. Quickly, in less than a week, I could feel an extra inch of daylight opening in my mind. Also, I could finally sleep. And this was a real gift because when you cannot sleep, you cannot get yourself out of the ditch - there's no chance. The pills gave me those recuperative night hours back, and also stopped my chest and the panic alert button from inside my heart.
Still, I never relaxed into taking those drugs, although they helped immediately. It never mattered who told me these medications were a good idea and perfectly safe; I always felt conflicted about it. Those drugs were part of my bridge to the other side, there's no question about it, but I wanted to be off them as soon as possible. I'd started taking the medication is January 2003. By May, I was already diminishing my dosage significantly. Those had been the toughest months, anyhow - the last months of the divorce, the last ragged months with David. Could I have endured the time without the drugs, if I'd just held out a little longer? That's the thing about human life - there's no control group, no way to ever know how any of us would have turned out if any variables had been changed.
I do know these drugs made my misery feel less catastrophic. So I'm grateful for that. But I'm still deeply ambivalent about mood-altering medications. I'm awed by their power, but concerned by their prevalence. I think they need to be prescribed and used with much more restraint in this country, and never without the parallel treatment of psychological counseling. Medicating the symptom of any illness without exploring its root cause is just a classically hare-brained Western way to think that anyone could ever get truly better. Those pills might have saved my life, but they did so only in conjunction with about twenty other efforts I was making simultaneously during that same period to rescue myself, and I hope to never have to take such drugs again. Though one doctor did suggest that I might have to go on and off antidepressants many time sin my life because of my "tendency toward melancholy." I hope to God he's wrong. I intend to do everything I can to prove him wrong, or at least to fight that melancholic tendency with every tool in the shed. Whether this makes me self-defeatingly stubborn, pr self-preservingly stubborn, I cannot say.
But there I am.

[Excerpt from Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert; Bloomsbury 2007]

Yes. I typed out the whole chapter.
Because I feel it's worth every single word.
(I hope I won't be accused of copyright infringement)
I don't think a little quotation from here and there would help.
Every part of this chapter is equally important to be pointed out.
And I hope that this would encourage people to buy,
and read the rest of her memoir.
It's amazing. The way she writes is just... DEAD HONEST!
It takes a lot of courage to reveal everything to the world through a book.
Her vulnerability and her darkest hour.
This particular chapter made me tear a lot.
That's mainly because the countless answers that I'm been searching for,
for many years now, were finally found.
In the most peculiar indirect way.
If her words can help a person like me,
an insignificant tiny winy drop of splotch in this world,
can you imagine how many women's lives can be changed.
Or even relieved at the very least.
No wonder she sold over 10 million copies worldwide!

I'm not even halfway through the book, and I'm beyond amazed.
Will definitely share more quotes that stand out to me.
But there is no way to really feel what she's trying to say,
if you don't read the book, really...
And NO, once again, it's not only for menopausal women!
And it's not a self-help material.
Just the story of a really honest woman with the biggest courage (in a realistic world)!

Brown Pages Therapy

Had a rough episode last night.

Missed everyone so dearly...

Totally teared when I was on the phone with the boyf.

He seriously triggered it :s

Was trying to hold the sorrow in, but HE had to dig it -.-

No doubt, I felt a lot better after.

And his soothing words really helped a lot.

"Whenever you feel sad, think about how each of them are working hard at achieving their future happiness, and in return, you'll feel happy for them as well. As long as you remember that you're always in their hearts, as they are in yours... Everyone will meet up again eventually, till then treasure those sweet memories."

Okay, it wasn't exactly like that WORD by WORD.

But the main content of what he said is definitely in there.

I would quote more, but I can't remember what else he said xD

Let's just say I was nagged at (very gently) for 30 mins for crying :x

I'm gonna have to avoid Facebook for the next few days.

Or at least only use my mobile version where it's really difficult to access to pictures.

They make me feel sappy & lonesome.

Everyone is either away, or busy with exams.

What horrible timing! Christmas is just around the corner :(

*SNAP OUT OF IT!*

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

We shall leave that as that, and not dwell in it any longer.

Or another sappy episode will lurch.

So, I consoled myself by splurging on BOOKS today!

Went to Big Bookshop @ Atria, where they sell dead cheap books!

Here's a list of what I bought:

1. Angels & Demons by Dan Brown

2. Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

Alright, I read them both already, but I really really wanna own them. I think those books are worth being kept in shelves & flipped occasionally for years to come.

And a whole load of CLASSICS!

3. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle

4. The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton

5. Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne

6. Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens

7. Tess of the D'Ubervilles by Thomas Hardy

8. Macbeth by William Shakespeare

9. Sense & Sensibility by Jane Austen

10. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

11. The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde

These I'm gonna keep for many many many years. And pass on to my children. And my children's children. And my children's children's children... You get what I mean :p

And one that I've been looking all over for, that's NOT a movie poster,

12. Capricornia by Xavier Herbert

That's 3 strikes off my list :D

The total bill came up to RM115.

SUCH A STEAL ISN'T IT?

Where on earth can you buy books at that kinda price?

If you know of a place, LET ME KNOW ASAP!

So, last night's episode : temporarily CURED! :D

And hopefully tonight is gonna anesthetize me for a week (or more)

Let's get INTOXICATED!

Reminisce

I miss all of you so badly right now.

Went through all the wall photos, Redang photos, graduation, etc...

It makes me sad.

I'm devastated actually, that you guys aren't here.

This year's Christmas is gonna be somewhat lonesome.

It'll not be complete, cause' everyone's missing.

All I want for Christmas this year is YOU, YOU AND YOU!

Even the boyfriend won't be around this year *wails!*

And it has just dawned upon me :(

*sobs*

I miss you guys so so so much.

Please come back!

Ah, another of this "episode" to go through :'(

To all of you out there, if you ever stumble upon this.

I MISS YOU GUYS, FROM THE DEEPEST BASE OF MY HEART!

Oh, please, Santa. Wrap them up in a red sack & send them down my chimney.

I'll have plenty of cookies & hot cocoa for you!

xoxo with love

I Need It Flaming

I did something (kinda) outrageous on a regular Monday.

No Monday blues for this week, thank you.

I painted it RED :D

Highlighted me virgin hair & had it deflowered xD

I was staring at the blue, but my mom was eying on me,

inches away from gnawing me off if I did.

And well, the hairstylist so convincingly said "You'll look good in red!"

So you know how we always feel inclined to believe what they say!

And I did. Am thrilled with the results!

Really wanted to dye everything, but decided not to give my dad a cardiac arrest.

Since I can't revamp my crazy wavy hair with any suitable hairstyle

that would even look a tad bit different than it is, and I can't have bangs.

So get it PAINTED :D

Dad's reaction was priceless nevertheless.

"You look PUNK..."

I didn't even know that was in his vocabulary xD

At least he didn't start off his nag rage.

Which means a victory on my side this time (Y)

Dad 921397642383219 : 1 Steph

Being a good girl that I (always) am, stayed home tonight.

Nah actually I was dead exhausted from this afternoon.

And saving a greenlight for Thursday night,

which I hope will turn out well cause all I feel is obligation for now.

Anyhoo... Last night's hangout got me wondering...

Have I really changed for the past 2 years?

Well, yeah, I do a couple of things that I sworn I wouldn't back then.

But, who doesn't really?

I don't get why everyone made such a big deal to see me doing something

that everyone else has done or is still doing it.
I mean, come on gimme a break here!

Pot kettle black, honey!

All that mouth gaping, eyes wide opened, stunned expressions,

hoohaas & "oh my god I don't believe it..."

Seemed like bullshit to me.

We're all human.

Don't give a preacher's speech & tell me that you've been living by it.

I'm sure as hell wouldn't believe.

Just like how you told me one thing in full vulnerability

and jumped on the opposite side of the road a day later.

Claiming all fine & dandy.

But I'll be picking up the pieces later.

And I'm suppose to sit by and let it all happen?

While I'm on the fence most of the time.

What am I to do, really?

There's only so much one could do to intervene.

No, I don't agree with it.

But I sure ain't necessarily right either way.

What's the "right" thing to do in situations like these?

I'm sorry but the most I can do right now is patching.

I can't be there for the prevention.

I can't be there as a wall or a shield or whatnots.

Because I'm pretty sure you won't let me.

So, here's my conclusion.

We're all masochistic hypocrites.

We say things, we wish we meant, and then blow it one way or another.

And in return hurt ourselves more than anyone else.

We say we're gonna take it out on the world,

as we do a 180 before breaking the walls of our pasts.

Inching towards further vulnerability.

And when we least expect it... BAM!

I guess we'll find out?

Okay.

The red hair has made me a crazier cynical bitch.

17 days to Christmas.

My favorite time of the year.

My checklist is out, and I'm half a tick done (hoorah!).

So which list are you on?

Naughty or nice?

I'm pretty sure that I'm on the "crazies" :D

-OUT-

It's Times Like These

"Despite a pool of red roses,
it requires green leaves
to accentuate its beauty.
Baby, you might be someone to the world,
But you're the world to someone..."

You always manage to put a smile on my face.
No matter how hard the day has been.
And you never seem to give up,
No matter how doubtful I always get....
I'm truly grateful to have you :)

Running In Circles

There are days when I feel like the whole world is crumbling,
and there are days when I scoff at myself for feeling so.

There are days when I holler "fuck the world",
and there are days when I shadow it upon myself.

There are days when I feel down & alone,
and there are days when I feel showered with love.

There are days when I wanna just cage up indoors,
and there are days when I'm dying to spring out.

There are days when I blast & dance to electro music,
and there are days when I drown myself in mellow music.

There are days when I feel like you're lacking of my expectations,
and there are days when I beat myself up for expecting too much.

There are days when I feel like I can do better,
and there are (most) days when I feel like you're the best I could ever wish for.

There are days when I feel nothing when you utter sweet words,
and there are days when they just fill my eyes with tears of joy.

Why can't the world be black & white for once?
Albeit how dull it will be, just for once, without all those chaos?
Without having to make a decision on HOW to feel.
On what's right & what's wrong.
On what's better for the other person.
On what's better for yourself.
Decisions, decisions...
Sometimes thinking about the consequences that might come after a decision,
can drive me up the wall, all the way to that darn ceiling.
Why do I even bother?
Why do I eat myself up for petty little things that I just shouldn't give a damn about.
And things that I'm supposed to give a damn about just slips off my mind...

Had extreme lack of sleep yesterday.
Spent the whole day out till 4pm,
after a mere 2 hours of sleep the night before.
The entire day felt like a limbo.
Had the constant urge of falling asleep,
but deep down I was excited because Bryan was back from Aussie.
Yet, I failed to gather the strength to be a tad bit enthusiastic.
Came back home from a good day, to a bad & rough night.
Getting a lot of attitude & bad vibes at home.
Maybe I was just too exhausted to notice the positive ones.
There was a moment when I wanna curl under the blanket,
call you & cry my heart out.
But somehow I knew, it would feel ridiculous the next day.
True enough, this morning I woke up, feeling like it never happened.
And it's a better day ahead.

So there are good & bad days.
Good ones that you wanna cherish & store in your little memory box.
Bad ones that you just wanna heal from & erase.
Which one affects you more by the end of the day?
If you asked me, I would say the bad ones.
Good ones are just appreciated, looked upon once in a while, and somehow chucked away.
Bad ones constantly haunt dreams, thoughts & decisions, consciously or unconsciously.
Is it human nature to remember the bad ones more vividly than the good ones.
Or are we, once again, masochistic creatures & like feeling that way :s
Heh. Masochistic. Lost count of how many times I've uttered that word in the past few days.

Today's the day when I rewind & replay whatever happened;
yesterday, the day before, the week before & months before.
Today's the day I feel foolish & silly about past thoughts.
Today I feel sane.
Today the world's black & white.
Today's a better day.
I wonder what tomorrow may hold...