after school nightmare

unseam — Sun, 13 Apr 2014 10:56:36 GMT

to me

unseam — Tue, 13 Aug 2013 16:04:06 GMT

hey, quit whining.
stop sitting in one place, refusing to move or to be moved.
get up and go. you know where you want to be.
there is hope. things arent over for you yet. you have so much more to live for, so do it.

you want to do that. you want to do this. so do it. shut up. sit down. do it. it's that simple, so don't clench your fists any longer.

you need friends. dont pretend that you can get through three years without one. the first step is hello. the second step is staying.

unseam — Sat, 10 Aug 2013 14:25:57 GMT

it's saturday night again.

my father's not home yet. my mother has gone to sleep after waiting for him for some time. i'm staying up to do my homework.

it'll be 12 or 1 when he finally comes. he'll be drunk. all his noise, he'll carry that into the house. he will slam the door. he will drop onto the chair to remove his shoes. he'll talk to me. he'll demand answers. he won't listen, but he'll make me listen to him for a good 15 minutes. i don't want to and i'll drown out whatever he's saying with the thought that i hate him. i hate him i hate him i hate him SHUT UP

my mother will wake up from the noise. she'll come out of the bedroom and squint at us from the hallway. what are you doing? my father will answer and i won't be looking at either of them because i'll be thinking, it's happening again. this is four weeks ago. this is two weeks ago. you're living those saturday midnights again. you literally know what happens next.

my father will begin to speak louder but what he says will make less sense than what he's been saying. my mother will be annoyed. they will both get angry eventually, and this spills over into an argument. my father will say unnecessary, hurtful things to my mother. my mother will not even show a hint of weakness, though. and she will tell him to take a shower, have dinner, and go to bed. he will tell her to shut up.

my sister will attempt to intervene while i watch helplessly, trying my best not to cry or scream. i'll curse myself for not acting like the older sister in this situation, curse myself for being so fucking useless. what's the point of getting angry when i can't do shit?

the fight will die down eventually, and my parents won't speak to each other. if i crying, my mother will come and comfort me and tell me not to. i will want her to go away because i don't deserve to cry, so i'll force the tears to stop. i'll pretend to be strong for her. i'll tell her i'm OK, so please go to sleep. good night.

my mother will return to the bedroom, and my father will come out to talk to my sister and i. your mother is this and that. can you believe this and that? he will dump his 13 years' worth of frustration on my sister and me, and all i will think is "shut up".

he'll go to sleep eventually, but his voice will still be ringing in my ears. when my sister isn't looking, i'll start crying again.

unseam — Tue, 06 Aug 2013 18:33:43 GMT

my life isn't that hard... i'll be okay.
(until this 8tracks mix ends)

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again

unseam — Sat, 03 Aug 2013 16:13:14 GMT

my father talked some shit again tonight. how intoxicated can you get until you die? my father is going to find out for us all.

i hate him.
i hate him
i hate him ihate him i hate him i hate him.

i don't want to do this anymore.

unseam — Sat, 03 Aug 2013 14:14:06 GMT

vector drawing all day

i forgot that it was Yasmin's birthday

i'm so full

and tired!

unseam — Fri, 02 Aug 2013 16:47:15 GMT

i know i said i would be going to bed BuT i am on it and im wide awake.. maybe ill rrad mango in a bit idk.

so. monday. on monday i was rushing to school after ""completing"" my half-assed pastel art piece, and when i reached the bus interchange, guess who got on the queue behind me. sewing partner.

mood ruined. day ruined. everything ruined bc i had to take a 1h bus ride w him. coincidentally, it started pouring the moment we got on the bus.

he was wearing such an ugly hat too, i didnt even ubderstand why. it didnt match his outfit at all so i assumed it was for practical reasons but it wasnt sunny either so...

we got off the bus at HIS usual stop (many stops past mine), and i thought we were going to wait for the next bus to take us to school, so i waited with tthe other students the stop. he marched (thats how he walks to me... to be exact its a cross between a march and a walk. its like hes unhappily stomping off all the time.??) right past me and the bus stop and walked ahead. i called his name (he ignored me) and i followed him (fuckig embarrassed that all the students saw me being ignored after waiting for a bus that i wasnt even going to take).

he was metres ahead and i was rushing and tired. i was so fucking pissed. i was swearing under my breath and most of it got csrried off by the strong winds that were blowing towards us. all i couls think about was how much i hated this guy and how much he annoyed me

i finally caught up with him at the traffic light and i asked him why he didnt takr the bus to school. he told me he had motion sickness and actually felt like puking right then. i thought how he couldve told me this on the bus or even at the bus stop instead of walkibg off withoit me so rudely.

i wanted si badly for him to start puking in the middle of the road.

we continued to walk as it started to drizzle. we walked faster but i kept my distanxe from him bc i wanted to glare at his back. that, and i didnt want peoplr to know wthat we knew each other.

i rly enjoy walks and i thought about how much i wouldve njoyed this one if i had veen alone.

being mad at him made me forget ny problems for a whike? and the accompanying gray skies calmed me dkkwn more.

i dont rememvr anything elseand im dozing off si iill go skrrp sg.

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unseam — Fri, 02 Aug 2013 16:15:39 GMT

Now that almost everyone is asleep and it's quiet enough, I can finally write this post.

This week has been the same level of shit as all the other school weeks.

I can't remember Monday much anymore because I put off writing about it for so long. All I remember is that I fell. I don't know which loser falls walking UP the stairs, and twice in a row, for that matter, but that's what happened to me as I was heading to my Design Fundamentals (ART) class. People saw, for sure, and it was so embarrassing, but I'm grateful that my classmates were already in class and I was the only one left behind.

Anyway, I found out about 15 minutes later that my toe was actually bleeding. The nail on the second toe of my left foot had actually come off and was hanging on the skin little. I started freaking out and tried to clean the blood with tissue. Most people (online and IRL) told me to remove the nail but I was too scared that it would hurt so I left it alone. When I got home that day I had asked my father what to do and all he did was say "How would I know?" and then blamed me for being so careless. I waited for my mother and she helped my cut the nail off. It turns out that my whole nail hadn't come off, and that there was another nail layer underneath, so all was OK.

Oh right. That morning I was already feeling like shit because I ended up getting the same grade (B+) as my sewing class partner (that guy I complained about in the last post). He's SHIT at cutting and he keeps messing up the sewing and I'm so so so sure my journal isn't as half-assed as his, so what gives? I wanted to take the picker and stab my arm.

After I fell, my Art lecturer talked about how some of us didn't finish our work on time and how that shouldn't be the case considering that that day was the deadline, even though whatever grades he would give us wouldn't be final.

Wait wait wait I'm messing up the days. I fell on TUESDAY.

On MONDAY, I got my sewing grade and then got lectured about deadlines in Art class, feeling super guilty. I had done my painting and 70% of my collage. My pastel work was about 40% done. If it were any other class I doubt I'd even care but it was Art, and I liked the class and my lecturer a lot, and this was the one time that I'd submitted my works when they were still quite incomplete even though I stayed up for three days to complete them. I really didn't want to give my lecturer a bad impression. He wasn't angry at all, but I still couldn't look him in the eye after that.

While waiting for my turn to get called for my works' critique, I went to the room next to my class. The whole studio is actually one long stretch divided by partitions, so all the separated my class from the next is a partition. I walked over and sat with my friend, Amirah. We talked and she made me laugh like she always did. (I always say that if you leave Amirah in a room by herself, she WILL entertain herself eventually. She's the kind of person who makes jokes so bad that you end up laughing because SHE'S laughing so hard.)

I tell her how much I envy her class because everyone seems nice to each other and so united. She tells me that it's true, they ARE nice to each other and it's more or less like a family. Meanwhile, I'm stuck in the same fucking divided class, the same kind I had been in the last 2 years of secondary school. The people are all the same, they're the same types of people, they say the same things, laugh about the same things. And it sucks. They suck. I briefly mentioned this while sitting close to the partition, where, on the other side, I was pretty sure my favourite group in my class was sitting. I didn't care if they heard me. They don't mean shit to me.

I actually made acquaintances with a few of her classmates (because that's how nice they were), and they were all lovely. And actually FUNNY, too. In my class, all they ever laugh about is some insensitive bullshit or something SO mundane that you wonder how they laugh so genuinely while you struggle to force a smile.

I had Digital Essentials class after that, and I got a good seat (far enough away from my favourite group, and where nobody I don't want looking at my screen will see it). The class is manageable so far and I see no problems with my lecturer, so I probably won't be writing about it much.

On TUESDAY, I had my critique. I apologized to my lecturer for not completing my work but it didn't matter to him as much as I'd thought it would. Either that or I didn't come off as genuine enough. Either way, I left dissatisfied. I was happy with his comments on my work though.

On WEDNESDAY... I can't remember a thing.

Yesterday sucked. I got grouped with that guy I can't stand who was my partner in sewing class for some presentation we have to do for Art. I'm grateful that it's a group work and not a pair work, but of all fucking groups, why MINE? My lecturer said he tried to group us based on who we hang out with as much as possible, but just seeing his fucking name on the paper gave me a headache and ruined my whole mood. I glared a lot and avoided THAT guy's gaze from across the room. All I wanted to was to leave the studio, but I didn't, so I sat through my lecturer's presentation on visual culture that only I seemed to be actually interested in. This dumb bitch in my class who is seated right at the front wasn't paying attention and was sketching in her sketchbook. Now I don't give a fuck about that, except that her stupid hat was blocking the screen and I just wanted to scream at her and burn the stupid thing.

You know how these kind of presentations go, anyway. When the nude paintings come up, you hear the stupid comments. You wait a little longer and those stupid comments evolve into stupid conversations. Everyone in the room is 5 years old.

After the lecture, I asked my lecturer for the notes because he had left out the art history part which he thought was too dry and would make us fall asleep instead. He told me he'd email them to me.

On the way home that day, I got a call from Yasmin. She asked if we could have dinner together. It was a really long conversation and we eventually agreed on the KFC near her house (even though I didn't really want to go). What happens next is all my fault, and I accept that. I still blamed every other thing I could blame it on at the time, though. When I reach Woodlands it was already 7ish. I waited for the bus to her house for at least 20 minutes. I was fucking pissed because I didn't want to reach home any later than 8, and right then it seemed highly likely. I got on the damn bus anyway. It was dark and I couldn't really see the neighbourhood outside, so what the hell was I doing? I've only been to her place once. I was going to get off the wrong damn bus stop and be lost, and get home even later. I wanted to get off but I stayed for three bus stops. Whenever the bell rang during these three bus stops, though, an extremely loud and prolonged beep rang throughout the bus. The bell was malfunctioning, and that was enough to drive me out of the bus at the next stop.

So I was standing at some bus stop carrying all my SHIT, not even sure how to go back, but I walk anyway. I started to sweat in my long-sleeved dress, and my cramps were killing me. I started to panic because I couldn't see the train station anywhere. I called my sister and she didn't help because she couldn't. She said "Call Yasmin" but I couldn't because I know she would tell me to wait for the bus at the opposite bus stop, and it takes so fucking long to get anything from her. I couldn't call anyone else. All I wanted was to cry to them that I'm lost and scream at them to come save me. I was lost and I had nobody to call.

By the time I asked a stranger for directions, I was close to tears. He gave me the same advice Yasmin would've given me, but now that I knew which direction the train station was, I walked anyway. I kept panting the way people do before they start crying, but I told myself that I wasn't going to cry there.

I reached the station after walking for 10 minutes.

That night I cried to myself in the kitchen because I was stuck in the same place that I had been before any of that night had happened. What am I grateful that I got home for? I'm stuck with the same father, the same classmates, the same life, the same problems. The same thoughts. The same unhappiness. I would've gone on and on but my father would be coming out of the bath any minute then, and my sister was coming out of our room. So I stopped.

Today was the nicest to me. At the bus stop I saw a cute guy and I might have been hallucinating but I THINK he was glancing back at me, too, even though the buses were coming from the other direction. He was probably just paranoid that I was looking at him even though I was actually looking at the buses. We got on the same bus and I went to sit all the way at the back, while he sat in front of me, just a seat away. I looked out of the window the whole time because I was too afraid to get caught staring at him, but I did notice him looking toward the back of the bus a couple of times, in my direction, which, again, was weird because... I mean what do you look at the back of the bus for...? When I was I getting off the bus at the stop in front of my school, I walked past his seat and he got up from his seat the instant that I did and walked behind me. I quickly got off the bus and walked ahead to try and shake him off. Eventually I saw that he walked into the school beside the design school and I thanked god that he wasn't another pretentious design student, even though I'll probably never see him again. I was so happy that it put me in a relatively good mood for the rest of the day!

I was a minute or two late for class because I had to photocopy my certificates to put into my portfolio that was to be submitted in the same class, but my lecturer still let me sign my attendance anyway. Most of my class was already seated, and since there wasn't any empty chair for me to sit with my usual group, I sat alone at the front and waited for my turn for my portfolio to be reviewed. I was in such a good mood that I was more confident than usual and I actually didn't feel self-conscious at all as I walked into class late and sat at the front. I didn't care at all, and it was like a whole weight was lifted off my shoulders. After the one-hour class, my lecturer had to bring us to the library for a National Education talk. We were already late and needed to hurry, though. My lecturer set off so quickly and I followed him alone, and when he turned around he was surprised that there was only me and he asked me where my other classmates were. I told him they were walking (duh). (In my class, nobody shows any sense of urgency for ANYTHING, which is why I like to walk to the bus stop in front of my school alone. My group of classmates can miss four buses within the extra time they take to get to the bus stop.)

So he took the time to talk to me. He's my class's Care Person after all, so he asked me how my assignments were going. I told him everything was manageable and I could handle the stress. Then he said that he noticed that I'd been really quiet in class and he asked me about my friends in school. I told him I had none, basically. I told him how I thought the group of classmates I linger around are really, really kind and nice, but I just know I won't be as close as I want to with any of them, or anybody in my class, for that matter. They all either suck or already have somebody (I didn't tell him this, of course). So he says that I have to open up and get to know more people. I say yeah, yeah.

As we're reaching the library he asks me if I have any problems with my classmates, and I say no. He asks me if there are problems at home. I tell him that my parents recently fought and it was quite bad. I try my best not to start crying at the entrance of the library, because the tears were already surfacing and my classmates were catching up. He said that these things will happen and a bunch of other things I don't remember because I was trying to keep my tears from spilling (I'm thinking, Not again not again not again oh god no.) He ends off with a reminder that I can talk to him at any time and I nod it off and smile. I was grateful enough that one person in the whole damn school knows what I'm going through, and that's I really need.

The NE talk was about terrorism and I was so grateful that I didn't hear any racist remarks about either of my races. That doesn't mean that people weren't saying it though, because my class was grouped with three others and there were so many freshmen in one room that it was hard to actually hear anything at all.

After the talk, I went to visit my previous module's (Textiles) lecturer for my marks. I did quite well and she was happy with my work, but what really touched me was that at the end, she said that I was a joy to teach. I smiled at her and said thank you, and I was just so happy that I made her happy. The class was unfair to her and never really paid much attention. It's not that I want them to be crazy attentive or anything... it's just that I feel that we should show our lecturers a decent amount of respect, and like not come to class late after the break that they didn't even have to GIVE YOU, or make them extend the deadline of an assignment that you had two extra weeks to work on.

That's exactly how most of my other classmates were (and still are in our new modules). They eat in class, talk when our lecturer is talking, SLEEP in class, shop online when our lecturer is giving instructions. And they have the nerve to ask a question that our lecturer literally just gave the answer to. It's so frustrating and very different from the classroom environment that I'm used to and have taken for granted for years since primary school. Sometimes it drives me so mad.

After my consultation, I left school alone and went to the regional library. I re-read Fight Club for a few minutes before looking for books to borrow. I found Life of Pi first, then went to the computer to search the catalogue for Murakami. The system told me that there was one book available but I couldn't find it the first time I looked, so I went to look again. I felt like an idiot when I saw two different Murakami books on the shelf, untouched. I'd checked that section so many times before but had somehow managed to miss them for so long? I was happy enough that I'd found them, though. I checked the books out and carried them all in my arms, along with my giant ring folder and portfolio. Heavy baggage.

Even though my hands were almost full, I got myself some apple juice because it was such a pleasant afternoon. I was so happy. The bus ride home was peaceful. When I got off at Woodlands, I went to the nearest shopping mall and had lunch at the food court alone. I didn't feel embarrassed or anything, just hungry.

(I was pissed about the stares though. Each time the fasting period comes around, I get wary of the stares I receive as I drink or eat in public because people assume that I'm a Malay Muslim and a bad one at that because I'm not fasting. Strangers look down on me because of these assumptions. Sometimes I just went to carry a huge sign that says "HINDU" and shove it in their faces.)

When I got home, I stared at my face for a very long time while lazing on the couch.

Well... I just remembered more about Monday, but I'll write about it tomorrow because it's getting late and I'm tired.

unseam — Fri, 26 Jul 2013 14:53:43 GMT

I want my mother. She's probably on her way back from work, on a train somewhere. She's probably playing Candy Crush. I'm exhausted but I'm staying up to watch Titans with Pearl later and to wait for my mother. The whole time I was in school today, all I wanted was for her to hug me and tell me that I'm doing fine, and that I CAN do it.

Each time I pricked my fingers today, I thought about just running the whole needle through the length of my arm. I wanted to stab my damn eyes.

I felt like an idiot each time my sewing partner asked me something, and stopped listening once I answered him. I don't care if it was maybe because he couldn't hear me. There were other people in the room and I felt like an idiot and a loser. Sometimes, when I'm talking to him and he gets frustrated with his sewing, he cuts me off mid-sentence to exclaim Fuck! or Shit! and he never apologizes for cutting me off or even asking me to continue (when HE asked me to talk in the first place). I'm left with my mouth slightly open and with all the remaining words stuck in my throat, and I just want to scream at him. Just stop talking to me just stop talking to me JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE

The circle of classmates I hang out with (but I wouldn't really call friends) are constantly communicating in Chinese and the one Indian-Eurasian girl in the group actually understands them, so I'm literally at a loss most of the time. When we walk together I wonder what the fuck am I doing in this school with all these people. What did I want to do in the first place? Do I even care about my future, my career, my INTERESTS, anything at all, anymore? What am I doing

For the first time in a while, I teared up on the bus back home again today. The last time this happened was on the week after that fight between my parents. That whole week, I struggled so hard to choke back my tears on the bus ride from school to the bus interchange. (I think a stranger sitting beside me during one of those bus rides actually caught me even though I was looking determinedly out the window, but thankfully it was an adult and not a student from my school.) Most of the students fill the back and the front of the bus and all I will hear is talk and talk and talk (all the same) before, finally, the roar of laughter arrives and I'm swallowing really hard and swearing at myself for fuck's sake you're not going to cry in public in front of all these people who are going to think that you're just a silly, stupid teenage girl who broke up with her boyfriend. I don't know why I teared up today. I mean, I know why. It's a whole list of reasons, but I don't know which was the biggest one.

I met Yasmin at the train station by chance today. I thought it was miracle that I had been thinking about her just a few moments before she grabbed my arm from the back, scaring the hell out of me. I wanted to cry or scream or hug her (but we were already shrieking and people were staring). This day could have ended just like all the others so far. I was so happy that I decided I didn't care how angry my parents would get at me for eating out so late. I don't know if anyone would believe it, but the only time I smile and laugh each week is when I go to school with Amirah (which, for this month, I only got to do on Mondays and Wednesdays) or when we go back home together (only twice this month). I didn't get to see her today at all, so when I was with Yasmin I actually laughed and smiled for the first time the whole day. I really, really love my friends. They mean more than they will ever understand to me.

I love my sister a lot too, but I'm leaving this paragraph for another day.

Maybe it's because I'm tired, or because I'm tearing up a little, or because my music is pounding in my ears, or because of something else, but this post has been the most unsatisfying on the write so far. I don't think I made any sense and I can't seem to correct my sentences right now because they just don't make it back into my head. I'm leaving everything here first and maybe later when I'm not so distracted I'll fix this post.

My mother still isn't home.

unseam — Mon, 15 Jul 2013 12:42:26 GMT

I am on the bus back home from school and I have a headache. It came some time after sewing class I think, and this is the third time this has happened to me this month. Maybe my head cannot handle the change in focus from minute, specific details during sewing class to bigger lines and shapes in art class.

There was this semi-cute guy who sort of looked like Yusuke at the bus stop and he got on the same bus as me. He got off a few stops ago, though. I guess cute guys really don't stay in the north of this country. Honestly, I don't know for sure if he's cute because I can't look at a stranger for more than 5 seconds the first time I see them. After that I just try to steal glances from obscure angles.

There were three guys from some secondary school on the bus. Two of them were seated at the back of the bus, right behind me. One of them kept yakking away while the other (who resembled one of my secondary school classmates that I actually liked very closely) nodded and half-laughed at whatever his friend was saying.

(I just reached the half-point of my bus journey, if that makes any sense.)

The third guy stood by the bus doors and was quite handsome. I thought about how if I told Pearl about him, she would make fun of me for liking someone younger, but then I wondered for a while what it felt like to be a straight guy crushing on a younger girl. Do they feel slightly embarrassed too? Or is it the most natural thing in the world for them to crush on younger girls? I think it might be weird for them to crush on older girls, but not as much as it is for straight girls to crush on younger guys. ¿¿¿

Right now the bus is on the expressway so it's just road and trees and some vehicles. This is my favourite part of the bus journey. It is usually at this part of the journey that the bus transforms into this giant moving bed. Everyone else on the bottom deck other than me is sleeping! This includes the woman sitting beside me, but I have no idea how she manages to stay balanced and sleep considering she's on the seat beside the aisle and the bus turns quite a lot. I know I had trouble sleeping on that seat a few days ago, because I was so afraid of falling right off my seat. Anyway, there are two other people using their cellphones, but that's it. There's something peculiar about a group of strangers sleeping together (literally). In Inception and After School Nightmare (and probably many other books or movies), this scene would fit right into the plot, at the part right before the characters all end up in the same dream. Speaking of dreams, this morning I dreamt that I was in my bedroom and at any moment, my mother would open the door and catch me (I don't remember what for). She opened the door and I was caught, but a few seconds later, my mother actually opened my bedroom door IRL to wake me up. Weird.

I am reaching the interchange in a minute. The smell from some girl's food is so strong and is making me very hungry, but I don't think I am getting lunch today.

I just got on the train. I just remembered that I saw Jed today. I can't believe I'm still crushing on this guy... It has been months since camp ended and yet whenever I see him I still feel the same way I did whenever we sat or stood near each other during camp. He's really cute though, I would say Kai-level cute. He has the essence of NAMJA T___T I don't even feel this way about Joe. (I've learned that the more you find out about a person, the more you find out what you dislike about them.)

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unseam — Sun, 14 Jul 2013 17:14:14 GMT

I'm really exhausted... I just finished my perspective drawing and to be honest it wasn't THAT hard. I would say that this was the easiest drawing I have done so far. It's just lines and angles and more lines. Fun.

I have to be up in 5 hours but I figure I'll just catch up on sleep when I'm on the bus to school since I won't have anything to read or do anymore now that I have returned Norwegian Wood. Hopefully I will be able to go to the library after school tomorrow to find something to read.

Today my father came home in a sort of bad mood (just like the previous night) and I am not sure why. My mother was the opposite when she got back. (She had even bought me a cute denim dress today!)

While I was drawing, Pearl decided to feed me my dinner because she knew that I wasn't going to stop my work and eat any time soon, like how I skipped lunch today. I felt bad but she insisted. She added a lot of lemon chilli as well *-* I just thought about how lucky I am because I have such a great sister and she's probably one of the best in the world. Lately, I really love talking to her, too. Sometimes I even ask her to stay in the room longer because I want to talk to her before she returns to Habbo land on her laptop (what a loser).

I don't know if my thirst to talk to her is due to the fact that I barely hold conversations during the 6 hours that I am in school. I do know that it is because of this reason that I'm constantly thinking. It gets crazy in my head during lessons. My head will spin with questions and unspoken responses to whatever I overhear someone saying in class, and then I make remarks on people's opinions and tastes before I let my mind stray some more to thoughts of my friends, my family, and the day's after school plans. All of these thoughts eventually lead to the main thread of thought, that longing I have without fail whenever I am in school--that longing to go home.

I am sewing and it begins to rain outside the window beside me and I want to go home. I'm walking to my next class and I see other students smiling and laughing, and I think about how my sister would already be home and how much happier I could be feeling. I always think about my mother. If I know that she's waiting at home then the longing aches even more. If she's coming home early then I like to beat her to it and get home before she does, so I don't miss a thing. I just want to see and be with her all the time. Sometimes I hate school because it causes me to see her less.

I have noticed how having her around me immediately puts me at ease. I feel so much happier, too. Sometimes school drives me near the edge and I think about quitting altogether, but she keeps me going just by being there. She doesn't know about how I've been feeling lately but she makes everything better. She also does so much for me and I wish she wouldn't because I will never be able to repay her, and I hate that.

I've rambled quite a bit for half an hour now, and all this talk about my mother actually has me tearing up so I think I should go to sleep before I start bawling. Good night.

Where is the post button on this thing

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unseam — Sun, 14 Jul 2013 10:03:53 GMT

I feel like those artist types who never bathe or wash their hair or eat or sleep for hours when they're working on something. This whole weekend I've only been drawing drawing DRAWING!!! from nine in the morning to midnight and it gets quite frustrating sometimes but it makes me forget about other things. Also, nothing beats that feeling of satisfaction you get once you take a step back and look at the finished product.

After finishing my still life and portrait drawings, I'm left with a two-point perspective drawing. I think this is going to be more of a breeze than the last two drawings, but I can't say for sure because people in my cohort who have already finished their perspective drawings have complained about it and said it was quite a challenge :/

I don't trust my judgement much after completing my portrait drawing (of Kiko ^o^) today, which I had expected to finish at 12PM, but ended up finishing only at 5.30PM. Her face isn't immediately recognisable but I'm still quite proud of my drawing because I had no idea I could draw and shade this decently...

I can't waste anymore time, so I'm going to get back to work. Ｏ( ｀_´)乂(｀_´ )Ｏ

unseam — Sat, 13 Jul 2013 14:55:24 GMT

The last time I was here I had typed out an entire essay on my thoughts about and feelings for MEJIBRAY on their 2nd anniversary, but then everything got deleted because my cursor strayed and clicked on one of my bookmarks. After that I had promised not to come back here ever again, but it's common knowledge that I can't keep promises, so here I am.

I've felt like writing for a very, very long time now, and because that feeling has intensified over the past two weeks (probably because I started reading again during this period), I decided to just write. However, this is going to be a short post, and, if I can keep this up, I might be writing at this length from now on because I don't think I can handle longer reflective (???) posts until I know how to organize the million thoughts in my head.

I've been thinking a lot lately about what someone had someone had said about jealousy. She said that there is "good jealousy" and "bad jealousy", and then elaborated on the former term. I can't remember everything she said or who exactly it was that said it, but I do remember her words striking me as odd at the time. For some reason, I've started thinking about what she said again. I don't think there is any such thing as good jealousy. Maybe she meant admiration or something like it, but "good jealousy"... no, I'm pretty sure there isn't such a thing.

Do you know what jealousy does? It turns you into the monster that you've kept hidden within yourself all this time, that plain, ugly human being you've always really been. Jealousy steers your imagination towards the direction of murder and violence. How many times have I stabbed or set this girl on fire in my head? When I put out the fire and am pulled back into the present from my mind, I feel disgusted that that thought had even crossed my head. Sure, it disappeared as quickly as it came, but it was there after all. I feel even more upset after a while because I had let that girl affect me THIS much. Jealousy just makes you hate. It makes you hate somebody, and then hate your own life or the people around you, until, ultimately, you hate your own stupid self. It's the circle of hate.

I come back to the first stage of jealousy very often lately, and the target is the same girl each time. I hate everything about her. I hate her face, her hair, her clothes, her voice, her friends, her this and that and just everything that doesn't even matter to me at all! I wish I could just let her go already.

I don't know if it is a good thing but upon reaching the last stage of jealousy, it doesn't take very long until I'm back to the first stage.

unseam — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 15:34:57 GMT

I'M NEVER COMING BACK TO THIS STUPID WEBSITE EVER AGAIN I FUCKING

unseam — Sat, 18 May 2013 16:10:06 GMT

Starting this week I will

sulk. A lot.

skip breakfast (if I can help it) and lunch (definitely).

read. I'm currently reading Ring (that horror novel) by Koji Suzuki.

I ALWAYS COME HERE WHEN I'M SAD

unseam — Fri, 03 May 2013 09:24:00 GMT

i feel like one day everyone will grow tired of me and by that time i'll also be tired of myself and that's the day i'll quit.

nothing is happening. right now i feel like i've waited long enough for something amazing to happen, and i don't want to wait around any longer just in case something tragic happens instead. i just want to go go go

unseam — Mon, 15 Apr 2013 09:22:53 GMT

i'm freaking out omg camp is tomorrow and i really don't think i am ready for it!!!!!!!! i mean thank god i'm not staying over tomorrow but from wednesday to friday i will and i just want to cry about it... this shouldn't even be that big a deal but idk why i'm so worried.

i don't think i'll make friends (immediately, at least) :( i mean i obviously want to but i've been through enough orientation camps and shit to know how it goes... like all the chinese girls would be friends with each other, same for the malay girls, and then whoever's left / whoever's nice enough would have to hang out with That Indian Girl. i can't do anything about it. and there are literally never enough indian people ANYWHERE here!!! i mean race is not a criteria for me when i'm choosing people to be friends with but sometimes i feel like it's easier making friends who are of a minority group...

i'm rambling and getting o/t so i'm just going to stop here. i just want this week to be over. ughhhhhghhghhgh

good friday

unseam — Fri, 29 Mar 2013 16:46:28 GMT

Today I

skipped lunch again. My dad was home but he didn't bother to cook anything.

re-watched Heathers.

answered the door to a senior from my new school, looking my worst (and wearing my one bad bra).

got chocolate ice cream spilled on my feet...

ended the day watching Beyonce's Live At Roseland: Elements of 4. (It was amazing and I cried. Duh.)

unseam — Wed, 27 Mar 2013 05:05:00 GMT

lj is sort of stupid by the way that it lists you as your own friend, isn't it?

unseam — Sat, 23 Mar 2013 17:50:14 GMT

all of my relationships boil down to the same thing: who'll leave the other first.
it's a race and i keep winning.

unseam — Mon, 04 Mar 2013 16:01:43 GMT

this boy is making me feel like a 13-year-old again and it sucks