Today has been so tiring. Not physically really, even though I had dance, but more emotionally- and maybe psychologically. I find myself being susceptible to any curve life throws at me, like when Ms Wong wanted my math booklet, and I felt so terribly near tears because it meant I still wasn't good enough for math. I was down there with the other people like Angela, and Cynthia, even though I thought I did well enough for Mid Years. In fact it was my best subject.
So so my best wasn't even good enough for anything. That's what it is.
Sometimes it's hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. And I can't shake the thought that I've been this way for a long time. Perhaps since last year.
This is for anyone who feels like they're tired, too. Maybe you're a little stressed from school, or other tasks, or a friendship problem. But it's not just a simple thing that can be resolved; it's a tiredness that seeps into your bones and settles down like plants in the Sahara. Miles of dry sand. Slowly but surely.
If that's you, know that you're not alone. I am here and with you. We will not go gently into that good night, because this life is our one and only chance to live it exactly how God has planned it to be since we were a mere idea in our mother's mind.
Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
There have been a lot of "firsts"in my life lately. It's almost as if I'm growing up.
Last week, I ate a meal completely alone in public. In a restaurant. Ok, a nearly empty restaurant, but who can say that they've eaten out all by themselves before? It doesn't seem weird, but honestly if you go try it, it doesn't feel at all normal. Especially if the place is crowded.
Then I bought my first romance book. Even buying a book is a monumental moment for me, so the fact that it was a romance- a young adult romance- is a pretty big deal. It's one of the last things I would go for on the shelves because they're usually too juvenile, not special enough for me to want to keep for the next million years. I got Eleanor and Park. One day I'll do a fresh reads on it, but for now, suffice to say it won my heart in the first few pages, and just like John Green: it will be a memento of what it feels like to be young and in love.
Following that, I went shopping alone for the very first time. It didn't really feel strange until I realized that that never happened before! I'd always had the idea in my head but never got the opportunity to carry it out. On Monday I had a short jaunt to Orchard. More of errand running than shopping, but I picked up a new Kikki K planner (IT IS GORGEOUS. Who needs breakfast at Tiffany's? Holly Golightly never stepped into Kikki K, that's for sure.) and a dance / travel duffel bag.
But recently I've not just been only doing "firsts". More and more I wonder if I'm truly "deeply unhappy", "desperately sad", and "terribly lonely". And it's all three of them in turns, as its whole. Not just unhappy, but deeply unhappy. Not just sad, but desperately so. And not just plain old lonely, but terribly alone.
It's because I've been basing my happiness off other people. People, that's plural, by the way. I don't even know. It's silly and stupid, and it does nothing but bring the world crashing down to pieces when you realize no one is ever going to be that rock for you. He / she is a human. Humans are foolish. We make mistakes. We're a selfish people. The love shaped void can't be filled by us- by anyone who walks on earth. Only one.
That's Jesus. He is the way, the truth and the life. I quote that directly from the bible.
In my mind, he is made of light and peace. So I am trying to remember that He is a perfect solace to whatever sorrows that plague me. Not only that, He should govern the way I live my life: to bear the fruit of the spirit.
I guess that's my last "first"- what a paradox. The first time realizing what a perfect peace can be found in him. (There's a difference though. I realize this, but I must also struggle to apply it and to feel it. So let's pray.)
Thats all I need. Really. Not some flash in the pan obsession, not a worldly desire, not a human impulse. So I will sing, and I will dance, because He is the strength of my heart and portion forever.
I'm forever faithful to the Breakfast Club, Sunflower Club, and even Marching Club, but for now, the Tiong Bahru Club takes centre stage.
TB (don't get mixed up with Tracy Beaker, all you Jacqueline Wilson readers.....maybe I'm just talking to myself though...) is a suburban-y area in the heart of Singapore, but through the ages, it's gotten more and more hip. The mix of old and new, of incense and food from stylish cafes, makes it a place that's just as well suited for the oldies to share kopi in one of the many traditional coffeeshops- or as we say, kopitiam- as it is to tweens to chat over drinks, pastries, sweet treats in the cafes that are sprinkled in the area. Very delightful.
One of my favourite things about TB is that the entire place seems to be meticulously colour-schemed. As if its entire residency held a meeting and unanimously agreed to keep everything in shades of white, blue, brown, and pastel, much like a picky tumblr blogger. The resulting effect? The perfect backdrop of ancient apartments meets clean white walls, an entire door front made out of glass, bright new buildings amongst shophouses that have stood the test of time.
Like an old song, blaring from a weatherbeaten radio, but from time to time, snatches of today's pop songs somehow are broadcast too, for everyone to hear.
Alice down the looking glass, it feels.
For a while I was thinking of a massive overhaul of this blog again. I considered moving back to blogspot, changing the URL, and having a good shot at making this into a real beauty blog, where they all have amazing curated pictures and a fantastical array of endless products. But apart from my unwilling-ness to do a makeover for the umpteenth time, I discovered I truly do like what this is right now.
For one thing, I'm far from being a "beauty" person right now. I use the same 3 products every single day, and it can hardly be counted when 1 of them is a dermatologist prescribed cream. And I'm dead set against becoming reliant on makeup (just a personal ethos). So this would become pretty empty, wouldn't it? For another, it's been so great having a sort of online diary. I've loved every single moment of writing a post, putting my heart into it, and sharing things that I really love- to all the 11 of you privvy to my corner of the internet, on the last count.
So to those who still visit lydiastargirl, once in a while, let's just keep things the way they are, right?
We're truly steeped into the June holidays now, so I finally have time to crack open a novel- or two or three or four.
I picked these titles up from my school library. Now this library more often than not disappoints rather than impresses (I'm convinced the most modern author in there is Murakami), but once in a while we come across some nice books that are worth mentioning about.
I'm talking, of course, about The Mysterious Benedict Society.
This is going to be an angry post, even though today was overall a really great day, because as we all know fury burns the brightest and the shortest. So while I am perfectly aware this will be inconsequential in the near future, I'm annoyed off enough to write a blog post about it, when this blog only has those whom I fully and completely trust reading it, which means please do not talk about this to ANYONE because these are my pure, unfiltered thoughts.
Anger is one of those emotions which I control the most. Somehow or another I always find its burn to disappear very quickly, and I can never be mad at someone for very long. One day I am driven up the wall and the next you'll find that I have forgotten all about it- which I truly have. With me, it's gone, Kapoot. In the past. Forgiving and forgetting is one of the easiest things I can do, and this isn't a self praising statement, either. Till today I'm not sure it's an admirable quality.
Therefore when some occurrences irk me, I've decided that it's OK to not let them slide. It's all good to be easygoing, but when does black and white begin to blur? When do you know if you're being pushed over when all along you've thought you're dodging the push?
[disclaimer: knowing myself, everything in here will be something I've put way too much thought over, and it might be an exaggerated version of real events. But if you don't mind, then keep on reading.]
So today I accidentally posted a selfie on my main with the caption "ew...lol..piss off" (yes, that's how I type in slang). Of course I removed it a few hours later after realizing it, but heaps of people probably saw it, and I expect it caused a few discussions in various groups about who I was talking about. Well, that's not the point. The point is that later on I heard a clique having a conversation, and one of them happened to say "piss off is my word, I use it a lot". And then I saw on a girl from that clique's snapchat with her saying "piss off" in an accent, repeatedly.
Now, there's a big WHAT IF: what if they weren't thinking about me at all, and just happened to be saying that with absolutely zero context? If that's the case then my whole response towards this thing would be totally unnecessary, and a result of an over-complicating mind. In fact, I wish with all my heart that's the case.
But there's a part of me that just can't believe they happened to be mentioning "piss off" when this very morning I posted the exact same thing on my instagram. It's not like it's a long standing joke amongst them- and trust me- they have many. So if my instincts prove true (not that we will ever be able to find out), then I have only one thing to say, which is: piss off yourself.
To be honest, I'm not sure why I'm so angry either. Maybe it's just because I hate being gossiped about. I am by nature a lowkey person, and I detest being in any kind of social natter, the kind that's stared off with "oh my god, did you know...?" and ended off with giggles, side glances. Even worse being involved in any sort of drama, my goodness. It's also because of the tone they used. In the snapchat it was so...mocking, because they used this horrible bimbotic American-sounding voice, like they were making a fool out of me, and it was a huge joke. I was the huge joke.
I know it's my own fault for posting a rude post on a public account. I found it quite funny too, plus it's not the first time this has happened. But to have other people- girls I know and interact with- to sit there and have a nice laugh at it, not with me but AT me; it feels awful, and I'm angry that people I call friends will make a joke out of my carelessness, whether they meant to hurt me or not. Because even though I don't agree with everything these people do, no matter how many unkind thoughts I have about them (as individuals or as a clique): I would always keep them private, not breathed a word to anyone, except maybe the pages of my diary.
If we are friends, I think a certain respect has to be accorded. Mutually. That is a basic courtesy, the foundation for all relationships between people.
I am not little Miss Perfect, on the contrary, I am far too flawed, imperfect in countless ways. The number of times I've gossiped about people I know, said unkind things, not sticking up for someone I know is being unfairly treated......but I am trying, everyday, to become a nicer person, a person someone coulld look at and think: "yes, she's a true friend." For very very close friends to the slightest acquaintances alike. That really shows what kind of person you are.
So, should these people ever read this post....though it's quite unlikely...you know who you are. Whether you did it to mock me, or took it lightly, please know that I didn't. This time I will always remember. And next time, when a friend of yours does something silly, maybe you'll think twice about making a joke out of it, and remember that it says more about you- than it does of me.
L / 18 / SG / undetermined
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Your story is what you have, what you will always have. It is something to own.
last updated: 5 september