Just so you know I haven't been sitting in front of my laptop wishing I could be better. Attachment is getting more and more frustrating; I find myself taking the long route to the loo every hour. When I get home (which has been taking me about 1 and half hours these 2 days because of the horrible traffic caused by the whole hoo-haa about the fugitive,) I start to paint. I'm working hard on my painting which seems to be going nowhere. I don't feel alive, as if there are no feelings to tell. It just suddenly becomes ironic that art has turned into my safety net instead of physics stuff.

'You must get better grades so you can get a scholarship and work at your father's place. You'd have stability...' my mother said in the kitchen. She was going on and on about how I need to acheive what they want. No, I have yet to tell her, to convey the news that I never improved or got better. I don't know what I want. I want to become what they want me to be, but I also want to be what I was supposed to be. I'm ambivalent.

I'm at this point where I need to decide where to go. I am going to be 19. If I live to forget my own name I would live for another 60 years. I don't want to be 30 and still be ME. I can choose stability and my mother's dream, or I can choose trecherous waters that may get me to nowhere, but if I suceed I would live gloriously, and make my parents face that I can be GOOD at other things.

Oh my god I just don't want to think. I want to sleep, sleep until everything fixes itself.

Labels: art, blah, depressing, dreams

I have decided that I will not be upset that I cannot be like my sisters or my smart friends.
I have tried and tried. My life was set on a stage, every move a performance, this face a mask in which I had hoped to please my parents, my grandparents, my family, my friends. The real person is here- vulnerable, emotional, everything everyone did not wish for me to be.

What the hell. I am upset. I will be upset for a very long time. It's not because I want good grades for my own good. Do you not understand how hungry I am for my parents' approval, how desperate I am for their praise? I see how my family and relatives surround my sisters in awe, I wish I could have that. I wish I wasn't this stupid daughter. I wish I could be somebody. I don;t want to be stupid rafhana who blends in with the wall.

this is utterly depressing. i have so many words to say but my heart is so heavy.

Labels: depressing, i'm sorry i can't be fucked, sad, school

When I said I felt like killing myself, did you really think I was kidding?

I am not. I do not joke about such matters because I've been there, done that, washed clean and returned to the world.

I just want to survive. It is so hard? Is it so wrong to beg for life? Is it so wrong to want to do well enough so I don't end up like everyone else?

I have screwed my 3.999999 dream. My life is fucked in front of me. The dream is gone, the vision is lost. How will I tell my parents? My whole life was about excelling and proving my worthiness to them. What do I do? There is nothing to prove! Everytime I keep telling myself I will MAKE myself worthy. I will show them why I deserve to be their child, why I should be loved just as my sisters are. Why can I not have that one day, in which they would say, 'WE ARE SO PROUD OF YOU.'
tell me why god, why do I not have that day? Am I so undeserving of it? Isn't it enough that I am ugly beyond imagination, why can I not have this, why can I not be blessed with virtue, with education, with smartness? Am I just stupid, am I just so undeserving of a good life? must I struggle all the time, must my day always end in tears, why does it seem like there is NO light at the end of the tunnel?

Maybe I deserve to unhappiness. Maybe this is my life. Maybe i'm a failed experiment. maybe I am the unluckiest human being.

I feel like lying down here, wait for the world to pass, let no one touch me, let me stop living.

I don't know what else to do.

Tonight I am a threat to myself.

you can't tell me that I am good in art that is why I can't do this.

'we are so proud of you.'

fuck. i don't know what else to do. i can't just move on, can't do better because my spirit is gone. I don't want to do this anymore. how will I do this?

help

Labels: depressing, i'm sorry i can't be fucked, sad, school, sickly talk

I finally uploaded my recent painting on my deviantart. I painted it in one night.
Try to inteprete it. It isn't that hard. Just sad.

CLICK HERE TO SEE MY PAINTING
please view it. for my sake.

I'm currently working on a new painting now. It's been quite hard because I didn't buy a canvas large enough to incorporate details.

Somebody tell me why I'm on my own,
if there's a soulmate for everyoneeeeee.

Labels: art, deviantart, sad

After work ended I went to town alone. I suppose it's easier to say that I am a loner and I needed some alone time, than saying my friends don't give a fuck about me anymore. Oh well I went there to get some art supplies, nothing much. I'm just so detached from the world right now. I don't belong anywhere, I'm just a person on the outside looking in; trying to find slots to stick myself in but then it's like this repelling force pushes me right out.

I realised that after I started being happy, I caused myself a lot of damage so I wouldn't have those feelings anymore. The hug changed everything. But now it's gone, and I'm back down there again. It's okay I guess. I'm going to kick and struggle with this all by myself, no help this time. I realised that when I get help I depend on people too much and when they go away I feel like it's the worst thing in the world. Oh fucking help. What's help anyway. No one will help me fix this. You don't understand.

I tried to paint, then I realised I wasn't in a van gogh moment so I stopped. I feel horrible, rotten, horrible, damaged beyond repair. I feel like I'm broken into pieces and trampled all over. I feel like nothing. Empty. Fucking empty. Tired. Empty. Nothing.

Maybe I really don't love you anymore.

Labels: depressing, irony, sad

I don't love you anymore.

Labels: loveee

you dont care a bit. i put on this facade that i'm all happy for you but i'm not. i'm being all noble and kind. i'm not selfish. i let you go, i fucking did. because i would do everything to make you fucking happy even if i'm not in the picture at the end of the day.

i keep telling myself that i deserve to be heartbroken and ripped apart because i owe you so many things. you owe me nothing, you could go away anytime you want, you could disappear forever and not fucking care. what am i worth to you? just someone you could fucking pity, is that what I am?

all i'm asking is for you to tell me it's going to be okay, like you always did. when i needed someone to give a damn, you were there. how many times do i have to scream and beg for help. help me, fucking help me. grab my wrists and make me stop. i hate you, i hate you for loving her more than me.

i hate that your goodnights mean nothing anymore.

Labels: depressing, friends, sad

What do I have to do to get a bit of attention? Do I really have to fucking scream, 'I'M NOT FUCKING OKAY, NO IT WILL NOT BE ALRIGHT! CAN YOU PLEASE STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING FOR A MOMENT AND JUST FUCKING SAVE ME.'

Again, I'm all alone. It's so cold, the world is so fucking cold. Everyone's busy being happy, and you're busy being in love.

Make this shit stop. It's not work. It's not the fact that I don't know where the fuck I am going. It's not the bloody results that are coming. I'm just so fucked up inside I just want this shit to stop. Make it stop. Please someone make it fucking stop.

I feel like vomiting. fuck.

make it stop.

Labels: i'm sorry i can't be fucked, sickly talk

I'm at work now so technically I'm allowed to bitch right? My supervisor is out so I'm being totally dishonest and decided to use the internet for my own purposes. Shortly after writing the previous post I got all low again and had a bit of a panic attack. The inevitable sadness, the inability to breathe and the fact that I thought everything was just looming over me and everything was going to end and that I was going to die.

I tried to make the shit stop by sleeping early.

I got 8 hours of sleep last night. I had weird dreams. First I was with my future sweetheart in the bus discussing whether we would do art in the future as a career and then I turned and my boss was there wearing sunglasses. so fucking weird. Then the bus turned into the office and I had a pile of work to do. My god what a nightmare. I even dream about work when I sleep. can't anyone get any rest around here?

I have so many things to say but i'm really paranoid and keep minimising the window hahah. I'm reading a book by Stephen Fry and it's making me burst fits of giggles! He's hilarious.

till then!

(christine made me smile today!)

Labels: blah, i'm sorry i can't be fucked

I have decided that I will not bitch about how stupid itp is when I get home. So I tried complain as little as I can. I realised that being at home is MY time and place and I should occupy myself with things that are worthwhile. I will limit my internet usage to 30 minutes a night because being in front of the computer from 8.30 to 5.30 everyday at work is making my head hurt.

Today was a happy day for me because I had an appointment to get my nose checked. I managed to escape for a few hours from work. Thank you dad, for being so kind to drive me back and forth and around, even making the effort to find a parking space so that I could go to art friend(but there wasn't any parking space and I didn't go to artfriend.) I went 'WHOAH WHOAH WHOAH!' like a little kid in the car as he drove through the alleys around bukit timah. I know that I'm very 'jakun' lol. I was more fascinated by things than my six year old sister.

I'm inspired to write down the things that make me happy. I need to keep reminding myself of these things when I'm not at my best.

1) When my father is in a good mood and he lets me grab any sandwich from seven eleven.
2) When my father isn't working and he is in a good mood and drives us around (you have to understand why this is very important to me.)
3) When my father watches the television with me.
4) When my mum is nice to me.
5) Chilling at Starbucks with Nettie and talk for hours.
6) Talking to Kelvin.
7) Painting.
8) Random social gatherings
9) Reading Son Of The Shadows
10) That time I went to see the greek masterpieces from Louvre at the National Museum (:
11) Hugs.
12) Balloons
13) When I wake up to discover I have lost 1 kg.
14) Collarbones.
15) Knowing that I'm different.
16) Gerard Butler
17) Hot chocolate with caramel
18) 18th December
19) My birthday
20) 10th February
21) My mother's birthday.
22) Random text messages.
23) Emails!
24) Adam.
25) When my little sister sits next to me to watch me paint.
26) Sunflowers
27) When I don't spend hours in the loo being in agony.
28) Watching 'FRIENDS'
29) Watching 'the holiday'
30) Zakiyyah's laugh (hahah omg you made it into the list.)
31) Listening to 'My Endless Love' by Lionel Ritchie
32) Christine saying 'You're my favourite senior'
33) Not eating dinner
34) sunset
35) Someone messaging me 'Good morning' and asking me how I'm feeling
36) making cards
37) Phone calls in the middle of the night
38) 5.30 pm when work ends
39) September
40) people 'favourite-ing' my work on deviantart
41) sunny mornings.
42) pancakes.
43) orange juice (:
44) meeting kelvin out of the blue.
45) HAVING A SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE.

okay that's it for now. will add more. back to my colouring!

Labels: happy talk, loveee

I AM BORED BORED BORED BORED SO FUCKING BORED. I'M AT WORK NOW AND THIS IS BORING. I CAN'T BELIEVE ONLY ONE HOUR HAS PASSED I REALLY WANT TO GET OUT AND DO SOMETHING MORE PRODUCTIVE THAN CHANGING COLOUR CODES. ARGH ARGH ARGH BLAH BLAH BLAHHHH. WHY WHY WHY. I NEED TO CONCENTRATE ON MY MISERY MORE THAN THIS FUCKING JOB. SCHOOL IS SO CRUEL I DON'T WANT TO DO ITP ANYMORE.

Labels: depressing

You must know, of course, that if I do not blog here I would write in my DeviantArt journal which you are most welcome to read. When the grey skies demands its presence in my world, then I would write in my livejournal which you would have no opportunity to investigate.

I cannot believe it is already Sunday. Would it upset you if I told you I cannot endure my itp and would rather spend two months with no money? I feel so trapped. Trapped with no escape. I cannot live like this. If you knew me, you would know how hard this is for me. I cannot commit to anything. I cannot be called upon whenever anyone feels like it. I cannot be confined within the four walls and forced to type meaningless shit into the computer. I resent my fucking 'job'. I wish time would pass swiftly so that when I wake up from this sleep, the two turnings of the moon would be over. A living nightmare, that is what working, is like. How could anyone endure such a cruel punishment, how could anyone afford to waste their hours doing the things they dislike as if time meant so little to them?

I need freedom. I need room to breathe. I cannot live like this. Tomorrow would be Monday. I do not think I can take it.

Please god, please let this is over. 2 months cannot feel like forever.

It has made me realise that I would not work for anyone but myself. To realise that I probably wasted 2 years of my life doing something that I know would not benefit me in the future is breaking my spirit. What do I want to do? Why not this? Why did I choose this? But no doubt doing this could possibly be the best thing I have ever done to my life because I have met many people whom I have learn to care for.

I know what I do not want to do. I do not know what I want to do. I have begun to question myself, my childhood ambitions, pondered my personality. Can you blame me for chasing something that would put my misery, unhappiness, and my overwhelming emotions into great use? Like art, like writing, like a contrast to engineering? I am an artist; I am not a man of science. My parents cannot keep denying what my soul has been drawn towards. They have tried to stop me, ignored my work, tried to change me into something I wasn't. I am afraid to tell them that I do not want what they want. What I want is dangerous. What I want will not secure my future; it will not allow room for children because I may not afford it. I cannot stay in one place; I cannot live a programmed life. I need to move from place to place. My soul wonders off, my mind travels. Will they understand? Does anyone understand how this affects me, why I need to escape so often? Why I need to paint, why I need to draw, why I write. I am not normal. I live two lives.

Labels: art, depressing, dreams, sad

So.

I have decided that I will not, for the death of me, have a job that I hate. ITP has been such a chore and I wake up every morning with such disdain.

I will write a proper update as soon as I feel happy enough to write.

My heart has been trampled all over.

Labels: depressing

STILL HAPPY STILL HAPPY STILL HAPPY.

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

yes i am very much in love.

Labels: happy talk, loveee

I am the happiest girl, happiest man, happiest human being, happiest organism, happiest creation, happiest person.

ASK ME WHY.


teheheheheheheheeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Labels: happy talk, loveee

ARGH ARGH ARGHARGHARGHARGH

I AM ABOUT TO CLUB SOMEONE TO DEATH.

A POX ON MY PARENTS. I HATE THEIR CURFEWS.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHFUCKFUCKUFCKUFCKSHITTYFUCK

!!!

Labels: annoying, i'm sorry i can't be fucked

Okay 5 days to Valentine's and what do I do?
I've listed several possibilities.

One, I would most probably be at home, alone and hideous, indulging in cheap biscuits and watching some melodrama about unrequited love. While I'm at that I shall also contemplate why I am all fat and alone, which possibly would end up into a festival of tears and crumbled bits of tissue paper.

Two, I would be at home, alone and hideous, with a cup of fatty hot chocolate and a book about unrequited love. Later in the evening I predict curling up under the blank ceiling with several tissues stuffed up my nose. Probably with both my wrists slashed and bleeding.

Three, I would be in the hospital, if I slashed my wrists.

Four, I would be out with female friends, if not friend, doing feminist things, and like holding up a banner which says, 'Fuck Valentine's' or something like that. We would probably have like anti-love dinner and watch PS I LOVE YOU because I say so, and because I need to see Gerard Butler semi-naked.

Five, I would be out with male friends, or friend, doing friendly things. Like various acts of friendly affection, sort of like hugging, kissing, tonguing, fingering. You know, friendly things.

Six, I would be out with a lesbian, on a date. Which would probably end up pretty sexual. Various moments of orgasm.

Seven, I would be out with a date. Now this is HIGHLY UNLIKELY. I would probably lose my virginity to a woman than have this happening to me.

Yes, I realise I'm a very sad person. I have no other way of spending my time than this.

Labels: love bashing, sad

In fact, sir, you have an emotional capacity of a teaspoon. I pity you for feeling so little.

Fools. How they waste their lives being social whores, narrow-minded people, and indulging in insufferable child talk. I pray god curse you into the bloody cave that you have to crawl out of there barely alive and have the demons pulling your legs down. Then you would know what it is like, to be in the sunlight, to have the rays blind your eyes, the feeling of being pulled out of the sea, shiny and brand new. Then you would know how to feel; despair as if you are about to die, happiness as if you would live forever. You would care about the blind man playing his instrument in the streets.

(the passages above stays.)

Anyway, let us revert to happy topics. I doubt fools can understand English. Faye told me that if they care more than you do, then they are not worth it. It is even more pathetic that they keep their anonymity while trying to express their shallow views. (Stays.)

(Stays.) Why, are you so scared of revealing yourself? Dotard. I don’t give a rat’s ass about you. (in case of future insults)

(New phrases added whoah!) *If this was any other person who isn't ahem ahem, I wouldn't have forgiven them. Now this takes a lot of my pride but I'm sorry for saying ' I don't give a rat's ass about you.' I do. But if you were say, someone I didn't care about, then I meant all of those horrible things I have typed. So I'm sorry I will buy you a lot of candles and chocolates when you get back. *shuffles feet* But I'm at the most suckiest stage of my life, and furthermore I'm having PMS, that's got to count for something.*

I finally finished Blade of Fortriu during the stay at my grandmother’s. Faolan will come back with a new love, don’t worry. So I have borrowed three books from the library, and yesterday I bought two more. That just means I have ten books to read (plus the millions of books I‘ve bought sometime ago and have not yet read.) So I will care myself with words from Stephen Fry, Salman Rushdie, Victor Hugo, Will Self, etc, for the long days to come. My art will dwindle and die, until I’ve finished them all. I’m in the midst of painting two pieces but I cannot get them done. I’ve been putting layers and layers of paint on one after another and now my supplies are exhausted. I will go back to drawing when I feel like it.

Now I am thinking I should go back to the old days of writing.

So in the last 3 days I have:

-Said my farewell to Nettie.
-Rekindled a lost friendship.
-Proposed my love to huge bookstores.

This post is very dry. Sigh.

Labels: books, i'm sorry i can't be fucked, shallow shits

I don't like being confronted about my feelings. I'm just so used to being a person who appears to be happy and twinkly on the surface and have nothing inside. I'm comfortable showing people that side. In fact, I don't mind forcing a smile on my face just to avoid being asked, 'are you okay?'

Yes, yes of course I am okay.

But what happens when they don't believe you? Ah, just painfully explain the situation, exposing the hurt that resides in the very crevices of your soul. To tell a truth is to realise the extent of the pain. It doesn't make things better. You go home feeling worse than ever. It is so much easier to cover the truth with a lie; to pretend everything is all right, smile like you're programmed to. That way you cannot live with the hurt all the time. For a moment there, there's something else, something other than the pain. It will come another time, like when you're curling up under your blanket dreaming of sad tales, forsaken dreams.

I have also realised that I have hardly any emotional friends. I mean, those I feel comfortable conveying my feelings. That way I cannot rant, or spill out feelings because I pretend I don't have any. It's a sad life, but I just can't. And here I am, telling you about my thoughts, letting you into my world. Maybe I can't deal with a pair of eyes looking at me, as I'm being ripped apart, naked in the bright sunlight. Like being interrogated. I just cannot handle it. Oh how it hurts to tell anyone how much you're hurting.

This is so like Faolan. This character from a book I am reading. Distant, aloof, but he's suffering inside. When they made him sing, he felt so much pain, started recalling so many memories he had tried so hard to cast away at the back of his head. And he wept.

It sort of made you realise how hard it is to make the big ball of hurt go away. You keep the memories, the wounds inside, until it builds up into this big ball of hurt that makes you so bitter and hard. When someone tries to mould it with their hands, give it so much warmth that it melts into this concoction- it's evil. So evil to make you feel things and dream again. You're made to face those hurt, happiness, rage, love.

That is why I never let anyone in. It's so much easier to run. I read what happened to Faolan. He began to love again, but it had hurt him so much. Did it make him different?

I just know that one day I will not live like this anymore. I know you cannot run all the time, because someone can always run faster, and is bound to catch you, and shake you out of the daze. Someone already caught me. And someone caught Faolan. But, it made him love her. To know that she doesn’t love him, but another man, is another sad tale. And this is the tale that my heart feels so heavy to tell.

How I wish I would save my soul
I’m so cold from fear.

Labels: depressing, dreams, sad

my eyes are swollen
my pillow is wet
plan recovery has fallen
i think it's back to square one.

Labels: depressing, sad

I should stop reading happy thoughts, seeing happy people, watching happy things. Let's face it, I'm not exactly a bundle a joy. If you think it's so easy to get better, maybe you could explain to me why I've been fucked up for 6 years.

I think my previous post caused quite a stir. 20 plus hits in one night? Holy shit. Did it actually shocked you how depressed I actually am? fucking shit.

Anyway.

Plan Recovery started yesterday. I'm trying my best. I really am.

So,

I probably did not mention this, but I have been sick. So what's the diagnosis? Unknown. I've been having frequent nosebleeds, and on tuesday before my thermofluids paper I vomitted out a lot of blood. Then I got so dizzy and couldn't stand still. And I still had a paper to sit for. Last night I was the last straw. I got scared shit so I went to see the doctor today.

No medication to help me, so they gave me a referral. Yeah, I have an appointment like in a month to get a wormy microscope stuck inside my nostrills. But, in the period from today to the appointment date, should I ever get another violent nosebleed, I need to get to the hospital asap.

Does that sound scary to you?

Because it does it me. Fever, migrain, nosebleed, puking and coughing out blood, headache...

Haha there's no reason to be happy. or positive.

Labels: i'm sorry i can't be fucked, sickly talk