Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Thursday, November 23, 2017

What's your...

favourite colour? 

favourite book? 
Aaaargh!!! Sunshine probably. 

favourite song? 
Depends on my mood. But Ed Sheeran's I See Fire is always a good bet. 

favourite food? 
Um... chocolate? 

favourite animal? 

favourite shirt? 
the white one

favourite smells? 
flowers! and coffee

favourite movie?
Spirited Away

Do you know that...

your outfit weirds people out occasionally? 
Sometimes I figure it out when I get home and see what I'm actually wearing, haha. 

your friends sometimes wonder if you're alcoholic?
I'm not though?
This might be because someone said, "I drink three cans of beer every night" and I said, "but that's not a lot." Everyone stared at me. But come on. We've heard people say "I drink one bottle of rice wine a night" before. 

you're short? 
I'm fun sized

you're short? 

you talk too much and tell too many random stories? 
God, yes. 

you laugh at inappropriate times...
I tried to keep it in! 

....or sometimes for no apparent reason at all?
sometimes things just pop into my mind and I find it hilarious. 

your neighbours can hear you 'singing' in the shower?
You're kidding, right? 

you're occasionally smart?
well, thank you.

you space out too much?
life gets overstimulating.

you don't study enough?
hahahhahhahahahahhahahahahhHAHAHAHAHA yeah I know

you like Japan too much?
sadly....especially since I doubt Japan likes me. But hey it's a beautiful country. With good food!

you write too many emo posts?
it had to go somewhere.

you could stand to lose some weight?
that's a nice way to put it. *wink wink*

you look freaky when you open your eyes real wide?

you have a real bad temper?
scares me sometimes.

you like to try many things and settle on none?
Mmm. But how do you know what's right for you if all you've ever known is one?

you have strange sleeping habits?
sigh. where to begin?

no one really cares about not eating animals?
I kind of do.

you need to get over yourself?
yes. One day. Eventually.

but you're still a pretty good person?
Aw, don't make me cry. 

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

So what do you say? When we're 60? 

How about 59? 

You know it's all arbitrary. 

Who thought this was all a good idea? 

Imagine Dragons - not today

Thursday, November 16, 2017

He swallowed. 

That's how the story begins.


I once read something along these lines:

Think about something you absolutely don't want people to know about you - something about your character, your desires and wants. 

Now consider the possibility that everyone already knows it. 

Within the first five minutes of conversation most people can see through us and intuit things we don't know about ourselves. It's almost certain that the things you're ashamed about yourself are things your friends already know. So act with that knowledge. Learn self-deprecating humour. Learn to live with your vulnerabilities in the open. 

So today I had a conversation with a friend and we spoke about pain and suffering. But I'm not wise. I'm not very smart. What am I then?

I try to joke about the things I hate most about myself, because I know - even though I always used to hope otherwise - that these ugly sides of me are apparent. I've been called out on them before. I've read the looks before.

Sometimes, though, it gets too painful to joke about. Sometimes I wish very much that I were different, but I'm afraid if I take that step the ground will fall out under my feet.

Lucius - two of us on the run

Thursday, November 9, 2017

There's a fire in the middle of the room, its flickering light barely touching the encroaching gloom. The darkness is almost tangible, a black fog that slaps off the tendrils of flame. 

Near the fire, occasionally visible is a pair of hands. They're clasped together, the arms and body shrouded in darkness. A pair of feet bundled in thick woollen socks. On the opposite side of the fire, a black snout. Two tiny raccoon paws. The sound of breathing, long and deep. Occasionally the raccoon snuffles. 

The room is cold and the fire is dying by the minute. Outside snow falls silently, piling up to the windows. It is the coldest winter in many years, and the coldest night of the winter. 

Thursday, October 19, 2017

I don't feel like writing anything with those two lumpy posts sitting down there. So let's do some housecleaning.

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

I don't think I was put in this world to make my parents sad. But it seems like I can't be who I am without being a constant disappointment.

I don't do the things I do out of spite. I'm not trying to defy you, I'm just trying to be authentic. I've always asked myself: "Who am I? Where am I going? What do I want?" I've made a lot of mistakes, trying to believe that what I want is what the people I love want of me, but it's not the case.

I've said it before and I'll say it the last time: I'm sorry I can't be who you wanted me to be.

I wish you had a better imagination, that could accept different variations of 'a good daughter'. I'm sorry, too, that you can't.

I wish I could bring myself to slowly talk things through and make things right, but I never had much courage, and now I don't have much love left.

I am not your counsellor. I am not your doll and not your puppet. I am not an object. I'm good at bending myself to appease others and for the sake of harmony, up till a point where I lose sight of who I am.

So what I guess I can do in small steps (since most of the time 'we are the cause of our sufferings'):
- learn to say no. Start saying no.
- look for a place.
- stand on my own two feet.