BTW, HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY.

One Day

Back from Singapore. Wish not to blog in detail about it. what’s done is done and now onto the future! :) But I had a good time. I mean how could i not; it was like a 6 day holiday with them funny/weird people from mukabuku and indicinelive. So awesome. Too many good memories.

Singapore was full of epiphanies for me anyway. Random, yeah, totally. I realised optimism is really the best option and moping about something isn’t gonna do you any good at all. I think I’m growing up. Pretty soon I’ll be 65 with 3 cats, 2 piranhas, 7 tarantulas and 4181653 medical conditions. Time flies.

You get enough love from the people around you and that should be sufficient. I mean, I’m just eighteen! Why am I chasing things so soon? I have time. Maybe it’s time to sit back and just go with the flow. It is supposed to be easy anyway. But some people say it’s supposed to be hard work, so there I’m back at square one.

Hmmm. Maybe!

Falling in love and being loved is easy.

Making it stick and worthwhile is hard work.

Yeah that sounds about right, right? I don’t know for sure. Whatever it is, I am not letting stupid things get me so down anymore. I have time. Stop rushing and chasing and endlessly searching. One day, love will find you and that’s the truth. Till then, it’s time to live ‘cause simply, you just shouldn’t waste your time making yourself miserable. You’ve got other people to do that. So. It’s time to fuck protocol and what people think.

fuck perfection;

let’s go out and make fools of ourselves.

I’m going to learn to take things lightly. From now on, my happiness comes first. And I think this is the way it’s supposed to be.

One day, I’ll be found :)

Be Right Back.

If I ever write a romantic comedy, I’ll make sure to use these words somewhere.

“Before I go,

I thought I'd just tell you

that I can't live without you.

So if I return to you in a coffin,

perhaps some years from now,

please do tell the coroner that

I died of a lonely heart.”

Yeah. Definitely will use these words.

I’m leaving for Singapore in about 15 hours time. Will only be back on the 30th of August. Be sure to update then. If I find it hard to sleep later tonight (because of all the nervous tingles), I’ll probably squeeze in another post before I leave. I’m going to be a big girl and travel abroad for the first time. Plus, I’ll be doing it without my parents! I just hope I don’t do something silly at immigration.

Oh, they grow up so fast.

Hmm. I wonder how I’ll survive six days of being disconnected from the internet.

I don’t know why I fight for you this way.

Currently on repeat: “Lemon Meringue Tie” – Dance Gavin Dance

No. I don’t want this post to be emo. I mean, get a grip, Belinda. What the fuck? Calm down. There is no drama. You just need to take deep breaths. Deeeeeeeeep breaths. Silly things stop you too often. So buck up. You aren’t a kid anymore. Gurghh.

“It’s made the world a smaller place. It’s made your world a smaller place. That’s all it’s done.”

Isn’t that just sad? Yeah, I say those lines in Mukabuku. How to not get depressed? GAH GAH GAH.

I’m so restless now. I want to go downstairs and peek into the fridge, but what’s the point; I’m pretty sure the contents are still like they were ten minutes ago. It’s not like my dad went grocery shopping at 1am in the morning.

I need positive juju vibes. I can’t go to Singapore feeling like crap. Stupid emotions; I wish I could just lock you down and in place.

In the words of Ivan Chan aka Manboy:

  FuhMuhLuh.

Ooooh, new song on repeat. All Around Me by Flyleaf.

“My tongue dances behind my lips for you.”

“I’ve got two days. You’ve got forever. So, what’s stopping you?”

I will probably miss you more than I thought when all this finally comes crashing down. It’s more than I can verbalise. I’m thinking of perhaps some metaphors and analogies to justify the degrees to which I shall miss you. It’s all very technical and they just don’t seem to fit anywhere in this post.

It’s just hitting me now that you won’t be here long. You got dreams, I’ve got dreams; unfortunately they just don’t mesh well. I want more, you want less. I want the highs, you want the lows. Stupid seesaw not letting us get on the same plane.

See. I told you fancy writing just doesn’t fit in anywhere for this post. So disjointed and abrupt, it’s not even funny. Laughable, yes. But not funny.

 

“Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, GO!”

YEAH. LIKE IT’S THAT EASY, EH GENIUS?!

 

Homg, this back and forth playing field will be the death of me. Why can’t things ever remain constant? Why can’t things ever just move in one, focused direction? All this whizzing here and there is not helping me find my footing. The ground just disappears.

Signage is vital, it is the driving force of everything we do. Signs. When you get a few at one go though, it really does fuck up everything you’ve been gearing up to. Everything just collapses in one messy heap, because you can’t decide what the next step is.

Why is my post jumping all over the place? It’s all disjointed. Like I digress after every three sentences. Does this say something about my attention span and/or level of commitment? My mind seems to be overloading. But I want to say so much more to you, about you, for you, whatever!

I want you to understand me. Listen. Shut off your past and listen to what I have to say. Stop dissecting. I need you to understand. I have nothing to offer you except this.

Oh God, I am sick. Cure me of this.

**I think watching “Crave” earlier this month has affected me completely and I just can’t write proper anymore. Everything is just oozing “Crave”. I must stop emulating Sarah Kane. Now. With immediate effect.

Another 4am post

written in the dark this time. no deeper meaning behind that; i’m writing in my room with the lights turned off. my spelling right now is kinda shit. ah, my heart is torn between forwards and backwards. its 4am ish; i’m allowed to be emo.

hugsies and kissies. ah, i miss them both.

brain stop dying on me, i wanna write; i dont wanna sleep yet. omg, i hope calvin is fine.

wwhen’s my fairytale gonna start? soon i hope. i think my heart is gonna crack anytime soon.

will blog proper post soon. now must crash; MUKABUKU is previewing tmrw and i need aat least some sleep.

 

goodnight.

 

CAN YOU TELL I DRANK?

You see, the thing is…

If there is one thing that we want most in the world, it has got to be happiness. How we get it – whether through love, through shopping, through random facts of life – is immaterial. Most of the time we fight for our happiness without considering anything else. We’re selfish that way.

I’m no exception. I want to be happy.

I mean I am quite happy.

The lazy post that probably doesn’t make any sense.

why am i still awake? well, because i was about to sleep when a thought came to mind. and i feel i need to blog about it, or just blog, to get it out of my system. that’s what I do half the time when a sudden idea pops up and keeps me from getting to bed.

it’s 3-friggin-50 am. i’m groggy and tired. I wanna go to sleep, so brain will you please be quiet?

I think I should start tagging/labeling my posts. My personal entries vs my verbal diarrhea and creative non-venting type posts. People tend to confuse themselves. Some posts have nothing at all to do with me; i write freely, not to say that whatever that’s written is part of my friggin biography. Like, please people. If i felt as emo as all my posts, i’d probably self-destruct.

I just enjoy writing. and it so happens that writing emo comes easy for me. don’t blame me maaaan.

ok i totally forgot what thought it was that was keeping me from falling asleep. that’s good. but now i’m hooked on this labeling posts thing. Maybe i should. Then people would know whether to praise my writing or to empathise with my emotional state. it’s getting annoying, telling people again and again that I’m okay and that heartache isn’t getting the best of me and emo is just the way i write fiction.

oh god, this post is so sad. what do you expect? it’s me at 3.59am.

damn, i need sleep. go away panda eyes.

Ok before i publish this, i should read through for fuckups and typos and all. but i’m so sleepy, so i can’t be effed into doing it. SORRY FOR THE TYPOS AND GRAMMATICAL ERRORS, WHICH I’M SURE ARE EVERYWHERE.

Nighty night.

To be loved.

I don’t really know how to phrase what I’m thinking of at this moment. I’ve got the idea in my head, but I don’t know how to word it out so that it will sound less ugly.

I think I may have never loved you.

Yeah, what the fuck right? I mean, a few posts back I was all over you and now I’m claiming that perhaps I never really felt anything for you. Then again, I am eighteen and isn’t that how hormones work at my age? But I digress.

I think I was in love with the IDEA of being with you. We would have all these things together and in my head it seemed so simple, so perfectly fitting. You could help me come to terms with taking risks while I would help heal you of all those insecurities. A modern fairytale. Minus all the years of hard work and complexities of human nature. Ish.

Maybe I liked the idea of having someone as kind as you taking care of me. Or perhaps it was the notion that you could change my childish ways. Or it could have been the fact that you were just such a catch and I would have been stupid to have not made a move. To be honest, I don’t really know for sure and when I think back, I can’t remember why I did and said half the things I did and said. I think I might have tried to win you over, because you do deserve to be won over in that sense.

**********************************************************************

Now that I don’t see you as often, I’m healing up mighty well. I’m adjusting to not having our daily conversations and I rarely give you much thought while I go about my day. So, maybe, I never loved you. Maybe it was just a couple of months worth of (dare I say confess it) desperation and deprivation. Maybe all that ‘want’ inside me made the idea of a relationship with you just that much more appealing.

No offense meant. I mean, seriously, any girl would be lucky to have you. Really, lucky. Its just I’m wondering if I fell for you as a person or you as my would-be fairy tale Prince Charming.

Either I love you and love you still, loved you but am letting go or I never loved you at all. Whatever it is though, I can’t deny that I actually really miss you. Crush or no crush, I miss the time we spent together. Like, really really bad. I miss you so much.

Come back :(

confusedalterego?

See, my heart is not made of such stuffs. It’s made of tissue, not love. It’s made of muscles, contracting and relaxing constantly, not a core of passion that leaps whenever I see you. That heart which you hear of so often is not my heart. My heart is that of a realist. It doesn’t beat for you; it beats for me. Me. It’s pumps blood through my veins and mine alone. It does not, I repeat, beat for you. It’s a heart full of things that keep me alive; it is not a heart full of love.

And if let’s say you were to pass on, my heart would continue to keep me alive. Still contracting, relaxing, doing it’s job. I am not tied to you and neither is my heart. My heart is independent and whether your heart lives or dies, it does not matter because my heart will continue to pump. It does not rely on you and it will not fail me because I am what matters, not you. And when you are dead and gone, my heart will not cry for you. My eyes might, but not my heart. My heart will remain objective.

Of late, my heart beats fast and slow at the same time. I blame you. You and your heart, you stupid incompetent heart. STOP INTERFERING. Leave your heart out of this as I am leaving mine. We cannot, we must not. Our hearts are not one, they are two and that’s how they shall remain. My heart cannot beat two different rhythms, it’s not prepared for that and neither is yours. Our minds may think the same, but our hearts don’t work that way. So keep your heart out of it.

My heart, it creeps inside, hurtling its way to the surface every now and then, reaching to see you. And I suppress it, yes that’s what I do. Don’t ask me why; you should know why!

Because if it hurtles any further up, it will all come spilling out. Everything. It will spill out and you will know everything about this little black heart of mine.

My heart is that of a realist who doesn’t know what is real.

Again, writing for the sake of it. Not personal venting.

And there are times when I think I may still love you, but say nothing at all because I know it’s not real. And sometimes, I want to kiss you when I look at you, because you are beautiful that way. And other times, I find myself wondering what life would be with you (or without you completely) but stop because the thought is just so hard to imagine. And at times I find myself hoping to be alone with you, just to keep you for myself, even when I know it’s selfish.

I hope that when we’re old, we’ll still hold hands. And we’ll still laugh when I call you a funny name. And I’ll make you breakfast in bed and you’ll thank me even when the toast is burnt and the coffee sweet. And I’ll kiss you before you leave for work and rub my lipstick stain off your cheek. And I’ll miss you when your car pulls out from the driveway and find stupid reasons to call you and hear your voice when you’re at work. And I’ll get mad at you when you forget to do the laundry but forgive you in the end because you’re too charming for your own good. And we’ll look back at all our photos and smile, and wonder if there were things we could have done better. And we’ll dance in our living room whenever we hear our favorite song and cry when it gets to the emo bit. And we’ll stay in every Saturday night and watch our favorite movies and not wish for anything more. And at night when we crawl into bed and lie side by side, we’ll wish that time would stay still because we know time is against us.

All this and more, I wish to have with you.

Time Management

I lack sooooo badly. I’m semi-floating along just about now. Omg, death comes in the form of exams and MukaBuku rehearsals. Gaaaahh. If I don’t find a way to make time, I’m going to end up in a ditch somewhere.

So i’m thinking of maybe joining IndicineLive cycle 3. I mean, I might audition, depending on when auditions are for a separate production. I don’t know. So far, things have been lined up, but none of them are concrete. Hopefully I’ll find out by the end of august.

TWO WEEKS TO PERFORMING IN SINGAPORE BIATCH! And yet, my lines for the last script is really messed up. Oh gosh, why can’t i have an in built turbo memory processor? I need to get memorising out of the way.

Now to finish my dinner and get my beauty sleep. Still recovering from Sweatshop fatigue. Gahhh.

No more I love you.

And I thought that I would get over you.

And no it’s not helping.

My damns have been brought down and I just can’t stop.

I can’t stop feeling like I’m falling.

You’re addicted to someone who will never be yours.

It’s not helping and it never will be ok because you are not mine. And I don’t want to know about your lovelife. And I can’t help but feel like fuck when you talk about it because i know I’ll never get in.

Oh just leave me alone!

Sweating it Out at SWEATSHOP.

I’m all drained. Physically, mentally, emotionally.

Oh God, so many raging emotions over the weekend. Love, lust, frustration, pain, pride, anger, guilt, nostalgia, joy, insanity.

Note that I never want to perform a self-written piece if it’s was written based on a personal experience. I performed that on Saturday night and I’m still not over it. I’m travelling around with a very heavy heart. I guess it’s because what was said in the script was basically what I desired most to confess. And in a weird way, I kinda did confess in real life through that piece (if i’m not making sense, it’s the lack of sleep talking).

I am going to get over you. I am. And I will. I’ve slowly but surely been getting rid of all the little things i’ve kept around that remind me of you. I need my own space now and I need happiness.

AND ON A SEPARATE NOTE IF YOU MISSED CRAVE, YOU MISSED OUT BIG TIME. It has touched me more than any other show so far.

I’m always amazed when a play can be so simple and yet still affect me. well that’s the thing about theater isnt it; just 5 words of script can sometimes reach out and touch a person so deeply that it changes something in them. That’s what happened to me tonight.

I know this sounds fucking corny and stupid and hypocritical and arggghh, but Crave has made me want to forgive my mother.

Oh Bobdamnit.Fuck.

PS: This years sweatshop blew last year’s one out of the water. Really, homg, good stuff. I hope I get to work with them again.

This is not my reality.

Disclaimer : The following is complete bollocks, not some emo venting on my part. I just felt like writing and this is what came out of it.

Turn around and just run, run, run. Run till you’re out of breath and till every muscle hurts, till you tear at every tissue. Run till your head spins and you can’t remember the last time he held your hand. Run till you feel the ringing in your ears drown out the million times he whispered words against your neck. Run till you forget everything but the feeling of your own heart beating strongly against your chest, reminding you that you live for you and not anyone else.

Run till the sun sets again and again because if you stop too soon, he’ll catch up to you and then he’ll have you. And that is what will hurt the most. He’ll have you easy, and you’ll realise that no matter how fast your muscles work, no matter how big the strides you take, you will never be able to save yourself. And he’ll realise it too.

So if I were you, I would keep running. You’ve only got one chance. You’re almost home free, all you need to do is continue running. Sweat out the memories. Sweat out the pain. Keep running till you reach that breaking point. Run till you pass that breaking point by a mile. Run till you break all expectations. Run till you don’t know where you are anymore. Run till you are completely clear of every trace of him.

I’m so close. I’m almost there. But the problem is my feet refuse to budge. He’s got a hold on me. No, no he doesn’t. I can outrun him. I’ve already gotten so far. I just need to push a bit more.

But I can’t.

I can’t anymore. I can outrun him and all the memories, but I can’t outrun myself. All this running is fucking pointless because for whatever unexplainable reason it is, there’s a part of me that just won’t let go.

Something always brings me back.

Oh, it feels so good to write freely again.

I am still young and I have time to wait.

I am not a two year old who cries when she doesn’t get the toy she wants or the little girl who cries for the ice cream she couldn’t buy or the 13 year old who bawls because she went to a Jonas Brothers concert but couldn’t get autographs. I once upon a time may have been slightly similar but I am not anymore.

I’m coming to terms with a lot of things. Like the fact that I won‘t always get what I want, that people don’t always want the same things as I do, that a chance missed isn’t the end of your whole life, that some things just weren’t meant to be in place of greater things and that love, no matter how hard you try, cannot be forced or quickened.

I am eighteen and I’m wondering if I’ve been a bit slow to realise that life doesn’t play out the way you want it to. Life throws you curve balls all the time and it’s not about the good times, it’s about the lessons. The past one week has just been an eye opener to truths that have helped me get a step closer to acceptance and truths that have been rude awakenings, but still important. Truths that have broke my spirit and truths that have made me smile.

I am eighteen and I do not know what love is. I do not. Familial, yes. But when it comes to a relationship sense, I will admit that I just don’t know. I try, I try to search for it but maybe I’m not supposed to. I throw the word love around so much, I think I tell at least three friends or colleagues that I love them each day. Usually as a form of gratitude or just weaseling my way out of some sort of silly mistake. I’m starting to wonder if all my kidding has distorted my view on love. I need to find better grounding.

I am eighteen and I’ve got a lot more responsibilities now. I need to start planning what I want to do with my life. I need to start taking care of my health because I should be old enough now to know my own body. I shouldn’t be reckless and I definitely should continue giving my dad his due respect and I should appreciate him more for all he’s been doing for me and my siblings.

It’s hard for me; I believe at times that I am still a child; carefree, impressionable, naive and full of passion, raging emotions. Then sometimes, I feel like I need to be a different person, like I need to morph into someone who is wise, who can keep her emotions under control, someone who has a sure plan and knows that things will go wrong along the way, but doesn’t panic because there is a safety net. I am trying to strike a balance. I am just eighteen, how am I to be all those traits at once?

I found out that I am a person who needs regular attention and care. Left to my own devices I can spiral into quite a bad state of mind and become quite self-destructive. I am now aiming to be a different person. I want to be independent and content. I want to be able to deal with disappointing news by looking on the bright side. I’m not saying I want to be a lone wolf, but I want to feel as comfortable alone as I do when I’m with a friend, sitting in his/her car talking or listening to good music. I want to feel comfortable in my own skin and confident with who I am.

I am still trying to come to terms with all of this. I’m a big girl now and at this moment I am feeling uplifted and hopeful, despite having troubling revelations hurled my way. I will try to support that people who have said no to me, appreciate the ones who’ve helped get me this far and try my best to not picture the kind of love you see in movies, but the kind of love that you get in real life. The kind of love that makes you a better person at the end of the day.

So. This is for you, my family, my friends, random people I’ve met who’ve become a great part of my life, my exes and my enemies. Thank you for the laughs, the tears, and, most of all, the lessons.

Mood : Grateful :)