teacups & lutecest

Being (temporarily) out of college, time is starting to melt for me. I feel like I’m with Dali’s melting clocks, where suddenly that concept of losing track of time where days and hours just melt into one another is actually becoming a reality. It doesn’t help in the slightest that my circadian rhythm is fucked up and I’m now sleeping through the days and completely nocturnal. My grandmother calls me a pontianak – that would be a Malaysian vampire, of sorts (but you know, completely unsparkly and unsexy).

It’s kind of nice to be awake early now.

It’s one of those rainy mornings, where it’s been raining constantly through the night and your room is too cold for you to pad across to the door (ack, marble floors) and the sound of rain falling mixes with the sound of children singing nursery rhymes next door. It’s also a morning where I have no tea.

I can’t express to you how much this infuriates me. I found 10 different types of tea this morning, everything from a jar of chai masala to Twinning’s blackcurrant black tea to some odd blend of Jasmine and countless types of green tea. However, I don’t drink any of those (green tea is only acceptable iced or hot at a Japanese restaurant in the afternoons or at dinner) – I’m a stickler to my routine and I like a steaming hot cup of English Breakfast in the mornings, three sugars and a dash of milk.

Alright, so maybe that’s just a way for me to say that I’m undeniably prissy about my tea and very picky. On the other hand, I do have some toast with chocolate peanut butter toast and coffee. It’s not tea, but it’ll do.

I haven't slept.

I spent the whole night downloading music and movies, then having a personal marathon session of the Nolanverse Batman trilogy. Now I'm watching Watchmen, and in between I've been looking at makeup tutorials, inspiration photos and reading a whole lot of fanfiction. The new Bioshock Infinite DLC is out, Burial At Sea Episode 1.

Now, no spoilers here but the Bioshock series is rather personal to me. I spent the entire series bonding with my friends and lovers over it and its played a rather integral part towards my psyche. My current glasses were based off of Sofia Lamb's, I have a deep love for Robert and Rosalind Lutece and Elizabeth's evolution as a character were infinitely fascinating for me (pun unintended). Looking back at how it helped shape my outlook on life and some of my more... stubborn thought patterns, it's one of those games that change you.

Knowing that Andrew Ryan's philosophy was based on Ayn Rand's Objectivist philosophy makes me remember late night conversations with Azani about how much he hated her. Sofia Lamb's Collectivism leads me to drawing comparisons between that and Asian society. Even the Lutece twins and their odd way of thinking (thank you, Voxophones) had no small degree of effect on me.

So to anyone who says that pop culture is meaningless, that video games just rot your brain - I disagree. I think my life is all the richer for them.

I'm having the week from hell.

Because I really want to say:

"I'm upset because I can't deal with so little affection and communication. I feel like you are neglecting me because you could come running when Kylie called but you can't set aside time for me. I don't know how to talk to you anymore because you always tell me that I'm too negative when I try to explain how I feel. I don't like being told not to be clingy because when I'm not, you assume I'm cheating on you. I don't know what to do but I want to talk this out."

But I can't do that. I feel emotionally invalidated.

It's tough when you feel like everyone's out to get you, when you feel that no one is on your side. I know I have some people who support me but - when one of them is your (until recently estranged) ex-boyfriend who went through a similar experience and broke up with his neglectful girlfriend and your older aunt who knows this kind of situation, the odds are certainly not in your favor.

It's painful, to say the least. I can't talk to you, though. I don't think I can survive being shoved away again. 

fashionizing

While at Gong Cha today, I saw this one girl and I was just absolutely fascinated by her outfit. A sheer white button down with billowy sleeves, blue-and-white printed shorts, Alexander Wang-esque minimalist sandals and a classic brown satchel. I was instantly in love.

Yes, I did do my usual thing where I call out to you and compliment your outfit (like the August 2013 junior who was wearing a pair of stunning neon yellow kicks yesterday) but it really did make me think.

Printed shorts + sheer shirt are almost a style staple here in KL, and well - they look good on (almost) anyone. I'm really surprised though that her outfit caught my eye. Was it the dewy, clear skin? The messy bun? What was it about her outfit that made her stand out from everyone else? Her friends were dressed similarly, the sheer sleeveless button down, shorts/bodycon skirt. I barely noticed them though.

Given that I've been assigned a mandatory (and frankly, somewhat unwilling) three month break - maybe it's time that I myself do some experimenting.

fate?

There are times when I wonder why certain things happen. Aren't we all architects of our own destruction?

Talking to a few groups of people in college shows that right now, everyone's going through a tough time. It's odd, of course. But at the same time, I can't help - or rather, I can't do anything - but watch.

I guess that's my new role for now.

teehee.

My boyfriend is three things rolled into one. He's my best friend and confidant (1), that super-metro gay friend that helps you pick out your clothes and isn't afraid to say "girl, stop using them whitening products because you are getting TOO fair." (2) and he's also wonderfully warm, cuddly and I really would like to settle down one day with him (3).

rico.

It's honestly very strange to spend nights without my boyfriend.

I'm used to his company, whether it's feeling his sometimes too-hot body warmth with mine or to just hear the tenor notes of his voice. He never fails to leave a smile on my face, unless I'm particularly annoyed with him. I can't remember my life before him.

I could - and already have spent hours talking to him. With him, conversation never seems forced or staccato, it's always a continuous flow of thought. Passing from him to myself, the oddest part is when he finishes my sentences and I'm always pleasantly startled. He shares my eclectic music taste, seems somewhat fascinated with my tendency to swing from horrifically obsessive to the attention span of a goldfish, and appreciates whatever goes on in this strange place that I call my brain.

I love him. I really do.

As my partner-in-crime for any and all of my Despicably Devilish Plot Devices, he's my everything. I can't be jaded and cynical all the time and if the world only ever gave me one amazing thing, that would be him. I've learned more from him in the past year and a half than I learned from two people over the course of three years.

Being without him now gives me time to reflect and look at him, really look at him - because I rarely ever get to do so. I know he's observing me as much I do him but at the same time, I never really get to form coherent commentary because I'm busy living the moment. I never did that before, with anyone else. They made me retreat into my own head and ponder memories I had with them, since the reality was relatively dull or repetitive. Perhaps this is the spark I've been looking for, someone who would inspire me to live. Someone who would challenge my self-imposed limits and test me so thoroughly that I force my way through them, like a butterfly from a chrysalis.

The love of my life is an amazing, wonderful man who decided to take a risk on me. I can never thank him enough for that. If you're reading this, you know I love you.

parapraxis

When it comes to being swamped with work, I don't deal so well. I'm quite panicky and prone to anxiety attacks when things don't go according to plan.

I'm your classic control freak.

I like having absolute control over everything I can - whether it be my daily schedule, my work-life balance, my own image. When I don't have that, expect all hell to break loose because if everything's going to pot, I'll create something I can control.

Back to work.