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.

hurricane.

 image credit via: pacific rim wikia

Seven years ago, when I was deliberating on a 'cool scene name' (I had that phase, don't kill me) - I was debating between going with alliteration or the usage of a poison. I liked poisons, if only because the oddest things were poisonous and I was discovering my own allergies and wondering why shellfish gave me weird rashes. I had a strange fascination with poison and how the most basic household items were poisonous (don't drink bleach kids, or eat soap). As most people can tell, I went with the latter - my current online handle of 'HannahCyanide' stemmed from there. I stuck to it for seven years, which is amazing. I also think 13 year old me had amazing music taste if an off-key voice.

The other name I wanted was Hannah Hurricane, while cool - probably wouldn't have worked too well in my favor. Also, a lot of people used hurricane in their name - either out of a devout love of Something Corporate or that one quote from 'Looking For Alaska'. If anything, I maintained being a hurricane as a sort of personal philosophy.

Initially, being a hurricane stemmed from wanting to cause as much rampant destruction as possible. All the great hurricanes were named after women due to our emotional rampages as a gender. I created and left chaos wherever I went, and that lasted me a fair bit. That's how I gained my current name, Medusa - due to the chaotic form of heartbreak I incurred in a series of boys during my stint in Hartamas. Apparently, people don't bounce back very fast from my relationships with them, it takes some time to recover and during this period, they're essentially turned to stone. Carbon-frozen versions of themselves, devoid of any and all emotion than the one they're feeling at that particular moment and they stay like that for a month or so, until they pull themselves together and find either themselves or another girl. I've stayed friends with most of my exes and while I'm normally not around during that period of time, people tend to gossip a lot and I end up hearing about it anyway. My juniors don't hear about this nickname as I usually date around my year or above.

After that, however - I strived to be like a hurricane in a different aspect. Drama may happen around me or about me but I'd like to stay calm. The eye of the storm if anything. I realize now that I don't have the best control over my emotions - most people know the story of me losing it over something a classmate said to me and throwing an oversized pair of fabric scissors at his head. Five years later and people still know about it and worry about my temper. It's mellowed out mostly, I've gone from making projectile weaponry out of stationery to physically assaulting people to screaming loud enough for half of campus to hear to having nuclear meltdowns to just... well, ranting online. Which I find seems to be perfectly acceptable, socially. It's a lot less to deal with, unless you follow me on Twitter - then you'll just be lambasted by a barrage of fluctuating emotions. You can probably use the Serizawa Scale to talk about my emotions, just measure how many tweets I use to talk about it, the frequency of the tweets, etc.

Today, Rico summed it up for me in a very simple way for me. He's good at that, he helps me take the mess that's inside my brain and distill it down to a baseline. Once that's established, I can put everything else in order.

People are either waves or rocks. Two distinct types of people. Got that? Okay, now try throwing something big at them (not literally). If their first reaction to drama is some kind of cautious but flat "Okay..." then they're rocks. If their reaction is more along the lines of "Whoa, wait. Why?" - then they're waves.

Rocks are people who don't let the outside world bother them too much. It takes a lot (or the information to either concern someone close to them or come from someone like that) for something to bother them. They have ironclad defenses. You couldn't find someone better defended than if they had concentric walls built around them, 10 feet high.They don't adapt too well though, and that usually doesn't bother them. They either watch the drama or they're that one friend who can still keep their heads on straight when everyone else is flailing like a bunch of headless chickens.

Waves are people who let things get to them relatively easily. Outside factors bother them immensely. They're the type to let an insult get to them and then get all riled up because of it. However, they tend to be more fluid and adaptable when it comes to situations - they process information relatively fast and try their best to adapt to that. They're the first group of people to react to a situation. Drama tends to center around people like this.

The question is: which one do you think you are? Let me know in the comments or on Twitter.

disintegration.

image credit via: order of the good death

It's always a strange thing when friendships crumble, how do two people who were in such a strong relationship suddenly just fall apart?

Then again, friendships are like any other relationship. It might not be romantic, but there are strong ties of emotion that bind two people together and once that snaps, the friendship ultimately may not be recovered. What about best friends though? They're supposed to live and breathe the same things as you. They're supposed to be twin souls, and often they supersede that of romantic relationships because they are your constant.

It's odd.

I'm watching something fall apart, someone fight a war that they aren't completely prepared for. Then again, no one is prepared to be backstabbed. I'm being turned to for help but at the same time, I realize that I've had this happen to me so many times that I don't really know what to do anymore.

At the same time, this is war and there's no room for mercy. There are so many different pathways, so many different ways to do different things that to me, if it were up to me anyway - they'd be dead. But to them, it's dirty politics and they don't think things will escalate.

I really don't want to be right.

mirrors.

I understand image very well.

Being in a creative communications college, we're taught in Public Relations that image is a very important thing. Yes, you can be an individual - in fact, it's even encouraged. However, integrity of that image is infinitely important. You have to maintain it and be proud of it. Fluctuating between that isn't something one can afford to do.

That was my mistake before this. I was fluid in my image, aiming to fit into whatever mold I was given. Now, my image is concrete set and the only reason I can shape it is because I am my own architect. In my search for myself, I had chosen partners who were weak and undetermined in their own image. In their weakness, I lost myself.

Thankfully though, I was able to pull myself up. I've challenged my limits and I am so proud of the person I am now. I wouldn't have been able to be this person without the help of the people around me. Unfortunately, some of them dislike the person I have become and they left.

Is it because I reflect the darker parts of their personality? Is it because I took the traits that left the strongest impressions on me from them? I wouldn't know. I know some of the people out there despise how stubborn I can be. I know some of them hate the way I will call them out on what they're doing or thinking.

Ultimately though, I have the best partner possible in this. He has slowly become everything to me, so strongly intertwined with me that to break him off is to sever parts of me away. The best part is that he understands and he is willing to teach me as I am willing to learn. He doesn't judge for me for who or what I've become, but has become my confidant and strategist. I am grateful. He's made me see how the people I've tried to bring back into my life were mistakes and how some of these people have incurred damage to my own psyche. Sure, it isn't beyond repair but my personal code dictates that these people do deserve some form of vengeance. Not for what they've done per se - hindering my own growth for their personal gain is something I've overcome - but because they need to learn. They're almost begging for it. That's a new thing I've learnt.

This isn't some petty form of revenge anymore. This is war, and while I might not play to win at this point in time - after all, both sides lose in any form of war - but I do intend to show these people how much they've lost. Right now, I only have one target in mind. One particular target that's going to make all of this so sweet.

Round two, go.

power.

image credit via deviantart

I've had control issues my entire life.

No, they aren't fun.

I don't trust easily, I don't have faith easily. I didn't believe I deserved to be loved until quite recently. I have a hard time grappling with these ideas despite the long list of lovers and the somewhat consistent support I receive. I doubt almost everyone.

It's the one thing I've always wanted though.

Do you know how much it sucks when half your ex-boyfriends, when they're done with you or when you leave - they say: she never deserved love. I used her for sex. I used her because she isn't worth anything more than that. Can't you see that she hurt me? It doesn't matter what I think, because to these guys - I'm brilliant. I'm smart and quirky, unafraid to be myself. I have my flaws. They'll tell me I'm beautiful but in the same breath, they'll call me a manipulative bitch who's so stubborn because nothing goes into her head. They'll also go out of their way to "purposefully inform" the person I'm with because they 'need' to warn them. In turn, that usually makes the new boyfriend extremely aggravated and it's a contributing factor to me messing up (out of misery and demotivation) or them finding problems with me.

Do you understand how much it hurts to know that to half the people out there, you're nothing but a trophy girlfriend? Or another notch on the bedpost (except maybe, you'll remember me because I'm so out there and you can tell everyone you fucked me).  

Intellectually intimidating, one senior in college described me as. Looks like an airhead at first, obsessed with fashion and makeup and probably trashy TV shoes. Then you open your mouth and realize... this girl has a brain. One that she actually uses! At the same time though, I wouldn't date you or have a relationship with you. You'd be like that amazing one night stand that you never forget for the rest of life, but that's it.

That isn't a compliment, as it is a backhanded insult.

My family does (more or less) the same thing to me. Underneath all that wildness, she's a good kid or You're amazing and talented because you write, dance and sing. The next day: you're not talented. You're nothing. You can't do anything we can be proud of. If we can't show you off... what do we tell our friends?

They don't realize how much that hurts and of course, I stop opening up to them and in turn, they wonder why I'm so two-dimensional. Why I'm so secretive. Why I'm so quiet about myself. I've become a shallow construct of who I am in front of them and thankfully, they don't question my image openly. I only hear whispers of it from time to time, when they think I'm asleep or not home.

image credit via tumblr

I worked hard to craft the person I am now.

I am an amalgamation of all the people who I've ever come in contact with, like a Final Fantasy blue mage - I mimic their traits, the ones they impart to me the most. My father's side of the family gave me an iron will, a free spirit with a need to express myself, a variety of facial expressions that seems very strange to see on thirteen different faces. My mother's side granted me a silver tongue, the need to be on top - a strong competitive streak and one that decides what is best for us, whether it may or may not be true. Both sides are vastly opinionated with a distinct knack for getting into trouble, somehow our superiors dislike us for what we bring to the table. It's not so much as a justice streak but one that stands up for ourselves and what we believe in, despite the varying moral codes of conduct.

Out of the four significant relationships I've had out of everyone, I picked up from them certain traits that they don't quite like in me.

Rifdi was the one who told me to be myself and to be fiercely myself, unapologetic in the face of a world that wants to mold us into something utilitarian. Whether I was presenting a facet of me or the entirety of me, I never had to apologize and those who didn't like that could walk out of my life, permanently. He was the one I loved the most from my past - my first love, you could say; and he was the one who taught me to rein in my whirlwind of emotions but to explore what could be called the taboo sides of the human psyche. I could be unashamed in what I liked and was interested in but still possess the self-respect to smile each time someone tried to beat me down.

Seth taught me to embrace my political family, to utilize the skills that come from being born and bred as politicians and diplomats and utilize them to enhance my own image. To spin your own image is one that spits in the face of society as a creator, but I refuse to be a blank canvas for them to paint except in the most shallow ways.

Kris gave me unbending stubbornness and taught me to take my anger and turn it into a force to be reckoned with. I've always been angry, reckless and more than willing to get into a fight with people twice my size but he was the one who challenged me to do something with it. He also gave me a sense of empathy for people, as I learned to reach out and help those who could benefit from my mistakes.

Rico is the person I'm with now, and frankly - I am still learning and picking off traits where I see fit. He taught me internal discipline, how to take everything and push them down under a sea of calm. I achieved serenity, recently and patience, something I've always had a problem with. He also taught me that if I were to be a monster as society dictates, I could be the biggest one out there. Taking my anger and channeling that aggression into careful plotting that would actually amount to something. I learned that I don't mind standing equal to him, that I'm not thinking in terms of alpha and beta but to stand side-by-side and take the world on together. I learned to respect myself, finally and to have the high standards my family encouraged me to have as a child. He also taught me the concept of self-love, that is if I did not love myself - how could I love anyone else?

I've learned to take care of myself and be proud of that, for I can't take care of anyone else if I don't do the same to myself. It's not a matter of ranking - who comes first, second or last. It's whether you can shift that priority and accurately gauge if you can afford to strengthen someone else who is important to you.

I have achieved that. No matter how much my own family may criticize my physique (as they did today, I think being thin is overrated now considering how many times the words anorexic and skeleton got tossed around), I will find a way to be proud of myself. I dress, speak and act how I want to and I am proud of who I am and the titles I've garnered. I deserve that much at least. I deserve to be happy with myself.

While I won't forget the people who helped make me this way, it's not to say I won't ever get my own back ;) After all, I wouldn't be me if I didn't have a vengeful streak a mile wide. Someday, somehow - the men who have spurned me, the people who have stepped on me and the ones who pushed me down to get ahead and used me; they'll realize what a titan they've made of me and how I'll be the one looking down.

I am Lady Medusa and simultaneously, founder of the Echidna Program. Enjoy your stay.

harmless.

image credit: butterflyutopia.com

I'm not anymore.

I've come back quite rejuvenated, despite the miniature heart attack I had earlier. I'm more focused than ever and less willing to tolerate any form of bullshit that comes my way. While I might have my own set of insecurities, I am not a scapegoat for yours. If you have a problem with your boyfriend, take it up with him. If you have a problem with your boyfriend talking to me, I don't want him. I have my own, thanks.

Get off my case, and fuck off.

I'm not rebounding off anyone, despite what the confessions page might try to point in my direction. I have issued a challenge, it's true. The person I used to be wanted to fight conflict quietly, behind the scenes but I realize in a communications college where everyone is spinning their own image and attempting to maintain some degree of pseudo-professionalism, I am not going to take kindly to threats, accusations or ego trips. I will confront you if I have a problem. The only people I won't are the ones I can't reach - but then again, since I'm living life under a microscope now, my Twitter has taken to becoming a battlefield. I am a poet, by nature. Words are my weapons, to paraphrase George Wielgus. The pen will perpetually be mightier than the sword (despite my love of war).

Other than that, I have no time to deal with your penis insecurities either. I don't really care if I'm The Ex - the one you will never get over in this lifetime. I don't care if you're pining away secretly or battling some mixed emotions warring in your head. If you have a girlfriend and you're not leaving her, could you just stay with her, please. You chose her over me for a reason. If that's a shitty reason and you're having a bad time in your relationship, it's not my problem. If there's no basis for a relationship foundation and it's rocky and you need someone to get your mind off things, I don't think I'm your girl. For the love of God and all that is holy on this green Earth, buy yourself a Fleshlight if you're sexually repressed. You're dating a virgin, you chose this. Stop complaining. Sex with me was a chore anyway (to you).

I am not your fallback girl.

If you're going to perasan and terasa all my tweets, grow a pair and stop crying for mommy on Twitter. I get angry from things I hear from other people. I also decide that said people should die by getting hit by a speeding bus. However, I don't actually drive the bus. If you think I'm calling you out on something, please ask me. Those are my tweets. I won't be vague and tell you that "if the shoe fits..." - because your moral dilemmas aren't my concern. I don't control how you interpret things unless I'm the voice in your head, and I doubt there's any room for mine there. If I have become the voice in your head, you've obviously forgotten how I sound.

Stop harassing my boyfriend, thank you.

you might want to hold your breath forever.

Something snapped.

Something changed.

I'm not too sure what it was, but I feel a lot calmer. A lot more focused. This is less burning rage and more bubbling, simmering hatred. It's something that will cool down and freeze over, ensure that finally - I will get what I want.

Having sociopathic tendencies has its benefits.

A lot of people couldn't handle the fact that I barely (if ever) feel for other people. High levels of empathy, sure. Actually caring... a little harder. I don't offer my help openly or to everyone, and I'm definitely not nice in that aspect. I choose to go with concentrating my care on certain people instead of attempting to spread myself thin. I know where my allegiances lie.

Music Fridays: don't drink the kool-aid

Hey guys, welcome to Music Fridays! I'll be putting up playlists every Friday with a theme/mood to it and it's up to you guys to interpret it as such. I'm reachable here in the comments or on Twitter at @hannahcyanide. The title of this week's playlist is Don't Drink The Kool-Aid, in reference to Natalia Kills' song Controversy. This week has been a real weird one to me, with so much drama and lies, secrets and murder everywhere.

Okay, not the murder. That would be kinda fun though. I'd like that. Maybe pull an Ed Gein, turn someone's face into a lampshade, wear their skin as a shirt...

I'm going off-topic. On to the playlist!

1. Skye Sweetnam - Number One [here]
  One day you'll see me but only when your dreaming
  One day you'll say I was the one

Now, this is probably one of the biggest 'fuck you' songs out there - and it's an old one, but a good thing. I've always loved Skye Sweetnam and she's grown up from her punk-rock princess roots to something really amazing. (Check out her single 'Only Human' for some awesomeness)

2. Marina and the Diamonds - How To Be A Heartbreaker [here]
  Girls, we do, whatever it will take
  Cause girls don't want, we don't want our hearts to break

Daddy always told me I'd grow up to break hearts and get  away with murder. I'm just doing what Daddy wanted me to ;) Oh, but seriously though - this song always perks me up when I'm getting ready in the morning.

3. Ke$ha - Die Young [here]
  I hear your heart beat to the beat of the drums
  Oh, what a shame that you came here with someone

Relevant because... well. Because it is! Also, every girl needs a dance song when it comes to going out and looking for trouble. I might as well be trouble because trouble finds me.

4. Rita Ora - R.I.P. ft. Tinie Tempah [here]
  No option for, you saying no
  I run this game, just play a role
  Follow my lead, what you waiting for?
  Thought it over and decided tonight is your night

I don't play games, really. I think I'd have to be a little smarter than that to really be schooled in being sheisty (reference to that word, this article by Nancy Jo Sales: here). Besides, who did I ever play? Not you, right?

I'm harmless.

5. Fall Out Boy - Rat A Tat ft. Courtney Love [here]
  But I'll take your heart served up two ways
  I sing a bitter song
  I'm the lonelier version of you
  I just don't know where it went wrong

Other than the fact that Courtney Love features on this song, and frankly I love her - her final verse in this song is an eargasm, the lyrics seem just perfect to shout from a rooftop or during a summer drive-by. In fact, most - if not the whole album are absolutely perfect for long car trips where you sing along as the sun goes down. Another perfect line from this song:

He says "I've seen bigger"
She says "I've lit better"
And they throw the matches down into the glitter

6. The Pretty Reckless - Miss Nothing [here]
  I'm misused, misconstrued
  I don't need to be saved
  Miss slighted, I mind it
  I'm stuck in the rain

Fun fact: I get hit so much that I barely feel it anymore.

Remember that scene from The Dark Knight where Joker tells Batman to a) hit him and b) laughs when he does get hit? I do that. Another good song that's relevant is The Pretty Reckless - Hit Me Like A Man. I've also taken to messing around with Rifdi's TripWhip (that's a whip made out of fiber optic cables that light up and strobe and turn different colors to you) and I find that I can work with it. The pain that some people get when the exposed ends of the cables scrape against your skin? I don't really feel it.

7. Panic At The Disco - Sarah Smiles [here]
  You fooled me once with your eyes now, honey
  You fooled me twice with your lies, and I say

As much as someone can hurt you, maybe you become addicted to that pain. You take the pain as a sign of love. It's like Stockholm Syndrome and heck, it went both ways for a while.

No one would believe me in that respect, though.

8. Devendra Banhart - Won't You Come Over [here]
   I used to live alone, but I found you, so certain
   I’m yours to take
  Now I can’t wait for all the mistakes
  We’ve yet to make

This song is pretty quirky-cute and just a little bit twee (correct me if I've gotten my genres wrong) but it doesn't fail to put me in a good mood. I tend to hum this with a huge smile on my face, just because. Follow up with Won't You Come Home for something a little quieter.

9. Ellie Goulding - Only You [here]
  Only you can see the emptiness I feel
  When you're with me
  When everything you say I'm on my knees

I wasn't kidding when I said I was crazy.

I'm serious.

Why are you so serious?

But anyway, sociopathic tendencies and expendability and so on, ad nauseum - when someone looks into the abyss, have you ever wondered if the abyss is looking right back at them? Don't play in the deeper waters, kiddies. God knows what's in there.

Also, hey there Cthulu, can I chill with you? My pack hasn't arrived yet and I'm waiting on drinks.

10. Natalia Kills - Wonderland [here]
  I wanna show you how
  good we could be together..
  I wanna love you through the night,
  we'll be a sweet disaster!

Much like how Lady GaGa's Bad Romance is a song about being in love with your best friend and fucking things up completely (I'm serious.), this song completely rejects the conventions of the fairy-tale romance. Much how I'd like to buck the whole "please rescue me from the wolves, oh help me!" thing.

If I'm stupid enough to go running headfirst into trouble, have you ever thought that maybe I want to be there in the first place? Also, I seem to do this a lot and never learned a thing anyway. I learn OTHER things from people. Like violent tendencies, and how to plot against people I don't like (thanks Rico) and how to have an ego the size of an outer ring planet (thanks Seth) and be completely stubborn and uncompromising about it.

Anyway, protip for this playlist. Load the video, read the italicized lyrics and play the video. If it's a music video, watch and then read the liner notes. If it's a lyric video, read the liner notes while listening to the song. Rinse and repeat. I'd love your input!

open letter

I never tell people what I think of them, I tend to tell other people what I think instead. But it's never to the person themselves.

For example, I compromised two major relationships for you. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but in some pseudo-medieval romantic way - I didn't care. It was wrong, and I have apologized to the relevant parties. It's like if I was a train wreck, waiting to happen. I have loved you for the past three years, and of course - I don't expect anyone to believe me.

Such vitriol, tch.

There's actually no venom here, I'm going on things based on instinct (and I know this offends your rational and logical self, you've never liked that part because I tend to get in trouble that way) and well, it's true. I have been showing the ugliest parts of me to you but only because you stayed, I continued to do so. Not because you had to see them but those were the parts of me that I couldn't ever show anyone. I didn't trust anyone else to see them and to still accept me. How strange is that?

You weren't ever nothing.

I never spat on your feelings (oh look, a phrase I like to use) but I'll admit I'm selfish. I wanted you to be happy with me, not with anyone else. I was possessive and I'm a bit of an attention-whore when it comes to people I really care about. I will ask you: hey, should I do this? and that shows that I am asking for your opinion and it does factor in (oh no, it doesn't stop me from doing it half the time but at least I know I'll probably piss you off while I'm doing it) and it does matter. Out of some misguided pride (you know this, you know this so well), I would be flippant and I would play it off like it was nothing. It hurt when you disapproved, and I wanted so desperately to prove to you that I was something.

If I was something to you, then at least I could take whatever else anyone else was dishing out to me.

It's the sole reason why I would make you the "friend who knew where I was" if I was off venturing into things I didn't know - the night I went off with Rifdi to Rakan Muda and was somehow lost in the middle of the Flow. It's the reason I would call you at 3am to yell something completely irrelevant at you, because I had feelings I couldn't handle. It's the reason that I'll tell you I'm drinking and I'm mixing substances I really shouldn't because I'm upset.

I'm very self-destructive.

I'm a celebrity now. A celebrity in the cheapest way, known for my fashion and attitude when I haven't done anything. People have said they don't think I cut. You can tell that to the cocktail of drugs and alcohol though, I don't need the public to believe me. It's actually okay.

It's also too late to be telling you all these things, but if anyone would be able to tell you? Anyone who's heard me or had to deal with hours of my ranting, crying and brief manic-depressive episodes - they'd know I love you to no end. I'm exploring my feelings in full now and at least, I can thank you. For the longest time, I wasn't emotionally honest. I wasn't anything, I just wanted to be numb. I can't cry now, after holding back tears last night. In the middle of a family dinner, I'm told that I don't matter anymore and it felt like I didn't exist.

My family only loves parts of me but for a while, you loved all of me.

Thank you.

goodbye

Sometimes, things end.

Things end for good reasons, things end for bad reasons. Sometimes, things end just because.

Maybe I waited too long, maybe I didn't say anything soon enough. It's a lot of "what ifs" and I know I won't have closure. It's yet another one of those things I won't have closure about. I don't know how much insecurity I can build at this point. Maybe I really am empty.

I know why I'm upset, at least. I didn't get a goodbye. I never did get a goodbye. I'm swimming through the worst parts of me right now and of course that sucks. The exact moment that I fell in love all over again was the moment he walked away without a word.

I'm sad because that was my friend. Someone I considered a sister, someone I loved and wanted to help. I don't even get that though. I'm another stranger who never meant anything. I guess that's the part that hurts.

He told me that the worst part was when Mai told him he never meant anything and they never dated. You become what you hate and while I can see that was true, I wonder why this is what's happening to me.

I'm not going to sit here and hope. I'm not going to sit here and say that everything will be okay. I am okay. I'm numb, but okay. It's a feeling I'm used to. I just never thought the guy I loved for three years would walk out of my life like it was nothing.

Am I nothing?

All I have are videos and photos and memories. Even then I can't really remember how he sounds, or how he looks. Seeing him was jarring, to say the least. People don't last. At least, with me. Everyone seems to have a sell-by date where they just stop being your friend.

In that sense, I'm intangible and invisible. A ghost. The kind of person you barely remember and hell, maybe you don't want to remember me except in the worst ways.

21st December, 2012.

Today, on the 5th of July, 2013 - I lost my nickname of "Babydoll".

REVIEW: Joico Vero K-Pak Hair Color

I just re-dyed my hair!

This is my new hair color! (I'm sorry for the shitty image quality, this is from my webcam) But I'm using Joico Vero K-Pak Hair Color in 6FR (Crimson Red) with 30 volume peroxide. I'm really surprised!

Normally with your usual box dyes (I was using a L'Oreal box dye at one point), you can't really predict what color your hair is REALLY going to turn out. Salon dyes can cost me up to RM500. What's a poor college student going to do?

The last salon dye I did (that I really liked) was a L'Oreal Majirel/Majired that turned my hair the most beautiful shade burgundy. I've dyed my hair (almost) every color of the rainbow but I've always loved red the most. I can't do ginger or super bright Hayley William's red though.

Oh wait, I'm side-tracking.

So, Vero K-Pak dye in 6FR is one of Joico's Fashion series. The Fashion series is based off the fashion trends and are generally released seasonally. This time, it's red and it was a toss-up (for me) between Crimson or Scarlet. Scarlet's a little bright for me. I was at Tresses, a hair depot shop in Tropicana City Mall and it cost me RM64 for two tubes of dye + two bottles of peroxide. 30 volume peroxide is about 9%, and the thing about peroxide is that it's a mixer for your hair dye. The higher the volume, the more 'lift' in levels your hair gets - meaning, the brighter the color/lighter your hair will be. 30 vol. is pretty standard.

The women there persuaded me to buy two tubes because my hair's dry (from the seven layers of bleach and countless dyeing), mid-length and rather thick. I didn't even need two tubes, I only used one tube and there was enough in the tube for two coats of dye - for my entire head. It took about 30 minutes to dye everything and I left it in for about 50 minutes after wrapping my head in clingfilm (you could use a shower cap).

I washed out all the dye (which was pretty difficult, considering there was just so much) and worked in my favorite Ma Cherie Aqua Dew Energy Ex leave-in conditioner before blow-drying. My hair's a little dry but the color is absolutely gorgeous. It's only the first day but I'd love to see how the fade out goes. Red dyes normally only stay true to their color for about three weeks max but lets see how this goes?

questioning

I guess I'm back to actual text blogging.

I mean, I love my Twitter - but there's only so much you can say with 140 characters or less. Also, aforementioned best friend has decided to shut me out completely and while I guess it's due to assignment stress (as everyone else has been telling me), there's a lot more that I don't know.

I use "I guess" a lot.

It reminds me of a time when Seth used to harp that "for a smart girl, you sure say 'I don't know' a lot." It stings and while I'd love to admit that I don't know certain things, it hurts me a little more every time. I mean, who would want to say that? To admit that you don't know something either indicates naivete or complete ignorance or some ounce of stupidity. Is that why I adopted the whole Valley Girl thing today? Maybe.

Maybe it would be better to be completely obsessed with Starbucks and manicures and all that instead of actually thinking. I spend a lot of my time - okay, 80% of my time fixated on problems and boundaries and what to do when someone says "go here" but yells at you for it at the same time. Everyone does that, family would be the most prominent.

What to do, what to do.

scrapped together some lyrics:

I have a tune, just not any instrumentals for now.


[VERSE 1]
I got "stockholm syndrome" written on my wrist
and you're at the top of my to-do list
whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh
you caught me, frankly - so easily
I'm okay to spend my days in misery
whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh

[HOOK]
and it's easy as one, two, three

[CHORUS]
to be in love with your best friend
does it really have to end, like this
'cause I'll sing it at the top of my lungs
but would you even mi-iss, me?

to be in love with your best friend
close your eyes to play pretend, and this
'cause I'll sing it at the top of my lungs
and you might not even mi-iss, me.

[VERSE 2]
it's a push-and-pull game, all of the time
I spend half my nights wishing you were mine
whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh
pulling petals, whisper "forget-me-not"
maybe get lucky tonight while drawing lots
whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh

[HOOK]
and it's easy as one, two, three

[CHORUS]
to be in love with your best friend
does it really have to end, like this
'cause I'll sing it at the top of my lungs
but would you even mi-iss, me?

to be in love with your best friend
close your eyes to play pretend, and this
'cause I'll sing it at the top of my lungs
and you might not even mi-iss, me.

[BRIDGE] so hey, robin
this is just me, singing
"hey, wouldn't you like to be with me"
I'm just hoping that you could see

[HOOK]
that it's easy as one, two, three

[CHORUS]
to be in love with your best friend
does it really have to end, like this
'cause I'll sing it at the top of my lungs
but would you even mi-iss, me?

to be in love with your best friend
close your eyes to play pretend, and this
'cause I'll sing it at the top of my lungs
and you might not even mi-iss -

you might not even mi-iss, me.