Thursday, February 18, 2010 ♥
So yesterday/last night/this dawn, I found out that my secondary school friends never really thought of me as a "friend" to begin with.
Not that it really matters, after all it's a rare occasion that your secondary school friends stay friends with you for life. Admit it.
But honestly, I'm a human too, aren't I? Then, I can feel betrayed too, aren't I? I can be hurt too, aren't I?
Don't call me your friend if you don't really mean it. Don't tell me that we're all friends if you don't really mean it. Don't. Really, don't. Don't do them, if in the end, you're gonna mention just some people as your friends anyway.
And somehow when I was ironing my shirt, I got this idea to create a personal project during my 3-months break with my college friends to create a video, asking people's opinions about what a friend is, and/or how a friend should be.
Because really, it hurts. It hurts to see your supposedly "friends", who you'll stand up for when they're in a fight, call your other friends "friends" and either purposely or purposelessly leave you out.
Because seriously, I'm tired to be hurt by my "supposedly friends". By these 3 girls I thought were my friends. It's like, just what the hell happened? I thought the FIVE of us were friends, and here it's like I suddenly disappeared from the surface of the earth and suddenly there are only FOUR of you guys?
Sick. I'm sick. I feel sick. I seriously do. I hate to admit it, but it's sickening.
But then again, this is it. This is what it's like, most of the time. And I just happen to be in that "most of the time" case. Teenage years. Secondary school years. High school years. Whatever you wanna call it. Everyone's superficial, everybody's fake. Everyone tries too hard to "fit in" and everybody lies. ADMIT IT.
Y'see, this is like... a chuunibyo. That means an, "Eighth grader disease".
But yeah. TL;DR, I'm thinking about creating a video, where people answer a simple question: WHAT IS A FRIEND TO YOU, AND WHAT IS HE/SHE SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE. The answer can be thoughtful, or spontaneous, or hilarious, or abstract. Anything.
...but yeah. That's still just a plan. I'd be glad if I have help though.
live the glam @ 3:42 AM
Sunday, January 24, 2010 ♥
I suppose I have this low self-esteem syndrome. So low, to the point that sometimes I pity myself. And I hate myself for that stupid self-pity.
Sometimes I wish to be the girl who leaps through time [and yes, I'm totally making a movie reference here. I'm currently torrent downloading this movie. Can't wait.]. Then maybe I'll go back to the past. And then... maybe, just maybe, I'd tell him, "Hey, in the future, there'll be a bunch of girls who has this affectionate feeling towards you. Maybe those feelings are different, in terms of amount, or way. But point is they will hold affectionate feelings towards you. And I'm one of that girl."
Five minutes would be enough. I guess. Yes. It would be enough. Just enough to say those. And then know the past him even if it's just a little.
But then again. I'd be scared to get hurt, won't I? I'm just a cowardly, sidelines-viewer right?
Then again. I suppose that that's normal. Of course. It's normal.
We are all humans, after all. And human are egoists. And thus we are all egoists. And ego is a normal thing. Then, I suppose I'm normal?
Wow. See, aren't you pitying yourself again? Stop it.
Loneliness will soon set in again. For 19 days, try to hold on.
Yes, self. Hold on. Hold on. It's okay. You can do it. You can cope with it. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. It won't be too lonely. It won't.
February 12. Let's hope it won't be long. Let's hope it won't be too long.
live the glam @ 11:05 PM
Monday, December 14, 2009 ♥
"When we entered middle school, we thought we were adults. We thought we could do anything. We cried, laughed and screamed. We thought we knew everything there was to know about the world. But we were really just kids, protected by our parents and sheltered by society. There was no true sadness, true joy, nor true anger in our lives."
~ Bokurano by Kitou Mohiro
How painfully true.
More than half of my middle school/secondary school life was that way too.
live the glam @ 4:16 PM
Thursday, December 03, 2009 ♥
Sometimes I think it's kinda tough being a girl. I don't wish to be a girl sometimes. Or hey, maybe it's just me--regardless of my gender. Of course, it's not because I think it's tough to choose your outfit, or to put on make-up, or to... I don't know. I never was on diet before--all thanks to mom that my body never gets fat no matter how much and what I eat. Anyway. Point is, it's not that hard for me to be a girl... when it comes to vanity.
It's about feelings. Sometimes, I wish I would stop feeling this way. Feeling so confused. Am I in love? Am I just idolizing him? What? But then again, those matters happen to both genders, right?
Please heart, stop being this way.Right now, I can only describe this feeling as love. Like. Affection. Whatever you wanna call it. I remember this feeling. It's not like this is my first crush. But this does be the strongest one in my whole measly 16 years of life.
When he's sad, I wanna be the one beside him. When I found out that he broke up with his ex last year, I wish I was there. When I know he's bored, I wanna tell him, "Hey, let's hang out with me."
I know it's impossible for me--age gap, first of all. It's not as small as you think it is. It might not be a worry if I'm living back there in the olden days, in my parents' era. But now, it does be a big deal.
Then. Differences. A lot of them. Cultural backgrounds [not that I can't overcome that, but yeah]. Personality [why, of course]. Images and reputation.
From my point of view [which might be wrong, since I don't really know much of him anyway. Stupid of me to fall for him even if I don't really know him that much, I know, but hey, I can't help it right?], he had always been friendly. Always so kind and nice. And outgoing. He has many friends and acquaintances.
Heh. And me? I never was that friendly. I mean, I can talk to strangers. But I tend to be really quiet to people I don't know. I'm random. Really random. Freaky [Not that I hate being random or freaky but yeah]. I don't have that many friends. A lot of acquaintances, maybe, but not many friends. I'm not that kind and nice. I swear I could hurt people in the worst way possible. I'm darker than what people think I am.
Should I just give it up then? But I hate giving up. I freaking hate giving up for anything and everything. I know that I realize that one day, I'll have to give up for something.
"Even if you never give up, and you told yourself that, one day you'll meet the time when you have to give up, when you just
have to give up on something." I said that once. Back there a few years ago. When I was picking up pieces of my heart and mend them back. [and I know that that sounds cheesy, but that's the phrase that can describe my situation back there, exactly.]
But hey, again, I hate giving up. I always was a coward, though--in terms of relationships like this, I always give up. Always. This time, I don't wanna. This time, this feeling is stronger than ever before. More precious, dearer.
It does hurt me a little, knowing how close it is to impossible, but hey. I've done almost all the impossible thing possible anyway--breaking the family's tradition by taking arts; learning Japanese instead of Chinese and refusing to learn the latter; setting up a goal of working in Japan and making my mom's company a back-up instead of cousins who set up a goal of inheriting their parents' companies. A lot more.
This time, from now on, I won't give up in the middle of the way.
Until I'm really pressed and forced to, then I will. I don't want to give up anymore. I'll have to admit that I'm sick of giving up.
It sounds petty, isn't it? Sounds like a measly, petty, unimportant teenage love, felt by a 16-year-old while teenagers usually exaggerate how they feel. I don't. I dislike exaggerating my own feelings. I describe my feelings the way they are. I don't go, "Shit, I want to just die because I'm rejected. What a jerk. I wanna die. I wanna die. I wanna die." and cry everyday. I don't. I cried a little. Then I pick myself back up and move on. I don't whine when I was rejected.
Not because I think feelings or relationships are unimportant--just that there's time to stay and break down, and there's time to move on. Life goes on--it doesn't just stop there because you just broke up or got rejected. People told me the way I think--
that way, is more mature than the average 16-year-old thinks. Maybe it's because of the number of older siblings I have--who knows.
I don't fall for guys just because I think they're hot, or sexy, or cute, or cool, or something like that. I don't. Or else, you'd call me "falling for Takuya" if I'm that way. I don't want guys to be my boyfriend just because they're good-looking or attractive or adorable. I don't want to get a boyfriend just because I think that they're rich or anything like that.
Instead, I tend to fall for guys who are kind, who has a good personality. I tend to fall more for their personality. Guys who are kind, and nice, and fun--they're the type I've always fallen for.
I don't accept guys who ask me out just because I'm that desperate to have a boyfriend. I hate toying with feelings. I know I'm capable of making a guy fall for me. I know I can put on make-up, make myself pretty, teach myself how to be witty and funny. And I'm not being narcissistic either.
But I don't want to. I don't want to be so desperate as losing my self-identity and becoming someone else who isn't me. I don't want to be so desperate to get a boyfriend that I'll accept any guy who ask me out. And furthermore, I don't wanna get a guy who can't accept me the way I am. Instead, I want a guy who can accept me the way I am, who understands me even if I'm silent. It might be hard, it might be impossible, but there
is some point in trying anyway.
And I know he's capable of that. I know he's capable of accepting the people around him the way they are. I know he's capable of understanding people. I know he's capable to understand me, and accept me the way I am.
I might be wrong. But hey, that's what I see.
For now, I'll still be loving him. I'll still be holding onto this feeling. I'll still hold it precious and dear. And I'll cherish it. Forever.
Even if I have to fall out of this love one day. Even if I end up with another guy. Or end up alone. Even if I have to give up one day. I'll cherish it. Forever.I promise.
live the glam @ 3:25 PM
Tuesday, November 03, 2009 ♥
Originality: Questioned.Yeah. It's a little funny how almost every single human on earth seem to think that they're "original" and "creative" when actually~ not really. Not that I'm saying that I'm THAT original and creative, of course. But I'm simply sick of humans who think that they're the most original creature on earth ever [I've met 3 so far, and that's enough to annoy me].
Think about it: how many adolescent girls who think that they're the prettiest creature, with the most original Facebook pictures and poses are there? How many people cut their hair according to trend, and yet still act like they're original? How many people, shamelessly, feign and boasts originality, going around and telling people and themselves about how original they are?
I mean, okay, sure, we can live our lives according to the principle that, "Everybody is special. Even if there are two identical twins with the same face, birthday, body size and all those things, they are still different from each other." but seriously.
Think about it again: of course, you're still you. But do you still dare to call yourself the most original person on earth just because you own a MacBook? Do you still dare to call yourself the most original person, even after you copied people's ideas? Even after you copied that celebrity's hairstyle? Even after you directly copy-pasted someone's line and claim it as your own? Even after being so unoriginal by copying a lot of stuffs in your life, "just to fit in the society"?
To still call yourself original even after you did a lot of copying, that kind of attitude, I think it's really pompous, extremely shameless.
I myself, I don't actually dare to call myself original--no. Why? Most of my punkloli clothes designs, they're either inspired, or has some resemblance to h.NAOTO's.
Think about it again. Originality: questioned.
Me too. I'm still thinking.
live the glam @ 12:27 AM
Friday, October 30, 2009 ♥
Please. Don't tell me to cheer up. Don't demand for me to cheer up. Don't ask me to cheer up. Don't freaking telling me how I need to cheer up. Don't. Just. Freaking. Don't.
Especially just because you find it depressing.
Why don't I have the right to have my own down moment? Why can't I be down just for a while? The hell with that?
Please, just leave me alone right now. I'd turn into the "me" you know in a short while. But for now, please just STFU and leave me alone.
Because to tell the truth, only Feli's of help right now.
live the glam @ 11:20 PM
Saturday, October 24, 2009 ♥
I fucking hate panic attacks. And I hate it even more when I'm have them in a public place, when I'm having dinner with my friends. Isn't that horrible?
I hate myself sometimes. Over-ventilating, over-panicking, suddenly crying and feeling like I'm breaking down. I feel so stupid, like I'm holding to what little jagged shred of sanity that I doubt that I even have. Am I hanging off a tiny frail little string? Schizophrenic, bipolar, anything--which do I suffer from? I don't want to make anyone worry, but if it continues like this, it will make everyone worry even more right?
I once said that I'd move on even if the path I'm walking is rocky and thorny. I once said that no matter what, I'd continue walking even if I have to get cut along the way. But right now, I have to stay in the step I took and being left behind, right? Maybe the cut I just received is too deep, and it's hurting me so much I can't walk?
Do I really fit this sector? It feels like everyone have something they're good at. Donna with her graphic designing skills. Nico with his digital arts skills. Biondi with his technical skills. Millie with her fine arts skills. Nadia with her neatness and Mel with her graphical skills and diligence. And they all, they make me feel like I having nothing to show. I feel like I'm useless.
Why am I an attention whore? Why do I love to show-off? I fucking hate that part of me. Is that human nature? I'm sure it isn't.
Why do I pressurize myself? Why should I frustrate myself? Why should I stress myself? Why should I feel like I'm the only stupid ones? And above all, why should I feel like this, like a stupid person?
Am I stupid? Maybe. Am I pressured? Perhaps. Am I nervous? Probably. But above all, am I envious? I'm pretty sure I am. I don't want to show this ugly side of me to anyone else. Isn't it creepy if you're the one who have a friend who gets constant panic attacks? It's creepy, don't you think? I don't want to be pitied, above all -- it makes me feel even worse.
I feel so close to breaking down. But I can't right? If I continue like this, I'll get spoiled right? I feel so angry to myself. I feel so horrible, pathetic. I hate myself for being emo like this.
I feel like hugging someone--
anyone, and cry. But above all, I need my 3rd sister. She's probably the one who can understand my so well. She's the one who understand how mentally sick I am. She's the one I really want to hug.
The me who's so desperate to hug someone. The me who's so desperate to feel being loved once again. That kind of thing, that kind of me, I feel so stupid. I feel like that's so pathetic.
I fucking hate to feign normalcy. What's normalcy, anyway? How am I usually, when I'm "normal"? I don't understand. I don't get it.
I need to stop now.
Hardly breathing. Keep breaking down. I need to fucking stop.
live the glam @ 8:27 PM