Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Sunday, March 24, 2013
My love for reading is quite known, among my friends and family. Among people who have had enough time to talk to me. I read when I have the spare time to, when I don't. I read before I fall asleep and pick up the book again when I wake up.
I read and reread. I sometimes take my sweet time, knowing that those unread books won't run away. I read the Harry Potter books as if the words are being deleted as I read every single one of them. I let myself be consumed by the story. I let myself read from a distance, not hooked to a certain character.
I laugh, I cry, I fall in love.
But, never have I read books the way I'm doing now. The stack of books I bought in December, I'm going through them when I'm not reading an ebook I downloaded. In the past 3 weeks, I have read 8 books. I read them mostly at night. From after dinner till I go to bed, I'll be in my room with the radio turned on and a book in hand.
I get consumed by some. I cried when a character cut herself. I giggled when another got asked out by the dashing man. I felt so many emotions from reading those words just because I'm tired of facing my own. Its not fear, but just reluctance. When I read, I stop hearing that voice in my head.
Yes, the voice is back after its debut way back in 2006. How did that end? I had a breakdown, a heart break and went through a self hate phase so badly that I became quite the actor. No one noticed. Hurrah.
I wrote a lot during that time. Read as if my life depends on knowing the plot. And one day, that wretched voice decided to pack its bags and took the next plane to some holiday destination with no return ticket.
But what am I so stressed about now?
I'm .. tired of what some people think of me. I'm tired of being that person they think I am. I'm so tired of trying to fit into that being. No matter what, I'll never be that person and because of that, the voice is telling me I'm a failure.
Its carving out tiny chunks from an already fragile self esteem and god, my heart is helping. Such a traitor.
For the third was unwanted. And oh it hurts like a paper cut.
I want to heap all the blame on those people. And some of them do deserve it. But, I can't undo things, right? If I can, I would undo only one thing. Prevent the third. I was perfectly happy before that.
As I read all those books, as I read the sadness, the happiness, the arrogance of it all, I made a plan. And I really really hope it would go as planned. If it does, I would be free of that voice. I would finally be allowed to be who I am.
And when that happens, the third would eventually be forgotten.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Monday, March 18, 2013
Never have I cried with such understanding.
She had fancied Andrew Price once, before she realised that she was utterly unfit to fancy anyone; before she realised that she was laughable and strange.
The Casual Vacancy - J. K. Rowling
Friday, March 15, 2013
rusty chains of self will
creak and moan as i fight
every whisper of logic
every note of caution.
i crave for such wrongness
such short lived pleasure
such tingling sweetness
to only end up with the bitterness of guilt in my mouth.
rusty chains of self will
slip and slide off as i succumb
to meaningful looks
to whispered intentions.
i crave for such delights
such a kiss the leaves me breathless
such sinful touches
such warm trails of the forbidden
such delightful madness
to just abandon those rusty chains.
Written by Hanis in the middle of the night, between the 14th and 15th of March.
Inspired by the 3rd.
3rd of what?
I won't tell.
But you might know.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Alright. Music player on, ear plugs in. Thoughts flowing.
When I was 17, I was pretty sure of who I was. Then I went into uni and met with so many different people that I began to doubt who I was just because I did not fit in with any of those known groups. I made friends, but I never revealed the whole of me to a single one of them.
Most of them saw the bookworm, who loves to eat. A handful knew of that very short fuse of mine and they also knew that is why I often hold indifference to things around me. Just so I won't lose control.
It was about last year that I met that 17 year old girl again. So sure and confident of who she is. I learned that I no longer care about keeping friendships that make me sad. I learned that you can tell me that I'm the ugliest being in the world and I won't mind. Why? Because I used to tell myself worse things and I no longer believe those. Even when its kinda obvious I'm being overlooked, due to some physical shit, I tell myself this:
I'm gorgeous. I believe I'm gorgeous, therefore I'm gorgeous.
Justin- Cry Me a River
I have grown confident, and began to believe the above mantra. I told myself I have an amazing personality and if anyone is not willing to spend time with me, they are missing out, big time.
Yesterday, someone told me I was a future wreck. They also told me I have plenty of issues and that I clearly have no respect for myself because I'm overweight. They also said, I should get myself checked because if I don't, I'll be bipolar by the time I'm 50 due to the lack of a man's attention.
Between the lines? I'm physically, mentally and emotionally so unattractive that it is no surprise that I'm single.
Did I cry? Yes.
Did I believe them? At first.
It went on for nearly an hour, and it even went to said that the way I went on about my education is wrong. I snapped, I cut off contact and went to cry on the couch. That breathless gasps, shaking shoulders and an acid burn in the heart. It was major heartbreak all over again, this time without any love involved.
I'm better now, thanks to Mokesart and another friend. The person might have said it to help me, but it didn't. He could have been right about a small matter, but it does not justify the rest. Instead of wanting to flip him the bird, I want to thank him because it makes me respect myself even more.
Eurythmics- Sweet Dreams
From now, I won't be sad unless I let myself be. Or one of those Disney/Pixar movies.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
I know, I have been such a lazy person to even look at my blog for the past few days. I blame the boredom of my days. Of my new addiction to any tv shows that has "Gypsy Weddings" in the title or "Millionaire's Matchmaker". I also blame the books I'm reading. The people I'm talking to online. Let's just say I'm blaming everything.
I've been living a healthy eating system. Grilled, baked fish or chicken. No salt. A bit of carbs. Tons of vegetables. It was suprisingly easy to eat out, just avoid fast food and be ready to spend a bit more above your usual budget. Result: A loss of 12lbs. Yes, I shall be hotter, as a certain person told me.
Just as I was thinking its easier than I thought, I was put on a sugar blockage diet. Or something that is done for 2 weeks, to retrain my taste buds to hate sweet things. I don't have a sweet tooth. I just like baking and devouring a bar of dark chocolate as if I'm seducing someone with the sounds of pleasure.
But, I'm on the second day and everything Mama cooks, which I usually won't even care for, looks so good. Why? First three days, I can only eat eggs and tofu. No condiments, no carbs. Its pretty hard. The good thing, I'm good at not feeling hungry now. Day four would be when I can eat other proteins so that piece of salmon in the freezer, would so be grilled and eaten with such appetite.
I've been reading a lot. City of Bones and Ashes for the moment. Cassandra Claire, who is the author of the famous Mortal Instruments series started out as a fanfiction writer, Harry Potter fandom. I read one of her stories, pretty long and it wasn't really to my taste. But, reading the books make me realise, that the general feel of them, is something familiar as that is how the good HP fanfics are like.
There's a plot skipping around in my head for a day now. I have the main points, but I need to find the right settings, to really show that internal struggle. I know that this will be one of my better stories. What I have in my head now, is this line:
His kiss was like a wisp of smoke, curling tightly in my mouth before leaving me so out of breath and full of chemical joy.
I will now go find random people to talk to while coaxing that plot onto paper while ignoring that confession I have already typed up in my Drafts. Do enjoy this cover of Cranberries' Linger by a Malaysian band. It is addictively good, even more angst-y that the original version which is one of my all time favourites.