November.

 

Worn-out. No confidence. Worrying and worrying...

 

Life seems a standstill when I question: what is life about?

I think I'm suddenly back at crossroads again, worrying about the future, about what I would do, and afraid. Afraid of what my future would be, a bleak looking pile of muddle there, feeling unenthusiatic.

 

Teaching.

I don't mind teaching...but me not getting much out of my teaching rounds got me worrying. Then again, I'm too tired. Too many things rolling, not stopping, one after another. I can't find myself.

 

Home...spending less and less time home? The fear of departing from it, getting gradually distant...

 

Peace. That's what I need.

 

Stand up. Upright, and be brave. I need sleep.

 

Goodness to all.

4 weeks of no uni. How great was that?

 

first 2 weeks of intense work and rushing kinda justifies the subsequent two weeks of relaxing...although there were still work to do.

 

I realise how slack I've been with my current course - taking it for granted that it was less challenging than my previous degree thus putting less effort...Because of this I felt I haven't learnt much.

 

Oh well, uni starts tomorrow and just realised at the last minute that there are so many things to do which I am unaware of... facing embarassment of showing up empty handed in class. Sigh. 对课业太没心机了。姿倩，要积极！！！

 

人生，要热爱。 Love life. :)

 

 

lost. stuck. tired. going through another experience of assignment agony. no structure, no focus, lack of time not extensive enough reading, help. crap essay. time is running out.

 

arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

 

going out. escaping.

Makoto Shinkai - byoshou 5 cm...another great Japanese work that reaffirms my craze for the Japanese films.

 

Masayoshi Yamazaki - One more time, one more chance...another beautiful song that made the edits for the final sequence of byoushou 5 cm. Song currently playing in loop. Soothing, strong, firm, evocative.

 

Assignments vs. time management. I realised that I take too long a time to produce something. Five hours to produce 3 paragraphs? While mountains of work awaits, waiting to haunt as dateline approaches. Come on sze ching, it's not fair to your working partner! Friday is full with the internship, Saturday is spent at the temple, Sunday...oh no...meeting. Where'd I get the time to work on my assignment? How to work efficiently in between small allowances of time? Considering my productivity today, it seems unlikely I can write something to satisfaction. More time = more productive? Not necessarily so. Maybe I need to work on that.

 

Australian Ballet performance - Manon

Olivia Bell, resembling the elegance of Audrey Hepburn from afar. Graceful, exhibiting great virtuosity, every girl's dream. But many have overlooked the tears and sweat of the gruelling training that dancers go through. Proud? Stuck-up? Every reason to be so. Olivia Bell was right in that dancers spend most of their time looking at themselves in the mirror, how not to develop ego?

 

Eating...still have my mind obsessed with food lately. Cycling gives me excuse to eat more? Ahem. Not a healthy notion. Butter? Cheese? Effort to be made to reduce more of the former.

 

Lazy. Constantly losing the battle.

 

Dance...i feel like dancing the same way as Olivia Bell does. Feeling the strength of my legs, the extension of my body...except physical limitations prohibit the joy of ballet movements.

 

Language, writing, ideas...plenty plenty to work on. sigh.

 

And then a question that plagues recently: what is life for?

 

-SC-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After more than six months, I'm finally dressed in my leotard again!

 

It wasn't without trepidation, hesitations and excuses. I had been back classes after a period of no dancing before...and the experiences were excruciating. For one, my hip joints would cry with pain when I lift my legs; my calf muscles moan when I shift my weight on demi; my metatarsus cramping after the first few seconds of pointe; my legs shaking with lack of sustainability after few seconds of hold; my arabesque goes like an aeroplane, my turn out are precisely turn ins; not to mention the torture of adage and grand battlements.....every part of my body are like being forced to run laps immediately after being yanked awake from a long deep sleep. I'd always had thoughts of giving up. And often the next day, every inch of movement ached so much I'm better off wrapped up like a mummy.

 

I told the instructor about my inactivity and I guess this time, the experience wasn't as bad. She was gentle with me, giving us exercises to soft music, advising me to keep it simple as my body can't be exerted too much...in the end, it was a good workout. The class ended with some stretching and pilates. I felt normal and eager to carry on.

 

It's been five years since I've stopped regular ballet classes. Ballet was part of my life...the sleepy afternoons when I dragged myself to the studio and danced half-heartedly, getting scolded by Mdm Wong, the trips to the adjacent shopping centre for bubble tea after classes......why I could write a book about my ballet 'career'. Don't think I'll enter a self-indulgent reminiscing session now. Maybe one day, I'll write about it.

 

Anyway, I'm stubbornly holding on to the hope of one day finishing off my advanced 2 RAD exam, refusing to give up my dancing dream. It'll take some commitment to get back into training again, but I wonder whether the time now is conducive for that. I've been stagnant since the day I sprained my ankle one month before my advance 1 exam...and it's been five years. Why, the times at City Ballet and Mdm Wong and Lee Yee and June and Siok Fun are so vivid!

 

I guess I do have one reason to keep me going though. Back in 2006 I took the place of my mate in a class of a ballet workshop by a very respected examiner - renowned Hong Kong ballet examiner Ms. Sylvia Chang. After much disputes about me paying for the fee, the organiser secretly called me out and said I can be exempt from paying, and ended by saying that I should put what I learnt to good practice in future. So there. I'm not going to let that lesson go to waste. The few days' workshop has greatly rekindled my aspiration to continue dancing. I was taught techniques I wasn't aware of before. My whole ten years of lessons was made so much clearer in the few days.

 

Back home, ballet would be part of almost every middle-class daughter's life. Just like piano and art. I spent ten years not really knowing what ballet was about except class exercises and yearly examinations. The grand ballet repertoires - le Corsaire, Sleeping Beauty, Giselle etc. I was ignorant...Baryshnikov, Petipa, Fonteyn, Nijinsky, Ballet Russes, Pavlova were distant, as if what I did had no connections at all. Ballet lessons were just sets of exercises - being scolded for not tucking in my tummy, not lifting my hips, not turning out, poor balance, lacking strength in developes and adages...and the occasional praises for good performance style and expression. It was when I stepped away from these that I came in touch with the vast, gradiosity of the world of ballet. Even now I still lack sufficient knowledge about the art I had been vigorously learning.

 

Last year, I brushed paths with two professional dancers living in the same block. They were my childhood aspirations come true. I could not contain my delight when I got to know them. They were on scholarships for professional ballet training in the prestigious Australian Ballet. Heck they deserve to be so proud. The amount of hard work they put in, the stringent disciplines and numerous injuries...heck, ballet just isn't for the faint-hearted.

 

So there. Even though I'm just one of the ugly ducklings trying but not really succeeding the transformation to a graceful swan, I am one lucky person. I shall carry the hope still, maybe not performing to a hall of audience in a solo piece, but charming the examiner as I imagine myself in one.

 

love,

-SC-

 

So there, a name for my new bike. ^-^ Can't think of a name I'd be passionate about, and since it's silver...Sylvia? Um. Sylvie. Oh well, Sylvie it is before something better comes along.

 

Today, I rode Sylvie to uni. First time indeed. I was quite apprehensive all the way, but after 1 and a half hours of pumping the pedals up north, I arrived safely to my destination, albeit with sore back (thanks to the D-lock and brick-like books in my bag), fatigue, and the justified reward to eat. :p

 

The ride was quite pretty. The roads, enhanced by the first bloomers of spring - the lovely pink cherry blossoms (I think?) on some walkpaths. Trimmed and neat houses along Oriel road, sunny sun, through calm city forest reserves and winding creek ensconced by protective vegetation, it's not bad a ride. I am most wary when I cycle along roads without bike paths, was wondering when I'd get honked by car right before I actually got honked - for dismounting at a road bent. Well, sorry mr. driver. I was unsure of road rules and perhaps you're honking me to remind me of my danger.

 

Finally got a bike. I laud myself for this. Beginning of a new journey? Reflective clothing, the enthusiasm to ride to the city, reduced transport cost? Reduced guilt to eat more? Stuffed myself so this evening. No good. Controlled, mindful eating is still to be endeavoured.

_________

 

Education. Means to an end? Enlightenment? Teacher as servant to emancipation of students? Teacher as masters? Essay to write. Due date soon. Far from completion. Not enough time. Oh no. This time, handing stuff in late is serious. Will I make it?

 

Ughh.

 

 

 

 

 

What's it all about?

 

Love.

 

Is it something that develops when you give, when you throw off the self for someone?

 

So many things contribute to that...love don't come easy's the right phrase in a song...meeting someone at the right time, right place, right mindset, so many things in play to make it come happen.

 

So what if, when you think a possibility arises, that the person has found someone else and all hopes and pretty thoughts go into the bin?

___

 

What is life is the question.

 

What is life about?

 

Dear all, I wish to write, share my thoughts, develop them in this blog. But too many things obstructed this want: laziness, being too self-conscious about my language, just generally afraid.

 

But these things are a hindrance to what I want to achieve, and up to myself to overcome. Strength, insistence, courage, just the simplest of all values to make things work. Sometimes the most complicated things just require something simple to rectify, and yes it is the drive that make things happen. Sze ching, come on!

 

It has been in my mind for a long while to start documenting my thoughts in a blog, like the newspaper writers in weekly columns. Plain laziness, however, kept me away.

And so in this night, after lying awake unable to sleep (or just due to a screwed-up biological clock), I've come down to it.

 

No, I'm not as eloquent or articulate as I'd like to be...but it'll just be how it is. Hopefully some day it can be something worth reading, something that would inspire and provoke thoughts. I figured writing a blog would be my first step to get things work. A platform for me to chew my thoughts, to explore ideas, and hopefully give something to the reader. So there, first attempt, scattered bits and pieces...

 

Family...feeling like helping someone else's family, what about my own?

______

What is life? Is it to help others?

Is it on being nice? What if everyone becomes nice and nicety just loses it value? what if everyone say white lies just so the other person has a boost of confidence? It's not a sincere comment is it? What if people say untrue but pleasing things to people for the purpose of encouragement , then where does the value lie when one says something that he or she genuinely feels? What is a true compliment anyhow?

 

_____

Narcissism is inherent within me. Sze ching, work on that.

______

A random entry spurred by a disappointment. But Mr.___, I had enjoyed making the gift, and grown to appreciate you even more. Too bad for me that someone else has already filled the position. Now I wonder who can I share with. All thoughts circling in my mind, will they explode? Mr. __, all the best.

I'll continue with my journey, work towards my dreams, and learn to overcome shyness and lack of confidence along the way. I'm still finding myself. Hope I can be who I'd like to be.

 

Love,

SC

 

 

 

Winter's here and hell I'm worried about gaining weight.

 

Had some popcorn while watching a film at miff this evening. Fat Fat Fat. The constant struggle is not one to easily comprehend - to eat or not to eat. That's the question to haunt me all winter I guess. I think I've gained weight over last week. My face looks puff in my birthday photos, spent almost one hour last night comparing those taken about 3 months ago. I think my contours have thickened. Oh no. Somehow, being fatter just spelt unattractive for me. I look better being thin. Should maintain that. Run, tomorrow morning!

 

Got internet access in my room at last! My life is complete! My own little haven. :) Energy saving I am alright: my heater's blasting when I could have just wore an extra jacket, my hair's wet from late shower and my little Kathmandu hairdryer is threaten to wreck my hair if I blow on it any longer.

 

Thought I'd get more active in expressing my thoughts. Certainly need to practice if I were to become a noble prize winner in lit some day. Well, not that. Just to get going.

 

More random thoghts:

-vegetarianism. hmm. Soul food cafe @ Smith street.

-really need to sit down and do some thinking about what I have done or am doing atm in relation to my dreeeeeamms.

-Fat. No good. need to acquire some balance between intake and burning energies. Running! Get back at it! Really need more intensive exercise now that muffin/cookies/cakes are luring me everywhere...

-single solitary person not good for personal emotional wellbeing?

 

Sleep with popcorn fat tonight.

10 ways of wrecking and subverting a Chinese New Year celebration:

 

1. Deliberately skip reunion dinner. Make family members perplex with the reason you don't show up. Spoil the festive mood.

 

2. Stay in your room throughout the morning of chinese new year. watch dramas, animes, read comics, etc. Exclude yourself from family gatherings. Although they may try to ignore and carry on with celebrations, still you have done something to spoil the mood.

 

3. No angpows from father? So what? I'll go out and visit lots of friends instead.

 

4. Sleep late every night. No matter how tired you are. Make yourself sick so parents can worry about you and possibly regret their behaviour towards you.

 

5. Don't talk to anyone in your family. They are your enemies.

 

6. Go out every day and night. Refuse to stay at home. Show them you're really serious about your spite towards them.

 

7. Run around naked in the city while other people are wearing their new year clothes. Show them what fashion is truly about. One that dares to be different. Rather than donning dull and repetitive mass produced clothes that people are disillusioned with reflecting individuality.

 

8. Make a chinese new year tune full of profanity and taboos and sing them during the first day of Lunar new year. Sure beats the loud and noisy renditions of pariah recycled local CNY songs that they play in loop in supermarkets.

 

9. Jump on top of the roofs of cars, do a couple of jetes and pirouttes as they flood the highway bumper to bumper. At least you'll make a different story from the usual car crash incidents that make the headlines.

 

10. Fly away to a far far away land. Maybe to Alaska or something. Freeze to death or probably teach polar bears the 'gong xi fatt chai' gesture...and maybe get pawed or mauled. And a happy chinese new year to you.

 

Dad's still not talking to me. I'm not going to do anything. I've tried, but the will to attempt has turned to contempt.

 

The above lists are just a form of ranting from me. Please don't take it seriously. This is how a person makes himself miserable, when he thinks he's making others miserable. And possibly an indication of how potentially violent and vindictive I can be. hehehheheh.

 

People beware. The devil speaks.

 

But despite all evilness, a Happy Chinese New Year to all! Have a fun and rodent-filled new year! hehehe  (rodents aren't pests actually. They are smart and cordial creatures. Just saved one from being permanently imprisoned in my toilet the other night. A big grey one it is too!)

Down down and down.

 

I wonder why I sulk so much. Too blessed and fortunate maybe, making me a potential spoilt brat.

 

My wiles and cries always need to be justified. Because, living in such a blissful physical environment, I have no good reason to complain. Life has been smooth for me and all I can be is to be grateful for what I have, to cherish my blessings, to live happily. I know.

 

But perhaps when a person is free from worries or any life-threatening etc. problems, one gets even more prone to being depressed and unhappy, easily affected and bothered by the slightest obstruction along the way. The people with more reasons to be happy tend to be the unhappy ones. Such that can be seen in contemporary  society, where reasons for suicide gets increasingly superficial. Gone are the days of the grand tragic deaths. Materially we are well-equipped, but morally and emotionally vulnerable. At least, this applies to me.

 

I'd like to cry and be sad. I'd like to sulk, especially to my loved ones. Any reason? no. From young I have been known to cry for attention, or for no reason at all. The drama queen that I am magnifies whatever teensy bit frustration into a devastating event. Maybe this innate behaviour in me picks up minor distressing moments in my life and the mechanisms of my imagination transforms them into plots, just so I am likened to a heroine in a fiction. And now I am going through one of these moments. Instead of finding ways to remedy the situation, I am wallowing in my anger and confusion.

 

That's why I sulk.

 

Friends around me are paired and a few are planning to get hitched soon. This makes me feel a little different, and inadvertently I begin to question my stance on relationships.

 

I begin to doubt myself. Maybe I've been over idealistic, narrowing the scope of people who are potentials, which makes the likelihood of me finding 'the one' smaller and smaller.

 

To vent my frustrations and recent ongoing inner-debates, I confided in my mom. And she said indeed, I have been idealistic, much as I hate to face it.

 

My hopes for relationship to come true is simple: the spark that is mutual. Of course, circumstances come into play, unseen forces and conditions work to ignite it. And the lack of one tiny condition means the complete absence of chemistry.

 

Or maybe, I haven't given the chance for a chemistry to happen. I shut out myself and the other person on first impression based on superficial judgments. Maybe that has been my mistake? Horrible isn't it?

 

What do I really want? I don't even know! Have I been to shallow? Do I overrate myself, esteem myself too highly when I'm only mediocre? I jokingly lament about not having luck at meeting people, but perhaps it's brought on by myself. And this realisation hurts.

 

Friends around me seem to have bliss in finding the other half. Will this 'bliss' elude me? Do I feel the emptiness of its absence? Do I long for it? Or do I stubbornly deny my need for it? Need I learn to oversee the plain and unexciting facade and be down-to-earth and practical, and concentrate instead on the qualities he can offer?

stability, comfort, and security over all else. And leave love to surface itself. Or not at all. But maybe yes.

 

How should it be?

 

No matter what, I guess deep within me there's always a desire to be pretty.

A satisfaction when I see myself in photos, an assurance that "ÿes, this is how I look like and how I want to look like".

People who look 'pretty' certainly possess higher self-confidence when people give affirmation to their looks.

 

 

Perhaps I do want to wear make up to enhance my looks, and pose for pictures in deliberate ways that maximise the aesthetic of my reflection through the lense of the camera.

 

Maybe I do want to go through manipulative methods that would produce a better looking self or photo image. Maybe I do want to go to photo studios and subject myself to modes of lighting and make up and choreographed poses and measured smiles so to have a beautiful image of myself, one that can mark my girlish beauty and youth.

 

Why the obsession to be pretty? Why the constant judgement to looks?

Maybe I should stop being defiant to my inner wish to be 'pretty' too. Maybe I should pay more attention to grooming myself, just so to make people steal a few glances that would boost affirmation of my being. I can't rely on my natural state to be pretty. Need further external enhancements.

 

I had always been stubbornly resisting any forms of conventional beauty and constantly upholding my conviction of beauty by being áu naturel'. Guess my being au naturel is not up to my own standards of beauty. Confidence is beauty, but how often can confidence show? And maybe confidence do depend on affirmation of being which comes from the general acknowledgement of one's prettiness. Perhaps my faith in having inner beauty and elegance flow through is insufficient to go against glossy pictures that people swoon at. And seeing beautiful pictures of friends on network pages makes me go green with envy. There I go. My inner desire should no longer be repressed.

 

So what's it all about?

 

How far are pictures accurate in depicting happiness in one's life? On networking sites we put on our best pictures of happy, smiley faces...Though we can conclude that generally his or her life is happy...

 

Anyway, one things for sure, I need to be happy. I may not be a born beauty, but I shall charm people with my genuine smile, and the radiance I shall exude with my zest for life.

 

The other day while doing gardening work at Aunty Josie's house, the pool-cleaner guy said the most tingling words to me. "You're a pretty girl" he said. He was genuine, I know. Seeing me in dirt-ridden old clothes, dishevelled strands of hair escaping the loose gardening straw hat, squatting by the garden bed collecting weeds, he said that I was beautiful. I replied saying that he'd made my day, and he said I made his day too.

 

maybe I am on my way to exuding natural beauty after all.

 

Have an open heart, and be constantly inspired by things around you. Happiness is beauty. That would be my aim...to be happy.

 

love,

Sze Ching

 

 

 

 

How do you get from being aimless to achieving something?

 

就这样盲无目的的写着写着，怎样才能写成一篇东西来呢？

研究也作了不少，可是到写的阶段时发现脑里一片空白。

混不出一个辨题，但问题却是那么简单- “佛教和儒家思想有什么区别？佛教用什么方式适应中国人思想？”

好喜欢这题目，但就是写不出东西。

是我好胜吗？为什么不把辨题想得容易些？是我懒得想吗?

救命啊。我会不会成功写出一篇满意的文章呢？

是不是自己多余，硬想把东西弄得高难度？是我硬要高难度？到最后一无所成？

我在干嘛？

我这方式出问题了吗？是我这好胜鬼，爱面子的问题吗。。。是我的问题吗。。。是我的问题吗。。。是我的问题吗。。。是我的问题吗。。。唉！

啊。。。

 

还是去睡了。

是养神，还是逃避？

不行。提起劲来，顺其自然。随着自己自然的步骤吧。问这么多烂问题干嘛。

哼！睡。

 

Right.

 

Cause and effect.

 

Cause: wasn't vigorous enough. poor time management.

 

effect: assignment due soon and insufficient research+panic

 

it happened again. will i ever learn? don't think so. essay due on friday and i'm still researching. researching. researching.

i want to research. wouldn't know what to write lest. i hate myself. i've got other things to do too. now the wonderful question: why didn't i do it earlier?

 

i was...

 

...bad with distribution of my time. spent too much time and effort researching on a small assignment. now i'm going to screw my big assignment.

...busy with production. realised the urgency of starting work early, but just never got down to do it.

 

and now i'm in this sticky situation. whoopee.

being a pain in the arse happens when you don't have enough sleep.

like the many bubbles we have blown at the theatre today, mine has blown too. just like that.

 

and then i became a bitch, the witch dormant in me suddenly took over. my evil side came to the surface. i've scared the wits out of my dancers, been sarcastic, really sarcastic. i think sarcasm's an innate talent of mine. i was a thin line from being hysterical, just like how a dance teacher used to be when his temper flared.

 

and now, i don't know. here comes the consequence - a strained relationship with my dancers. the 2 way street blocked. i was really really nasty. it's been a while i guess. i thought i'd gotten rid of it, but it came back to me, saying really nasty words to make sure they get hit.

 

生气是短暂的发疯。我发疯了。i guess it just showed how nasty i can get even though i've normally been conscious enough to hide it.

 

it's awful because it just showed how nasty i can really be.

worse, i can't sleep now still.

help.

There's always a time when you are dead tired, your body is screaming for bed and your eyelids are holding 10 tonnes ofheavyweights and you bloody know you need to sleep, but you just don't want to.

 

Stubborness. that's what.

 

I just refuse to sleep. Why? because of the things that i feel i have failed to achieve. Unconsciously i'm punishing myself by thinking about them. Blaming myself, making myself feel awful over and over again.

 

I bloody know i need to sleep and have adequate mental energy to catch up with my work that's severely lacking in time but hey here i am writing something that people would rather watch the dust float in the air than read. Why?

 

It's just the same as eating i feel...the fact that i know i'm full and eating any more will make me fat, but i continue to stuff food into my mouth. What is happening to me?

 

Oh dear Angel,

I need to stop punishing myself. And i'll never have the need to punish myself if I were to treat myself better. To stabilise my mind, let the reasoning side of me softly take over, rather than constantly depend on self-inflicted punishment, in which i unconsciously repudiate by taking in more, thus causing a vicious spiral downwards.

 

Maybe i should sleep dear Angel, and redeem my mistakes when i'm fresh and strong, even when i've fallen behind.

 

Love and all the best,

Sze Ching

 

 

I am now writing this to procrastinate.

 

Tis' the end of the two week holiday and I've been as productive as a little pig shifting his sleeping position from right to left.

 

I have been concentrating on work from 1.30 to about 4pm. until i decided to take a break and ignore the devil telling me to eat un-slimming food. i ate an apple. then decided to go a bit more generous and had my favourite soymilk drink. i reach for the gigantic peanut butter jar and there i go non-stop. unable to stop the nuts out of me, i turned to Tuff nuts. and started binging.

 

now i'm feeling the effects of a full stomach and suffering from the guilt of increased cholesterol.

 

And lost the thread of focus on my work. Gee. I really am so lazy aren't I, always finding excuse to avoid work. And i feel like sleeping now....................

 

No, i must continue!!! getting fat or no i must focus on until 6.30!!! (half an hour left, oops).

 

HAIH!!!!!

 

 

It happened simply like this...it was lunch time. Had a meeting until about 3pm, and felt happy that i was hungry, cos that justified my eating. felt like sushi, had three tiny slices of california roll at plush fish (that normally fills me up). i felt more  space in my stomach, then i decided to loosen my 'regime' a bit by buying a muffin. A huge berry muffin it is. Went to a quieter place at union house, and relished it. One bite...two bites...three hearty munches...and more...until i hear the bell in my stomach ringing, saying: "time to stop...guilt alert!!!"

 

and guess what i did. very unsurprisingly i continued digging my teeth into the soft pillowy texture of the thick muffin. (even as i write now i reflect longingly back to that moment a few hours ago). more bites...until the ringing gets increasingly loud, my stomach FULL. There was still 1/3 of the muffin left. Now here comes the consequence........guilt. IT's been 3 and a half hours now and my tummy is still feeling the after-effect. Right after this episode i went to the library to read through my reader. staying static on a chair for about 3 hours doesn't help ease the regret of muffin binging.

 

Analysis: why do i eat when i'm already full? well, most likely because of greed. the constant greed for taste. secondly, because i felt like punishing myself...? didn't have sufficient sleep for past couple of nights. perhaps because of this i feel the easy tendency to get agitated at the slightest things. i got agitated with my greed. i know i'm greedy and subconsciously i punish myself for being greedy by fattening myself up. i know a priori that eating beyond capacity of the stomach ain't doing my health any good, nor am i going to feel comfortable when i seat down with a full stomach...why is it that people do things they know aren't good for them? why do people submit to compulsiveness?

 

i still feel full after three hours, the muffin now contently resting in my stomach, relishing in its victory over the gastric juices that are trying vainly to dissolve its remnants. Now i can't justify an early dinner. Damn.

 

 

I'm tired. But i try to be in a light mood. another daunting assignment. will i do it well?

 

to alls out there, stay light-hearted and free. and smile. : )

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

 

Tired...

 

Am just wondering if my blog will always be a victim of my rantings on life? A despondent entry would normally spring concerned messages on my wellbeing. Well, that's really consoling, but not really what i expected. : ) Thanks you guys for going out of your way once in a while to drop a line on me. : )

 

So many thoughts go through my head all the while. I thought i'd document them on blogs, but when the time permits, i normally have nothing i feel strongly to write about. Writing blogs is something so conscious. So wary about my sentences, using the right vocab and grammar...worrying if people would think i'm trying too hard. Indeed perhaps i am, i would admit.

Been feeling really tired recently, coupled with the petty problems that normally plague a student life...I was about to lament again...but i thought better of it. My blog would be useless then. Worthless. But sharing my life with others is such a wonderful thing wasting entries on self-indulgent complaints would be such a bore. I imagine my blog being read as one of the newspaper articles featured on weekends, casual observations/comments on life. Why : ) I hope this can be something like it. A space for people to know me more. but if only my words flow freely onto the screen, rather than having to pause and think of better words and sentences......Writing blogs seem to denote a sense of self-significance, doesnt' it? writing it now, thinking of prospective readers, trying to impress you guys with a unique style of thought, as if what i have to say is quite important. haha...but i guess i do want to feel that way. to feel like the writers of weekend columns...as if what i'm going to say is going to change or offer some valid insights...hmmm........*-* i hope i do though. even though it seems childish to pretend. here, i try to sound mature, i try to create an illusion about my being. but i guess its useful to remind myself that this is just another mediocre blog. and that millions of other blogs out there are so much more insightful. then again, it's a medium for me to practice my expression. : )

 

Again said, I'm tired. Lots of things to do...wouldn't mind if it's an analytical paper. But it's something that requires creativity. And i'm so dry of ideas. Hence here comes stress. And irritation. And my ravenous cravings for food, chocolates and all things sweet that fatten.....

 

Ideas. Where do they come from? How can they develop? I want it to be a creation that i feel good about. My ego wouldn't let it settle for something i deem average, but my skills and knowledge wouldn't let it be anything spectacular! Realistic. I know i have to be. Thanks to Fay for offering her ideas, but my stupid ego is still battling. Maybe to be unrealistic i am only doomed to failure, but that certain competitiveness, stubbornness is insistent to reign. I don't know.

 

Maybe my complaints are just so small and petty, as compared to the problems most people are facing now. but i just get so self-centred when my life is not as smooth flowing. People are suing each other and dwelling on miseries. but me, i'm wallowing in my self-inflicted narrowmindedness.

 

then again, thanks for reading. : )

 

There are so many people to look up to. I hope i can be like them one day. I hope