Friday, November 8, 2013

Monday, November 4, 2013

Sin I Have A Few

I've always remembered one particular episode of Charmed where the seven deadly sins were used as weapons against the sisters. And out of the seven, Pride is the only one you can't overcome. I'm glad it applies only in that context. Because I feel like I'm an extremist in almost all seven. And my favourite is Phoebe. And her true love is forever Cole.

Lol which made me ponder what watching all these shows were doing to our heads. And I guess I got exposed to a lot more of these sins. In different, tempting versions. Then there's also porn, an unevitable thing really. So I guess for every action is an reaction, since we as humans perceive everything as relative, there is always an opposite to whatever you're feeling right? So there must be some sort of reaction for indulging in the seven sins too. Am I somehow paying the price?

""人间地狱", a phrase J has been throwing around a lot. It combines two separate meanings, "the mortal world" and "hell" together. I think it means this life was meant to suck? We're in hell? Before we get reincarnated or something. What a weird religion. But I guess it's a nice thought that you get chances to redo this whole life thing and learn from your past lives. Well life isn't hell at all lah. I don't know how I got here. My chinese is terrible. The other day I pronounced 垃圾 wrong or something (like saying trubbish instead of rubbish just cause I've played a lot of pokemon).


Sunday, November 3, 2013

While at times lacking, my proficiency with language has enabled me to describe the many beauties that cannot be obtained in life, to articulate emotional need far more complex and greater than what it should be, and to have conformed into a lifestyle I would never really belong to.

And this is my real question, Sher.

Saturday, November 2, 2013

Why I Wanted To Be Good-Looking

Disclaimer: Why am I writing this? I guess the whole point of me blogging again was to put to words the shit that are stirring inside my head. And since no one supposedly reads this I shouldn't hold back, yeah? But yeah, I'm making much ado about nothing. Welcome to the self-centered world of K


Obviously, I have a problem - one so vain and narcissistic that I need to write about it. I don't remember the exact moment when I first started giving a fuck, but I guess I was just tired of feeling ugly. When you're ugly in high school, people are mean. You have no worth. Nothing else matters, really, it didn't matter if you were smart, or if you were really nice. You mean nothing to these people. You are nothing.. unless you were rich. 

But wealth was one thing I was taught from young to not flaunt. Everyone makes mistakes, but I think I've done no major wrongs in regards to that. I tried to be nice. Everyone just wants to be liked (or not be despised at the very least) right? 

When I was younger, I received many praises for my looks. Maybe I grew out of it? I don't know. Puberty was cruel to me - I was no longer the cute little boy scholar. People called me ugly, but I learned pretty quickly to get over that. I do, however, remember the first time someone implied I was ugly. Even at eleven I was never oblivious.. but that didn't bother me for more than a minute (although the fact that I still am writing about it must mean something). 

I remember the first time my mother unnecessarily told me (nice and whimsically) that I was not exactly pleasing to the eye. Especially not next to my sister (paraphrased). I was thirteen. And til today, it remains one of the many things that I cannot unhear. 

And that is the thing about me.. I am overly sensitive. I remember scenarios from when I was eight.. and I still play it through my mind on how I could have better handled that situation. I remember all the beautiful things people have said about me, as well as the bad ones. And when I remember, I cannot let things go. I can only pretend. I pretend to be okay about everything, but inside I'm slowing withdrawing all my investments in our relationship. When I get angry with you, I am angry with everything you've done since the very beginning. 

I am very lost. What have I been saying? 

I want to be good-looking so I can be deserving of all the hotness that comes my way. I guess the combination of all my environmental factors has molded me into thinking that beauty is necessary. Maybe I've watched too much drama. The hot guy ALWAYS ends up with the hot girl in the end. But I also believe there's a deeper factor involved. And there's only one woman in the world with that power over me..... And I guess, of all my flaws, this was the most straightforward to fix.

At the core of it all, I guess I just want to be happy. I became a chaser. I've been chasing happiness ever since 'the incident', and I guess I lost track of my goals along the way. I started chasing thrills instead. Chasing highs. At little concern for personal safety. I didn't want to die.. but I guess I didn't mind it. You don't need education in hell. That's why I didn't study. That's the answer I couldn't give you when you came for me, pa.  

It's a weird thing to have to learn from mistakes. 

First there's the denial. I held my ground even when the earth was crumbling, but the day came when my convictions overwhelmed logic to such a degree that I knew I was lying to myself.  It's no fun bruising your own ego, but it could be worse. All egos need bruising, and better myself than someone else yeah? Slowly but surely, I felt more and more mortified for all the related things I did incorrectly. Sometimes it's too much so I go back to denial and tell the relevant feelings that I'm rain checking this shit. 

I guess it was more than wanting to look good, more than wanting nice things, more than wanting to be fawned over. I wanted to deserve nice things. I wanted to be deserve of attention. Funny how I wrote that all in past tense. Joy. 

And now I tell myself that.. who the fuck cares? Beauty is not skin-deep. And if you think otherwise, it is your problem. Not mine. 

It is their problem. Not mine.

It is her problem. Not mine.

Not mine. 

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Thank You

I often find myself giving in to an extreme nostalgia and overwhelming sadness over an otherwise inappropriate memory.

Then my mind flooded to Sydney; of our lattes, brunches, weird walks to the gym etc, and that exact feeling comes to me.

Then I remember that you're here now. In Melbourne. Next to me. And nothing else matters.

Monday, June 17, 2013


My father has always been a person I've admired; not cause he's my dad, but because he is a great person? If I had to describe a person who is actually morally righteous, nobel and all that jazz, he would be the first (and perhaps) only person that comes to my mind.

For most of my life there has always been this uneasy feeling of undeserving, like I don't deserve someone like him in my life. There were many things I did wrong - I bailed on swimming (albeit I had other reasons for quitting), I got really fucked up, I screwed my exams and the like. Then there were also the expectations I did not live up to (things you'd expect to enjoy with your sons once they're of age.. but eventually they chose shopping over golf) - golf, nature, being smelly and sweaty playing golf, being sweaty and smelly surrounded by nature etc; although I must say I do enjoy nature and to a lesser extent golf, as long as I get to go home to a comfy room and a shower equipped with a consistent stream of properly temperated water.

As I grew older I thought that the greatest (sober) feeling I would ever feel was getting my dad's approval. I constantly shoved what I thought were accomplishments in his face, and one day (after he had a few glasses) I was finally rewarded. I would never forget the first time he told me he was proud of me.

Then it hit me - I had daddy issues.

Perhaps it was his slight distance from me when I was younger, or his alcoholism that gave me nightmares on end, or perhaps how I knew that everyone held him in high regard (and sucked up to him like liches drinking steroid-tainted blood) before I even understood why; I needed his approval.

For a good two years I was a lost cause, and my dad finally broke down and found me. My mum had long given up, not that I would blame her, I've given her a lot of grief and she's given up on me at least 3 times, but it's been so long since I've longed for her approval; I don't actually feel like it's consistent enough for me to want it anymore. And since my dad was the one who came for me I've always wanted to prove him right over my mum, and I guess this may have been when my need for his approval really started to show. Afterall, he gives me everything I want, fetches me anywhere I need to go, and allows me my little rebellions as long as they're not crossing any lines; he has been trying to please me since day 1 (even when he was a drunk businessman 6 days a week) (Sundays were his sober days when he would spend time with me ahahaha).

Half a year ago, I realized something else. I've made peace with this need for his approval, and I realized that me needing his approval was something that he wouldn't approve of in the first place. He would like me to be a proper person, not because of his approval, but because of him, and because of who I am. I remember skipping new year eve clubbing (OMG) to stay home and watch movies with him. I remember skipping (what would have been fun) outtings with friends to spend time with him. I remember ditching an afternoon of shopping for golf at the driving range with him, how his eyes lit up when I asked him if I was holding the driver right (duh I was), and expressing genuine interest in his favourite sport.

I learned something that day while pretending to love golf with my father. I learned that even if I had to give up something that makes me happy, my father's happiness more than makes up for it, and I feel even happier than I would have if I went.. drinking with my mates (for example). I realized that it extended to a few more people in my life, my grandma, my mum, my sister etc. I learned what it meant to love someone properly.

I have no real love for golf. But I do love golf, like how my father loves shopping. I love seeing him happy like how he loves seeing me happy, even at his own expense (it's always been at his expense though). And regardless, I owe it to golf (and my father) for teaching me one of the most important things in my life.

Thank you, I love you and happy father's day pa.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

I'm here cause I have things to say that I can't on my anonymous blog.