Can It Just Stop.

It's just so difficult to allow such a rare (positive) spark enter my head, yet I loathe how the people around me play the heaviest role in pulling me back into darkness. It doesn't matter anymore whether they are conscious or unconscious about their intentions, today's the day where I step back into a space. A space which doesn't hesitates to mute the voices from outside. Access is temporarily or permanently? Fate shall decide.

Let's not hide or deny anymore & lay things straight, I'm furiously writing about my eating disorder again. Yes, furiously is the word. To start off, I'll first ask the questions you need answered, - "What happened? Why are you bringing this up again? Aren't you getting better?" Trust me, I feel the confusion too. Since the last time I wrote about this issue, it was a post worth writing to let out my inner gloom. By a scarce grasp of willingness to fight off the demons as describe on the first line, I forced myself to eat, bite, chew like a normal kid. Joy & long lost excitement got to me again. College life seems like a story I'd find interestingly fun to live in. Could say I actually forgot about being the kid who contemplate about food, fat & calories every single second my heart beats. Dear anorexics & bulimics out there, I'm sure you'd understand how rare it is to have propitious moments like this.

Until it all ended today.

After environmental studies class today, I strolled my way to Subway nearby to grab a few White Chocolate Macadamia cookies before my ride home arrived. I carelessly chomped my way during a 20 minute wait, then tagged along my family to a Malaysian cafe for tea-time before heading home. Just stating, the tea-time with them was unplanned so I was stuffed after that. About two & a half hours later, we had homemade pasta with cream for dinner. During that time, my tummy wasn't feeling well from all the cookies & (unhealthy) snacks I ate in the evening, plus I was still glutted. With such valid reasons, I told my parents that I'll have a smaller portion of pasta instead of the full plate they served me. Out of nowhere, my mom shot the bullets at me saying I'd be the person to blame if we don't have tea-time sessions or her cooking dinner again etc. Basically she was forcing me to eat up everything on my plate so she doesn't crack her voice again. 

Without a choice, I oblige myself to scoop up spoonfuls & swallow every bit of food while my tummy terribly hurts. What hit me at first wasn't being sick or dealing with something people around me don't, but the horribly wrong informal education my parents enforced on me. I don't know how to elaborate what they said more & all the hurtful thoughts swirling through my head, but they just don't know that they are the ones killing me with an invisible dagger, pushing me off balance after each time I struggle to stand. At that intense moment, all I could think was 'shit I have to purge later', 'gosh I don't think my body can stand this', 'fuck it I'm gonna relapse', 'why are my parents doing this to me'. It just appears to be so unfair to the point I'd done mostly everything to save myself, but they relentlessly do the exact opposite to screw me up. How can one's parents don't give a shit about their kid dealing with a fatal disorder after their kid actually confronting them, and instead speak as if they want the kid to feel the worst? You tell me.

I just really want to stop eating & burn this issue into permanent ashes. Alanis xx.

241 Days Later

Yup, the scar's still present on my left wrist, only without the spilling blood.

You might remember one remarkable blog post I wrote few months ago as I definitely do. Specifically 241 days ago, I was drowned with dark thoughts in my classroom, wanting to kill myself. And I did try, the blade sunk deep slicing peach flesh, revealing a greenish blue vein inside me. All was remembered well as it was a day that changed me lots. The self-granted drug I sniffed was strong enough to made me let go, to take my first step of freeing myself. I was pissed from slashing that cut, it left me a scar which would stay for eternity. More pissed that ever, people who are fated to care didn't fucking noticed my near death. I constantly ask myself, why should I care when they don't? Obviously it's a stupid question where I should care for them although they don't show the same, but I couldn't stand it anymore - the quarrelling, misunderstandings, unreasonable finger pointing, so much unfair prejudice that once & still holds one of the reasons of why I urged to jump off the 6th floor. 

It's not much, but it's more than enough.

Alright lets take away the point where such 'caring' people didn't seem to help mend me at all, but they don't just leave me drowning, they unfix me. Meaning they fucking screw things to the worse extent I rather disappear from their sight. Rude for me to say such words, but try standing in my shoes, what would you do? Trembling arms not even close to seeking self-help, I'm forced to swim in my scrambled thoughts day by day while staring at mental abusers. I finally opened up to my condition that I needed assistance, yet you restrict me from a lending hand outside of home. Does my situation makes it justifiable to say I feel totally helpless? Because that's what I feel every single day, stuck in my room trying to make things right, at least better. As someone who prefers hiding my own issues from the blissful smiles around me, it feels horrible opening up that I'm not okay, but I understand that I have to, yet what I obtained in return is embarrassment, regret & dreadful taunts.

Hate to say this so much, but I know I'm relapsing & my will's against from fighting it away. For the past few months I try so hard to think positive for real, get blades out of my sight, forgive & forget and so on. I pushed Ana away & gained my pounds back, I placed Harry's invisible cloak on Mia & it has been months since I purged. But the experienced ones knows that once they get to you, they never leave. My saviour Onision slapped it on our face that after all we can do, the only way to solve it is to seek for professional help, which is the one thing I couldn't attain from where I stand. Thanks to him, I officially brought cutting to a halt & I truly hope I don't relapse from cutting again. It was a tough journey, but I managed to loosen my fingers. As for that one senior who made the deal (read old post here), go fuck yourself. I hung onto the deal for your sake, yet you continue to smoke then & now. Could say it ain't surprising you broke the deal by looking at your doubtful face!

I'm writing this out of pain because I have nowhere else to exert my worries, and I apologise if this post didn't make your day brighter. After all, I began to blog as it's my one & only place to write who I am despite the acceptance of others. Hey, doesn't this prove that no one's living a perfect life as what it seems on screen? Just telling you I'm as ordinary as you are, maybe even a little broken inside.

Remember it's just a bad day, not a bad life.

Have a great one, Alanis xx.

Flawed Jaws

Everyone has their flaws, and today I chose to talk about the physical ones that can be identified on one's look in a blink of an eye. Mine is something rare that happens in the circle of friends I live in, something that must be explained when one questions. You'd probably noticed as it's pretty obvious, my underbite has been causing many misunderstandings for a while now.

Yup.

Got it from my dad's genes, I was born with an underbite that grew much more obvious throughout my childhood years. Surprisingly, I didn't knew I had it until I was called 'monkey' during my 3rd year in primary school. Staring at the mirror for hours like an insecure teenager, I was wondering - "What's wrong with me? Why do I look different from my friends? Am I really a monkey?" Luckily I wasn't a kid who care much about other people's judgements (or at least during then) thus I happily brushed it off & continue living life. Slowly, I realised it's getting obvious & obvious year by year, and I began to feel my unconfident shivers popping out of my chest. I didn't like it, the look & the nicknames, especially when they are reflected on one's face which is unavoidable to take a glance at everyday.

In high school, noticeable changes are my abnormal smiles, trying to hide the lower lip in but it only show the jaws more. As my teeth are also very untidy with chunks of it growing with different angles, I had one of the worse teeth you can ever have. An often asked question by my school mates was "why don't you go get braces?",  even I thought so too. Until I pulled my parents along to the dentist far away from home to get it checked & inquired more about it, I became aware that my case isn't the usual 'crooked teeth' kind of situation where you just pull out a few teeth & have braces on for years to have it solved. It's an underbite, the only way to fix it is surgery. Freezing that moment, I was terrified of the pain & the huge amount of uncomfortable time I had to go through, but I was so willing to fix it I could agree with whatever treatment as long as the nicknames stopped shooting towards my head.

But the problem is not about the pain, neither the hurting clock ticks, but the cost.

The surgery costed 30 thousand bucks, you see. Adding on the 2-years-braces & getting a few teeth out, the total's around 40k. Insurance couldn't cover a single cent as it's considered as a type of cosmetic surgery, something to improve one's appearance instead of health (but lets talk facts, fixing an underbite does improve teeth health). Staring at my parents' astonishing faces, I knew the answer's no. Went home sobbing in the car, my head was filled with negativity of continuous mocking I had to face all my life. People didn't knew the stuff they say about it actually hurts the hell out of me. Try being called an ape everyday in class, it's not something laughable at all. Friends often misunderstand my mood when they stare at me while I try to pay attention in class, most would think I'm mad as I do look mad, but I was not. Having a resting bitchface all the time is already not helping my life, imagine having an underbite stacked on. Plus it's not something I could possibly hide in any way, something I have to deal with 24/7 in the social space we live in.

The point is, think twice before you start to judge on one's personality or anything. Or don't judge at all & just go home already. I used to be very unconfident about my underbite, but now I'd accepted it as a part of me & I feel okay letting it show its flaws to the world I see. Yes it definitely annoys the hell out of me when people don't get me, but what can you say? A little explanation wouldn't hurt a soul I guess. Would I still have the surgery done in the future when I could afford it? The answer's yes. Hey, it's not because I'm denying my father's genes, but I'd love to see how I look with such a flaw taken away from me, it would be fun shocking the friends who once teased me too (you'll see what you missed hohoho). Anyways, don't look down on the physical flaws you own aites! Embrace it to the fullest, it's a part of you so you gotta be proud of it! Extraordinary always beats the ordinary, don't let it incinerate your social life in any way!

That awkward smile?

I feel you, you feel me, we all are in this journey together. Just be yourself yup!

Wishing you a fun December, Alanis xx.

Reckless & Stupidity | #SpmDay1

Day 1 of SPM was such a bitch.

It was one of my best Malay essays I ever wrote in life, threw in nine idioms & a poem, great elaboration of points, and guess what - the worst that could happen actually happened.

My essay was off the topic. My first time going off topic, and it decided to occur on SPM.

As the matter of fact, the way I knocked in the realisation was hilarious. Thinking that a word from the question owns a meaning of such, I wrote the 4-page-long text obeying its requirements. Coming out of the hall with a slight grin, Nedd & I proceeded to the library to revise for our next test. There, I flipped open the Malay dictionary to triple-confirm the meaning of that word, shockingly discovering the exact definition of it.

Basically, the question wants us to write about the methods to promote World Peace. 

Well, I scribbled ways to promote our country's peace.

Fucked, am I?

Nedd stared at me hysterically while I began to laugh like a psychopath ready to map its next killing because seriously what else could I do? Start shedding tears, flooding the library? You guys probably know it's not my thing to tear up in public (especially in a library) but I admit, it's tough to hold it in. Malay was a subject I sank my heart into just to understand, furthermore it was a subject I actually 'study' for. Not the brag, deep inside I knew that if my essay was right on track, an A for Malay might not just stay as a dream anymore. And yup, I screwed it up because of my stupidity of blindly believing that I knew the meaning of such word, and confidently chose the risky path instead of a safe but boring one. Definitely learnt my lesson, eh.

In a blink of an eye, I felt my world collapsing. It's impossible to accept the fact that this subject might give me a grade below credit, or even failing it. If I fail, I would have to retake this heartbreaking subject a few months later. If I pass below credit, I would have to take up this subject in college. Worst, I might not even get into the course I aim for if I don't get at least a C for Malay. People around me would find this as not a huge deal that I should move on from, but it hurts because my essay was good. It wouldn't scar so much if I'm usually bad at Malay or I already screwed up the elaborations of the essay in the first place. Trust me, I tried so hard to forget about it so I could focus on the other subjects, but it just couldn't work. I'm not okay at all. It's really something that obstructs me to forgive myself, all because of plain stupidity & my reckless habit with a touch of overconfidence.

Sniffs.

With the objective to draw away my miserable thoughts, (lame) puns & jokes were naturally pulled out from my tongue to spark a laugh or two. Did not expect they would choo in a train of asthmatic guffawing till we barely revised a single thing during the 3 hour break. Deep down, my inner soul was tired of crying. Got a little (unhelpful) kick after Nedd told me that she could see the tearful me under my laughing coat. Somehow, watching my buddy laugh her lungs out cheered me up with a twisted thought of 'at least I'm making someone else happy, ain't I?'. Nope, not heading for some sacrificing-happiness-of-oneself-to-make-others-happy bullshit because that's just attention-craving crap, but I gotta say, seeing someone being joyful because of the jokes I pull out really glues a smile on top of my frown. Genuine smiles, of course - Don't frame it up just so I could sell myself a lie!

Hmm on the bright side, at least I get a short day's break as I'm having English for tomorrow. Hoping for the best for tomorrow, screwing up one favourable subject is already way more than enough for me! Better head off revising a little more idioms for tomorrow's essay, SPM's not something I could excel by the seat of one's pants!


All the best, SPM candidates! Cheers, Alanis xx.

Onision Saved My Life

It's midnight, I'm watching Onision's videos regarding self-harm & suicidal thoughts for psychological needs (to balance out my mind) and I felt this strange feeling of not knowing what's my next step to proceed. What can I do to continue fixing myself piece by piece, getting stronger day by day? My current answer's I don't know, not because I fell into my own hole again, but I don't seem to get a glance of chance of me getting help. Not on me this time.

To credit the someone whom really snapped me out of my near-death misery, I would say the person's Onision (aka Gregory Jackson). He's a YouTuber able to be considered as my favourite, makes straight up honest videos without a single fuck given, and speaks by experience. Scrolling back in time, I was severely depressed for numerous reasons - unfitting environment, moronic friendships, parents who find me unacceptable, eating disorders and more. Soon after months of terrible productivity, I took up a habit of blades & blood. Frankly, friends who noticed said words which never helped, instead unintentionally dug me a deeper hole. As I was always hooked up with YouTube during unsleepable nights & free time, the search bar I clicked then typed 'suicidal thoughts'. Onision popped out. And that's when I was given the first ever help.

It may sound crazy or insane to you guys about how obsessed I am to YouTube to even gain therapy from a social website. Well here's the thing, I have nowhere to go. My parents (sorry to say), they really don't give a single fuck about my mental health. I tried to hint them, instead they told me depression's shit & would never kill me & it's bullshit & I'm just trying to make my parents have pity on me and some other crap (including disowning me). Trust me, there's no other way my parents could play aid in my situation, one more step they come & I'd probably pull the trigger. Friends, not exactly a positive outcome for me either (I didn't really approached, I just distant myself). Some adults I know either advice me too much on irrelevant facts which irritates or they don't give a shit at all. Thus, this all leads to myself. I can't afford therapy sessions without my parents knowing, school counselling seems like the worst decision I could had went for, there're basically nothing I can call out for without my parents understanding. Now you see the light of why YouTube means so much to me.

Back to topic, I was watching his videos in autoplay rolling continuously, most are the same ones I used to watch last time when I was in an unstable state. One of the best attainment was that his one video made me stop cutting instantaneously (scars scars scars). The inspiration was always there, but the effect reduced itself. Here's my current situation; I'm swimming after I'd recover from drowning, but in a pool without ladders. I broke the wobbly position I stood, but now I'm stuck without a guiding light. I desperately need someone to talk to, a therapist for example, to get me running again. From replaying videos from YouTubers such as Hannah Hart & Onision, it's wonderful to know how they regain themselves from obtaining therapy help & becoming who they are today. And I don't ask for much, but just a helping hand I could grab on, someone I could express the grey side of me. People who know me would picture me as someone who laughs & smiles all the time even at 'lame' situations, that's the image I desire to portrait to the people around me. However, equilibrium flips itself 180° after only exposing one side of oneself. That's what getting me, watching amazing people go through a similar past as my current time by accepting who they are & getting help, but I don't own the opportunity to feel better. I suppose it's eligible for me to say it's unfair.

That's all I urge to write out from heart as my comments & feelings after rewatching numerous of Onision's life-saving videos. He really is amazing (p.s. we share the same birthday). Greg, if you're reading this, hope you get the thank you message & if you could do so, write or sound back as it would help so much.


Have a great weekend, Alanis xx.

Not Okay

Ignore this post if you're expecting an euphoric chapter of my story. Apologies for killing your assumption.

If you're going to ask me how I'm doing, here's a frank answer - I'm not okay. To shut my mouth is what I really want right now, but this enormous urge of mine to erupt my hiding heartache is overpowering my wanting. I don't want to brag neither complain about my shit that cause joyful humans to lose their smile & tear up, so please leave my blog for a second. Like I said, I created this blog also for my own necessity, it acts as my emotion's major egress, aka I'm spilling crap so I could at least breathe better. So for the sake of everybody's mood, delete this tab & go for a walk. Don't want to spoil the day of yours.

Alright, just me here right? Time to reveal the skeleton in the closet (I swear this is hard). I recently relapsed, and it was pretty much in awful shape. The reasons I chose to not tell, but it tumbled me back to day one. Mia befriended I, and I could sense Ana spending a visit soon. Like, really? Even my conscious mind had a clear vision that I was over them. All the gym commitment being frittered away? Gosh it's drowning me. I'm exceedingly tired of whining my crap to the peeps around me, plus to be honest, the feedback I receive sometimes are not the ones I hope to hear. So here I am, writing to chill myself as I have nowhere to punch a hole. Especially when you meet bummers who say such humans just whine for awareness. If you're one of them, go to hell.

Losing 4.5 pounds in 2 days doesn't seem so bad. Let it continue for a month or so, and I'll hit the point below the line. Half of my sense compellingly disagrees with such occurrence, yet the other half unconsciously clicks. If you understand how this bull works, you could probably relate the helpless state I currently float in. What hurts more to know is the response I got from my parents. I don't even bother to find aid anymore after hearing what they spat at me. It's just, stuff that you could never expect blabbering out from your guardians.

"You better not have it (depression). If you do, just leave the fam." There she said it, words that could never be erased. How does the world assume that I could obtain a real helping hand when my nearest & dearest lives fail miserably to accept who am I, or what I've become? Don't even get started with the source. There you guessed it, a source whom couldn't accept its doings. Out of the random, listening to Kodaline's High Hopes while gently spamming the keyboard annihilates my inner being so bad. Yes, grasp onto them high hopes, hopes with insights blurred. Hopes to stop the beeping monitor.

You're still here? What the heck. Just listen & grant me peace aites. I'm just gonna end it here before I continue to ruin your day with gloom. Nights.

Desuetude of Friendship

Alright here's the thing, I personally was a kid who believes that without friends by my side, I would go insane being alone (I mean too alone, alone is cool). Well, that thought was one of my first primacies years ago. Guessed it or not, there's always something that snapped, changing my perspective towards the fellow earthlings surrounding me. I would say that the fondness towards my friends changed for good (mostly) as I currently rarely deal with amity dramas that may cause tearful nights & 'I-don't-wanna-go-to-school" days.

If you're wondering what happened, nah I ain't telling you as I have readers who are involved in that awful incident (although I really do own the intention to slap the truth & honest thoughts into their faces so they would bear with guilt forever).

In these few weeks, I'd been experiencing touchy issues regarding friendship which are exhausting to care for. I don't know how to explain, but tiring's the word for it. Imagine if you're already not a friendship kind of person, you're not exactly sensitive to the emotions of your friends, but they kept bugging you, spilling emo thoughts hoping you could dive into their hardship, taking bullets for them. That's what I'm currently experiencing, and trust me, it's not fun being Superman at all. It's like I'm already carrying loads of shit to agonise about, and someone's trying to pull me into their well of darkness. Yes, I'm a caring person (sometimes I care too much), but I'm done with putting myself into people's problems when I already own enough.

To me, not caring much is a piece of cake (sounds evil heh), but drawing myself out of the trouble zone is a pain in the ass. I can't just say "Hey shut it with your problems man, keep them to yourself & rot", eh? Especially when I'm soft-hearted deep inside, it's a tough provocation for me to just leave a friend at the sidewalk, watching him/her wordlessly calling for help while lying lifelessly waiting for the sight of light. Yup what a hysterical rendition, but it's as literally felt as written. Of course, I gave in & fired blind chances to someone who once mattered to me, instead I got tugged multiple times into her dramatic incident, causing myself to revel 'sobful' months. Very not cool experience.

Woooooo.

Humans close to me (except Nedd) may not understand this ineffable harsh side of me, but this's how I truly execute life, how I try to keep the air around me breathable, how I could comfortably accept my doings. A raucous cutback of allies would highly occur, but it's how I roll. 'Cause why throw yourself into other deadfalls when you yourself can't even crawl out of your own trap?


Have a great weekend,

Alanis xx.

Lost in Fire

Waking up by the whiff of smoke

First sight's orange blaze with no sign of joke

A blink of an eye, I laid on bed awoke

Surrounded with white, my life seemed revoked

Lost both my guardians, I grew into stray

Playing with street pups's my lonely parfait

Lazy I'm not, as I toil in a cafe

Understanding one day, my luck may decay

Sometimes I wonder who I truly am

Bullied since five but failed to throw a damn

Tears often present, finding my life a sham

Soul possessedly riding on a downhill tram

One luckless day I met this tall guy

Tempted me with candy, hidden his sly

Tagging along to the alley nearby

A terrifying affair occurred, impossible to defy

Today I lie on the sidewalk as a trier

Head stuffed with thoughts & feelings so dire

Expecting death soon, covered with pyre

All I'll remember are the ones I lost in fire.

Aflame thoughts.

- Inspired by the boldness of living fire, its aliveness that's able to thieve true love.
  Here's my first narrative poem! What a fate the persona owns. -

Chalice of Air

Imagine being in a state
Unable to feel anything
Rage, sorrow, glee, love
As if emotions never existed in life.

Since the last few hectic months, I've been feeling awfully weird. To describe weird, I don't know how to. Emotions that used to bother me hastily stopped running its track, but trashing me in another worse way my inner army was never prepared for. I feel impossible to deliver what I perceive in heart into expressions. With a harsh saying, I couldn't even feel emotions normally anymore. I'm feeling empty inside.

Of all the different emotions that a person can have, empty is one of the most uncomfortable. To feel empty is to feel incomplete. It’s a feeling of something absent or missing inside of you, of being different, set apart, alone, lacking, numb. To someone who seems strong on the outside, yes it's a very scary experience. With that tigress cover I own, emptiness locked a laugh on my expressions when I'm sobbing deep inside. No matter how much I need to cry in order for me to explode my impurities, to balance my mind, it just won't happen.

A week ago, I attended an informal conference I was looking forward to. Not because of anything special, but I crave to spill the thoughts I long balled in heart. It was something really necessary to spill as it was a similar problem that changed me 3 years ago, unfortunately it's seems to be happening again. My past mistake years ago was that I never managed to say things out, which caused no one to understand my doings since then. I promised myself that I got to face a breakdown if it was needed, because trust me, I really really craved to get my thoughts splattered once and for all, to get rid of that stone in my heart.

But what happened? I didn't say it. I just couldn't do it in the manner I covet.

Worse is that a friend of mine stood up & fought justice for me, resulting her the lost of a dear friend. Blame's all on me, inducing this problematic I to endure another downhill of messed up sentiment. Of course I expressed her my deepest gratitude with a touch of gravitational guilt, but in the hub, how bleak I would want time to rewind itself so I could stop her from disclosing my moderately-confidential matter in a way I didn't favor. Chiefly, she made me felt remorseful with all the crumpled thoughts in my head, as if I wasn't bearing enough shots before that unwelcomed happening.

Instead of hoping my glass will soon be filled up with sanity, I pray that my glass doesn't possess a crack at its bottom, leaking away efforts of blood.

Alanis xx.

Unpredictable shut downs of lucidity really kills.

(I actually ended this painful write early as I'm starting to sink into vacuity again. Apologies.)

The Wonderland of Mine

"Good Night, daddy. See you tomorrow." I spoke with a soft voice towards my marble door, watching daddy's shadow disappear.

Hmm, a day spent well at cozy home, I though. Basic freedom, breezy sunlight, a kitchen to mess up with my still-in-practice culinary skills. Although it's a little sad being alone, at least I could be myself. Doesn't it feel extremely comfortable being so? Even though if I'm put through tough conditions, or even death, at least it's the real me on my cover. And that's all I ask for, a space to be myself.

Soon before I realised, my exhausted mind dozed off with my midnight thoughts as its lullaby. Across this dot, my souls has traveled into another dimension which its existence unknown. Only I can figure out the answer, but without an answer to search for. Confusing, ain't it? Well, people call them "dreams" or so. If I doesn't make you grin, then "nightmare"is its name. As what I prefer it to be named, "Wonderland". Inspired by Lewis Carroll. Finally, it sounds fair and mystical, good and bad combined into such a wonderful term. But the wonderland of mine ain't worth a smile at all.

"Tick-tock-tick-tock-ringggg....." a familiar sound woke my soul lying in another girl's body. As what it felt I was programmed to perform, I stood up and proceed to clean myself and get dressed. The first image that gave me a shiver was my uniform, hinting me that I was heading to an accident. Oatmeal for breakfast later, I sat my dad's car to what I call "Institution of Hell", as it was the only venue I was permanently coded to be someone else.

First step over hell's boundary, I could already feel the thickness of the air that caused me ill. The people around me, friends, rivals, unknowns, all made me felt lifeless in seconds. The inner me walked with an old man's stick while my cover seemed totally alright. Feared for conversations, I forced myself to sleep in the room I was ordered to be in. Oh, my internal soul, I meant. From the exposed, I looked like I was daydreaming through the rusted walls. Not even half a day was history yet.

During the break which I preferred as "Torture of Crowds", my coded self went to greet humans I envy. The hatred towards myself grew as there was no one else to blame except for me. Fortunately, I had control to get myself food so I could much my bites at a snail pace to prevent involving myself into any kind of chatter. My inner self teared up at this point, dying to wake up from this terrifying wonderland. Of course, a classical pinch stopped working since year 1865.

Back in our miserable boxes of erudition, my stopwatch was the one and only sight my eyes locked on. My traumatic brain calculated time to rain a drop of hope for my internal soul. Humans walk, run by my opaque body as if I wasn't an existence. Ignorance never tried itself as I guessed its outcome of waving hello. Sprawling on my dusty desk like a corpse left floating on the ocean, I ponder about why was this nightmare-ish wonderland fated on me, why wouldn't it accept a twist and just let myself be free for once. My rage grew but coding did its working numbing my unapparent feelings.

"Dear sun, you can rise anytime now." I begged in thoughts.

After what it felt like days, my real daddy snapped me out from a land I would die to never return. He informed me to get ready for a picnic by nine. I questioned him about school as the day's mad Monday, he answered, "Silly, yesterday was just Friday! Are you that eager for school, Alanis?"

And the cycle goes on.

Was that even a dream?

Upshot of a Pampered Kid

I was having dinner with my dad & my brother just an hour ago. We had our usual chats while omnom-ing, it was all cool until dad left the table.

I was whining about the bad haircut I just had this afternoon as it's way too short, Tim (my brother) just shot in saying that it suits me since I'm such a tomboy. The word "tomboy" fired me up because only people who fail to know me well enough would say that. I slapped in saying "well, at least I, your sister's manlier than you." He responded with an unexpected reply, saying he's cool being effeminate. Shocked, I told him evilly that his surprising reply is going to reach his crush's ear. Of course, he freaked out and tried to threaten me so his nightmare wouldn't happen.

My brother, threatening me? A joke I suppose! I told him that I could even posted it on social media so the world would know (which is what I'm doing right now, woops) and he suddenly jumped into serious mode. He slammed the dining table and walked away, assuming that he ended the talk. I, on the other hand wants to keep this cruel conversation going for a good reason (read on & you'll know) so I proceed to follow him, throwing taunts at him for a strong reply. 

"Oh, so this is how you solve your problems eh? Running away? Excuse me sir, but it's still laying right here & it's not going to shrink by it's own. What you're showing me is that you lose, and I get to spread your confession onto social media. Cool with that?" I said to his back. Instead of saving his own arse, he shouted "I don't know how to fix it alright! If I knew how, I wouldn't be what I am today!"

Me: "What do you mean by not knowing how to fix it? It's a freaking natural act that first requires guts so you don't run away from it before even ruminating. Hey, I was brutally bullied when I was a kid too aites, probably worse than yours. I managed to solve craps by myself so I don't stay afraid of school everyday. I don't have anyone to look up to, just myself. You still have a big sister to learn from sometimes. So telling me you don't know? Just another excuse you use to end chats."

Tim: "I don't know! I just don't know how to, alright?"

Me: "Don't you see what's the huge cause for things like that to happen? It's because you're extremely pampered by mom! See what happens when she's out of the country? No one's here to solve your problems, kid! Usually mom would throw me a timeout if I say things to you, giving you the thought that you win the game. Well face it brat, what can you do without her presence? Not even saving your own arse! You need to learn how to unravel your knots by yourself, Tim. You're not 8 anymore. This is why I don't argue with her anymore when she pampers you. The side effects are too much for my handling. Rather be on my own."

Tim: "Shut up! I just don't know how to! Yes, I'm running away from problems, because I don't know how to fix them!"

Eventually I left this never-ending conversation because my brother just keep shovelling the phrase "I don't know" into my face after everything I said. Hmm couldn't blame him for that though, to be frank he's pampered too much. I saw this coming since mom flew off to America, it's going to be different for him after losing his back up. The reason why I argued with my brother is because I want him to have a clear realisation of how bad mom's pampering made him what he is today. He always thought that it's great to have a one-sided warrior with him all the time, but what happens when mom's not around? Doomsday has arrived, bro. 

Hope he takes it in even it's hard for him to do so. Stop running away from your problems, Tim. Just face it like a man. One day, mom's not going to be there for you anymore. I'm just trying to help you here, like what a sister does. 

This pampered Bulldog is adorable though :3

Infatuated in Frail

Already self-minded, dreaming to execute tasks single-handed all the way, barely possible to endure other people's alterable imperfections, yup that's me. Go on, point those fingers, I won't object. At least I'm clear of my own traits, and never thought about twisting them three hundred sixty, a little amend is alright though. It's just that it keep's fucking up my logic in social every single day.

When I was still a kid who volunteered & gave truthful opinions from pure heart, people loathe me. For my dictatorial characteristic, my straight judgements. But deep down inside, all I wanted was to help out, to make things better, to strive for victory. With the tiny flaws I see, my itchy fingers can't help but to snap things right without taking its smooth turn. I have my ways of picking out people's dents & marks, harsh I would say, but there wasn't a chance it never soaked into their ears. To be exact, my way of correction works, but it was often misconstrue. Tired of it happening developed my permanent silence & hidden blames.

The day two days ago displayed my death in persuasion. Despite it's a function I head, I lost my rock-like viewpoint. I gave in, loosely allowing people trampling over choices I should make. Not a surprise, my once stubborn correct-all-fault trait was indelibly numbed by the past happenings. My inner self was going wildfire, but I couldn't voice out at all. Probably because I couldn't manage its side effects I'll earn later on. Frail heart I own, damn I hate myself.

Wake me up before I do something immutable, please.

An Unforeseen Attempt

(Warning: Contains graphic that some may find triggering & disturbing.)

Around a week ago, a punishing covenant was made between my senior & I. One of its chapters is I need to stop cutting instantaneously which is scarcely possible. But I forcefully stroll along with it as the other side of the deal was something he must achieve for his own sake. I really want him to do so.

Well, everything went smooth until yesterday. It went psychotic, or should I say, wrong.

Before history lesson started, I was feeling ill, not physically but mentally. After not cutting myself for days, I'm losing it pretty badly. My primary output of poor feelings taken away from me in a sudden wasn't a helpful doing at all. As expected, I broke down on my desk with my favourite sweater blanketed my upper body, hiding away my fragility. It was pointless, sniffing my puffy nose & drowning my cheeks with tears for minutes, staring aimlessly at the scribblings on the desk. My mind was soon pervaded with half-baked thoughts while my common sense faded away. At that moment, it is powerfully proven to me that cutting was my drug. Like cigarettes & heroin, it's impossible to draw this inimical addiction to a halt in seconds. My head rolled around, attempting to free myself from this absurd crack-up. Tears just wouldn't stop travelling pass my dejected face no matter how hard I try to picture happy thoughts.

The collapse paused for a moment when my history teacher entered the class. After vigorously wiping my stained face with my sleeves, I laid on my desk as if I were dead, or waiting for it to happen. My sense shuffled thoughts around, playing its role as a distraction. Out of the blue, it landed on my suicidal thoughts real hard. Images of my pictured death flood my mind projector as if it's encouraging me to end this once and for all. Tempted to do so, I grabbed my blade from my bag and gently placed it onto my left wrist. For a minute I knew I wasn't going to execute my temporary vision because of the agreement I promised with the senior whom I trust. My urge for him to change is so enormous I held onto the blade tight. Another reason was because I wasn't daring enough to do it. I kept thinking about the luckless person who finds my body, the regrets I know I can never take.

Suddenly my previous thought shook me a little. I said I wasn't daring enough? How's that so? It's like saying "Alanis, you're admitting you're a COWARD. You're a WEAKLING who can't stand pain of just cuts of a tiny blade? What's wrong with you? Aren't you tired of losing to others? Then do something! Prove that you own no fear!"

That did the job.

Unintentionally after the voice in my head pronounced its last word, my right hand held the blade up & in a blink, it slashed across the wrist of my left arm. Not knowing what I did was actually divergent than the past cuts, I turned my head back and stared at my wounded arm.

And oh god, I actually did it. Very deep.

Just days after the words.

In shock, I stoned while observing the wound unseal widely. The vein can be seen as it's exposed to air around us. In an instance, blood began to flow tremendously fast out of my gaping cut. At that moment, accomplishment was my biggest triumph while hysteria grew second in me. It woke me up making me realise I'm actually in class, wrist spilling out gory red, seating at the most front row, teacher only few steps away. With no choice, I had to stop the bleeding or else I would had died in school, making a bloody scene out of nowhere. Argh so close.

Half an hour later, I managed to calm myself down as I already swallowed my drug deep enough. I kept thinking, "Woah, I actually done that, I actually own the guts, holy crap that was deranged." The cut was so severe it needed stitches (I didn't go get them though). But at the same time, I sort of broke the agreement between my senior & I. Hmm talking about terms I actually didn't, because I only agreed on not cutting, but what I did was to commit suicide. So yup, it's different I suppose.

So deep it hurts to the extend I can't play my buddy here ;(

"Addiction isn't about using drugs, it's about what the drug does to your life."

The Boy Who Changed

It all began two years ago. Nothing much, our first glance of each other in school. It's astounding that we only met after three years being in the same environment. But our meet was a mistake I should had known at the start.

The actual stare was in January 11, 2014, where we share the same band in some club I'm pretty active in. I was the assistant head of the band, which means I'm sort of his 'senior' although he's a year older than me. During ice-breaking session, he was sort of the only person responding to questions, I guess that's when I situate more awareness on him than the others. Without regards, we started chatting online almost every day. He would began it with questions concerning the club, then slowly drifting away to unrelating contents that kept the conversation going. To be frank, I was comfortable with this happening, as I felt being mildly cherished in a way I was never before. Our talks were arbitrary, which is something I looked forward to after coming back from boring school.

Months passed, our chats never came to a halt. Our relationship became distinct, but without the terms of love. I would say a guy best friend of mine. We shared our life happenings, glee, hatred, everything exactly. I was temporarily out of solitude, surprising I know. The indelible chapter was during the night of a camp in a forest. We lay supine on cold beige ground, head to head, enjoying the beauty of dense midnight blue and glowing stars. It was a phenomenon not everyone could live, a memory I could never forget.

But I was drowning in oblivion.

Weeks later, we skyped about random thoughts again. Out of the blue, he created an epiphany. He first asked me for a favour, I agreed. He then unveil words I never hope to hear.

He fell in love with a close friend of mine.

I stunned like rock, not knowing what to feel. Lucky that we weren't skyping through video. Momentarily shutting down my feelings, I congratulated him with emojis and suggested ways for his success to chase his girl of dreams. Minutes later I ended the call, breaking down forthwith on my pillow. I suddenly realise I was crushing on him all the while. Our bond was so ephemeral I didn't know how to drag it to an end.

Soon, his relationship with the girl he love shattered into bits without a single doubt from the spectators. It was kind of presumed from their different types of traits that hardly click.  Me on the other hand was crippled, vanquished. I found out he treated other girls like how he treated me. To be more specific, he was basically flirting to every other girl I know. I attempted to let it go, but it couldn't break free unless I spit the truth. And I did after a deep breath during our last friendly chat. It certainly didn't went well, but my gloom soon freed itself into the past. Hooray?

Time pass while I observe the change of our lives. Soon I thanked myself for not crushing too hard on him. He isn't the guy I thought he is. He took a turn after his graduation. Changed his looks from smart to trashy. I don't know. I sort of taste grief of not understanding him utterly before I lay my crush, but also because I don't want him to change. I want him to stay as that boy who's neat, astute, kind. Maybe he doesn't know he once owned these qualities, but he truly did, at least in people's eyes. To be honest, I experienced a dash of relief and joy too as I'm completely over him.

To the boy who changed: If you're reading this, pause and refresh your mind. You're driving on the wrong side of the road, and it's not too late to make a U-turn. Change not for me or the people around you, but yourself. Please.

Dying for a Man's Best Friend

I know I'm extraordinary in a way, but it's weird. My whole life I dream to have a man's best friend. A pup, a dog, or even a cat. It's a creature I would die to have as I was always that left out guy, that isolated friend at the front of the class while everyone hides at the back. Worse is I thought I was over with it, but currently my frequency of feelings just went wildfire, for reasons I don't even know.

It sounds like crap but I really feel like I own no friend in a universe I don't mean to belong. Of course I have friends, but to be honest, everyone knows that most friends are just 'surface friends' that look cool on the outside, but rarely had a conversation with. Well I myself don't give a damn about surface friends 'cause why? Why waste your caring soul to look cool & popular on the outside? I seriously don't get why, and I rather own a soul partner that both sides care & love each another.

Head bump!

Yes it's random I started on this crazy topic, but I couldn't stand it any longer. Many friends of mine may not know this, but I was "gifted" a true hatred for gossips & stupid chats. If hate's not the word, then tired it is. Because these awful chats bring me to nowhere but pointless enthusiasm & sometimes anxiety. Plus it doesn't benefit anyone, so why should I join? But don't get me wrong, of course I would lend an ear if it was from someone who really matters, someone who's worth my listen (my bff's an excellent example). Back to the ones who gossip everyday in class, is that what your life's full of? I don't mind telling you, it annoys me every single day, and I don't join them since I woke up from being an underdog or some sidekick, officially done being one.

My family never understood why I wanted a pup so much, that much till I can look at dogs through their viewing panels in pet shops for an hour; that much till I could risk myself & try to bond with growling street dogs. Because to me, it's something I needed the most. I lack sociality, an output to express myself, self-love & stability. I don't ask for much but just a man's best friend, you're telling me that's too much? They think I just want one to play with it whenever I feel like to, and then dump it back to the cage when I don't have time for it, which is one of the things I couldn't stand when pet owners do that. Even worse, pointing fingers at me predicting that I would do that to a dog? It's hurtful as heck, ain't am I already hurt enough?

Soldier companions are the warmest ones.

Still, at the end, I believe no one is going to get this. My love for animals is that enormous & my need for it ain't a millimetre tinier than it either. Guess I gotta wait till I have my own house when I'm bigger. Though I doubt that I can even touch that stage of life.

Trying to be The Girl

When I was 7 years old, I remember attending my friend's birthday party. My whole class attended so it was crowded. After the birthday girl unwrapped all her gifts, we proceeded to playtime in another room. My friends started playing with Barbie Dolls which was normal to me, but I went to play Hotwheels with the boys. I was unnoticed for 5 minutes until some boy shouted, "Hey Alanis, whatcha doing here? Aren't you suppose to join the girls?" I answered with a chill that I dislike Barbie Dolls because they were too girly, the boys started laughing with the term "gay", later including the girls too. I sat there with a frown and walked away, not really understanding what was so funny.

I was almost done with elementary school as I was often teased by my "friends" about my look and likings. I had a boycut most of the time & love playing basketball & football (although I suck at them). Even when I had long hair, I hate to brush it & tie them up before heading to school. I started to know that I couldn't go on without wearing a bra anymore which was a nightmare. As time goes by, I found that I cannot be a girl the way other girls are girls (at least not by being myself). I just like being carefree without having the need to close my legs when I sit or eat the right amount (I eat a lot - I loveeee food). 

I began to change during the time in high school. I wore dresses, tried speaking the way girls speak. I did sports not as rough as I usually do, which didn't help at all. My look was judged by popular girls who had the ideal bodies boys would go for. I shouldn't, but thanks to my sensitivity, I started to control my food portions. When I saw results, my excitement roared as I went over the limit. I felt happiness & bliss when I shot an underweight reading on the scale, I had confidence wearing tight clothes. People noticed, and they praised. So this is the way a normal girl should be? Well that's tough I would say. Not to mention, Ana & Mia were once my friends, Mia's still hanging on.

Played monkey bars till my skin fell off, woops.

Currently I'm in the wobbly state of Ana. Sometimes I eat a lot, sometimes I starve myself. Sometimes Mia steps in to help as she's the only one who cares. I still stick with my boy hair as it's the only 'myself' I have on me. Boys continue to tease while I act cool with it, worst was when a boy pulled my hair to test was it a wig or not. I have feelings, and why don't put in some effort & respect them? I don't ask for much, but at least allowing me to be the one I was born to be.

Yes I'm trying, although I don't have it considered enough. 

Past and Present

2nd month of 2015 is here, I hope everything's doing fine for you peeps out there! As for me, I would prefer the term 'neutral'.

To be frank, 2015's sort of harsh on me, but in a good way too. I received challenges I never thought I would face until I took a hard turn in life last December. It wasn't called giving up, but letting go. Difficult to explain. Like there was this active programme of my social life I like or don't like being at (I don't even know), and my head told me to get out but my heart couldn't, so I stayed for years until suddenly lightning struck, I was finally willing to let go (realising staying don't give me crap) so I did. But it wasn't letting go total, because I got a position and getting rid of it isn't fancy, so I'm currently stuck with it. It just felt different because in a sudden, I lost all the passion for it and I actually dare to not think about it every single second. Super relieved.

Reason why I stayed for years? I don't know. There were two thoughts I had. I stayed because I felt Ohana, I felt like I'm at a place I'm actually invited to be, allowed to join and bond. It touched me deep because I was sort of an unwanted kid during that time. But the other side of it, which is why I felt like leaving is because yes, Ohana right? Everyone was close and stuff, but I still felt like the odd one among everyone there. Thought there were misunderstandings or crap, but it was true. I got confessions and apologies behind the real scenes when everyone think I was sick or overthinking. I don't tell because telling would only make things worse. Trust me, I tried, I regretted big time. Sorry but the word 'trust' disappeared in my dictionary long time ago.

As a typical Scorpio, I'm freaking competitive in mostly everything. I aim for the best as long as I know I could do it, and that helped nothing during that time. I aimed for higher statuses year by year, working my ass off behind. People noticed of course, but for someone else, people noticed more. First year my friend got it, jobs given to her were more than mine. To me it was a bad thing because to compete, you whole heartily complete your tasks right? But what happens if you run out of tasks? And of course your higher-rank friend works her blood off to finish hers too. Lastly, she was told of doing a great job by completing such many tasks while I stood there thinking,"HOW THE HECK DO YOU DO MORE THAN HER IF YOU DON'T HAVE ANYTHING MORE TO DO?" 

I sort of shut myself down so that the thought doesn't bother me every single second. 

Yeah, I wasted years competing for nothing but thoughts that severely distracted me from my studies, family, friends and sports. Call me an idiot, I deserved it. Back to the present, yeah I gave up all the competition and stuff, raised the white flag. It was a new space for me, not needed to think about negativity and worry about the future I didn't even want to own. I got a position, not a really high one so it doesn't really need any of my Scorpio traits for that. Great to be back to myself. *smiles*

My full time companion.

But of course, I still feel a little out of place sometime when the committed team gathered for projects or activities and I'll be there like,"Should I give it all in? Or should I just hold it back and show that I'm done? I could give it all in to make the team score, but... erm..." I just stay at my comfort zone to prevent my past from returning. Free me from those nightmares! 

Wish everything would get a step ahead from this year onwards, grant me a chance to actually reply people "Yeah, I'm grand. I'm on a roller coaster that only goes up, my friend." (TFIOS is amazinggg). For now, everything seemed okay I guess? Well let's see while time flies. Au revoir :)

Lost & Gone

What would you do if you found out the one thing you loved so much you committed years for it and suddenly, you lost all the passion for it just because of one incident that changed everything?

I didn't had a choice but to give it up for something much more important, but now watching my friends continue to achieve one of my biggest dreams, it breaks me so hard I isolate myself from the society. Once a crazy wild girl then turned into this quiet insecure kid. People noticed and asked, but nothing seemed able to repair my lost soul anymore.

My life sort of tumbled downhill, my bad for not waking up, but I didn't want to. Then ana got to me, I don't even care about exams I skipped most of it, spent most of the time in my room staring blankly at the ceiling. If people ask me out I would deny no matter how exciting it sounds, I just couldn't feel the meaning of life anymore.

Looking at the mirror, it's not me I see, but someone else who's hiding me beneath it.