Awful Stereotypes

Few days ago, I attended my first ever Sociology class in my first week of college. What's Sociology, you ask? Well, it is the scientific study of social behaviour or society, including its origins, development, organisation, networks & institutions (basically humans in groups, I think?). Yup, the field is pretty wide to me, and I chose to sit in this subject as it'd probably decorate my Communications major. Lots to memorise/understand, at least I own my liking to this subject.

One of the subtopics I learnt from class last Tuesday was a term you can spot from the title above - Stereotypes (no I did not learn what's above the stars). A term widely used in society nowadays, it is also something we shouldn't practice & model in the 20th century. Here's a thing you gladly discover about me today: I HATE people who stereotypes. In such a rapidly-growing & advanced decade, there is no way I can understand why these doltish humans chose to follow the view of old/dead people of their same kind. Like come on, man. Why would you think Asians are freaking smart anymore? Most of us were forced to bury our faces into books & dictionaries when we were young, don't say you're still in support of that torturing childhood story! Anyways, here are a few stereotypes I loathe to the extend I'd spit on horrible humans who practices them.

1. Tomboys are gay.

Alright guys let's end it all here for once. WHY IN HEAVENS WOULD YOU THINK SO? Just because they dress like a boy & skateboard to school, there's no way that makes us fall for the same gender as we are. I'm not saying there are no gay tomboys, but I'm spreading the awful logic of this faulty stereotype to the world so inconsiderate souls would stop thinking so. Do you know how hard is it for us when boys cut off the affection for tomboys as we are stereotyped as gays? I have guy friends saying shit to me as if I don't get hurt like girly girls, pulling my hair thinking I'm wearing a wig (why) & of course, thinking I'm in love with my bestie. So please, just stop it all for us cool people's sake. 

2. Asians are good at math.

Nope nope nope, at least not for me. I HATE & suck at math, even the calculator doesn't sound like help to me.

3. People with beatifully decorated houses are rich af.

Okay this is not a popular one you'd hear your buddies rant about, but it's something I can definitely relate to. Yup the interior design of my house is throughly-thought & my family did spent a lot on our warm cozy shelter, it's because you see, it's our fucking home. We rather spend our hearts onto a place where we'd enjoy lovely times with our closest relatives than waste it on stuff like fashion & food etc. As a matter of fact, we rarely spend our notes on entertainment like going to the movies & karaokes. Thus in conclusion, we don't buy IKEA furniture just to look like we're top class citizens, I can hardly afford my college education so shut up.

4. YouTubers are (expected to be) extroverts & fun in real life.

Firstly I'd like to declare most YouTubers ARE fun in the non-virtual society, allow me to refer to the other small half of the YouTuber community. I'm an extroverted-introvert, for example. I do love to laugh & shake new hands all the time, but it's also one of my struggles to actually greet & make new friends. I constantly try so hard to squeeze myself into crowds & try to be cool in order to have unknown classmates approach me, but I was unintentionally trained to be an anti-social kid. Here's a tiny favour I'd ask for, next time you see us, feel free to greet & hug us first before we nervously run off! 

That's all I suppose. High five to you if you agree with me! Don't worry if you don't though, I'll still give you a high five then drop it off once you're into it. Nah blame's not on me, you're slow.

Hope you enjoyed the read & stay beautiful on the inside aites! Alanis xx.

Unknot My Head

You know what's tremendously hard for me? I'm talking about something that constantly bothers me in a way that steals the healing pill away. Not asking for it, but people barely understand.

It's what you're looking at right now. This blog, its content, these words.

I'm not sure about how much people around me know, but I don't want them to. Yet I write pessimistic shit on a public site expecting people not to discover. At the same time, I need alive ones to look at it, balancing the equation of expressing & listening. It's confusingly complicated, I know. Now the intention of this read is to explain to you what's so frustratingly tough, something I can never overcome. I regret creating a two-sided reflection of myself. Chose to hide my horrible imperfections & tried so hard to impress for a life. After all these years, I could say, I succeeded? People would refer me as the tough little daredevil who does crap she like. Yet inside, I contain so many untold secrets that once I expose, people won't believe me, because of what I reflected in the past years. And that's what scares me, when I now found realisation & want to save myself. Wanting to express myself through words & all, but can't seem to do it with an unknotted heart. For so many reasons, two being destroying all the long-built impression & letting down humans who somehow look up to me.

I just can't do it without shutting both eyes.

How could I feel comfortable publicly writing on my blog that I'm struggling with disorders, knowing my juniors could see them yet I need an understanding audience outside my world? How could I possibly express my terribly low-leveled self-love without people lowering their expectations from me? I'm that senior who sits down & listens to another person's problems, later helping them overcome their issues & giving them warmth; because I'm good at helping from experience. I know there are millions of souls out there like me, struggling to grab a lifebuoy in the middle of darkness without turning the lights on. But it's just so difficult as I already projected a crumpled image of myself. I'm not as strong as I look, instead I suffer from crap only very insecure humans cry from. I care so much about judgements I shouldn't care about, causing me to overthink anything and everything. I'm that sensitive, and it's just worse when people don't know.

People ask me whether I'm gay or bi although I'm just a straight tomboy. And it deeply scratches the sensitivity in me. Speaking about being a tomboy, people rarely lend us the warmth, because we look like we don't need as much love as girly girls do. Can you imagine a tomboy wrestling with anorexia & bulimia? A tomboy who has depression & harms herself? Probably nope, as we look like we don't give a fuck about insecurities, don't we. Adds up on how it's harder for me to open up compared to girly girls, how hard it is to be accepted into society. I remember the first time I told a friend I trust about my condition, she just couldn't believe it & thinks I'm kidding. Another thinks I'm searching for attention. All because I don't look like a weakling who would force herself to throw up dinner every night, cry herself to sleep & tattoo her arm with a blade.


I'm only a tomboy with a scar & so much you don't know.

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.

Soon-To-Be Freshman!

Oh gosh, the speed of time is really intimidating to my snowballing maturity.

What my young heart feels is that I just enrolled into kindergarten yesterday, went for a one day trip with my primary school buddies, water-splashing the birthday student after the bell rang, finishing my first scout camp as a idiot who doesn't know any life surviving skills and the list goes on and on.

And now, I'm just a footstep away from my next milestone - college.

Honestly, that's petrifying. Saying it is a piece of cake; but to act, that's something my mouth would stutter on. Considered that I just went through 5 years of high school which carved me from cave to rock knocked me a huge sense of realisation that I have to begin flourishing my responsibilities & stop arguing over kid shit, but doesn't it seem crazy to us that in a blink of an eye all words are enough said & it's time to face upcoming adulthood? I mean, frankly we're not ready, our age show prove doesn't mean our souls are. Shivering little mouses we are, blimey! Our world is about to get real!

Alright that's enough dramatic mess, let's just toughen up (or at least act like it).

Yup, I'm becoming a freshman soon. 37 days to be exact, as orientation day's on January 20. It's insane because you see, it's a total different level of education system I'm soon dealing with. Immense independence, intraspecific competition, resolute use of creativity, extreme commitment, the hunger to thrive- all these essential qualities in order to achieve success in my next milestone are very easy things to say but difficult things to master. Procrastination won't be our unprofitable drug anymore, but a dream crusher that we must not allow it to linger around. The enemy level between laziness & I would rise sky high. Will I be able to keep my heart beating? I don't even know how to answer that question!

Signed up for ADTP in January intake at Sunway College (majoring in Communication), I would say it's a little nerve-wrecking as I'm not entirely sure of how the journey goes - how do I wisely pick my minors, how do I complete credit hours, how do I act like a normal college student who knows how to get her shit done and so. I really want to ace this college milestone, but I'm not as prepared as the best I can be. Well, I also have to stop fretting about future education while I'm currently being surrounded by a bunch of humans partying on a sleepover night. What on Earth am I doing to enjoy my holidays?!

Better get back to dancing to Troye Sivan's hits & playing board games. Have a super duper exciting holiday aites!


Cheers, Alanis xx.

Permanently Tucked In Jeans

You know the everyday thoughts you receive throughout the day, most of them being random & all, maybe even related to unicorns & penguins. I have mine too, and some of them meet the qualification to end up on this simple little blog.

Today while my butt warmed up the passenger seat of my dad's car, getting a second ride to my future college's Open Day, I looked in the mirror wondering about how I look & did I wear proper enough to not let myself down in front of lecturers & administrators. It was nothing fancy to start with, just a blue jersey-material tee with sweat pants, toed with a pair of muddy trainers. Basically, I look like shit & could look better with effort, but somehow I didn't care. Then the thoughts came in about what would people think of my thoughts regarding this topic. And it went deeper, more irrelevant & so. I'm a deep thinker in weird stupid thoughts, you see. But these are the things my creativity generator fueled on in order to keep my interests running. My blog, for example.

Sums my life up.

Anyways, back to topic before I float away again. My thoughts found me the urge to write a post about my thoughts on getting dressed every single day. In a way people could understand relatably, so here's it. First, I'd like to express that getting dressed irritates the heck out of me sometimes, in a way similar to how girls stare at their wardrobe complaining they have no clothes to put on, but with a mini twist. I have so many aspects swirling around in my head when it comes to dressing myself. Not to look like a guy but my clothes make me look like one, not wearing the same clothes over & over again, trying to look feminine but at the same time look cool, all these inessential judgements kills me. What's worse is after tucking on & flipping out clothes for half an hour, I often end up losing the motive to dress to impress & would just put on pyjamas and leave the house. The girl who gives zero fucks.

I struggle more on not wearing the same stuff over & over again than not looking like a guy (nah it's the same). My favourites you could possibly see me wear 4 times a week are my black skinnies, the only pair of converse I have & printed jerseys. These items are always on me 24/7 because their simplicity expresses my style. Yes I do wash them, so don't keep asking me why I'm so boring. Might be surprising to you, I do love crop tops, muscle tanks and more feminine clothing but they always get changed out before I leave my room. I just can't accept them tucked on me for a reason I myself don't understand, but I'd love to wear them out! Skirts are a no no, doesn't mean dresses stick in the same category as them. Although I only own two summer dresses, I'm dying to get more but at the same time I suck at getting them on me before leaving my bedroom. How's that a struggle for you guys?

As a tumblr-ish 17 year old who definitely has a feminine touch in her that people often unintentionally smack that off by hurting insults, fashion does play a huge part in my life although I don't prove much of it everyday. I'd love to make fashion hauls & Ootd vlogs based on my style on YouTube but I constantly have a feeling that people won't accept that coming out from me. Probably because I'm a straight tomboy who has spilled my wrong first impression to people, now having to live up to it. I'm not what I seem to appear most of the time, so you should learn how to stop locking a personal judgement of someone's look once you knew (or thought you knew) them. And hey, I'm not exactly a boring human being who can survive with wearing cargo shorts & a dusty tee all the time, didn't get my dad's genes for this one! (Sorry dad)

Staph.

Nonetheless, just dress to be you, the real you I mean. Sometimes people just don't care.

Stay crazy, Alanis xx.

Why Communications, but not Film?

So here's the other blog post which I promised you guys from my last write, read on!

You might be awfully curious about why I went with a Communications major rather than Film, especially when one of my ambitions is to work in the film industry. Long but important story I'm about to tell you, you might even learn something from this meaningful write!

Me excited for college.

First of all, let's compare the real career choices that can be offered after graduating from both degrees. For film, there are the usual film-related gigs available (camerawork, editing etc), producing & directing are the main ones I love. Other than that, the larger percentage consists of commercial management, sales, business, clerical & much more. You see, the percentage of getting a hollywood-related job is only 12%. But hey, don't get me wrong! By now you should understand that I'm quite a risk-taker who would not pull myself back just because it's a 12%, just let me finish up the next paragraph for me to make a full explanation on this aspect.

For communications, this now popular & widely known field basically covers mostly everything because it's a social thing (duh)! With its degree, there's a huge area of careers available like public relations, event management, advertising, journalism, broadcasting & even social media! This actually includes a few film-related gigs like directing & producing with a little film studies on hand, get the picture?

Now time for the real comparison based on numerous aspects. One of the main reasons I picked ADTP is not just because I want to study in America, but I want to live there. The plan after graduating is to get a stable job so I'll be given a working Visa, years later a Green card. To get a stable job, I have to pick the one that's safe & would work on plan, which is communications as there are more secure jobs available than that of film studies. Besides, if things don't work out the way I want & I end up flying back to Malaysia years later, a communications degree can still provide me a great career here! Imagine having a film degree here, it's difficult to actually get an enjoyable job (for me, at least).

Talk about interest, I definitely have more towards film than communications, but honestly, why pick the favourite so I could enjoy 3 or 4 years of further studies then suffer the worse later? In my position, I'm currently not financial stable, nor could I afford to pay all my college and uni fees without searching for ways to work things out. I don't have a backup plan if I fail, not like my rich friends who have their parents's business to continue if they can't find a job after uni. My wallet's not fat, I can't go for higher studies after graduating from uni to get a secure dream job later on. Dodging all these comparisons, it's not true that I don't own interest for communications. As it happens, I love communications too! Hence, it's not exactly a pain in the heart for me to make a choice like that. I'm totally cool for it, presentations & talks are my thing (although I suck at it).

I hope the stuff above clearly (and long-windedly) explained to you about my choice of a college major. Now the advice part - First, always pick what you have interest in no matter how crazy it sounds to you or other people. If you love music or art so much you want to take its degree, go for it! There's no such thing as 'music is for people who can't get good grades' or some other stupid saying from foolish adults. Next, pick what's best for you. Lay out a draft of your future, analyse it with mature thoughts. Don't just think about how fun your college life can be, but the life you earned after throwing your graduation caps for the last time. Also, don't follow your friends in everything & their study choices (seriously!) People who does this are always fated with regrets after finishing their first semester when they figured out that they are in the wrong field, studying the wrong major. I'm sure you don't want to switch courses after studying crap you hate for months (unless you have a fat wallet, then give it a go).

Yup, that bloody rich.

Hope this post helps you to think twice before making one of your biggest life decisions, definitely more obliging writes regarding college education to come!

Stay smiling, 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.

Questioning My Sexuality

Hmmm. This is going to be a back-breaking one. Just let me breathe for a second, alright.

Yesterday around 6.30pm, I stormed around the house looking for plans to entertain myself instead of hitting the books. A hair clip sitting on the cupboard caught my sight, therefore I grabbed it & went for the mirror in the office. Finally a solution to fix my grass-like bangs, I thought. With a little swish swash, the hairdo's done, I stared at myself, unknowingly feeling a slight dissatisfaction towards the image reflected on the glass.

I realised that I did not like the way I was presented to society.

Modelled like some A class student with geeky hair just missing her thick glasses, I pulled off the hair clip causing an unintentional pompadour standing above my forehead. Fingers began to violently play with my side locks while my facial senses gave a confused & dejected look. The turf-like hair was a result of an untrimmed pixie cut looking forward to become dashing long hair. This clear idea slapped me awake, questioning me the same question that never left since I was 5. Who am I trying to become?

If you're once or currently a close ally of mine, you should had noticed the constant irritating changes of my hair length since late primary school. When it was long, I would want it short; When it's short for some time, I would want it to be long again. And the cycle flows on till this day. My gray matter fought the war & lit up the lightbulb, forcing the evoke of the reasons why I do such repeating actions. In a sudden I realised, short boycuts are my ever identity, but I keep them long to match the cast I was fixed to be, not the one I am.

Recalling my childhood afflictions opens up the wound. Shopping the boy's department, invading the Hotwheels section in Toys R' Us, picking on drums instead of ballet. All these divergence that are now no longer uncommon meant something. Even my macho personality kills it. Guessed it or not, this once lead me to think I was gay, but it felt so wrong; I never once had feelings for a person whom I share the same gender with, and my crushes are laid on men. So it was concluded that me being gay was impossible. Thus I'm bisexual neither (this probably needs time to tell me so), leading me to the familiar one of a kind.

Well it's not exactly surprising, but I'm a tomboy for sure. For those who aren't sure about the term, here's wikipedia for you. Being one doesn't actually terrifies me as I find it a cool fitting in society, but what I'm scared of is the probability of me being bigender. Contrary to bisexual, bigenders still fall in love with the person they share the opposite sex with. But what's heavy that this word's carrying is that it refers to the constant switching of genders varying to situations & dysphoria is present. Now, what's on me is I don't own the constant gender swapping part, I can only imagine myself falling in love with men, but I'm positive that my hair switches play a sign as gender dysphoria. So if you question me, am I bigender? The answer's I don't know. It all lands on time to execute its thing.

Ellen Page's my tomboy bae. <3

To be honest, writing this post's so hard. Revealing my true identity feels amazing, but the surroundings that matter owns a mild chance of grabbing acceptance. For instance, my parents. They would flip if they find out, and it's only the matter of time for it to occur. Plus they wouldn't allow me another boycut. It sucks being locked as someone you're not for the pride of others. I swear Asian parents are not as nonjudgmental as the Americans.

To wrap the ribbon around the edge, I'm just going to continue being me because hey, I don't live for others but for myself. It doesn't matter if you refuse to accept the logic, only my opinions weight. Could use the support. And check out this short film 'Boy', love it so much as it somehow relates. Would also love to express my respect for the people who came out to their true individuality, may the force always be with you!


Have a wonderful week & I'll see you soon. :)

Alanis xx.

Absurd Thoughts

It's just eccentric. It's just funny. Can't say it's not me either. Weird dreams, out-of-topic mind bubbles, all them plain absurd thoughts. Merely possible for someone else to think like me.

Born with the looks of a female, entertains myself with Marvel action figures, yet I am attracted to men. Don't get started with the surrounding heartbeats, even I myself tearfully scratch my head with repeating words suffocating to free themselves.

What am I?

Dreadfully loathe high school studies, but understanding fail to meet its point when achieving an average grade without a single touch of books was bound as my piece of cake. Yes, some humans hate me for that as lies of flawless lies pressured them to do so. They never question as I never asked, fair enough for the bland society to live with. But in serious air, the code just never seem to crack its walnut shell. Inquires transformed into engraved letters, embracing the term 'vanquished'.

Flairs were overflowing the barrel for me. I own too much. Not all up to standards, neither one loses its tail. Do I enjoy them all? Not entirely. Yet the stars I'd die to catch threaten my joy with fear. Falling, broken bones, the overlooked ones that matter shivers me. A handstand sounds far-fetched enough, furthermore an Ollie I dream to master? Shattering trembles but without dead hope.

Gazing ashen towards where my eyes comfortably sit, messaging me whys even Google couldn't please. "Days umbrellas never nudge open" is my saying of dunno, I suppose. Hearing rain pour reminds me of an old video game, leading myself a drown into the intense storyline I shortly live. Desperate feels expressed for the Origami Killer.

So much absurdity happening while I hazard guesses on my history paper. Well, that was weird.