This is a deep post. I am truly sorry.

There are times where you enjoy yourself so much that you forget about everything - who you are, who you were, and everything who you would like to be. Those are the the moments where you throw your head back laughing, screaming something unintelligible over the rush of happiness. Those are the wonderful, precious moments.

But those moments don't last forever and they never will - for if you do not solve the problems that give you grief in the long run, you'll never be able to rid yourself of the permanent troubles that plague you. That is probably something I've learned through these years, but it's also something that doesn't seem to really manifest in  my brain. Time after time I only come to a realization only when it's too late, when problems are so worn beyond recognition that you can't even comprehend whether a solution is possible or not. I'm uncertain, at this point, whether this is something all humans face - but then again, it has to be. Everyone makes mistakes, and everyone falls. What you make out of it is up to you - but everyone has trouble getting through things and picking themselves up again. Everyone says that we should always rely on our friends - but that itself is a concept foreign to me. 

I was just looking through old blogs of mine I had written throughout high school. They were terrible, so to speak - but in the circumstances, me being me - I could understand and see where I was coming from. No matter how much I despised the old me, it was still a version of me - the crazy, manic Anne who did nothing but complained and whined and hated and ranted and raged and screamed to the world about how empty and useless and pathetic and shit the entire universe was. And there were reasons, of course - the old Anne just never knew how to deal with them. The old Anne was pretty shit, I would say - the old Anne was seriously batshit crazy, and to some extent she still is.

I'm still not good in dealing with problems effectively. I try to be kind to others, to care for them when they need help - and I enjoy doing that. I enjoy listening to them, giving them a hand, giving them advice (even though I am certain that my advice holds no merit) - I enjoy laughing with them over the little things that occur in our everyday lives, I enjoy smiling and teasing them about familiarity - unfamiliarity - everything in between. They are good people, so I try my best to be good to them.

I came to New Zealand to make friends, not enemies.

I work hard to make up for lost time, to enjoy the things I never had a chance to enjoy.

I came here for a purpose. I came here to achieve. I came here to make a difference. I didn't come here on a whim - I planned out everything since I was in high school, making sure I could persuade my parents to let me come here, making sure I had everything coordinated. I knew, I knew - that I had to escape the place where I had come from, and I won't call it home because I never saw it as one. I am, by no means, ungrateful - I am grateful for the opportunity I have been blessed, I am grateful that I am alive. I am grateful that I have no financial burdens, and I appreciate the fact that I do not face any greater trials than this.

The only thing is that the emotional bonds do not truly exist. I do not miss. I do not feel. I do not love, especially. And that itself is a burden, for I do not feel at home at the place where I have come from but the place where I am at is not truly a place I have been for too long either. I call the place I am currently at "home" because I want to, because I feel that I need to - a desperation to belong somewhere, to hail from a place where I can feel appreciated. The tension that exists between the two is palpable, where I realize that the differences exist between me and others. I slip into a familiar accent back from Asia once in a while - something which I try not to do. In other words, I challenged myself to change every single aspect of myself in order to fit in. While the advice people give is to always be yourself, I was content with the idea of being a newer version of myself. It was still me, essentially - I am and always will be me - but I despised the parts of myself that I was not proud of, and wanted to build up an image where I could feel alive and be at ease with.

So when things feel like they've gone to hell and back, I ease myself up with a little bit of drinking. It wasn't a one-party thing, mind you - I had a companion who drank along with me, but who conveniently decided to fall asleep when I was dying to go out for a walk. It was dark and the rain was pouring - but I didn't care. I had to get out, I had to breathe - I felt like there was something choking me, and I had to let it out. My vision was blurry and everything seemed incredibly fascinating in the oddest ways possible - but I knew, I just knew that I had to allow a part of myself to come through. And so that was what I did in the darkness, where no one could see me in a puffer jacket. I walked. I walked with earphones on - walking away from town, and heading towards the emptier areas of the university at night. I walked past the Polytechnic, I walked past the field - I walked towards the stadium, I walked towards the car parks - I had no idea where I was headed to, of course. I had no destination, I had no aim. All I knew was that I had to keep walking - to keep running. Away from what, I had no idea. Thoughts swirled in my head but I was too drunk to actually identify them, so I shoved them away and reveled in my drunkenness. I hummed to the tune of Greenday and approached the bridge, the one that led to the sea. And for a moment, glancing at that deep swirling mass of black, I had the urge to just jump in to see how it was like. It was the death urge, and it took some effort (more like, the urge to find a bathroom because I had drunk a lot of alcohol) just to back the hell away from there and get back to the college.

People were worried.

They actually were.

I wasn't expecting for them to come out looking for me, but they had - especially after hearing that Anne had gone walking alone in the rain, half-ass drunk and clueless on what the hell was happening. They had looked displeased, they had looked worried - and at that moment, guilt welled within me. Just for an instance - and then it was gone. I was back to being aloof and indifferent, telling them they had no reason to worry and that all I wanted was a good walk to clear my head.

I was a pathetic, selfish little shit and I knew it.

I could not bring myself to tell anyone anything and I don't think I ever can. It is difficult - you never know when people will judge, or how they will see you next. You don't know who are the people you can actually trust, for they are few you are familiar with - and for the people who you might actually trust, you fear that revealing some of your darkest secrets to them might actually scare the crap outta them. And honestly, that would be the last thing you wanted. You fear that they would not be able to handle the weight - just as you've witnessed before - and so you decide that you will deal with your own problems, fears and insecurities on your own. You decide that you will be strong to others and only be weak when it comes to yourself. That would be the ideal solution.

And that will be the solution that I shall strive towards.

Aaaaaand if I could stop procrastinating and start studying harder, that would be great! Law is interesting - but some parts of it are horribly tedious at times. English is terrible as I am bad at writing fancy stuff. Politics is wonderful, but I fear for the marks of my essay.

Ah, and the nights are long...

Meltdown

"If I could dive into the core of a reactor, then I would be forgiven And all my sins would be absolved..."
- Rin Kagamine

The night air was always a little too chilly for my comfort. 

I hadn't thought too much about how things were going on - I hadn't written about my thoughts for a long time, nor had I read anything that constituted a primary interest of what seemed to be an escapist move into an alternate dimension. It was forlorn, despairingly so, that shreds of old a being seemed to fade and disappear as time went on - just like how shreds of the rips on the jeans continued to expand, revealing pale skin that was underneath it. There was something shameful and undesirable about it, but at the same time it occurred so naturally throughout the halls of time that it would be futile and senseless to stop it. 

The world would carry on - actors and actresses would dominate the stages and there were words, words, and nothing more but words everywhere. Where there was a cliff, there was a sea - where there was a cavern, there was darkness. Humans went there and humans made mistakes and humans fell to their deaths - but where mistakes occurred and where deathly shadows appeared no one seemed to understand, nor did they realize the existence of evil clawing through what they perceived to be a normal life. 

Screaming through the night, laughing at two in the morning with nothing but a senseless drive and a streak of passion - would that be a normal life of an individual, or would that be the life of a normal individual? What society constructed was nothing more than what was perceived - in truth, everything was nothing but a relative piece of art. There were things to be defined and things to be understood - but in the mad heap of twisted metal there was nothing to be found, nothing to be comprehended. What was left was mankind's inability to trust and accept - and with that, a heavy price was paid for generations and generations of passivity. 

It was said that passivity could be more dangerous than the actual act of harming - for passivity was silent, and silence was mankind's greatest weakness. Strength, where present, had to be utilized to its fullest capabilities in order to steer themselves to the direction they wanted - conquer the greatest oceans, conquer the skies and conquer their very hearts where what they feared the most laid. 

What would be the very best course of action to take, then? In the face of pure fear, it would be almost impossible to act upon rationality or anything that would remotely resemble rationality. The world that individual knew would seem infinitely far away - and from here a new individual wold emerge, one that acted on fear and pure, unadulterated adrenaline alone. From that time onward, there would only be two decisions - to fight or to run. Fight or run. Run or fight. Run and fight - fight and run. Would choosing both be a course of idiocy, or would it be comprehensible to the logical being - only one who was placed in that exact situation would understand and react in a way to what he felt was logical. Everything was relative, after all. Under close scrutiny, there would be nothing that was right in this world - where feelings reigned and corruption thwarted justice, there was nothing that could even feel remotely right. At that precise moment there would be nothing but mind and matter in motion, where binary forms intertwined and imposed its falsity upon the people who placed their trust on something higher. 

In the end, would there even be a choice?

Raindrops and flowers

The only thing that's constant is change. You get wrapped up in so many uncertainties - there's the urge to fling yourself out of the window, diving into the clouds and rainbows below - and yet you know, too, that you could land on something that may kill you. You fear the change since you're so unsure of the future, but at the same time you can't help but eagerly anticipate the things that are to come. It happens - your original goals sway a little, you lose sight of what's important for a second - you get confused on what's right and what's wrong. There are, however, no judgements from others - they can't pass any, not unless you tell them and allow them to judge you. 

It's all just a part of living - I say that to myself, mates, and others around me. They look up to me and listen - Anne, you are the voice of reason. You're so in control of your life that it hurts. There's nothing wrong about you, you're doing well in life - with a goal, a vision, a dream and everything you could possibly have. What more could you want? Are you possibly so fickle that you cannot even be satisfied with life's blessings? Why do you not appreciate the little things that happen everyday - why do you not love like you should, why do you not care? Anne, you are so fucking fickle. Get a grip! 

There are responsibilities, and Anne, you are responsible. You are responsible for every damn thing you do in life. People do not pity you for they know how headstrong you are in things, they know just how you are when you make decisions - rushed, irrational. There is not much to be pitied there - Anne, you are fickle. After wondering about this for so many years, you can reach your happy conclusion. You are as fickle as the many shallow-minded people out there and someday, the mighty you will fall. Perhaps it is best that you mentally prepare yourself for the day when your tiara goes out of place. You might've been a queen to them, but you're nothing without your pride. If it will be ripped to shreds, then that's how it is. There is nothing that can be done - nothing that can be salvaged. You took the gamble - now you fucking live with it. 

That is all - plain and simple. 

 

...

Thailand's coming up next week! The past few months have been hectic as hell. I envy those who have been lazing around, having nothing to do. For me, it's always going 'round here, there, everywhere...not that I mind, though. I'm the traveler - gotta love traveling, especially when it's paid for. Going to Singapore was great - more of a business trip, actually, but it was through that that I got to meet Kenji, an old mate of mine that I've known for quite some time. We had snacks, walked around Orchard Road, and just sat on a bench listening to cool tunes while we ranted to each other about our lives. I had expected it to be awkward, but it wasn't in the end. What would you know - we ended up bonding pretty quickly. It was nice to see him - got as many hugs as I could.

No positive responses from what I've applied to? Oh, well, at least I tried. I'll try and try and try until I die. Sure, it gets disheartening, but whatever. I'll do that shitty hairflip and just try again next time. 

I really should do a to-do list. Like, make an actual fucking budget, instead of some lame-o one that doesn't make sense. Must get parents to pay my fees soon. Must drive around more often. What else, what else...gotta send those new clothes for washing...gotta write more shit...update stories...keep applying for more of those writing jobs because that's probably the only thing I can do...pack for Thailand...hmm, I don't know. There sure are lots of things to do. Entertain boyfriend? I don't have the time. See, Anne, you're nuts.

How the hell can people be bored at home? It makes no fucking sense.

The future is now.

"It is my feeling that Time ripens all things; with Time all things are revealed;
Time is the father of truth."  
 

- Francois Rabelais

 There should always be a time for self-reflection - it helps complete the human in you, allowing you to sit back for a moment, taking in everything that has happened. It gives you a chance for improvements - and there is always room for improvements. 

Contrary to what others may think, I don't self-reflect often. Since I'm better in expressing myself through words, it's rare for anyone to see me utter something profound and intense in real life. In real life, I'm the girl who sits about with a book - the girl who gets a little moody, but is still a nice person nonetheless. I don't bother correcting anyone who thinks I'm kind and awfully friendly nowadays - they automatically know how to distance themselves whenever they sense  something's not right. Smart people, them.

 Nevertheless, I must admit that 2012 has been one of the best years for me - and there can only be one reason for that.

New Zealand.

As cheesy as this could possibly sound, I still remember the first few days of me in Dunedin. It had been hilarious, really - being lost in a little town, stuttering in front of the bus driver, wandering around like the helpless student I was. Then there were some differences in the lifestyle, and of course the weather wasn't particularly pleasant.

And yet I loved every single moment of it.

Okay, being lost in some fucking nowhere and chasing the bus down the hill weren't fun when it had happened - but they were still my experiences, and I wouldn't trade them for anything else in the world. After wanting to be in New Zealand all these years, I finally had my wish.

I had solemnly swore to myself that I would never abandon myself in a new land like this - that I would appreciate everything my parents had done to get me here, that I would try my best and adhere to my principles.

So I did.

There wasn't much to it, really. I was just so happy to be there. I loved all the subjects I did. I enjoyed the company of my classmates, as different as some of them were from me. I particularly appreciated the fact that no one scorned me or my dreams. They respected me for who I was. I reveled in the friendships I forged, took advantage of every opportunity I had. I wanted to work hard - I wanted to show the world what I could do - I wanted to show the people in Malaysia what I could bloody achieve.

Perhaps it was my own determination that pulled me through. I obtained scores that I never had in my entire life. It was surprising, but I was pleased. I convinced myself that no one could bring me down, that I was my very own master. I had enough time for everything. I never felt too pressured - well, at least, never pressured to the point where I couldn't handle it. It was there where I allowed some of my personality to shine through - the annoying girl who slept in class yet always reviewed the chapters in a day, the girl who swore like a motherfucker yet always started her assignments as soon as they were given out.

I enjoyed being a paradox.

I enjoyed being the irony of everything.

The world would continue to run its own course even if you died for it.

That was the main reason that convinced me to go on years ago. 

I never thought about death anymore - and nowadays, I try my best to talk anyone out of it. Sometimes I wondered - was I the girl who had sobbed too much until her heart could never truly be happy again, or was I the person who wanted to help others in order to atone for all the things I had done? I didn't have a reasoning, and up until now I still don't - but I knew that I couldn't back away any longer. I had to keep on moving forward, no matter the cost. Dreams, determination - they were all in my hands. What I did and what I achieved would all depend on me - myself - the very being within me.

There's been some decisions to make recently. Many would know that I've never had too good a relationship with my family - but it was just not too long ago that I realized once again how fragile things were. It didn't take too much for a cable to snap or a piece of glass to shatter. One had to be so very careful until it almost seemed ridiculous to do so. I had always been one to keep promises, and yet this time I found myself looking back at some I couldn't keep anymore.

When I was fourteen, all I wanted to do was to ruin myself. I wanted to jump into the dark abyss and lay in nothingness forever, seeing nothing but the stars.

But then as I grew, I realized that there were no fucking stars in there.

The darkness was very fucking real, and the darkness would never come close to being as beautiful as light. 

When I was sixteen, I made a promise to someone important.

Tomorrow, I will have to break it.

I knew what was at stake. I knew our relationship would definitely be put to the test. It was something dangerous, something that I would regret losing. I had always rooted for him, I had always supported his ideals - and yet at the time when he needed me most, I would have to abandon him. And it would be all because I wanted to save my own skin - all because I wanted to do what was right. It was simple - I refused to ruin myself for anyone's sake. 

It would also not hurt to add that there were many other parallel issues, and this was merely one of them.

 

"I'm a nice person. I don't like hurting others."

"Are you kidding me?" she asked incredulously. "After all the people you've hurt in the past?"

"...Are you saying I'm not nice?"

She sighed. "I'm just saying that sometimes hurting people is inevitable."

...

 Today was one of those days where I just wanted to throw my hands up and scream. Instead, I took a drive on my own - my dad had very nicely given me the keys, allowing me to have all the fun I wanted. And that was precisely what I did. I leaned back against the seat and drove comfortably along the highways, blasting music out of the speakers and humming tunelessly along. It had felt wonderful, and I found myself liking it more and more. It gave me the space I wanted - and it felt vastly different from being on the laptop, or writing stories in the comfort of a cafe. Driving allowed me to be out and about, enjoying the freedom and relaxing at the same time.

...Well, I had nearly crashed into godknowswhat, but that wasn't important. I have a P, bitches, I'm qualified!

...

Well.

Sometimes I liked being myself, and sometimes I hated it. That was 2012, and that would also be 2013. 

Perhaps that wasn't so bad. It only proved how human I was.  

 
"Don't wait for luck.
Dedicate yourself and you can find yourself."

- The Script, "Hall of Fame"

The Queen and her Knight

"Fly me up on a silver wing
Past the black where the sirens sing
Warm me up in a nova's glow
And drop me down to the dream below"

Linkin Park - Castle of Glass

...

I'm going to tell you guys a story. It took me some time to draft it up, and the drawings took even longer. The story is cliched, stupid, and boring - but...but...oh, whatever. Ignore the art and layering fail. 

...

Enjoy the metaphors (or whatever the hell they are).

...

Once upon a time, there existed a Queen. She lived in a lonely castle, waiting day after day for the King of her dreams to appear. Princes from other countries tried their best to approach her, but the stubborn Queen was not drawn to any of them. She found them boring - none of them piqued her interest long enough to be even considered a companion.

One day, the Queen met a ruffian - a ruffian who was by no means anything special. He was sarcastic, rude, and caused a great deal of trouble in the country. The Queen’s countrymen hated this ruffian – they claimed that he was callous and too outspoken with his ideas.

The Queen didn’t care much about a mere man, of course - but on one occasion, she ended up speaking to the ruffian. They didn’t get along well - both viewed each other as enemies to verbally assault. The Queen, in an out-of-character moment, taunted him with childish insults - to which he responded with vigor, ignoring the fact that she was the country's ruler.

Until one day, the unexpected happened. The ruffian happened to witness the Queen at one of her weakest moments. He never knew that there was this side to the brash, annoying, proud lady.

Things changed drastically after that. They began talking to each other – the first few conversations were slow, hesitant - but quickly evolved to casual chats that carried on day after day. Sometimes they asked about each others lives, sometimes it was just discussions about their goals and dreams. The Queen laughed a whole lot more, not feeling too lonely in her castle anymore. She had him to look forward to seeing all the time, and they gradually became close.

One day, the ruffian called her his “Queen”. 

The Queen was startled, of course. To call her by her title was proof that he had acknowledged her as his ruler, as the one who lead the country. It was proof of his loyalty - loyalty that he never showed to anyone else before. 

As such, the Queen did something she had never done in her life – which was to assign a Knight for herself. 

From that day onward, the ruffian was her Knight, and she was his Queen. It was a startling development, one that surprised everyone around them. They paid no heed to the looks and gossips around them, knowing that they had each other to believe in. 

The Queen and her Knight were always together. She would provide him encouragement whenever he felt like he was next to nothing, assuring him that he was worthy – while he would stand by her side and protect her from the demons within her lonely castle.

 

 

It was then when the Queen realized she was beginning to fall for her Knight. It was something not to be thought of, something that shouldn’t ever be brought up. The Knight existed only to protect the Queen, and the Queen existed to rule. Perhaps the Knight had felt something for his Queen too, but it was hard to tell. He gave enigmatic answers - answers that even the Queen could not understand. She was afraid to push the boundaries, and decided that issues of the heart could be dealt with later.

Times were getting harder. The enemies were upon the castle, threatening to invade and overrule the country. The Knight and her Queen had burdening duties to carry out. While the Knight tried his best, sometimes the Queen herself had to join in the battle. Try as they might, both were worn down by extreme battle conditions - the Queen and her Knight were trapped in an imposing world, where nothing much was left.

“You don’t have to fight the enemies,” he once told her exasperatedly. “All you have to do is sit and look pretty.” 

The Queen was having none of that bullshit. “Well, I can’t just let you fight out there without being by your side!"

“Then…then go and manage the village or something,” he said, clearly frustrated. “Just don’t get any blood on your hands.”

The war eventually did end. The Queen and her Knight were tired, of course, but they managed to share moments of peace, quiet and happiness once more. They talked about the war, the future, and what the world was about. 

He liked the way she asserted her opinions, and the Queen was incredibly proud, then, to have chosen him as her Knight. In turn, she admired the way her Knight stood up for what was right. 

The Queen missed her Knight horribly whenever he wasn’t around. She wanted to know more about him, wanted more from him. Thoughts about him haunted her throughout the days, and she yearned to have him by her side all the time. 

Things, however, weren’t going to stay peaceful for long. 

The pressure was on the Queen once again to choose a partner for herself in order to secure the stability of the kingdom. She despised it, but her Knight urged her to be patient.

That was when she couldn’t take it anymore. She let months of feelings out, confessing to him what she thought of him to be, and what she hoped him to be. The Queen wanted them to always be together – not as Knight and Queen, but as King and Queen. 

She looked at her Knight, expecting happy smiles and acceptance.

But things just weren't meant to be.

He couldn’t, he said. He just couldn’t. He was merely a Knight – not someone worthy to be King. He mentioned that there were many others far more worthy to be King – and that she deserved someone better.

But the Queen knew better. There was another reason for his rejection. 

“Why?” Her question rang hollowly, the accusation in her tone apparent. “Are you afraid that I will fail you?” 

It went both ways, the Knight told her calmly. He was worried that she would fail him, and she would worry that he'd fail her. 

The Queen told him, indignantly, that he would never fail her, and that she would try her best regardless of how difficult the relationship would be - but her Knight had his mind made. It just wasn’t meant to be. He was sorry, he said, but he just couldn’t do it.

The Queen couldn’t believe that this was happening. She was devastated. What else was there to be done now? At this rate, she didn’t even want to face anyone. She refused to. She wanted to go away, disappear from the world, hide from reality. Her pride was in tatters, shredded to bits and pieces of nothingness. 

“I’m sorry.” His tone was gentle. “Will you be alright?”

She wanted to laugh maniacally, to go on a violent massacre on any other kingdom that had once done her wrong. She wanted to scream – she wanted to cry – and cry she did, on the night after that – though no one would ever know. Instead, she forced a grin on her face. “Well, I can't make you stay here anymore. Work hard,” she said. “Whatever you do in the future, work hard, shine, and achieve. I’ll always be cheering for you.” 

There. That was his cue to leave. "Thank you," he replied.

With that, the Queen watched as her Knight - the one who was supposed to always protect her, walked out of her life forever.

...

"Now in my remains
Are promises that never came
Set the silence free
To wash away the worst of me"

Linkin Park - In My Remains 

...

"Have you ever thought about it?"

"Of course I have. Do you see me as a fool? I've considered everything."

"Then you should know that if we ever had a relationship, it would be a time bomb." 

...

...

You're right.

...

You're right.