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Because I've neglected this journal for far too long, and I would like to practice writing -- that is, writing anything at all, because I've been abnormally tightlipped lately -- so Yen and I are going to do these 30 day memes!

I'm probably going to modify some of the questions because clearly this isn't a tumblr and I don't have time to tumblr around with tumblr questions.

meme questions )

Here is the first question.

day 1 – your current relationship, if single discuss how single life is.

answers here. )
spiderpig: (Default)
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Being more selfish/self-centered/let's forget the 'we' and focus on the 'I' was one of my resolutions for the new year. I've always been concerned for the other party, always worried what others would say or react to things, should I be the most amiable person to reduce conflict, and the list of belittling the self goes on. Doctors would probably say that I have a pathological lack of self-confidence. But that's not true, I just have a general lack of confidence in all things. I find it hard to put my trust in someone, or to wholeheartedly devote time, space and energy to something. It's a world of apathy in my head and to just cross the borders takes too much out of me.

So back to the question. Yes. I don't see the point in 'friendships'.

Now don't get me wrong here. It's not that I don't treasure friends, or don't think that any of my friends as friends. That's far from it. It's just that I don't think that one's life should revolve around a friend, or friends. It is my life and my life alone and I don't want to be controlled by external forces; when things go wrong, I want to blame it on myself, not on so-and-so and who-and-who. Which is why some people don't understand if I can feel nothing when someone stops talking to me, or if I stop talking to someone. It's not "not feeling anything", it's more of "I don't feel the 'proper' amount of emotion that you expect me to feel'.

When people threaten my stability, emotion or otherwise, I just cut them off. Why should I feel terrible because of someone else? Why should I make someone else feel bad if I feel bad because of them? So I don't regret these things. If it endangers my self-esteem, and my faith in the world, then I'm better of without it.
spiderpig: (Default)
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Alright. I'm not a big fan of Valentines' Day, what with the tradition of giving out chocolates to every other girl in the school back when I was still in school (it was Stressful and Expensive); but Single Pride Day is even more ridiculous. No, I'm not saying that we shouldn't be proud to be single and independent and i-bought-that-car-with-my-money but think about it. Is there a need to make such a big deal about it? I don't think so.


Jul. 26th, 2009 02:18 pm
spiderpig: (STALKER GEEK // ariake koichi)

I'm writing for RIUVA too!
spiderpig: (do-s ::xanusxsqualo)
Posted as a note on my Facebook account. Archived here.

Why I Write )
spiderpig: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]Well. I was a movie and TV geek when I was a kid (moving lights and loud sounds got to me, as it does for most other kids) and I think I lived my life in a small 20-inch screen. I wailed when the TV in my room (used for watching Darkwing Duck ORZ) was taken away and I did nearly everything with the TV. Eat. Nap. Do my homework. Play. Throw tantrums.

So imagine my utmost delight - and slight fear, because the screens were so much more bigger than anything I had ever seen - when my aunt took me to the cinema.

I've had many favourites, I still do. But I think for me now and for me then, my favourite movie as a child was Beauty and the Beast. I'm not sure if I watched that first, or Aladdin but it's always been B&B that stuck.

I liked the fact that teapots, candlebras, clocks, everything imaginable could talk, move and sing. It was like watching my bed come to life (which would have been awesome as a kid, but disturbing right now) and burst into song and dance.

And, Belle liked to read. I loved to read. Or rather, be read to, because I was a lazy brat and just liked hearing my mum recite things off the 365 Stories book I had. So it was comforting. I could go "Belle reads too!" whenever I was told that I read too much. Watching that movie justified my small existence. It soldered something in me that let me continue believing in the sheer whimsicality of existence for at least, the next 4 years or so, before all that efferverscent - and ignorant - lust of life oxidized into something that just sparkled every now and ten.


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A Tan

September 2011

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