Tezcatlipoca

In ref. to title: I really need that Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab perfume in that name. It's particularly symbolic since he is apparently the divine embodiment of change, through conflict. (read the next line in a booming voice) Just as I have emerged from the ashes that are but the charred remnants of the past semesters and its horrific events, I shall once again emerge from this semester triumphant.

Granted, I have a few things I have not straightened out. I am still wary of the male sex (though this has been something that's been built in me ever since young so). I have yet to be fully trusting. Have I forgiven my scumbag of an ex? Nope (no reason to, for someone as arrogant and un-remorseful as him tbh). Am I able to stop being paranoid about The Bae ™'s psycho ex? Nope (but that's for good reason). Am I finally over all the bullshit that's been happening in Sem 1? Well, more or less. I still disapprove of how those matters were dealt with, but I'm glad that it's over. Do I still let myself be trampled on in group projects? Hell nah. Am I more confrontational, open and less secretive? Yes. Have I stopped being a pathological liar? Yes. Have I learnt to value myself more and to take no bullshit? Yeap you bet I fucking did. I hit a new low on that day last year. That was my very lowest point. And I have resolved to never go through that ever again.

Going to Russia helped. Being away from everyone, being on my own for once, and having to spend some quality time with myself helped. Meeting people from all over the world, all with their own stories to tell, and seeing for myself how they lived, helped. I was also finally able to indulge in some solo travel - something I've been wanting to do for ages, and I loved it. I really want to do it again, someday. Maybe to Iceland or Patagonia (though the former's probably much safer).

I learned that I'm not as antisocial or as hermit-like as I'd like to think myself to be, and that I do enjoy the company of people. Albeit very selectively.

I can't remember the exact details about my previous post, and I'm too lazy to read it. I vaguely remember something about VISA and telling my ex to fuck off (as per usual. Though he has been doing that nowadays, thankfully. I'm getting less and less of his shitty emails). I should continue where I've left off.

It might be ironic that it is in a small and conservative city in Siberia/Russia that I've broadened my view of the world. But such has been the case. Also, to this day, I miss how cheap food and alcohol is there. And I do miss the friends I've made, a little. Once I was back in Singapore, I was immediately plunged back into university life, but surrounded, and welcomed back, by loved ones. My 21st passed rather uneventfully, probably because I was still exhausted, and because I have never been into big, grandiose celebrations anyway. Those things intimidate me. Give me good food, excellent company and I'm pretty much set. I had ribs with my favourite people, and I got amazing gifts (I'd recount that here but that feels really narcissistic).

This semester's been more stressful than the previous one because of literature and creative writing, but I'm more or less managing.

My procrastination's getting pretty bad though.

Presently, I'm writing a sci-fi play about what happens when our galaxy inevitably collides with the Andromeda galaxy. It's pretty difficult though, but I am considering using that for creative writing. Assuming I can straighten the whole thing out.

Green Swizzle Wooster + Also a letter to an abhorrent ex

I have finally gotten to reading Wodehouse's beloved series, Jeeves & Wooster, and it is an absolute hoot! I wish I had started on it earlier. I need my very own Jeeves to efficiently and very effortlessly handle all the bullshit that's currently going on.

European bureaucracies are the absolute worst. It has been absolutely hellish trying to apply for my Russian VISA. I was first told that I needed a document to prove that I didn't have AIDS -an idea that sounded to me absolutely preposterous- because that was one of the documents required for my VISA application, only to find out (on the Russian Consulate's website itself) that that was not required. And when I called the Russian Embassy/consulate, I got transferred back and forth because apparently no one knew what exactly the Russian VISA requirements were. Absolutely ridiculous. I almost booked myself an appointment for a HIV test today and it was a good thing I triple-checked and decided to do more research. My internet browsing history looks so shady now cuz I've been googling AIDS tests. Fuck this bullshit.

I eventually found out, after surfing several websites, that a HIV test document was only needed if I was going to be in Russia for longer than 90 days, SO I DON'T ACTUALLY NEED IT. Even though the people at the Visa Application centre said I did. In any case, I've been in contact with the Russian university so what I need to do is to basically head down to the Russian Consulate and get it settled there. I shall be doing that ASAP. I want to get this over and done with and focus on things that I should be ACTUALLY worried about, for instance, my proficiency in Russian. As opposed to arbitrary bureaucratic barriers with tedious application processes, run by clueless, unfriendly and unhelpful people.


Anyhoo, that's about it for now on the Russian thing. Am still trying to comprehend Russian grammar, but there's no need for a ramble on that. On to another thing that I'd really like to get settled once and for all.

This shall be the very last post I will make concerning this issue. While the subject in question may say, in his far too frequent emails, that he will not read this blog, I know for a fact that he will, given that that's the only window through which he could have any idea of what's going on in my life (since I've blocked him off everything). And whatever he chooses for himself to believe, and however he chooses to wildly misinterpret whatever I write, is none of my beeswax because I really don't give a fuck at this point.

Once again, I don't know how to make this any clearer. I have no desire in the slightest to ever see your ugly face, deal with your manipulative and toxic personality, or be a part of your messed-up life. You can make as many romantic proclamations as you wish. You may ramble as much as you want about girls you check out, wish to bed, flirt with, and whatever horrible things you've done or wanted to do while you were dating me, and after you were dating me. I really, TRULY, can't be fucked. If anything, knowing all of this just increases my certainty that you were and still are, a horrible person. I wish all the other girls (you claim) to be attracted to you the best of luck if they ever have to deal with you. The only thing that makes me sad is the fact that I wasted three years of my life that I could've spent being more confident and un-oppressed, having less/no fights and being more confident of myself. Oh well I guess we all live and learn.

I honestly don't care about how much your family, friends and our schoolmates hate me. I don't know what you've told them, and I don't want to know. If they have chosen to dislike/look down on me even though they've only heard your side of the story, they are free to do so. I don't care for the opinions of people like that. If your family hates me because our breakup exposed the monster/wreck you've always been, they have every right to do so. To some extent, getting disliked by people isn't exactly a novel occurrence for me, and this is something I can easily take in stride. Though if you reaaally want some objective feedback about this whole thing from your friends? Show them all your long and disgusting emails. Make it a point to remind them that you're sending this to someone who has moved on and is in a romantic relationship with someone else. See what they have to say about how disgusting you've been/are being.

With regards to the nature of my romantic relationship, if you wish to convince yourself that we are some hormone-fuelled, toxically codependent polyamorous couple; if you want to think he's a -and I quote- "typical Singaporean NS man" that is "full of bullshit" and etc. because all that makes you feel better about your pathetic self, then think as you wish. The people I actually care about, and myself, know better. To deludedly assume that I do not wish to see you merely because I'm in a relationship is really oversimplifying the matter. I do not wish to see you for several reasons, and I shall list them out for the very last time here, unranked.

1) You are mentally unstable and extremely incoherent. And no, meeting me will not fix that. Your very notion of expecting me to fix that is highly problematic and speaks for itself about your mental stability.

2) I am not going to meet someone who has romantic intentions towards me, and thinks he "owes [me] a good fuck", because I have no romantic interest whatsoever in said person. In fact I don't have any interest at all and would prefer it if said person dropped dead.

3) Related to #2: I am seeing someone, and I love that person a lot. He is sweet, kind and honest. He is smart, but not an arrogant and obnoxious ass about it. He is friendly and considerate, but he also respects my feelings, gives me space when I need it. Above all, we are both self-reliant. It's not that toxic kind of codependency that we had, which was horrid and I shudder to recall it. He is also a man both my family (father included) and friends approve of. Whether we last till the day we find ourselves at the altar or not, is honestly none of your business. I am content with what I have with him at the moment. And even if (touch wood) we don't last, I can say that I am glad all of that happened. Because I am happy and content in a way that I have never quite known before. I can't say the same for our relationship lmao. In any case, I do not wish to see you because I am committed to someone else. And I don't have room for a toxic, narcissistic turdface with his head up his ass (that's why it's turdface). Metaphorically speaking, my life is this really big freshly-baked pie and all the things and people I love are the fragrant and succulent filling, spiced and bursting with flavour and everyone who sees and smells it smiles (wow the sibilance in this) and is happy, and the accomplishments I'm slowly but surely making are the pastry bits that are baking and gradually turning that perfect shade of golden brown. You are the shitstain that no one wants in or on the pie. I'm sure some other unfortunate girl out there would love to have that in her pie, so stick it elsewhere. Like the girls you were gonna cheat on me with, or that German girl.

Lastly, I'd like to say a big fuck you for discrediting every effort I've made. I wrote my own essays, I completed my own A Level papers. I scheduled my own damn consultations. I wrote my own university essays, and I studied and sat for my own exams. I passed my Philosophy interview through my effort, and I wrote that email by myself, of my own volition. I am the reason I am where I'm at now, not you. Did you know that plagiarizing can get you expelled, or is your head too far up your ass for you to acknowledge that everything I've done, every failure and success I've had does not revolve around you? You've got a lot of nerve claiming credit for getting me into university, giving me confidence and etc. I was depressed after my O Levels because I didn't score as well as I wanted and I had no solid idea about what I wanted to do in life. I didn't really want to go JC but I was forced there. I didn't do well as a science student at all. All these factor into why I had very very low self-esteem. You did not make me feel more confident. You made it worse. And though I had the occasional bursts of motivation and belief in myself because I did SOME things right and accomplished some things occasionally, I wasn't confident in the slightest, I wasn't convinced that I wasn't a worthless human being until I entered university. You were rude. You insulted and pissed off all my friends. But they hate you not only because of that, but also because they saw how toxic you were and how you weren't suited for me at all. You were the reason I even fought with my dad in the first place. So quit trying to elevate yourself. Quit being all sanctimonious about your behaviour and actions.

 I have no desire to see you and I never will, for a myriad of valid reasons that concern not only your state of mental health, but mine as well, and the fact that I wish move on from this. Without you in the picture. Like out of not only the pie, not just out of the oven but also out of the kitchen. Maybe house or country. You're free to spam me with more pathetic emails but I assure you I won't read them.

You need to get over your ego and move on. Because I've moved on, and I am happy where I am presently (I know you haaaaate to hear that). Not only with my boyfriend, but with my friends, my family and my grades.

Fuck Off  Bye.
Cupcake Militant

Россия, Terror, and Needing to Calm the Fuck Down

Hey everyone,
Sorry it's been a while since I've updated, I don't feel like I've had much of an excuse, given that it was the holidays, but I have been working part-time and have been physically exhausted, and, as usual, lots of things have been going on in my life.

Writing on my blog feels awkward now, I don't know if I'm all that comfortable with sharing very personal things out in the open. Maybe I'm just moving past my rebellious, teen-angst phase where I needed to express myself all the time. Maybe I'm just feeling less frustrated and repressed. Or maybe I'm just not very used to writing in a personal manner now. I really hope me taking creative writing will remedy that.

Anyway, I've really been going ham with my money ever since payday, I bought myself a Russian grammar book (it's tricky, but there are exercises and there's an answer key), a whole buncha cheap Taobao clothes (quantity>quality), a new petticoat, and the first payment for the pre-order of this BEAUTIFUL Taobao Lolita dress with a strawberry cake print:

 I really wanted to get myself some skincare products and makeup, maybe a new pair of shoes, but if I do that I won't be able to get The Bae™his birthday present, a treat at Carnivore, which is happening around mid-July. And I prioritize that over my materialistic wants. :3 All that can wait till I get my second round of pay. Unless I'm shameless enough to ask my relatives to buy that for me as a birthday present. This is gonna sound evil but I feel like since this is my 21st birthday, I might hold some kinda special authority over what happens. I wonder if my friends/significant other are planning anything (I really hope The Bae™remembers the hot tub idea).

I haven't been able to feel calm and relaxed at all this holiday, not with my tiring part-time job, suddenly getting the Russian summer school scholarship, and my (still gross) ex being back. I feel like I should proceed writing about this in a systematic manner.

Starting with my exhausting part-time job. It's mentally understimulating, like reallyyy mentally-understimulating. After working a menial cashiering job, it really clues you in on why Squidward is the way he is. I've been surprisingly more social this time round, probably thanks to Fairy, who was working with me. I made friends with several people, and I'm fairly proud of myself for that. I got asked a bunch of weird questions by one of my male coworkers (like if The Bae™ treated me right...at first I thought he thought I was being abused), who's alright but not exactly the brightest bulb in the box (or, as The K would say, is "two hotdogs short of a whole picnic"), and everyone around me is convinced that he's into me. Meh. I had some agreement to go Kinokuniya with him and he's been pestering me about it daily. Kinda annoying me tbh. The Bae™'s kinda insistent that I flake out, but I feel really guilty and am considering bringing Fairy along to cockblock, because COME ON, that'll be hilarious HAHAHA. Like she'll be SO OBVIOUS ABOUT IT it'll be funny. And every time he says something dumb (like how he thought Abraham Lincoln the Vampire Slayer was historically accurate and that vampires actually terrorized the US), I can hide it and keep my facial expression neutral, but AHAHAHA SHE WON'T BE ABLE TO. THE LOOK ON HER FACE. AHAHAHAHA. But yeah, I've had a slightly crappier experience working this time round, because of the sudden influx of shitty customers. It's disgusting. And I hate how the nature of the retail industry does nothing but perpetuate, and ultimately pander to the entitlement and stupidity of humanity's worst. It has also done nothing in lessening my hatred and disgust of children.
Also during the Nippon Fair I got a lot of sea urchin and crab sashimi because my japanese boss liked me :>

Anyhoo, shitty customers, more social and a lot of bread. That's a rough summary of my working experience.

On to the (main) source of my anxiety and stress: MY RUSSIAN SCHOLARSHIP
...me having to pay for the airfare really made it feel like less of a scholarship but anyway. I'm just so terrified, like I can't calm down at all. I am so obviously inferior it hurts. Literally everybody there's either working as Russian language teachers or translators, OR majoring in the Russian language itself in their university, OR has spoken Russian for several years. Several of them have already been to Russia several times. It doesn't help that we had to introduce ourselves in the Facebook group they made and EVERYONE just spammed literal walls of complicated Russian text that I read halfway, gave up on comprehending and google translated the damn thing. I don't feel like I belong here at all, with all these people who already have a very strong grasp of the language. And I don't feel like I can make any friends because they're all gonna look down on me for being not only younger than most of them, but also a beginner at the language. And that makes me so angry, because I KNOW that I COULD have just as strong a grasp (I have faith in my abilities), if I had the same opportunities as they did. BUT I NEVER DID. And it's STUPID that they're awarding this scholarship to all these people who can already speak and write Russian very fluently, and have had all this exposure, when the whole point of the scholarship is to introduce you to the Russian language and culture. THINKING ABOUT THAT JUST PISSES ME OFF.

And my parents are being so overprotective and stupid it hurts. Like my mom wanted to follow me to Russia. Why the literal fuck. I'm a grown-ass woman.

Know what would be the most hilarious dick move ever? If I picked up more Russian from all their long pretentious posts in Russian. LEL. Paired with my Russian textbook, the grammar book I just bought, and helpful texts from my Russian language teacher, I am confident I can accelerate my learning a little.

Also I'll be in Russia for 3 weeks, that cuts into my university semester and I'll be missing 1-2 weeks of school and that really worries me a lot. I WILL BE SO BEHIND. THERE'LL BE SO MUCH TO CATCH UP ON. ; - ; And I won't see The Bae™for 3 weeks. ; - ; They still haven't emailed me the official invitation letter, and I really need it so that I can tell my school I'll be out for a while.

Or maybe they'll never send me the fucking letter and I'll just go to school and not to Russia. :')

And on to still-gross ex. He's back in Singapore for the holidays - something that really does nothing to improve my mood - and he's been pestering me to meet up with him, sending me looong rambly emails that are really cringe-worthy, and aimed at garnering my sympathy. He probably realized long hate-filled emails don't work. Not that this does either. He also got a new number so I've been getting texts. Am making it a point to ignore him because no matter how many times I tell him to fuck off and that I don't want to see him, he's not listening. He's in his own little world, where I ignore him because I care for him and actually think I could give him a chance.

I don't know how to say this any more clearly.
I have no desire whatsoever to talk to him, let alone see him. At all. Some breakups end nicely, and both parties can be amiable to each other and be cordial friends. This isn't one of them. He is so obviously deluded, he is bitter and obsessed with the past. He cannot get over his feelings for me (this sounds so narcissistic I'm cringing at myself as I write this), and he is incoherent and irrational. He says let's be friends, but then makes vows about how he wants to get back together, how he still loves me, and takes me out on dates. I've done a lot of reflecting on the past three years of my life - and I really mean a LOT of reflecting. And I know enough to say what we had was actually really toxic. I sacrificed my relationship with my father. Something I never should have done, when his concerns were valid. And now I have been trying to repair that. I bickered with my best friend, and other friends who had concerns about who I was dating. We fought all the time. I was angry and crying a lot. Everything became even worse when...physical acts were involved. So much secrecy and deception and selfishness. HOW I HATED IT. I often felt undesired, used and ugly. Things that never should have happened, but did because I was dumb and hormonal. At that point in time I kinda just gave up on myself because of all the emotional stress I had, I felt so discouraged in my intellectual pursuits because I was dating a genius that was not only arrogant, but would also argue with me in a rude manner and shut me down. I was convinced I was stupid, or something.  I never told this to anybody but I honestly felt like I might've been depressed at that point in my life. Mermaid Daughter and Tall Lolita helped, and made my days in my junior college so much better. And I am so thankful for that. Of course we had our nice moments. I wouldn't have stayed in a relationship with someone for 3 years if there were none. But honestly, the bad outweighed the good. And I am cool with that. I don't regret everything because although it was painful, there was so much I learned. I just want to move on with my life, because I'm very happy right now. And he should too.

And if he turns up at my house or my grandma's. Restraining order.

Right now I'm in a relationship where I'm happy, secure (more or less...y'all know how much I doubt myself) and content. And I feel loved not just by The Bae™(insert heart emojis) but by my friends, and (to a certain extent) my family. I can say this with utmost confidence as I am sipping the ginger tea that Fairy gave me, and eating a chocolate-filled cookie from La Cure Gourmand, and thinking of the adorable note The Bae™ wrote me. I can say that because I'm looking forward to spending time with MD and TL tomorrow, we'll craft and chat and maybe bike if there're no thunderstorms (though I do love thunderstorms they're so majestic). I can say this because there's a chronologically-arranged anthology of H. P. Lovecraft's works sitting on my bedside table, lent to me by Fyodr. For once in my life I feel like I have grown as a person, I feel more confident, and I feel satisfied, validated and content - things I almost never feel. I am so loved, and I am so thankful. And thinking about all of this now is just making me cry because. I am just. So grateful.




P.S. Fairy is texting me rn and telling me I look cute when I cry. I wish. Why's she being so nice. Some people pretty-cry and it's just reddened cheeks and sparkly tears. I ugly-cry. My eyes get all red and snot comes out of my nose and my chest hurts.

Another Holy Fuck

I got the scholarship to study Russian in Russia.
Hot damn.

Holy Fuck

Holy fuck.
Holy fuck.

I finished my final semester of my first year of uni with a first-class honours.

Holy fuck.

I ought to realize (finally) that I need to stop doubting myself, and that I'm not an idiot.

Brb crying tears of joy.

.

I'm such a failure I swear to god.

Astronomy, dates and mothafucking brie cheese

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Some Time Off

I am almost at the end of my second semester in university, and I thought I should write about everything I'm feeling, and maybe vent a little. I really do miss blogging. I don't recall ever being this reluctant opening up emotionally online, I used to blog really regularly and bitch about anything and everything. Perhaps I've just gotten old and weary, and a little too jaded from constant frustration and disappointments. I wish I had more positive, feel-good posts in this blog, but whenever I'm in a good mood I'm never really in the mood for personal writing, I'm usually just happily lip-syncing random songs or watching funny videos on Youtube, or crafting - basically doing all the things I like. I should get to writing more happy posts though, I think that'd help me appreciate all the good things that I have a little more.

Honestly, this semester has been so much better than the previous one. Now that I've adjusted to my environment, learned to better manage my time and organize myself a little better, and mine and Z's gross and toxic ex is more or less out of the picture. I think that last one was what made me, TRULY, a lot more emotionally stable and less upset all the time. Every now and again my hackles rise whenever I get yet another email and/or parcel from my gross ex, and when I lurk on Z's ex's facebook and she's throwing shade at Z, or whining about missing Z. I just get very, very paranoid that she's gonna attempt harrassing Z again (and that nightmare of last semester's gonna be repeated), or do more shit that's gonna affect him and his friends and Z doesn't really do a good job of assuring me. At this point I can't be fucked I just want her to get over it and find someone else to parasitically cling to so that I can be at rest. Seriously. On the up side, I'm not too worried about having to confront my gross ex at some point, if it ever comes to that, I know I'm unshakable the minute I decide that I'm fucking done with a person. I've decided to stop giving a fuck about that. Also Gmail FINALLY, FINALLY allows you to block people so I've done that (a huge thank you to Warhole, a fabulous friend of mine who informed me of that).

Z and I have gotten a lot closer, and we are a lot happier. I mean, I won't say that it's perfectly smooth-sailing, we do have some problems, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to feel a 100% secure and trust him completely, because of how reserved he is and how he tends to hide from or avoid certain things. I can't help but feel that at the same time it's also partly because of my character, I NEED everything to be very straightforward and honest, and very openly discussed whenever shit happens, or whenever one of us (be it romantic partner or friend) is mad or upset at the other. I NEED confrontations and I need answers and reassurance, and I NEED resolution. I mean, it's part of the reason why Fairy is my best friend, she's really blunt about what she thinks and I really appreciate that. I don't do very well with half-baked, non-commital answers - "maybe", "perhaps", "I'll see", "well probably", "most likely"/"most likely not". To me, it's either yes or no. Do you want to or do you not want to. Are you going to do X, or are you not going to do X. If you don't want Y to happen, are you going to do everything in your power to prevent Y from happening or not. I don't like awkward and abrupt switching of topics when I'm having an important conversation with people, I don't like casual dismissals when I express my emotions about things. I guess it's things like this that make me a really abrasive person. For the majority of people, some veil of ambiguity and sense of restraint is necessary, and people hide behind it, even for close relationships. To quote from Norman Holland, "The exigencies of social intercourse oblige men and women to dress up their real thoughts and feelings in polite trifling and elegant gesture, to hide the true expression on their faces behind a delicately wrought fan". And as much as it infuriates me, I've long been made aware of it and have grown both wary and weary.

In any case, this is the happiest I've been in a romantic relationship for a long time and I am thankful for that. I'd now like to move on to talk about another thing that has been helping me cope with whatever feelings of insecurity, inadequacy, frustration, hurt and etc that I have been experiencing:

DRAG QUEENS.

Sass Queen Bianca Del Rio

Katya Zamolodchikova

Adore Delano

Cheers to their Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve and Talent, and for inspiring me to not give a fuck about what others think, to be strong and to care more about applying myself and growing a pair, rather than quietly take shit and secretly feel sad, or whine about it to people. Why SHOULD I care about how much others value me? Or what the people in my cohort think of me? Fuck it I'm gonna turn up dressed looking like Sarah Anderson's main character in her comics to lecture one day and no one shall fucking stop me. And if I walk into lecture in a black corset and above-knee stockings and boots, with a heart drawn below my eye I'll fucking do it, and if I have to sit alone for that then I fucking shall. So what if people judge me for wearing purple lipstick? And so what if Z fails to reassure me about his dumb and toxic ex who's never gonna get over herself at the rate she's going; And seems hesitant to introduce me to his family and friends? So what if I've lost contact with some of the people I've used to know and so what if people think I'm rude or crass? So what if my mother has never once, all semester, asked me "oh hey, how are you doing?" and has been mostly a biased, selfish and bad-tempered bitch most of my life?

WHY SHOULD ANYBODY'S VALIDATION MATTER TO ME?

I'm so tired of feeling hurt and sad and worried. I'm so tired of feeling inadequate and feeling insignificant to people that I care about. I'm just going to quit giving a fuck and be myself, and do whatever it is I want and the need to do. And I'm going to stop giving a fuck about people who clearly don't give two fucks about me, and I'll deal with negative experiences the same way these inspirational people have done it, be it with barb, cussing but getting it done anyway, or humour. And, naturally, bomb af makeup. And I'm going to start loving myself more. A whole lot more.

I should print this out somewhere and frame it. My TRUE road to independence (but NOT hermit-ness because I can't get any more antisocial and jaded, at the rate I'm going) begins now. 

Random Ideas

Sugar Mice
Whipped cream dollops
Brie
Swiss Cheese
Camembert
Berries
Rhinestones
Fancy clocks and gears
peppermint

So. Tired.

Pass is my fav poet

Yunomori Onsen x MD's Birthday

Password is my fav dog breed

Why I Hate Funerals

Since I can't sleep and am feeling very hormonal (because my period is near), and very emotional, I think it's about time I write something that I've been thinking a lot about, ever since the passing of my grandfather.

It seems embarrassingly ironic that, as someone who wrote and presented at length about the importance of respecting the culture and practices of others (as long as they do not impinge upon the individual rights of a person), that I would take a shit on funeral practices - a rather sombre ritual that I assume is important to a majority of cultures. Funerals are important for a variety of reasons: paying your respects to the deceased, meeting and consoling the grieved, a final farewell - in commemoration of the person and the deeds that he has done. Religious reasons. The list goes on. I do not deny that funerals are necessary because they serve all these important functions.

Yet I can't help but feel angry at the stupidity of ritual itself. At the end of the day, funerary rituals seem to serve no more than social and legal purposes. Nothing that anyone is doing is going to matter to, or affect, the deceased. What meaning is there in guarding the coffin for 24 hours for three consecutive days? And placing a pearl on a corpse's mouth? And wearing a specific colour and badge to denote your position in the family? Why does the arrangement of the flowers matter so much? Who would be in a stable enough emotional state to plan and arrange such a complicated event, immediately upon the death of someone beloved to them? Is that even fair? Maybe I'm just feeling angry for my father. And for everyone else who was emotionally distraught. I hated seeing all of them in pain. How dare he be tasked to write and present the eulogy. He has enough on his plate as it is. I worry for his emotional health. I felt mildly insulted at having a newspaper representative come over to my house. A jovial, squat old man with a large camera swinging around his neck. His jaunty manner of walking. Them deciding what frame and decorative inner border to place around the most flattering photo of my grandfather they could find. A photo of my grandfather would appear in the obituaries the following morning, to be seen by the masses of indifferent citizens. Why should my grieving grandmother and father and aunts be made to undergo this tedious and emotionally-exhausting process that holds such little meaning?

"Shouldn’t death, I thought, be a swan dive, graceful, white-winged and smooth, leaving the surface undisturbed?"

-Don DeLillo, White Noise

An answer to this would be eloquently expressed through yet another excerpt from one of my all-time favourite books, White Noise by Don DeLillo:

“To plot is to live. […] We start out lives in chaos, in babble. As we surge up into the world, we try to devise a shape, a plan. There is dignity in this. Your whole life is a plot, a scheme, a diagram. It is a failed scheme but that's not the point. To plot is to affirm life, to seek shape and control. Even after death, most particularly after death, the search continues. Burial rites are an attempt to complete the scheme, in ritual.” 

But such an answer is unsatisfactory to me. Probably because I could never fully wrap my head around the idea of adhering to ritual and order for the sake of emotional fulfilment. To feel secure and grounded. Or for dignity. I can't help but feel that all these rituals are unnecessary, and internal, genuine grieving is all that truly matters in paying your respects to a person, rather than lengthy and tedious rites and rituals. I must confess that I had little to no respect for the protagonist and his wife, who obsessively ruminated and feared death with every morsel of their being. Now THAT is what lacks dignity.

I got reprimanded for not looking like I grieved enough. But that's hardly fair. While I respected his figure and authority as my grandfather I barely ever spoke to him, so I was never emotionally close to him. To exaggerate my tears and deliberately look sadder and more drained than usual would be nothing but an insult to those who were actually emotionally close to him - like my father and my grandmother and my aunts. I don't care enough about what people think to deliberately look very sad. Another stupid thing that happens. People judge and assess you based on your appearance. They decide for themselves how you must be feeing, what you must be thinking.

I used to contemplate my funeral a lot. Morbid, I know. But it is something very interesting to think about. What would I wear, who is invited, what music should be playing, the shape and colour of my coffin, what to do with my lifeless corpse, etc. etc. And I have long ago come to the conclusion that I want a jovial, lively funeral. One that borders on being facetious.

I want lively salsa renditions of Beethoven and Mozart, and maybe some Fall Out Boy and Santana's sultry guitar playing during my funeral. I want there to be sangrias and Cafe de Olla and Swedish meatballs from Ikea and spaghetti bolognese. I want people to dress in bright sunset colours. I want swathes of rich and vibrant colour against a chic black backdrop (not funeral black, but elegant black), people flitting about having conversations that don't go like this:
"I am sorry for your loss..."
"She was such a -insert dignified, positive adjective- person..."

But instead have conversations like this:
"LOL do you remember the time where she stupidly decided to..."
"Omg did you ever judge her for how she talked to her dogs?"
"I shall miss seeing her fleek cat eyeliner"

I want my eulogy speech to have quotes from my favourite books. It shall be take place only on one day, and guarding of my corpse is unnecessary. I don't want to be buried looking all plain and virginal. I want my corpse to be decked in an elegant baroque-style lolita dress with the bombass makeup and hair to match. I don't need a pearl in my mouth. I want to be buried with all the books I love and the huskie plushie I received as a gift last Christmas.
I shall end off with another quote from another author I dearly love. Because reading all these things written by amazing people make me really happy and less upset about things.

“There's a reason for every journey, and mine was prompted by boredom and the recklessness of youth, by a wish to break the bounds of my normal existence and familiarise myself with life and the world at large.” 

“If flatness were funny, a dinner plate would be hilarious.” 

-Walter Moers

i am a smol confused avocado

yes, you read right. it is i, smol confused avocado. i am definitely not a hijacker who was permitted to write up a dumb post for this blog. i am also definitely not the mermaid daughter. nooooooooo.

did you know that according to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. its wings are too small to get its little fat body off the ground. the bee, of course, flies anyway, because bees don't care what humans think is impossible.

please don't sue me for copyright, it's a meme.

fun fact, the bee movie is my most watched movie of all time. mainly because it was the only movie cd that my family owned that was: 1) family-friendly, 2) didn't have all that ridiculous dvd bullshit; it went straight to the start of the movie. despite that, i still get confused over the plot.

yes, i am still the smol confused avocado. if this fact doesn't coincide with what you know about me, it is because i am confused. like, my name literally says that. don't give me shit for it, you've been warned.

also if you still think i am the mermaid daughter, you would be very wrong, my good sir, because i am smol, confused and an avocado.

why am i an avocado? frankly, i often ask myself that question. was i born this way? did i grow on a lovingly pruned branch and somehow forgot to absorb as many nutrients as i could, resulting in my smolness? did i apparate out of thin air? am i merely a human masquerading as a green fruit and in reality i am just another person in a sea of persons and am not actually the savoury pistachio-tinted deliciousness that is an avocado? am i actually in fact a mermaid and a daughter???

OHGODOHGODOHGODWHOAMI