So tomorrow school begins, and I find it quite frustrating to me. It's not that I've hadn't had enough holiday for a week; I had a 'good' holiday, rather pleasant, so there is actually no reason for me to feel devastated at all upon the fact that tomorrow is Monday and this is the last day of my holiday. It's just that I find the idea of meeting people I rather dislike or even straightforward frown upon is quite unappealing. And the ridiculous idea about the curriculum is also not very interesting to me. I still don't get it why am I forced to learn something that I don't really care about and probably won't even applied in my life, not even once. School is about learning, yes. But you can't throw some shit on us then wondering why the intellectual rate hasn't raised. You give us bullshit and we'll give you crap as a response. That's how it works.
Yes, it is true that I don't know what will and what will not applied in my future - maybe I will work in some farm where hydroponics are the main attention and shit, but I don't think that I need to learn that through the formal way: school. You can't decide what we should and should not learn in school then wonder why we can't make our own decision. I think everyone should decide themselves what they want to learn. True, in Indonesia, now the high schools have three majors: science (IPA/MIA), social science (IPS/IIS), and language (Bahasa/IBB) [limited to few schools only] but there are also other subjects that we are forced to learn whether we like it or not. I'll be blunt: I don't give two shits about religion; who you are is defined by how you act, regardless what's your belief or even if you're an atheist or a theist. I don't care. But yet I am forced to learn about my religion in such manners that it turns my curiosity off. I mean, yeah, I get it, the majority of people in this country are Muslims and even if not so, majority of people still believe that religion is what most matters (and they're not wrong, too) but do you really have to shove that on my face? Along with botany stuff and all the laws and unrealistic idealism and highlighted glory of our history and complex mathematics that are actually quite unnecessary and how to light a lightbulb? Dude, there are these dudes working as what we call electricians! Sure it'll be a nice thing to practice on zombie apocalypse but do I really need to know all the numbers? (answer: yes)
No, I don't hate school. I know some cool people only school was capable of making our paths crossed and I know some cool teachers and some cool stuff to do along with some other cool lessons to learn. I just hate the fact that I have limited to none choice of what I want to learn in school. And the tests! I can be a genius in art but you'll never know that because I can't find its X and I don't know Y.
I love that algebra pun, by the way.
School starts in nine hours forty minutes. Let me drown in tears of desperation by.e
Sunday 29 March 2015
Tuesday 24 March 2015
Movie Review: Whiplash
Oh man I'm writing this right AFTER I watch Whiplash. I mean, the credit title is practically still rolling. Whiplash was awesome, brutal, arrogant, and somehow deep. Let's be a little poetic here: it echoes through your body and resonates through your soul. If you want something harsh, watch Whiplash. If you want something sweet, watch Cinderella. As simple as that.
The story follows Andrew who wants to be a great drummer someday. He practices, he practices, he practices. But somehow, he's still not good enough and his mentor said, 'If you want it, earn it.' And that is exactly what he did. He earned his position but through couple of not so good circumstances, he lost it. He lost it and he quits, and his mentor got fired but when they meet again, his mentor, Fletcher, offers him a position in his new band, saying that Andrew is better than the current drummer. The truth is, Fletcher is an asshole and he traps Andrew. But Andrew is... amazing. He nailed the band, he nailed the jazz festival, it's all in Fletcher's face. And he deserves it. Andrew's spirit amazes me throughout the movie although, well, he did one time act like a jerk when he dumped his girlfriend but that's okay I guess because she also get what she deserves and that is someone better than Andrew. OOOOOOOHHH.
If you think being nice and kind and do some 'hard works' are enough to make you reach your dream this movie will bitch-slap you with reality. Because sometimes, no matter how bad you want it and how much you've tried you still won't get it. But eventually you will get it if you want it bad enough, bad enough that you won't stop even if your hands are bleeding; bad enough that you'll keep going even if you just had a car accident, or even though the one you idolize turns his back on you.
I... I've got nothing else to say.
9.75/10.
Oh, and if you're looking for a rather more 'objective' and 'professional' review, you can read it in Madaboutmoviez.com. I found one really good it makes me think back about the movies.
Movie Review: Insurgent
I really hope they wouldn't make the Allegiant movie.
Don't get me wrong, I like Veronica Roth and I love this adaptation of Insurgent, more than the Divergent one. But the moment the credit title rolls, I knew, I knew that the adaptation has come to an end and another sequel might just as well ruin the whole adaptation. I have no idea how book series adaptation into movies work, but I guess you don't really have to make the WHOLE series a movie. Well, I really do hope so. And if people tell me that, it's not finished yet! We don't know how they will survive beyond the walls and what happened to Caleb and Peter and even Jeanine or Jack Kang! Newsflash:
There is a thing called an open ending.
No stories are obligated to give the audience a conclusion, unless, of course, you prefer children bedtime stories which require a moral conclusion because many adults think kids can't make up the conclusion themselves (which is so goddamn wrong) but anyway. I personally like an open ending as long as it wasn't forced and Insurgent was NOT forced at all. Allegiant will only feel like an added, probably unnecessary sequel.
So why there was an Allegiant book in the first place?
Simple. Because the Insurgent book left some holes that needed to be filled and that's where Allegiant book came from. But the movie, well, I've told you that. The movie didn't have any holes that need to be filled in. It was complete.
But let's talk about Insurgent movie now and this is a SPOILER AREA so if you haven't watch the movie I suggest you to SKIPSKIPSKIP the upcoming paragraph. Or not. I love spoilers.
Tris experiences PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder after witnessing her own parents' death and killed her friend. Tris, Four, Peter, Caleb, and Marcus are in Amity now and Tris keeps dreaming of everyone eventually know about the murder and blame her and the guilt is weighing her down. But she needs to keep moving, right? Well, long story short, Peter betrayed them (wow, surprise, surprise!) and the three of them (Marcus was left in Amity) ran from the Dauntless, met the Factionless and met Evelyn Eaton. Oh my God she's still alive! But their 'hospitality' in the Factionless didn't last long. Four insisted that they need to find other Dauntless which just happened to be with Candor. Caleb said he will be more useful for the Abnegation and the three of them parted. The moment Four and Tris walked into Candor they are arrested. Four managed to make Kang, the leader of Candor, to held their trial with the truth serum in Candor's headquarter instead of handing them to Erudite. There, the truth spilled. Four said that he was controlled in a simulation, along with other Dauntless, to kill the Abnegation. Jeanine made him do so. But Tris was able to stop him. Tris revealed how Jeanine did the simulation and that she wasn't controlled because she's Divergent, but that doesn't mean she didn't hurt anybody. She witnessed her mother died, then her father, then she shot Will because he was under the simulation. "Thank you for your candor" echoed. That night, the Dauntless who took side with the Erudite attacked Candor, looking for any Divergent, but the mission that night failed. All the Dauntless who's on Tris and Four's side moved to the Factionless, where Jeanine used the bullets that were shot to everyone that was in Candor to control Christina, Hector (Lynn's brother), and Marlene to make the announcement: Hand Tris over, or they will all die. Marlene couldn't be saved. Tris eventually gave in and did as Jeanine told her to. It just happened that why Jeanine needed her was so that she could open the box that contained a message from their 'founders', but the box must be opened through all faction's simulation, thus only a Divergent can open it. Peter betrayed Erudite, saved Tris along with Four who came to Erudite to look after her, but Tris said they needed to open the box, and there's only one more simulation left: Amity's. Four and Peter (given no other choice) agreed to get Tris into the lab; Four guarded Tris and Peter messed with Erudite's security to allow them in. In the simulation, Tris learnt that Amity is about forgiving others and herself, so she forgave herself for killing Will, for keeping secrets from everyone, for disappointing her parents. The box unlocked, and the only reason Max and other Dauntless didn't kill her was because Jeanine, obsessed with the box, told them not to. The recorded message was a woman who says that their city was an experiment, and if there's Divergent among them who succeed on opening the box, congratulations. The experiment was nailed. Now, it's time for them to go beyond the walls of their city, living with other human. Jeanine was defeated when other Dauntless with the Factionless came and Four played the message in every city's monitor. The people were excited and together, they walked toward the city's wall. Credit title.
Phew! Wow! Welcome to the spoiler-free area! Thanks for staying with me. Let's talk about how awesome Insurgent was!
The actor and the actresses. Shailene Woodley and Miles Teller NAILED THEIR CHARACTERS. They were so awesome if none of them gets nominated I'd be so disappointed. Then other characters, too, are awesome, but I was amazed by Tris and Peter. The movie was pretty much different than the book but for the first time in probably forever, I think the movie was better than the book. No hard feelings, Veronica Roth. You're still awesome. Then there was the Factionless! Although.... they look more like Dauntless. Where was the mix of factions' clothes? Most of them only wear black and black and a bit of colour but that's it. Why Four needed so much time to finally tell the Factionless he's Tobias Eaton a bit confuses me, but I guess that's because he wanted to avoid his parents as much as possible. Then the simulations Tris went through! They all felt so real I was surprised how can one separates their reality from the simulation they were just in? I guess that's what makes me not a Divergent. I would say that the storyline in the movie was also a bit shorter than the book but I guess we're talking about duration here and nothing felt forced or left insatisfyingly unexplained. Everything was right in their own places and I really want to congratulate Tris for being honest and forgiving to herself even though she went through a really hard time to get there. It's never easy to forgive what we've done.
Congratulations and thank you to all the crew and actors and actresses who made the Insurgent movie possible, also thank you Veronica Roth for making the Divergent series. Ouch this feels like a goodbye. Don't worry, if they insisted on making the Allegiant move you guys will probably see me again next year rambling about it. But I stand my ground: please don't make another sequel. Insurgent is a perfect closure for Divergent.
Rating: 9/10.
Monday 23 March 2015
Musical Review: We Are The In Crowd (WATIC)
I usually don't really like such songs, you know where the singer feels just so betrayed and blame everything on their ex (kinda like Taylor Swift's songs, only that this is the pop-punk version of it) and I was, ew. But a commenter on the video said that those songs are actually very personal and emotional for the lead singer (which is female, btw, so the Taylor Swift vibe is kinda strong in this one - and surprise, her name is Tay, too!) because they were written after she broke up with Alex ATL who dumped her for his current fiancee. And I quote this from my comment on one of their music video where it features Gaskarth:
Alex Gaskarth looks exactly like that hot sexually active guy who will capture your heart with his smile then break it by kissing another girl, like, you know, the accidentally villain but true asshole you found in contemporary teenlit novels. And Taylor Jardine is the shy girl, amateur in love and just happens to caught Gaskarth's attention. They went out for date couple of times, Gaskarth made Jardine felt special then shatter her imagination of them together forever by making out with the CCP girl. Any writers here? Because this is writing material.
Because, hey, it looks exactly like it! I kinda feel sorry for Jardine, she probably didn't know what was coming. But anyway, it's in the past and it has nothing to do with me even though currently I'm obsessed with ATL's albums. Oh well.
Their music is pretty fun to dance around to on your bedroom and your living room and your kitchen. Probably. I haven't done that. Like I said, I just discovered them probably an hour 45 minutes ago so I haven't got the chance to do so. One thing though, the singer(s) remind me of The Hush Sound. No, not because they are similar, not in the same genre. But both bands, WATIC and THS, has a female lead singer and a male singer. I was going to say 'backup' but they do more than just backing up. They got their own lines to sing so I guess... part-time singer full time guitarist?
I give them 6/10. Yes, I can be cruel and sadistic when it comes to giving ratings. Why I choose to give them six out of ten is because for the past an hour and 50 minutes I've been listening to their songs and even now while I'm typing this but I still haven't get what makes their music unique. What will make people recognise their music as theirs from like, the first seven seconds. But I guess they're pretty good. The band formed in 2009 and no member ever leave or replaced, compared to SWS which was formed in the same year. I guess WATIC will only get better and eventually they'll find their own voice. And I hope for no member departure or replacements. I hate those kind of things - not that it matters, tho.
Thursday 19 March 2015
Why So-Called Positive Comparison Isn't Positive AT ALL
Everyone compares. That's the truth. It's almost as if comparing is now a human natural instinct. Some do it on purpose some others don't. Between so many comparisons there are few that I call "positive comparison". Not that it's any better than any other type of comparison, but these comparisons are meant to make one feel the need to be better than oneself. Example given (and that's what e.g. stands for for those of you who don't know): Class A is doing better than Class B. I - we - get that a lot.
From the example I gave to you, I hope you already see how lame so-called "positive comparison" is. Everyone get it; the teacher wants the kids in Class B to improve so that they can match Class A, but more often than not, it only makes the Class B kids dislike the teacher. True story.
While the true intention of positive comparison is to move the compared one motivated to do better, it also implicitly states that there is something wrong with the compared one. Maybe it's one's method of studying, maybe it's one's way of applying makeup, maybe it's one's way of tying one's shoes, etc. And it's not nice. It's not nice and it's not motivating at all. If you raise your kids with this positive comparison hoping they'll grow some competitive character, yes, they will. But they will also likely to compare themselves, always feeling like they are worse when they see someone does it better, and they will see their own self worth only based on their ability of doing better than others. If you want your children to grow up into a person like that, go ahead. I personally don't.
And I personally don't like comparisons. Period.
From the example I gave to you, I hope you already see how lame so-called "positive comparison" is. Everyone get it; the teacher wants the kids in Class B to improve so that they can match Class A, but more often than not, it only makes the Class B kids dislike the teacher. True story.
While the true intention of positive comparison is to move the compared one motivated to do better, it also implicitly states that there is something wrong with the compared one. Maybe it's one's method of studying, maybe it's one's way of applying makeup, maybe it's one's way of tying one's shoes, etc. And it's not nice. It's not nice and it's not motivating at all. If you raise your kids with this positive comparison hoping they'll grow some competitive character, yes, they will. But they will also likely to compare themselves, always feeling like they are worse when they see someone does it better, and they will see their own self worth only based on their ability of doing better than others. If you want your children to grow up into a person like that, go ahead. I personally don't.
And I personally don't like comparisons. Period.
Tuesday 17 March 2015
Pentingnya Belajar
Numpang wifi ruang guru yeay.
Jadi tadi aku UTS pelajaran terakhir. Bahasa Jepang. Kayak yang udah pernah kubilang sebelumnya, K13 angkatanku gak ada pelajaran bahasa Jepang di jurusan IBB, jadi aku ngambil lintas minat. Dan sekarang aku nganggur. Aku ragu sekolah udah ngebolehin pulang karena ini masih pagi banget, dan di jadwal UTS jam ketiga dan keempat ada yang namanya Sekolah Ramah Anak. Katanya sih seminar. Aku sih males. Kapan sih aku semangat ikut kegiatan sekolah?
Well anyway.
Selama pekan UTS ini aku gak sekalipun belajar. Gak. Sekali. Pun. Aku belajarnya udah dari kemarin-kemarin, sebelum UTS. Gak tau deh itu termasuk belajar untuk UTS apa nggak. Tapi ya gitulah pokoknya.
Nah, singkat cerita, begitu ngadepin soal bahasa Jepang (yang ternyata esai!) aku blank.
Bangun itu apa?
Nemasu?
Okimasu?
Mungkin Nemasu.
Aku tulis Nemasu.
Cuci muka apa? Umm blablabla o kakimasu?
Yaudah tulis.
Mandi? Oh gampang. Shawaa o.... um.... apa ya?
Berdoa itu.... oh ya. Oinori o shimasu.
Majalah? Koran? Zeitung? Oh, nein. Das ist Deutsch. Jepangnya apa?
Lewat deh. Komik? Manga.
Pulang? Rumah? Bioskop? Pergi? Ikan? Daging? Sayur-sayuran? Buah-buahan? APA ITU?
Doodle.
Doodle doodle doodle. *musik Wiggle main*
Aku jawab semua pertanyaan yang aku gak tau pake doodle.
Telur? Gambar telur.
Rumah? Gambar rumah.
Minum? Gambar gurita lagi minum.
Baca? Gambar makhluk gak jelas lagi baca KBBI.
Karangan? Gambar gulungan kertas yang terbuka.
Mendengarkan? Gambar orang dengerin musik.
Kemudian Ida Sensei menghampiri. MAMPUS.
"Kamu ngapain? Lho, malah digambar?"
He he he he he he he.
"Gak belajar ya?"
He he he.
Bahkan gurunya pun komentar bahwa aku biasanya gak gini. Iya, biasanya saya pinter bu, soalnya kalau post-test kan persis begitu materinya selesai diajarkan jadi masih fresh :'>
Jadi singkat cerita, ini UTS terakhirku (di semester ini) and I'm screwed.
Gak enaknya adalah karena bu Ida baik banget, dan bilang, "Yaudah, perbaiki lagi nanti."
Huwaaaa. Kenapa si ibu harus baik banget? Kan aku jadi gak enakk.
Oh well.
Jadi tadi aku UTS pelajaran terakhir. Bahasa Jepang. Kayak yang udah pernah kubilang sebelumnya, K13 angkatanku gak ada pelajaran bahasa Jepang di jurusan IBB, jadi aku ngambil lintas minat. Dan sekarang aku nganggur. Aku ragu sekolah udah ngebolehin pulang karena ini masih pagi banget, dan di jadwal UTS jam ketiga dan keempat ada yang namanya Sekolah Ramah Anak. Katanya sih seminar. Aku sih males. Kapan sih aku semangat ikut kegiatan sekolah?
Well anyway.
Selama pekan UTS ini aku gak sekalipun belajar. Gak. Sekali. Pun. Aku belajarnya udah dari kemarin-kemarin, sebelum UTS. Gak tau deh itu termasuk belajar untuk UTS apa nggak. Tapi ya gitulah pokoknya.
Nah, singkat cerita, begitu ngadepin soal bahasa Jepang (yang ternyata esai!) aku blank.
Bangun itu apa?
Nemasu?
Okimasu?
Mungkin Nemasu.
Aku tulis Nemasu.
Cuci muka apa? Umm blablabla o kakimasu?
Yaudah tulis.
Mandi? Oh gampang. Shawaa o.... um.... apa ya?
Berdoa itu.... oh ya. Oinori o shimasu.
Majalah? Koran? Zeitung? Oh, nein. Das ist Deutsch. Jepangnya apa?
Lewat deh. Komik? Manga.
Pulang? Rumah? Bioskop? Pergi? Ikan? Daging? Sayur-sayuran? Buah-buahan? APA ITU?
Doodle.
Doodle doodle doodle. *musik Wiggle main*
Aku jawab semua pertanyaan yang aku gak tau pake doodle.
Telur? Gambar telur.
Rumah? Gambar rumah.
Minum? Gambar gurita lagi minum.
Baca? Gambar makhluk gak jelas lagi baca KBBI.
Karangan? Gambar gulungan kertas yang terbuka.
Mendengarkan? Gambar orang dengerin musik.
Kemudian Ida Sensei menghampiri. MAMPUS.
"Kamu ngapain? Lho, malah digambar?"
He he he he he he he.
"Gak belajar ya?"
He he he.
Bahkan gurunya pun komentar bahwa aku biasanya gak gini. Iya, biasanya saya pinter bu, soalnya kalau post-test kan persis begitu materinya selesai diajarkan jadi masih fresh :'>
Jadi singkat cerita, ini UTS terakhirku (di semester ini) and I'm screwed.
Gak enaknya adalah karena bu Ida baik banget, dan bilang, "Yaudah, perbaiki lagi nanti."
Huwaaaa. Kenapa si ibu harus baik banget? Kan aku jadi gak enakk.
Oh well.
Monday 16 March 2015
12 vs 17
Driven by a tweet I found earlier today, I decide to write this post. That, and the fact that I still have no interest whatsoever on doing my history homework.
Sorry not sorry.
Well anyway. The tweet says the difference between a 12 year old me vs 18 year old me. And while by no means I'm eighteen (it's next year) I think, why not. Let's see how different I've been throughout the year.
First case: Future.
I remember when I was 12 I was so sure about the world and my place on it and what I'd want to do. I was like, "Oh, I want to go to high school and take major in language, or perhaps social. Then I'd graduate and get into UNPAD, taking an anthropology major or perhaps literature. Then I'd become a famous writer and everyone will know my name!"
The (almost) seventeen year old me?
I scoffed. I sCOFFED when my mom told me my stepfather told her his opinion of me. He says, "She's the kind of person who is so sure of her own future. She has plans already and she knows exactly what she's going to do."
Meanwhile I just sit here like, Plx hewp.
I don't know what I'm doing with my LIFE! *dramatic hair rip off*
I don't even know what I want to be anymore! I don't even know whether I want to get into college/university anymore! I don't even fucking know what I'm going to eat tomorrow for breakfast and yOU EXPECT ME TO ALREADY HAVE PLANS TO EXECUTE FOR MY OWN FUTURE? oh my god please help don't that's too much like i can't
i
can't.
Second case: Friendship and Social Encounters.
The twelve year old me was still bruised from all the crap her elementary school classmates gave her so she sees people as a creature needs to be avoided as much as possible. I probably won't talk to you unless it's a matter of life and death.
The seventeen year old me has friends and acquaintances nearly everywhere she goes but only very few selected people she trust. BUT she's also the kind of a girl you'll find dancing and/or singing (probably both) in public places and pretend that she's actually in a music video (and she's the main artist). Sometimes it might be fun to hang around with her but most of the time you'll wish you never knew her (trust me I have trusted sources).
Third case: Self-perceiving
When I was twelve, people seem to think of me as a very confident, brave, and loud person. When in reality, I spent nearly my entire time wishing I was someone else; someone prettier, smarter, funnier, thinner, et cetera. So basically I cover up my own low self esteem behind a very loud (and rather annoying, actually) personality.
Me now:
Oh you think you're cooler than me? How cute.
Oh my gosh I'm so sorry if my opinion disturbs you.
Gurll my hair looks cute today.
What the fuck you mean my hair is a mess? Do you know how many HOURS I spent to make it look like THIS?
Hey I have a very beautiful pair of eyes!
Let me stare right into you until I shatter your innocent and naive soul and make it miserable like mine.
I'm brave. I'm brave. I can do this. It's just a movie.
hOLY CRAP IT'S NOT JUST A MOVIE PLEASE STOP IT I NEED MY SLEEP TONIGHT.
Hey do you think I look fat?
I'm actually curvy.
Jesus Christ what do you mean I'm thin I'm fat that's a fact.
I can make a good rhyme.
Poetry making? Ugh I'm so bad at this.
Why are you staring at me like that?
Do my friends ever talk about me when I'm not around?
Nah nothing to worry about I'm awesome.
OH SHIT PIMPLE! It ruins my entire perfect look!
I'm a duck.
What do you mean I can't be a duck?
Okay fine. I'm a unicorn duck.
UNIDUCK.
Fourth case: Dealing with (annoying) People.
The twelve year old me would just dismiss them and looking at them disgustedly. Then I'd come to my mom to tell her everything about it. Except, well, you know, the person I'm having a problem with is my mom. I'll probably just sleep it off.
The (almost) seventeen year old me would just dismiss them and don't even bother to shot them a look. Then I'd come to my mom to tell her everything about it. Except, well, you know, she's the one who annoys me (or other way around). In that case, I'll probably just sleep it off.
Fifth case: Appetite.
The twelve year old me would like a pizza for dinner, please.
The seventeen year old me would like a pizza for dinner, please.
As you can see, people change. Even me. When I was twelve, I was all like, "Jeez leave me alone! I know what I'm doing, I know what I'm gonna do with my life. You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot be! I don't need your help!"
Then the almost seventeen year old me is just like, Hey how do you open a bottle cap?
It's amazing what five years can do. Back then I was so sure about what I want to be and how I will reach that goal, now I don't even know how to graduate from high school. When people asked me what major I'd want to take in university I used to say anthropology with certainty. Now I only say anthropology because that's more or less been programmed automatically. I used to say I want to be a writer now I barely write a story worth reading (well, they're worth reading, but probably not worth published - who wants to read an erotica written by a seventeen year old anyway?).
I don't even know whether to applaud my 12 year old certainty or laugh at my 17 year old helplessness. Or mock my 12 year old point of view of how the world's should be and give the 17 year old me a pat on the back for the lazy, rather cynical view. What I know is that the world is a shitty place and only those who are willing to do anything to get what they want would own it. But at least both version of me know that.
But chill. It's okay to have no plan yet, I guess. I haven't even seventeen. I'm young and I have time. Probably. What's the point of going to university if in the end it's just a waste of money?
So relax. And learn how to pull off a goddamn fucking cap.
Sorry not sorry.
Well anyway. The tweet says the difference between a 12 year old me vs 18 year old me. And while by no means I'm eighteen (it's next year) I think, why not. Let's see how different I've been throughout the year.
First case: Future.
I remember when I was 12 I was so sure about the world and my place on it and what I'd want to do. I was like, "Oh, I want to go to high school and take major in language, or perhaps social. Then I'd graduate and get into UNPAD, taking an anthropology major or perhaps literature. Then I'd become a famous writer and everyone will know my name!"
The (almost) seventeen year old me?
I scoffed. I sCOFFED when my mom told me my stepfather told her his opinion of me. He says, "She's the kind of person who is so sure of her own future. She has plans already and she knows exactly what she's going to do."
Meanwhile I just sit here like, Plx hewp.
I don't know what I'm doing with my LIFE! *dramatic hair rip off*
I don't even know what I want to be anymore! I don't even know whether I want to get into college/university anymore! I don't even fucking know what I'm going to eat tomorrow for breakfast and yOU EXPECT ME TO ALREADY HAVE PLANS TO EXECUTE FOR MY OWN FUTURE? oh my god please help don't that's too much like i can't
i
can't.
Second case: Friendship and Social Encounters.
The twelve year old me was still bruised from all the crap her elementary school classmates gave her so she sees people as a creature needs to be avoided as much as possible. I probably won't talk to you unless it's a matter of life and death.
The seventeen year old me has friends and acquaintances nearly everywhere she goes but only very few selected people she trust. BUT she's also the kind of a girl you'll find dancing and/or singing (probably both) in public places and pretend that she's actually in a music video (and she's the main artist). Sometimes it might be fun to hang around with her but most of the time you'll wish you never knew her (trust me I have trusted sources).
Third case: Self-perceiving
When I was twelve, people seem to think of me as a very confident, brave, and loud person. When in reality, I spent nearly my entire time wishing I was someone else; someone prettier, smarter, funnier, thinner, et cetera. So basically I cover up my own low self esteem behind a very loud (and rather annoying, actually) personality.
Me now:
Oh you think you're cooler than me? How cute.
Oh my gosh I'm so sorry if my opinion disturbs you.
Gurll my hair looks cute today.
What the fuck you mean my hair is a mess? Do you know how many HOURS I spent to make it look like THIS?
Hey I have a very beautiful pair of eyes!
Let me stare right into you until I shatter your innocent and naive soul and make it miserable like mine.
I'm brave. I'm brave. I can do this. It's just a movie.
hOLY CRAP IT'S NOT JUST A MOVIE PLEASE STOP IT I NEED MY SLEEP TONIGHT.
Hey do you think I look fat?
I'm actually curvy.
Jesus Christ what do you mean I'm thin I'm fat that's a fact.
I can make a good rhyme.
Poetry making? Ugh I'm so bad at this.
Why are you staring at me like that?
Do my friends ever talk about me when I'm not around?
Nah nothing to worry about I'm awesome.
OH SHIT PIMPLE! It ruins my entire perfect look!
I'm a duck.
What do you mean I can't be a duck?
Okay fine. I'm a unicorn duck.
UNIDUCK.
Fourth case: Dealing with (annoying) People.
The twelve year old me would just dismiss them and looking at them disgustedly. Then I'd come to my mom to tell her everything about it. Except, well, you know, the person I'm having a problem with is my mom. I'll probably just sleep it off.
The (almost) seventeen year old me would just dismiss them and don't even bother to shot them a look. Then I'd come to my mom to tell her everything about it. Except, well, you know, she's the one who annoys me (or other way around). In that case, I'll probably just sleep it off.
Fifth case: Appetite.
The twelve year old me would like a pizza for dinner, please.
The seventeen year old me would like a pizza for dinner, please.
As you can see, people change. Even me. When I was twelve, I was all like, "Jeez leave me alone! I know what I'm doing, I know what I'm gonna do with my life. You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot be! I don't need your help!"
Then the almost seventeen year old me is just like, Hey how do you open a bottle cap?
It's amazing what five years can do. Back then I was so sure about what I want to be and how I will reach that goal, now I don't even know how to graduate from high school. When people asked me what major I'd want to take in university I used to say anthropology with certainty. Now I only say anthropology because that's more or less been programmed automatically. I used to say I want to be a writer now I barely write a story worth reading (well, they're worth reading, but probably not worth published - who wants to read an erotica written by a seventeen year old anyway?).
I don't even know whether to applaud my 12 year old certainty or laugh at my 17 year old helplessness. Or mock my 12 year old point of view of how the world's should be and give the 17 year old me a pat on the back for the lazy, rather cynical view. What I know is that the world is a shitty place and only those who are willing to do anything to get what they want would own it. But at least both version of me know that.
But chill. It's okay to have no plan yet, I guess. I haven't even seventeen. I'm young and I have time. Probably. What's the point of going to university if in the end it's just a waste of money?
So relax. And learn how to pull off a goddamn fucking cap.
Sunday 15 March 2015
To Makeup or Not To Makeup
Let me tell you a story.
Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago, there was a young girl who seeks comfort within books and music. Music videos after music videos she sees so many makeup look and decides she wants to be a goth girl.
Thus, the sotry bagen.
Yeah alright I'm going to admit: I don't even remember at what exact age I started experimenting with makeup but I sure as hell remember one photo I took when I was like around 11 or 13 and I looked like a gODDAMN 30 SOMETHING YEAR OLD WOMAN.
*shudders*
Those were the dark days.
As the year goes by I might just dare to say that I'm getting better and better with makeup and I also got some kind of improvement with the tools, too. But unfortunately I don't have enough occasion to show people my... um... experiment.
Being a high school student in a public local school I am strictly prohibited to wear any makeup to school. Oh sure you can still find some lip tints here and there but that's it. No eyeliner, no blushes, no lipsticks, let alone any fake lashes. Oh, and by the way, am I the only one who doesn't like to wear mascara? Please tell me I'm not alone on this train. But anyway. I also don't hangout a lot - I'm sure if you've been around for quite some time you already know that. I have no life, okay. YouTube and sleep is basically my life.
So long story short, I wasn't given much chances to show people my makeup in real life and that makes everything kinda tricky, because I need feedbacks to get better and my mom is pretty helpful but let's be real; she can points out things that don't look right on my face but she has no idea how to fix it. I'm sorry Mother, but we all know compared to you, I'm the expert on makeup.
ANYHOW.
With little to none chance available for me to show people my look and ask their opinions about it I'd rather just play around in my room and watching YouTube beauty videos and judge my look myself. And if you think being judged by other people is hard, you clearly have never been standing in front of a mirror and think, "Is my eyebrow on point or not?"
Because I'm constantly in a battle between Yes and No. And that is WAAAAAAAAYYYY harder than to decide where to eat (and I'm terrible at this so I know what I'm talking about).
So the question stays: To makeup or not to makeup?
I choose to makeup instead. At least hon, if my look scares you it'll be a pretty good time.
Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago, there was a young girl who seeks comfort within books and music. Music videos after music videos she sees so many makeup look and decides she wants to be a goth girl.
Thus, the sotry bagen.
Yeah alright I'm going to admit: I don't even remember at what exact age I started experimenting with makeup but I sure as hell remember one photo I took when I was like around 11 or 13 and I looked like a gODDAMN 30 SOMETHING YEAR OLD WOMAN.
*shudders*
Those were the dark days.
As the year goes by I might just dare to say that I'm getting better and better with makeup and I also got some kind of improvement with the tools, too. But unfortunately I don't have enough occasion to show people my... um... experiment.
Being a high school student in a public local school I am strictly prohibited to wear any makeup to school. Oh sure you can still find some lip tints here and there but that's it. No eyeliner, no blushes, no lipsticks, let alone any fake lashes. Oh, and by the way, am I the only one who doesn't like to wear mascara? Please tell me I'm not alone on this train. But anyway. I also don't hangout a lot - I'm sure if you've been around for quite some time you already know that. I have no life, okay. YouTube and sleep is basically my life.
So long story short, I wasn't given much chances to show people my makeup in real life and that makes everything kinda tricky, because I need feedbacks to get better and my mom is pretty helpful but let's be real; she can points out things that don't look right on my face but she has no idea how to fix it. I'm sorry Mother, but we all know compared to you, I'm the expert on makeup.
ANYHOW.
With little to none chance available for me to show people my look and ask their opinions about it I'd rather just play around in my room and watching YouTube beauty videos and judge my look myself. And if you think being judged by other people is hard, you clearly have never been standing in front of a mirror and think, "Is my eyebrow on point or not?"
Because I'm constantly in a battle between Yes and No. And that is WAAAAAAAAYYYY harder than to decide where to eat (and I'm terrible at this so I know what I'm talking about).
So the question stays: To makeup or not to makeup?
I choose to makeup instead. At least hon, if my look scares you it'll be a pretty good time.
Saturday 14 March 2015
Is Being Different Makes You Better?
I had a quite rough start in life. Not *that* rough, but still pretty rough. I was used of people misunderstood me and left alone. Believe it or not, when I was in elementary school, there was two cliques in my classroom: theirs and mine.
My clique, well, only consists of me.
Pretty lame, huh.
Well, I wasn't *that* alone. Sometimes they let me play with them, too. But there were these "popular" kids, you know, the ones who seem to lead the group and everyone listens to them and agree with them and those who do not weren't dare enough to shout their disagreement.
Except for me, of course. That was very stupid of me, to yell my disagreement out loud. But what can I say. I was so little and young and innocent and had always been taught to say exactly what I mean.
Wait. I'm still that stupid kid yelling her disagreement. Only, if I may say, I do it much, much cooler this time. I do it while in the freezer.
*CROWD BOOS*
Well, anyway. Sometimes the kids let me play with them but, well, most of the time the popular kids wouldn't let me and what the popular kids do that's what the other kids will follow.
Not me, of course. I didn't have a Twitter back then.
*ba dum tss*
LAME JOKES.
SO. Moving on to junior high. I begin to accept the fact that I am different than anyone else and I try to cherish myself as what I am but theeenn. I begin to see those who are different than me, the ones who'd rather be in a group and follows whatever the leader says and does, as... weak. Pathetic. Lame. Lower than me. I'd rather be alone and only accompanied by a selected few of people than hanging out with a large number of a group. That thing still exhaust me sometimes. But long story short, I begin to be one of those popular kids who "bullied" me back in elementary school, only the difference is, I am alone. I judge people, I make assumptions about them, I treat most people as if they were less than me.
And in high school I realise that I am no better than anyone.
I mean, yeah, I speak Enlighs more fluenter then my freinds, and I can make stories in half time they needed to make the title and I can ramble 900 words three times faster than they say their own full name, but that doesn't make me any better. There's still someone who is braver than me, neater than me, friendlier than me, faster than me, funnier than me, and fuck things up better than me - and I guarantee you that's pretty rare, man. And these people are what I used to think as "commoner" back in junior high. They're the girls who go anywhere in groups and talk about boys, the boys who swore in each fucking sentence where they fucking talk shit. The kids who blend in well. The kids who stand out proudly. The girl that got 100 in traditional language. The boy who got 95 in athletics. The kids who follow the trends, the kids that seem to can't live happily without their iPhones, the kids that get into a new relationship every semester.
I was an outcast, and in order to make me feel better I made myself believe that I was outcasted for being better than them. I didn't realise that it only made me as bad as they were. To think that being different makes you special is not true. To believe that everyone is special, regardless if they fit into the society's standards or not, that is the true truth.
So the answer is, No.
Being different doesn't make you better.
It does, however, makes you stand out. Noticeable. Easier to spot. And whether you want to be good different or bad different, that is up to your choice. Life is about choosing, whether you want that chocolate biscuit Oreo ice cream sandwich or the extra mozzarella topped pizza.
I am different, but I am not alone. There are other people like me, who was once an outcast and found their way back to themselves. We may not share common interests but we were on the same journey.
I am different, but I am not better than anyone. I have my flaws and strengths.
I am no better than anyone, nor I am less than anyone.
I'm just me. And I'm off to snack hunting with my beloved mother (she doesn't know this now, but she'll pay).
My clique, well, only consists of me.
Pretty lame, huh.
Well, I wasn't *that* alone. Sometimes they let me play with them, too. But there were these "popular" kids, you know, the ones who seem to lead the group and everyone listens to them and agree with them and those who do not weren't dare enough to shout their disagreement.
Except for me, of course. That was very stupid of me, to yell my disagreement out loud. But what can I say. I was so little and young and innocent and had always been taught to say exactly what I mean.
Wait. I'm still that stupid kid yelling her disagreement. Only, if I may say, I do it much, much cooler this time. I do it while in the freezer.
*CROWD BOOS*
Well, anyway. Sometimes the kids let me play with them but, well, most of the time the popular kids wouldn't let me and what the popular kids do that's what the other kids will follow.
Not me, of course. I didn't have a Twitter back then.
*ba dum tss*
LAME JOKES.
SO. Moving on to junior high. I begin to accept the fact that I am different than anyone else and I try to cherish myself as what I am but theeenn. I begin to see those who are different than me, the ones who'd rather be in a group and follows whatever the leader says and does, as... weak. Pathetic. Lame. Lower than me. I'd rather be alone and only accompanied by a selected few of people than hanging out with a large number of a group. That thing still exhaust me sometimes. But long story short, I begin to be one of those popular kids who "bullied" me back in elementary school, only the difference is, I am alone. I judge people, I make assumptions about them, I treat most people as if they were less than me.
And in high school I realise that I am no better than anyone.
I mean, yeah, I speak Enlighs more fluenter then my freinds, and I can make stories in half time they needed to make the title and I can ramble 900 words three times faster than they say their own full name, but that doesn't make me any better. There's still someone who is braver than me, neater than me, friendlier than me, faster than me, funnier than me, and fuck things up better than me - and I guarantee you that's pretty rare, man. And these people are what I used to think as "commoner" back in junior high. They're the girls who go anywhere in groups and talk about boys, the boys who swore in each fucking sentence where they fucking talk shit. The kids who blend in well. The kids who stand out proudly. The girl that got 100 in traditional language. The boy who got 95 in athletics. The kids who follow the trends, the kids that seem to can't live happily without their iPhones, the kids that get into a new relationship every semester.
I was an outcast, and in order to make me feel better I made myself believe that I was outcasted for being better than them. I didn't realise that it only made me as bad as they were. To think that being different makes you special is not true. To believe that everyone is special, regardless if they fit into the society's standards or not, that is the true truth.
So the answer is, No.
Being different doesn't make you better.
It does, however, makes you stand out. Noticeable. Easier to spot. And whether you want to be good different or bad different, that is up to your choice. Life is about choosing, whether you want that chocolate biscuit Oreo ice cream sandwich or the extra mozzarella topped pizza.
I am different, but I am not alone. There are other people like me, who was once an outcast and found their way back to themselves. We may not share common interests but we were on the same journey.
I am different, but I am not better than anyone. I have my flaws and strengths.
I am no better than anyone, nor I am less than anyone.
I'm just me. And I'm off to snack hunting with my beloved mother (she doesn't know this now, but she'll pay).
Tuesday 10 March 2015
Hair and Hare
I've been wearing my hair different since yesterday. I usually either pin it into a bun, a messy bun, or tie it ponytail-like. But yesterday and today, I tie them high twintail-like.
It sure does make my hair looks fuller (from front view) and adding the cute innocent feel (even though everyone who knows me I am neither). And I don't know if hairstyle correlates with mood but when I wear my hair like that it makes me feel like a kid again. You know, the kind, naive kid. The one that sees the world as all candies and rainbows and want to bring smile to everyone's face. Not that it's a bad thing, it's just that I'm not usually like that. My face alone is very common to be found looks like wanting to kill someone.
But anyway.
When I met my friend while giving her the book she wanted to borrow she saw my hair and said, "Well, now, look at that! If you wear your hair like that you look pretty, unlike yesterday [when I twist it into a messy bun], that's not right."
And I was like
excuse me.
Everyone can have their opinions, it's true. Just don't be a dick about it. I mean, it's my hair. It looked messy the other day because it is called messy bun. I'm sorry if unlike other girls, when my hair looks messy it doesn't look messy on purpose. I twisted it into a messy bun because it was 1) easier, 2) doesn't take too much time, and 3) it keeps my hair off my face (which is the most important thing because I can't concentrate if my sleeve's too long my hair keeps getting on my way). So for unfair one-sided pro comparison, while other girls trying so hard (and by so hard I mean extremely hard - it would take them couple of tries up to 15 minutes) to make their hair looks messy yet neat and cute to give themselves the cute cool uncaring of their appearance (which, as stated before, is not true), I don't even try.
I don't even have to try that hard, and that's not because I'm already cute (which is actually true) or cool (which has always been true) or uncaring (which unfortunately, still true) of my own appearance. Many girls have stated that they do their make up, their hair, their dress, for themselves. And maybe those girls who try sooo hard are doing it for them too, because trying so hard doesn't always correlates with trying to win other people's approval (I've done my hair for up to 15 minutes also and doing my make up almost three times longer than that to satisfy myself, too), it's just it takes so much more number of tries to make themselves satisfied than it takes to make me satisfied about themselves. But sometimes things could get the opposite. While they do their hair for like half a minute I'm still struggling to decide how do I want to do my hair. Girls are just like that. We spend hours and hours trying to look perfect only to stay in doing movie marathon while eating ice cream and basically destroying the hours worth of purrfect look.
But, well, the point is, if you want to compliment someone about their hair, don't ever say that the other way they do their hair isn't right. You don't know my story. You don't know what I've been through. You have no right to judge me.
Wait I just judged other girls. Oh well. Hypocrisy at its best.
It sure does make my hair looks fuller (from front view) and adding the cute innocent feel (even though everyone who knows me I am neither). And I don't know if hairstyle correlates with mood but when I wear my hair like that it makes me feel like a kid again. You know, the kind, naive kid. The one that sees the world as all candies and rainbows and want to bring smile to everyone's face. Not that it's a bad thing, it's just that I'm not usually like that. My face alone is very common to be found looks like wanting to kill someone.
But anyway.
When I met my friend while giving her the book she wanted to borrow she saw my hair and said, "Well, now, look at that! If you wear your hair like that you look pretty, unlike yesterday [when I twist it into a messy bun], that's not right."
And I was like
excuse me.
Everyone can have their opinions, it's true. Just don't be a dick about it. I mean, it's my hair. It looked messy the other day because it is called messy bun. I'm sorry if unlike other girls, when my hair looks messy it doesn't look messy on purpose. I twisted it into a messy bun because it was 1) easier, 2) doesn't take too much time, and 3) it keeps my hair off my face (which is the most important thing because I can't concentrate if my sleeve's too long my hair keeps getting on my way). So for unfair one-sided pro comparison, while other girls trying so hard (and by so hard I mean extremely hard - it would take them couple of tries up to 15 minutes) to make their hair looks messy yet neat and cute to give themselves the cute cool uncaring of their appearance (which, as stated before, is not true), I don't even try.
I don't even have to try that hard, and that's not because I'm already cute (which is actually true) or cool (which has always been true) or uncaring (which unfortunately, still true) of my own appearance. Many girls have stated that they do their make up, their hair, their dress, for themselves. And maybe those girls who try sooo hard are doing it for them too, because trying so hard doesn't always correlates with trying to win other people's approval (I've done my hair for up to 15 minutes also and doing my make up almost three times longer than that to satisfy myself, too), it's just it takes so much more number of tries to make themselves satisfied than it takes to make me satisfied about themselves. But sometimes things could get the opposite. While they do their hair for like half a minute I'm still struggling to decide how do I want to do my hair. Girls are just like that. We spend hours and hours trying to look perfect only to stay in doing movie marathon while eating ice cream and basically destroying the hours worth of purrfect look.
But, well, the point is, if you want to compliment someone about their hair, don't ever say that the other way they do their hair isn't right. You don't know my story. You don't know what I've been through. You have no right to judge me.
Wait I just judged other girls. Oh well. Hypocrisy at its best.
Sunday 8 March 2015
A Twilight Thought
Look at the sky. No, not the sky on the horizon. Look up, look at the sky above your head.
So high, unreachable. And they are. You can be right in the middle of the Earth's atmosphere and you still can't touch the sky. Because the sky isn't real. It's just an illusion your brain makes. The sky is waves, long and short, and reflecting the sun's colour. Or so I heard. Your brain catches one short wave and that wave just happens to reflect the colour blue. That's why the sky is blue. In reality the sky is not blue. There isn't even any skies to begin with.
Think about it that way.
Your brain is what lets you see the blue in the sky. Your brain lets you see those white and grey fluffy things called clouds as whales, mermaids, cows, cheetahs, or even the back of a gigantic flying bird. Those stuff aren't real. They are merely illusions of your brain.
Think about the long, sharp, tinted equipment people use to write on paper. People call them pen. How do you know that it's a pen? Because it has been introduced to you before. You probably have used it before. You might even collecting some. The memory stored in your brain; the image, the feel, the experience of using one. Imagine if your brain malfunctioned. Your eyes can still see those things called pens but you will no longer be able to acknowledge it. You don't know what it is, you don't know what it is for, you don't know how to use it, you don't even know what's that thing doing in front of you. You see, but you don't translate the long, pointed, tinted equipment. Jesus, you might don't even know what does "long" means, let alone "equipment".
The brain is the strangest and strongest organ in your body. In our body. You might want to consider to call it even stronger than the heart because heart keeps your body alive but without your brain you can do nothing. The brain controls what you do, what you think, what you say, how you feel, how you touch, how you smell, how you move, how you live. If the brain is dead, you might still be able to see or hear or smell something but you wouldn't have a slightest idea of what it is because the brain translates everything around you, correlates them with a memory, thus resulting in the 'aha!' moment when you realise what you're smelling is actually a grilled cheese or that song you heard in the distance is Carly Rae Jepsen's I Really Like You or the movie you accidentally saw the trailer was Frozen Fever trailer.
Now, knowing that you are considerably useless without your brain, think about this: the brain is the strongest organ in your body, and you can also make the strongest out of yourself with the help of your brain. You can be faster, quicker, smarter, wittier, cooler, hotter, geniuser, player, sober, refrigerater, I'm just making up words that ends with -er. The key is to make your brain works for you, or if you like it smoother, with you. Your brain might be the strongest organ but your mind is weak. Your mind will likely give up before you actually reach your limit. So make your brain works for you, your mind works for you, and you will likely achieve anything you want. You want to date Jennifer Lawrence? Go ahead. Make yourself believe that you can and when you go into the fields full of bloodbathing boys and girls who also have the same goal as you, join the party. Kill people - NOT literally. Kick left, punch right. Go for Jennifer. Go for those beautiful curvy ten hamburger a day eating legs. DO NOT ever think midfight "nah fuck it man i'm gonna die" because you know what's going to happen next? You'll die. Believe that you can before you start, believe that you can on progress, know that you can when you kiss Jennifer Lawrence and pass that kiss among us the common people who can only admire her nose. But seriously though, her nose is perfection.
Now you got it. Your brain is amazing and so are you. Make your brain works for you, with you, and you can achieve anything you want. The world is nothing but illusion. The illusion of negativity that tries to bring you down. Work with your brain, believe that you are capable, get rid of negativity. Be awesome.
The brain is the strangest, strongest organ in your body. In our body. Without it, we're practically not alive.
But then again so is the absence of ice creams.
So high, unreachable. And they are. You can be right in the middle of the Earth's atmosphere and you still can't touch the sky. Because the sky isn't real. It's just an illusion your brain makes. The sky is waves, long and short, and reflecting the sun's colour. Or so I heard. Your brain catches one short wave and that wave just happens to reflect the colour blue. That's why the sky is blue. In reality the sky is not blue. There isn't even any skies to begin with.
Think about it that way.
Your brain is what lets you see the blue in the sky. Your brain lets you see those white and grey fluffy things called clouds as whales, mermaids, cows, cheetahs, or even the back of a gigantic flying bird. Those stuff aren't real. They are merely illusions of your brain.
Think about the long, sharp, tinted equipment people use to write on paper. People call them pen. How do you know that it's a pen? Because it has been introduced to you before. You probably have used it before. You might even collecting some. The memory stored in your brain; the image, the feel, the experience of using one. Imagine if your brain malfunctioned. Your eyes can still see those things called pens but you will no longer be able to acknowledge it. You don't know what it is, you don't know what it is for, you don't know how to use it, you don't even know what's that thing doing in front of you. You see, but you don't translate the long, pointed, tinted equipment. Jesus, you might don't even know what does "long" means, let alone "equipment".
The brain is the strangest and strongest organ in your body. In our body. You might want to consider to call it even stronger than the heart because heart keeps your body alive but without your brain you can do nothing. The brain controls what you do, what you think, what you say, how you feel, how you touch, how you smell, how you move, how you live. If the brain is dead, you might still be able to see or hear or smell something but you wouldn't have a slightest idea of what it is because the brain translates everything around you, correlates them with a memory, thus resulting in the 'aha!' moment when you realise what you're smelling is actually a grilled cheese or that song you heard in the distance is Carly Rae Jepsen's I Really Like You or the movie you accidentally saw the trailer was Frozen Fever trailer.
Now, knowing that you are considerably useless without your brain, think about this: the brain is the strongest organ in your body, and you can also make the strongest out of yourself with the help of your brain. You can be faster, quicker, smarter, wittier, cooler, hotter, geniuser, player, sober, refrigerater, I'm just making up words that ends with -er. The key is to make your brain works for you, or if you like it smoother, with you. Your brain might be the strongest organ but your mind is weak. Your mind will likely give up before you actually reach your limit. So make your brain works for you, your mind works for you, and you will likely achieve anything you want. You want to date Jennifer Lawrence? Go ahead. Make yourself believe that you can and when you go into the fields full of bloodbathing boys and girls who also have the same goal as you, join the party. Kill people - NOT literally. Kick left, punch right. Go for Jennifer. Go for those beautiful curvy ten hamburger a day eating legs. DO NOT ever think midfight "nah fuck it man i'm gonna die" because you know what's going to happen next? You'll die. Believe that you can before you start, believe that you can on progress, know that you can when you kiss Jennifer Lawrence and pass that kiss among us the common people who can only admire her nose. But seriously though, her nose is perfection.
Now you got it. Your brain is amazing and so are you. Make your brain works for you, with you, and you can achieve anything you want. The world is nothing but illusion. The illusion of negativity that tries to bring you down. Work with your brain, believe that you are capable, get rid of negativity. Be awesome.
The brain is the strangest, strongest organ in your body. In our body. Without it, we're practically not alive.
But then again so is the absence of ice creams.
Why I Hate Mainstream Stuff
Call me a hipster, call me a n00b. But I don't like - if not hate - anything that is mainstream. My reason isn't because I'm trying to be cool or trying to stand out or just being that snob that desperately wants to be admitted that they're different. I know that I'm cool and I know that I'm standing out and I know that I am different so those reasons just don't apply to me.
My reason why I extremely dislike anything that is mainstream is because they are often exaggerated. When something becomes mainstream it means it becomes popular; many people acknowledge it and while it is a good thing, whether it's a song, book, movie, or whatever, once people begin to talk about it like it's the only thing that currently matters in a pop culture I'd just rather mutilate an arm like that dude on 127 Hours.
No, seriously.
Do you know the Divergent series by Veronica Roth? I loved that series. I loved it. Then they just had to make a movie out of it and cast some pretty fucking good looking actors and actresses for it and occasionally ruin the book for me. Now everyone's pretty much all like "omg shaiiii" "theo marry me plx" "sheo otp" with bunch of shitty emojis (now I call them shitty just because my Blackberry doesn't support them lol face). Now everyone talks about Divergent and Insurgent and the amount of those seasonal fanboys and fangirls just enough to make me puke. Why seasonal? Because they aren't really a fan of the series. They're just following what's up with the trends and trying to be all updated and shit and it's not a bad thing. Knowing and diving into the pop culture isn't a wrong thing to do. It's just that I'm a sensitive ass hippie bitch that if everyone goes on the same way I run fast as hell towards the other direction.
Things are just so much exaggerated when they are mainstream. And the exaggeration is just such a turn off for me that they ruin the thing. I used to be all like omg guys I'm reading this sooo amazing series called Divergent by Veronica Roth and it's about people who are divided into their way of thinking but the protagonist fits not only into two categories but THREE and it's just crazy now she's against the corrupt scientist of Erudite. But now that Divergent has gone mainstream whenever I hear someone talks about it in such a manner of listen-to-me-i-know-everything-about-the-divergent-world-because-i'm-a-fan-of-it-even-though-i-only-read-it-after-the-movie-and-still-haven't-finish-the-first-book-after-eight-months-of-reading I just go all like ew.
Call me a hipster, call me a n00b. But I am disgusted by mainstream stuff and those things you know when they're mainstream either I already know before they went mainstream or I'll wait until the hype is gone before I check the stuff out. If you're into mainstream stuff, go for it. I just don't. This is just my thought.
My reason why I extremely dislike anything that is mainstream is because they are often exaggerated. When something becomes mainstream it means it becomes popular; many people acknowledge it and while it is a good thing, whether it's a song, book, movie, or whatever, once people begin to talk about it like it's the only thing that currently matters in a pop culture I'd just rather mutilate an arm like that dude on 127 Hours.
No, seriously.
Do you know the Divergent series by Veronica Roth? I loved that series. I loved it. Then they just had to make a movie out of it and cast some pretty fucking good looking actors and actresses for it and occasionally ruin the book for me. Now everyone's pretty much all like "omg shaiiii" "theo marry me plx" "sheo otp" with bunch of shitty emojis (now I call them shitty just because my Blackberry doesn't support them lol face). Now everyone talks about Divergent and Insurgent and the amount of those seasonal fanboys and fangirls just enough to make me puke. Why seasonal? Because they aren't really a fan of the series. They're just following what's up with the trends and trying to be all updated and shit and it's not a bad thing. Knowing and diving into the pop culture isn't a wrong thing to do. It's just that I'm a sensitive ass hippie bitch that if everyone goes on the same way I run fast as hell towards the other direction.
Things are just so much exaggerated when they are mainstream. And the exaggeration is just such a turn off for me that they ruin the thing. I used to be all like omg guys I'm reading this sooo amazing series called Divergent by Veronica Roth and it's about people who are divided into their way of thinking but the protagonist fits not only into two categories but THREE and it's just crazy now she's against the corrupt scientist of Erudite. But now that Divergent has gone mainstream whenever I hear someone talks about it in such a manner of listen-to-me-i-know-everything-about-the-divergent-world-because-i'm-a-fan-of-it-even-though-i-only-read-it-after-the-movie-and-still-haven't-finish-the-first-book-after-eight-months-of-reading I just go all like ew.
Call me a hipster, call me a n00b. But I am disgusted by mainstream stuff and those things you know when they're mainstream either I already know before they went mainstream or I'll wait until the hype is gone before I check the stuff out. If you're into mainstream stuff, go for it. I just don't. This is just my thought.
I expect you have noticed my change in theme.
While it is true that I've been doing yoga as a workout lately, no, I don't think that this blog will suddenly become something with some inspiring and deep thoughts written on it. This blog will always and forever be... my blog. And that is where I post about my opinions and everything. But the colour blue does soothes me somehow. It's like I can just stare at my blog's theme all day and never get bored.
I'm just kidding. I probably won't last a minute.
But anyway.
As I sit here typing this, listening to The Hush Sound's 2008 album I just want to say that I think I am experiencing what they call the mid-life crisis. Only that I experience it in teen age. I sure hope that this means I won't experience it again later (although according to my mother this is very likely to happen).
Well, okay, maybe it's not really a mid-teenage-life crisis, maybe it is. I don't know. All I know is that lately I've been losing my way and I don't know what I need what I should do. But I don't feel like something is amiss and that scares me. That feeling, of not doing something yet don't feel like anything's wrong, is terrifying. There is nothing scarier than settling in on mediocrity except maybe horror movies. I haven't done anything that really "touches" my soul lately. No, I don't write. My journals filled with boring intercourse with other human being or a one shot giggle I don't even remember now. The only thing that amazes me is a dream last night I had about running down the hill and facing a giant full moon. And by giant, I mean GIGANTIC. You know those photos where they show you how other planets such as Jupiter and/or Neptune would look like if they were as close as the moon to the earth? That's how big the full moon in my dream was. Then I woke up, went outside to enjoy the West sky as the sun approaching and there it is. The full moon. It was not gigantic, but it still look pretty big hanging on that wide blue thing.
Other than that, it's just school, sleep, trying to find something to eat, homework, and other stuff. I tried to lighten up my mood by changing my blog's theme, to pump my spirit like it worked last time but so far, nothing. Alas, I'm drowning in this somewhat feel like a meaningless existence and the amount of time I'm trying to figure out how do I put some more meaning into it is just stunning. I don't know what else should I do and this is killing me slowly.
And my incapability of transferring my thoughts into words is even more maddening.
I'm thinking about getting a new piercing or I don't know, just something. Something new. Something that will awaken me because so far this year,
I don't think I have lived.
While it is true that I've been doing yoga as a workout lately, no, I don't think that this blog will suddenly become something with some inspiring and deep thoughts written on it. This blog will always and forever be... my blog. And that is where I post about my opinions and everything. But the colour blue does soothes me somehow. It's like I can just stare at my blog's theme all day and never get bored.
I'm just kidding. I probably won't last a minute.
But anyway.
As I sit here typing this, listening to The Hush Sound's 2008 album I just want to say that I think I am experiencing what they call the mid-life crisis. Only that I experience it in teen age. I sure hope that this means I won't experience it again later (although according to my mother this is very likely to happen).
Well, okay, maybe it's not really a mid-teenage-life crisis, maybe it is. I don't know. All I know is that lately I've been losing my way and I don't know what I need what I should do. But I don't feel like something is amiss and that scares me. That feeling, of not doing something yet don't feel like anything's wrong, is terrifying. There is nothing scarier than settling in on mediocrity except maybe horror movies. I haven't done anything that really "touches" my soul lately. No, I don't write. My journals filled with boring intercourse with other human being or a one shot giggle I don't even remember now. The only thing that amazes me is a dream last night I had about running down the hill and facing a giant full moon. And by giant, I mean GIGANTIC. You know those photos where they show you how other planets such as Jupiter and/or Neptune would look like if they were as close as the moon to the earth? That's how big the full moon in my dream was. Then I woke up, went outside to enjoy the West sky as the sun approaching and there it is. The full moon. It was not gigantic, but it still look pretty big hanging on that wide blue thing.
Other than that, it's just school, sleep, trying to find something to eat, homework, and other stuff. I tried to lighten up my mood by changing my blog's theme, to pump my spirit like it worked last time but so far, nothing. Alas, I'm drowning in this somewhat feel like a meaningless existence and the amount of time I'm trying to figure out how do I put some more meaning into it is just stunning. I don't know what else should I do and this is killing me slowly.
And my incapability of transferring my thoughts into words is even more maddening.
I'm thinking about getting a new piercing or I don't know, just something. Something new. Something that will awaken me because so far this year,
I don't think I have lived.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)