September 20, 2015

Bloom

Last year of school.

Huh.

Am I supposed to be ecstatic for the unforeseeable (read: much-anticipated) future or am I supposed to have a major freak-out because I am this close to leaving school and going on my own venture? (Just kidding, I am not even halfway through the first semester.)

As much as I would love to ditch all the endless homework, projects, and exams, I suppose it is not possible for us students to truly leave all the fun we have had the joy/tears experiencing throughout our school years.

How many times have we heard or seen adults talk about their school days with nostalgia and tell us to cherish our very own school years afterwards as we will miss them as soon as adulthood takes over? 

That question was meant to be a rhetoric, by the way.

But then again, the outside world is so exciting, so tempting, fifteen years of seemingly endless routine all revolving around the same school (at least for me) and more-or-less the same subjects, and I finally get to go out there and do what I want without the constants pressure of keeping up with my grades restraining me. However, new responsibility awaits. And that is scary as hell.

Conclusion is, it feels like an in-between situation for now. I have not taken my pick so the combo of anticipation and anxiety actually yields something that is similar to an adrenaline rush. 

Ah, might as well go with it while it lasts.

I'm wearing:
Cotton On's leather snapback and denim jacket
TOPTEN's denim dress
Dr Martens' boots

XX.









June 16, 2015

1 A.M. Thought.

Well, it's about 1 A.M. in the morning. What am I doing up this late? My parents would kill me if they found out, but whatever.

I have been feeling sad these past few days. Maybe even weeks. It is an unidentified sort of sadness. Like, a weird hollowness that bores your heart, out of nowhere, out of no particular reason. It does not come with a warning, it does not leave right away when you ask it to do so, and I do not like it. No, I hate it. I hate how I cannot control it like other emotions. I hate how I cannot tame it when I claim to be so good at self-control. I hate how it is messing with me, or rather, my idea of life.

It mostly comes at night. When the sheer darkness blinds my eyes and the loud silence deafens my ears (ooh, poetic, am I now?). But it also comes in waves during the day with tints of emotionally wrecking topics or songs being the triggers. I am not a vulnerable person. I do not want to be one. I hate how I am one.

This is not a heartbreak. This is not that kind of sadness you get after watching dramas on your laptop at midnight, not that kind of sadness you get while listening to break-up songs that remind you of things you have been trying hard to forget. No. It is somewhat... melancholic. Sad how the word is overused by angsty teenagers. And I do realize that I am being one right now, but I am pretty sure I am not using the word nonchalantly. I suppose, I am having a better understanding of the word. I shall be proud.

You know how people say crying will make you feel better? It is true. And I crave for that ephemeral relief you get from crying right now, but I cannot bring myself to do that because I feel like it is not worth it. I refuse to cry for nothing. I refuse to cry for this strange emotion I still cannot quite put my finger on just yet. Sure, I cry a lot, I am an extremely sensitive person when it comes to moving movies or stories. But this. Not this. It is a shame to cry over this. Or it is just me who feels that having even the slightest emotion for real life situation is stupid?

I used to think of people who go to sleep just to forget a problem as pathetic. I used to believe that when you have a problem, you have to face it head-on, no backing down. Gosh, I was so idealistic back then, so naive. If my friends read this, they will say, "I told you so," because I was that person who thought of the world in her own plain view, so hardheaded when challenged, thinking she was just being realistic for always taking her impossibly simple and unemotional stance. Too simple. Way too simple that mindset, now that I think about it. But heck, I would love to go back to being that person. I still am, in a way, despite the constant shift.

I hope I can reach out to someone who can relate to this and talk about it. Real, deep talk. Cause maybe it is the loneliness that is the core of my seemingly problematic emotion. Maybe it is that certain thing I would hate to admit. Maybe it is nothing at all. I do not wanna know for now.

Good night. Good morning. Whichever you like.

March 18, 2015

As It Was

Hello there.

I have deleted - no, moved - all my previous posts to the Draft section as I felt like it's necessary to start fresh now that I have some spare time to update this blog. But the main reason I moved all 30+ posts is because my previous posts are pure embarrassment to the blogosphere. Adios childish scribbles of the old Carmen.

And uh, aside from the fact that all my writings are in dire need of rewriting due to their overuse of slangs and - basically all the features a writing should not possess - I have been thinking a lot about changing my blog's concept. This blog was originally a personal style blog, but it got pretty dull, therefore, expect some random stuff in the future.

...

Yes, some of my (imaginary) readers must have gotten tired of hearing this as I have mentioned it a lot in passing. Well, I am doing it for real this time, at least give me some credits? 

Another reason I got back is because I had the urge to write these few days, so I decided to revive this long-abandoned blog (apart from working on a story with Ophelia).

Anyways, here are some pictures I took with my cousins during Chinese New Year. It was random and spontaneous, but it was fun. Consider it an outfit post?

I was wearing:
Giordano's jeans
Charles and Keith's loafers
The rest of the outfit are either unbranded or gifts.

Laters!

Pictures by: Carmen, Veronica, Kenneth, and Bobby.