this semester is coming to an end. god it's hell of a semester. but i'm happy that it gets better & less miserable. it's nt easy trying to lead both lives u know. like every quarter a yr u have to press a pause button and change immediately. and at many times when u leave, things cont to change, it's nt like u can pick things up where u left off. That is what blows me off, it gets so tiring to hear pple say that 'oh i forgot to tell u..', e worst is that they forgot what they forgot to tell u and u just feel so left out. i mean i'm trying to be all over the place, but i can't be?

anw for this sem i begin to like more things. i made my 1st aussie fren, Lauren, she's really nice, from my management class. i like her and we would talk more than 'how're u?' or 'how's ur weekend?' yep.. and i love wednesdays. i feel rejuvenated after every wed 'cos it is the 'eye-candies' day as well as 'criminology day'! i love my crim tutor, she's absolutely e coolest person i've ever known. I just hope like things dun break off after one sem, i mean chances of me seeing the same pple are like a needle in a haystack. tt's depressing =( my life is in so many pieces, and i just feel so lost. boo. i want somebody. no, not u.

The Gendered Self.

every single human being long for the same things - to be loved and accepted for who he/she is.

it is a simple wish, but seldom granted. It's not easy having to pretend being someone else but yourself all the time. Sometimes you wear your mask for too long till you forget who you are underneath it, and that's when you lose it all. You may be labelled a deviant if you step out, but at least you know you have what others don't have; that is courage and a sense of self. Everyone is beautiful the way they are, not who they try to be.


leaning on the snack bar counter
I kick the white cardboard box at my feet
to make sure its still there
inside is a snappy $8 ski type jacket...
I'm going to take 10 mins to gloat over
being able to get my hands on
such a desirable dyke item
I'm going to wear it with satisfaction
fighting off my fears of
looking tough and ugly
enjoying my toughness
building on it nt denying it
and if necessary enjoying my ugliness
affirming that too...
will i look like a little boy now
or a little girl
or will i finally look like myself
in my particular combination of
the clothes i want
wonder if there's a way to look feminine
in this jacket after all.

Fran Winant (1976) describes her desparation to achieve a butch image that will be acceptable to her friends, yet w/o sacrificing her sense of herself as an attractive person.

i feel like a mean bitch now. going back on my words is so totally not me, but when pple are xtremely nice to me (n i think they deserve to b treated juz as nicely in return) i feel obligated to be nice to them. And if u know me, i have a problem w being frank cos i dun wanna hurt pple and i know that nobody really like to hear things that aren't nice. oh well but it feels a lot better after saying how u really feel u know. and for me i'd rather hear e truth (although it fucking hurts sometimes) than lies cos when u know that what u have been believing in was all a lie, the world juz crashes and suddenly everything seems meaningless.

n u know i really have been thinking these days. i take failures very hard, each one of them is like a tattoo on me. they remind me of the hurt each time i look at myself in the reflection and i can't forget them no matter how hard i try to cos somehow they still get to me. like now when i think of my failure to get tkd black belt, i would get so angry at myself all over again for not doing well enough, for letting my injury get to me, for giving myself excuses to give up and so on. there is no end to blaming myself, but i realise that it gets me nowhere but misery. this might sound clichéd but what happened has alr happened, no point dwelling over it cos it doesn't change things. what u can do is carry ur lesson forward n nt make e same mistake. we constantly live our past bcos our experiences alter our behaviour and perception but it is painful to live w/o faith n hope. if we can choose to lead a happy life, y not? u can choose wat u want to take w u so y not juz tk e gd times? this sounds like utmost stupid but sometimes Man r such stupid creatures. sometimes the simplest solns r rite in front of u but u refuse to c it? oh well beter late than never..

dun look back in anger

i haven't been feeling well, just so alone. cold and unloved, as if i'm cut off from e rest of the world. from all the pple i love, from all the pple tt i know. what breaks my heart most is that e pple i love forget abt me or have alr left me. if u tell me u can't tk e distance, e internet n phone is just nt enough. n do u think it's enough for me? if u were to have only 1 long-d relationship w someone u love, then what abt me? i have no choice but tk all the relationships across e distance, i dun ever think u can imagine how tt feels. n when all of them start to drift away from me, the strumming of pain in my heart resonates.

ya sure it's easy to say go to a new place n make new frens. maybe it's easier if everyone's younger cos as pple grow older, they tend to be more selfish. nobody is gonna give 10 sec to think abt u, much less care abt how ur feeling. i'm nt trying to dwell on my misery, but i can't seem to get a grip. i can't find anything to hold on to, anyone that understands what i'm going thru or how i am feeling. it's like i've been banished into a cold dark dungeon, where i could c no light n feel no warmth; n no one's just coming to my rescue. it's like i'm forgotten, like i din exist.

i drag myself up to bed every morning, n watch time pass me by w/o any sympathy. life has become an obligation, like the trees in autumn. the fact that i can't get outta this dungeon extinguishes all my hopes, it kills me n i just can't stand living in so much pain. n the ultimate torture is knowing that someone u really loved has changed into someone so cold. it's like a tragedy that happened right before u & u can't stop or avoid it, n things will nv be e same again.

An innocent child w bright eyes and full of smiles, full of hope of what tmr may bring. But as she grew up, the smiles faded away, replaced by a constantly washed-out face. The sparks in her eyes mellowed out, often dazed in melancholy.

She realised the world just wasn't as beautiful as she thought, instead it was as cold and harsh like the November wind. She didn't understand why some things happened, no one explained to her. But she couldn't get over them, so she packed them along in her luggage to wherever she goes hoping that someone could give her the answers to those questions.

Everyone thought she was strong and tough, and there was nth that could take her down. But in reality, she cries behind those closed doors when she takes off those masks. She doesn't know how to deal with her emotions and nobody saw her drown. The anger and frustrations mount inside of her, building up walls around her and cutting her off from others. She couldn't forgive herself, was she not good enough? was it her fault? wat did she do to deserve it?

Each time she manages to muster the courage to attempt to climb over those walls, someone pushes her back. Every rejection cost her faith, bcos she tried her best. It was like waves of calamities sweeping over an island that destroyed everything the civilians have built in a snap. All the effort put in was gone in a flash without any warnings. Was it fair at all? But who was to blame?

She clings on desparately to whatever she is left with, not knowing where to start mending, or how long it is going to take to re-build what was destroyed. But she knows she can't allow anyone to take anything from her and she couldn't rely on anyone no more. Thieves are everywhere. Cold, stolen and naked, she hid in a dark corner behind those walls once again and rested her head on her hands. She doesn't know how long she could hold on for in this dangerous world; where she could be free from harm.