Post Christmas

Sooo what did I get for Christmas- apart from the usual stress of the season and the depressive bouts that accompany it, I had decent presents this year. I got a pair of boots which were kind of cool, and everything else I wanted for Christmas, I bought myself.

...Well I guess Christmas started early for me, since I went on a shopping frenzy since I returned from UK. Around 400 total spent on clothes, shoes, belts, sunglasses, books, games, a new ext hard drive, and a new bag. Aaaand there's another pair of shoes I want to buy next week... my wallet has severely deflated but it's bought me a fair amount of happiness.

I was speaking with my best friend about how I'd become increasingly self- conscious, and I practically have a new wardrobe now. I actually don't mind the fact that I have a lot of clothes- it doesn't feel that way because there's so much stuff that I just wouldn't wear these days.

Then the joy of material happiness ended and I discovered by chance my father had a gambling problem. It almost explains his shittiness as a person. Yeah I can imagine, the stress of losing money, then getting all hopeful, taking out loans because you'll "make it all back in time". Then when it doesn't work out, the natural solution is to throw a hissy fit about how your family just doesn't get you and is unsupportive.

And it's like, why the fuck would we support a gambling addiction. Really.

Then he starts telling me off for not studying enough, not investing my money, not caring about the financial world etc etc. Like, I was decent at maths but I'm not exactly in a finance degree right now, and the only way to invest money is to fking HAVE money in the first place.

Anyway my future is doom and gloom atm- I've originally resigned myself to supporting my parents through retirement, but the prospect of having to pay back his gambling debt makes me want to vomit. I feel so fucking sick right now and it's like, holy fuck I haven't even made any money and somebody else has decided to spend it for me.

I don't even know what to do right now, it's like, hooooly fuck what a mess. I hope I figure something out before life goes to shit, but again I'm at the whole "I can't even take care of myself properly how do I do I take care of other people".

Life is hard. Life is so goddamn hard.

Christmas Morning

We're about to leave the house for some sort of Asian picnic thing, except it's nearing 40 degrees outside and none of it sounds appealing to me, at all. I think I should bring a book to read, at least, and headphones to be on the safe side.

I don't know why but my parents told my sister that presents are only opened on Boxing Day...??? I mean, unwrapping gifts is like, half the joy of Christmas. Maybe they wanted to teach her "the virtue of patience" or some shit, but I feel like it's a bad time for a moral lesson.

Anyway I hope it rains later, because it's hot outside and I don't like temperatures above 26 degrees Celsius.

Seasonal Depression

It seems around every Christmas my life starts falling to shits. Well, figuratively. Nothing is wrong, per se, but I just FEEL wrong. At work (yeah I'm working again, to try and pay off what I call my "gaming debt"), I lied to my boss to cover for a friend, and apparently I got into deep shit. Basically I only have 1 shift next week and it's like, on a day that's not a weekend and not the public holiday, so I don't get extra rates. I guess it's pretty much my fault and I shouldn't be annoyed but I kind of am. Ergh, I was complaining about work taking up my life, but now that I get 1 shift I'm complaining about that as well.

It's like I can't be pleased.

Then, with friends... I don't know, my friends are mostly okay except mostly not. I've found out that everyone over the past year seems to have had mood problems and been involved with getting counselling in one form or another. Well, that's not the bad thing, the bad thing is realizing "wow fucking everyone gets depressed, it's not just me."

Well for me right now it's not so much depression as hyper-irritability. I had laryngitis for a week, and I mean, apart from the constant sputum production and sore throat, it wasn't too bad considering my raspy voice was sexy as fuck. But it's made work hard, and work... has been fine,  I guess, but it's totally one of those "if I had money I wouldn't be at this job" scenarios. Well it's mundane for me to put it that way, since I'm sure that'd apply to most people.

Christmas shopping at least has been all done. I've been doing this really cruel thing where I get my family Christmas presents, except I get my father the cheapest, "tolerable" thing I can find, and I spend hundreds on my mother. I don't think I get much joy out of hurting his feelings or seeing the disappointment in his face, so I don't know why I'm doing this. It's so fucking petty for me to be constructing psychological attacks and using Christmas as a chance to be passive-aggressive.

When I don't like someone, I do bad things. I'm just terrible sometimes.

Actually my relationship with my parents has been really tense. Well, when was it ever not tense, right (hah). I just often find myself asking the question, "if my parents found out I killed myself, would they be sad or would they be disappointed". Well, in truth it'd probably be both, right. I'd like to think they're human and have SOME emotional attachment to me. But the possibility that they might be disappointed more than they were sad really hurts me in a strange way; after all, I've always suspected that they never saw me as a person, rather a valuable investment.

Then because I think of that, I say things on purpose to prod and provoke them. Such as, "I'll never find happiness going to med school and being a doctor" (a complete lie, there is plenty of satisfaction to be found already), and "I'm sad so I don't want to work very hard, I think I'll fail next semester" (not that much of a lie, my scores are atrocious). After that there's the "how would you feel if I dropped out of med school", and today, before dinner I said, "what if I finished med school but didn't become a doctor, and went and did what I wanted instead'.

I noticed both my parents tense up, were silent for a moment, before carefully constructing the words, "well, it's your life at that point". I didn't reply, and I could tell they became increasingly anxious:
-"what would you do instead?"
-"are you really going to just waste all that time?"
-"well you'd HAVE to do your internship regardless" (no lol, I can just get my degree and call it quits)
-"it's not like you can just find a job"

I didn't even say anything through all that, they sort of built themselves up and the situation diffused over dinner. Being overly-sensitive in a useless kind of way, I became kind of cut over how they reacted anyway. It's not like I didn't know they'd respond that way, it's just this masochistic thing I do, where I prompt them to say shitty things which makes me feel shit. It's almost like... a part of me believes if I do this to myself enough, I'll become desensitized to it all, and maybe I won't give a shit in the end?

I do dream of a day where I drop all my baggage and just GO. Go where ever, but just LEAVE. Every year I'm sort of closer to that, and when I move out it actually feels great. I don't like being alone and I don't like being isolated, but it's true that I'd rather be alone than be with my parents... but that in turn makes me feel more abandoned than anything else. Pretty sure at some point I said I'd rather be an orphan... but I still come to the conclusion that, well, being an orphan would be shit, what I really mean is "I want better parents".

...I guess they're not like... terrible, abusive people. I'm just a massive fucking disappointment, the-child-that-was-wanted-until-they-were-born, and it's hard to swallow down the fact that I'll be an eternal disappointment to my parents even though I'm like, doing what they want me to do and I used to think so highly of myself...

Then the people who raised you... you wanna like them or whatever but to them you're forever "not-as-good-as-that-other-kid" and how the fuck can I like people who CAN'T be satisfied with who I am?

/rant

Devil Survivor 2: Record Breaker

Remember how a few years ago, I went crazy playing Devil Survivor 2, like it was the game of my life? Well uh, guess what, they made a 3DS version of it, and because the EU version was released like, end of October when I was overseas, I got my hands on it only about a week ago. I spent like, $60 for the game, which even I think is crazy, but heyyyy it's like one of my fav games ever and I played the original game through 4 times.

So basically that's been the past week of my life. I wake, I play Devil Survivor, it's 4am, I go to sleep, and repeat. Hooooly shit it was exhausting. It was like I was actually fighting demons IRL or something... the story has been exactly the same as the original thus far... I wasn't disappointed though- after all, I'd lost my original save file, and all I have now is this 3DS copy. I needed to rediscover the nostalgia anyway... what made me play the original FOUR times.

As I played through, I realized something- I never actually chose the ending of my favorite character, Yamato Hotsuin. So I basically see him as a giant tsundere (except not really), but yeah he basically comes across as a complete ass--- but what's beautiful in the game is that you can change him as a character. Truly, the character development is CRAZY. You can basically put an end to his sacrificial tendencies (like, he sacrifices civilians, his friends, himself) and "save him" in a sense.

The game posed some interesting questions which got too philosophical for me too quickly. Basically my favorite character, Yamato, wanted a meritocracy, and his opponent Ronaldo wanted an egalitarian system. As the main character, I could choose who to follow, and of all the endings I've played, never have I sided with either side. Even if it's just a game, and I should be obsessed with getting all the endings- I guess I just hated Ronaldo because his whole scheme reminded me of communism, and as for Yamato... yeah it's a wonder I never played the path of my favorite character until now.

Anyway, playing through his story line it basically broke my heart and my feels scattered all over the floor at 4am. Throughout the game he keeps on referring to me as his "pawn" but towards the end he's all "you're my sworn friend because you're the only one who understands me", and I'm just twiddling with my 3DS sheepishly thinking "I don't actually agree with you, I just like you". I'd like to think, if I actually existed in that world, I'd be brave enough to push for my own ideals, but obviously under game scenarios I make terrible choices.

You probably have no idea what I'm ranting on about... if you ever watched the anime Devil Survivor 2... I'm telling you now, the anime is shit. The game went into so much depth about the world crumbling beside you, and I really felt desperate in some scenes, despite it just being a game. The characters had so much background and story... the anime didn't do anything justice and just tried shipping the main character with Yamato to satisfy the fangirls. I mean, I DO appreciate fanservice except in the anime it was just REALLY poorly done. It was like the main character was just a chick magnet and Yamato was a chick--- like, their relationship made no fucking sense, whereas in the game it's like, backstory! character development! logic!

Now I'm playing the new, added story line that only exists on the 3DS port. If you have a 3DS, this game's REALLY worth getting. Game play isn't as exciting as The World Ends With You (I've yet to find a game which tops that) but it's decent and makes me think (sometimes). You can't really one-shot everything (at least not on your first run through), and apocalypse mode was actually kinda hard and I had to use strategy (gasp) to beat some bosses.

Aaaanyway, great game, worth my $60, and I'd happily play this game through multiple times (again). Don't judge the game by its anime, ok? ...I mean the game totally came out first and the low budget 13 or 12 ep anime was just the biggest injustice.

Time in London

So I actually just got back from London- I forgot to blog for many days due to 1. having too much fun in London, 2. actually travelling and 3. recovering from severe jet-lag.

I stayed at a place near Brunswick square- London is the most convenient city I've ever been to. Busy, for sure, but the tube is like one of my favorite things ever. Every 3 minutes, fast, takes me all over the city. I guess it's somewhat expensive, but travel is capped at 7 pounds a day I think, which isn't all that bad in the end. I basically ate food, visited tourist attractions, and exhausted myself every night.

First day in London:
I packed up everything from my room, and caught a midday train to leave the small miserable English town I was in, I struggled to drag my luggage along for a mere 12min walk from St Pancras, before I arrived at my London address. It was a small room, but I didn't mind because it was cozy, the heating was on point and I could wander around in a tshirt indoors despite it being London winter. Rested for a bit, because I didn't know where to go/ how to kill time, so I just enjoyed having fast WiFi and wasted time on my laptop until it was around dinner time. Took the tube for the first time, and decided, "ah, you haven't really experienced London until you've walked the underground which smells like piss and had the pleasure of being squished flat by other commuters on the tube". I mean, it was probably because I traveled at peak hour, but I fully understood why the service ran every 3min, from the sheer volume of people I saw. I had dinner at Flat Iron, which is a steak house that gives you a small cleaver as a knife. I thought it was kind of novel. The steak tasted okay- I finally learnt and asked for medium rare- what came was what I would describe as "medium", but I won't complain. Turns out you should never ask for steak "well done" because what turns up is basically just charred-meat/ash. Then in the evening I went to see Phantom of the Opera--- I've actually never seen it before, and it was a great experience. I have the song "Think of Me" stuck in my head, but heyyy it was a pleasant experience and I'd say it was worth my money. Musical finished at around 9, I went home and went to bed after.

2nd day in London:
I decided I'd go to Madame Tussaud's- that really famous wax museum, where they make people out of wax and it looks real. I didn't buy my tickets beforehand and I probably stood in line for 2hrs. I guess I should've known better- it was a Sunday after all. So yeah that was fucking dumb, but when I got inside it was good again. I was more amused than I thought I'd be, given that they were just figurines of famous people--- but I enjoyed taking selfies and whatnot. Actually I mostly asked random people to take my photo for me, because I didn't want every picture to be a selfie and look like a total loser. I have a souvenir photo from the James Bond display- I figure it's the closest I'll ever get to Daniel Craig. I don't know if I regret not having another souvenir photo taken for the One Direction display though--- but everything's calculated in pounds so it's probably a good thing that I didn't go overboard. I mean, I don't even like One Direction, I just thought it'd be funny.

When I got out of Madame Tussaud's it was like 2pm, and I didn't have much time before it'd get dark. Fuck London winters, man. They're the worst. I walked down the street and visited the Sherlock Holmes museum. It was on--- yup, Baker st. I couldn't resist buying a couple of souvenirs- I liked the TV show Sherlock, at least. The museum itself was kind of boring- but they put a lot of detail in to recreate the kind of home Sherlock would have had, and effort was taken to place things in the places as they were described in the novels. I don't regret visiting though- it's one of those things you should do if you've made it as far as Baker st. It was darkish when I came out, so I took the tube back to Brunswick square and had dinner at the Hare and Tortoise. Nice restaurant, I like their laksa curry (well some review on Google said it was good so I ordered).

3rd day in London - well, it was really Oxford.
I went to Oxford on my 3rd day, travelling from London. I got there and it was miserable and cold and I regretted life. I had gloves luckily, and that made it better but not really. I picked up two souvenir Oxford tshirts for 15 pounds because there was a sale on, and around 15 postcards. I spent like an hour writing out postcards and I was soooo relieved when I finished that task. Visited some colleges (can't even remember which one), took a long walk in one of the gardens in the colleges- they have these nice modern buildings inside as well, and I was thinking I wouldn't mind being there if I studied at Oxford. I gotta say, I liked Cambridge better (I don't know why). Ended up at the natural history museum, looked at some dinosaurs, and I spent a great deal of time working out whether the human skulls displayed were male or female because I recently learnt how to distinguish them. I came out, it was dark, and I got lost. Decided not to have dinner in Oxford, went back to London early, and I have no memory what I did for the rest of the night. I think I was just tired- but I can't even remember whether I ate dinner or not (I don't think I did- I got into this terrible habit of skipping dinner this year).

4th day (last day) of fun in London
I didn't want to do shit. I was tired from before, and actually I was tired from work building up from the week, except I didn't really rest and just traveled a lot. Except it was my last day, I was going to fly out 9am the next day, and there was all this touristy stuff I hadn't done. I went on Google maps, planned out a route for myself and off I went. Google Maps is the hero in my London journey, I swear. It has this function which plans your trip for you if you enter your starting location and destination- I used that soooo much, since I couldn't be bothered to plan everything out down to the minute. I started off at Buckingham Palace- walked there from the nearest station. There wasn't much to see, really. The weather was cloudy, looked like it could rain on my any minute. There was this really cool statue thing right outside the palace though, so I took a bunch of photos and I guess that was all I did.

Walked down the road to Westminster Abbey- I like the architecture. I would've liked to get closer but there was some event going on, people were crowding around, and everything was sort of fenced off. So I walked along to see Big Ben. Well, it's iconic and that was it. Was nice walking along the bridge and getting people to take photos of me though. The London Eye (big ferris wheel thing) was just on the other side. I wanted to ride on it- then on my way it started raining, so I went into the nearest building. Turned out to be the aquarium. That was the first time in I don't even know how long I've been in an aquarium, so I was like, "why not, it's raining outside anyway". Saw some sharks, saw some funny looking fish, and this REALLY cute crocodile.

How fucking cute is that

Then it was feeding time for the stingrays- the aquarium workers gave out cups with bits of seafood that you chuck in. The stingrays seemed kind of chill, just lying on the sand, but this bitch of a stingray decided to bounce up and flap its wings (idk if you call it wings) and splash water at me. Idk if it's trained to do that, and I certainly NEVER expected a stingray to be that theatrical. I mean, it was VERTICAL ffs, and it just decided to splash water over me. Actually it was kind of cute, but it'd be cuter if it didn't flip water at me. Luckily I didn't get wet.

Rain finally stopped after I left the aquarium. Went on the London Eye- good view, would be better with a partner or travel companion. 0/10 romance when you're travelling alone. I was amused for the first 5min and then I just ended up playing on my phone. I took some photos, sure, but that was about it. Didn't feel anything special. Probs because the sky was grey and everything looked miserable. Then as I crossed the bridge to go back, I saw that the clouds had cleared and the sky was a faint blue again--- so if I just waited like another 30min I could've taken way better photos. Oh well.

Had fish and chips for lunch- it tasted okay. I didn't finish eating though, because it was oily and I felt guilty about eating food. I'm like, on my way to anorexia or something. Good ol' weight-loss. Jokes, I'm going into this really body-conscious phase and next thing I'll be wanting is muscle tone and I suspect that I'll never be happy with myself. GG.

I legit can't remember what I did that afternoon. Maybe I just wasted more time on my laptop. I probably just took a break. I know I had to force myself to go out and get dinner, because I was so tired I just didn't want to move. I HAD to go out and eat though, because last night in London and I hadn't even tried all the nice food here. Apparently there's this really famous roast duck place called Gold Mine, but I was tossing up between going there and going to Burger & Lobster. Then I was like, I can get roast duck anywhere, and if I get Chinese food I'm going to want a soup and vegetables along with roast duck, the portions will be too big, my bill will be massive and dining alone just won't work out. Therefore I ended up at Burger & Lobster- had a steamed lobster- it was delicious but it tasted just like crab, so it wasn't that special to me. Had fries and salad on the side- finished all my food because I was semi-hungry and I was done with feeling guilty about eating. Also had champagne to go with my meal- bartender asked for my age but not my ID. I'm surprised she believed my word because I look like I'm 14. I guess 14 year olds don't just walk into restaurants on their own though. 

Because of that 1 alcoholic drink I had, I couldn't be fucked packing, and after my shower I just sat on my bed playing on my phone. That was a mistake, because when I woke at 5am (thx, alarm), I was sent into a packing frenzy, trying to stuff everything in. Luckily the station was close to my residence, and it took me straight to Heathrow airport. Made it for my flight, and slept on the plane.

In summary, London was great.

Of British Culture

So what have I learnt whilst I've been here? Not much, to be honest. I think everything's just similar to Australia, with slight differences. I have learnt, however, that Jeremy Corbyn is this weird guy who is really "out there" and the current leader of the left-wing party, but the conservatives are currently in power. Apparently he takes a bus everywhere and doesn't wear ties- and I know people who really love him, believing that he's the only politician who isn't corrupt to some degree.

That, and news that junior doctors are going on strike soon over here, because negotiations fell through with the government. Jeremy Hunt is the secretary of state for health, but apparently he's really unpopular, and I wonder how he's staying where he is. I swear every health professional (not just doctors, mind you) I've met has sort of sighed in an exasperated manner or rolled their eyes at the very mention of Jeremy Hunt, and I understand there's some sort of joke about a radio host calling him "Jeremy Cunt" on live radio a while ago. Apparently everyone finds it amusing--- so I guess he isn't that popular after all.

It's kind of great though, to live somewhere where you can make a super-crude joke about your secretary of state for health, and not get arrested or fined for it or some shit. After my recent trip to China I'm just like "holy hell help, I can't get used to all this freedom of speech and democracy". Also it baffles me that some people seem to view China as a communist utopia where everything is working perfectly- I never understood how people imagined communism would work in reality. Given the assumption of unlimited resources, maybe. Then if everybody was high on drugs or something, sure they'd buy into the "everyone's equal" thing. Otherwise, you can just sort of EXPECT the failure of the whole effort and watch it come undone at the seams.

Anyway I went to see an exhibition about Richard III yesterday--- that was actually really worthwhile. I am now THAT much more competent on the subject of English history- well, actually I was just incompetent before, and now I am slightly less so. I never watched or read the Shakespearean play, Richard III. I guess I'll have to now, now that I've gone to the exhibition about him. I thought it was kind of cool, but maybe history isn't something everyone finds fascinating.

Then I went out to dinner- Italian. Had garlic bread for starters, king prawn linguine for my main, tiramisu for dessert. Surprisingly enough it didn't cost me a fortune- I even had a drink because the pasta was so spicy. It tasted good though- I was bloated by the end of it. I never enjoyed Western food much, but I think I'm getting used to eating out now that I'm in the UK. Food is actually quite good- perhaps I was just too picky before.

Well it's half past 12 now and I should be asleep, but on the other hand I should really be packing. My room is still a disgraceful mess, and I don't know how I'm going to pull myself together by tomorrow. Oh well, good night for now.

I finished my stupid fucking report

3000 words of torture. The irony is, because I was trying to hit the word count, I went up to 3300, and was pleased with my skills in writing bullshit. Then my friend said, "hey, only the first 3000 words will be marked" and I was like "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK". Turns out my friend reads the unit outline which nobody ever reads, and it stated that the assignment could be anywhere between 2000-3000 words, with the recommendation that it is 2500-3000 words in length.

So I could've written like, 2000 words instead.

Which meant I could've been done last week, since I had 2000 words by last week.

And I'm really hating life right now.

I know it's technically my fault that I didn't read the unit outline, but nobody reads that shit (except for that wonderful friend of mine, who I am extremely glad to have). I had an assignment sheet which stated that I should write something ~3000 words, so I didn't think 3300 was overdoing it. Well at least cutting my paper down to the word limit was easy enough- I knew what I wrote was full of shit, so being able to delete 10-20 lines probably saved me a great deal of embarrassment in the end. All's well that ends well.

I'm actually just so happy right now. Like a great weight's been lifted off my shoulders. Not having this assignment loom above my head and threaten failing the course is actually just a really pleasant thing. Now I can plan for fun times in England and go travelling and enjoy the world etc.

Jks not really. Did you hear about what happened in Paris? Awful. And I'm actually super-paranoid about being in London, because I have this fear that I could just be hanging around, enjoying myself, doing touristy things, and BAM I get rekt by random acts of terrorism. I guess that's why it's called terrorism- it strikes terror in our hearts. I do not currently fear for my safety, since I'm stuck in a small town in whoop-whoop land, so it's not that great a target, but the fact that I'm thinking about things means our world has taken a very, very dark turn.

I am so fortunate to be where I am right now, and I'm actually so fucking lucky that I'm a total loser to spends his days browsing Reddit instead of "exploring the great world". I could've been in Paris myself, I could've traveled there while I was in England--- and it was actually part of my plan before I said I couldn't be fucked because "I have a report to write". Truth is I just procrastinate for a while, pray that my report writes itself, realize it's not going to happen, and then start typing random shit into a word document in hope that it will have some semblance of coherence.

So I should be grateful for my lazy, unmotivated personality, huh.

Great, thinking about what happened in Paris just dampened my mood. I'm going to bed and I'm going to wake up a happier person. Hopefully. I wish I lived in a more peaceful world, where people don't slaughter random civilians...

My Report is Killing Me

I have this 3000 word report to write before I finish school officially this year, so far my word count is at 2000 and I've just run out of motivation. I feel like every word I write is worthless and I'm just writing this assignment for the sake of writing. I really don't have 3000 worth of content to talk about, and I'm just writing in a really verbose way compared to my usual concise style. It makes me feel so obnoxious and I'm just fed up with it, actually.

I also find it ironic how I can just blog or whatever and it's all good, I can just write whatever comes to mind, but as soon as I switch tabs back into my word document I just wanna cry. I thought I'd get out for a bit today, to put myself in a better mood, but the good weather lasted like all of 3 hours before it became overly cloudy and it was like the sky just became sad. Well I actually loved the color of the grey-blue sky, and taking a leisurely walk with the cool wind brushing against my face- but my mood didn't actually get any better and I just felt really oppressed for some reason, like I was suffocating internally.

It might be because my cough won't go away and I have trouble breathing at times. I'm certainly coughing LESS now compared to before, and I've stopped popping pills like they're candy. I don't think it's my physical condition that's getting me down... I'm just hoping life gets infinitely better as soon as this report is done. Usually I procrastinate for ages and expect my report to just... well, write itself, but this time it hasn't actually written itself and I'm just feeling sad.

I might just be really homesick, I don't know.

My Tyyyype

So I'm still coughing my lungs out and there's so much sputum it's kind of disgusting. I've come to terms with "I probably have pneumonia" but I'm improving I swear! I really do feel like every day is better than the last so I still really don't want to go see a doctor. See I already have doctor-avoidance-syndrome and I'm only in my early twenties. Terrible, I know.

Anyway I saw this post on Reddit about what "type" of person I'm attracted to, so I thought I'd just blog about that. It can serve as sort of a giant "LOOKING FOR PARTNER" ad on the internet and whoever comes along and reads this, if they think they fit the criteria or something, then it's like woah maybe I'll find myself a date through blogger.

So if you're a girl, my "type" is this:
-Long hair, fair-skin, blonde or brunette, blue eyes. Size 10, wears Converse shoes and skinny jeans. Likes drinking tea and snuggling up to watch TV (some random British TV show like Dr Who or Sherlock or just some drama that I "totally don't get").
-Wastes time on Tumblr blogging about feminism or something along those lines, access to Tumblr via a Macbook. Then spends rest of her time on the internet looking at fashion blogs or online shopping for that "really cute jacket".
-Obsess about anime boys in her spare time, wants to tell me about her OTP NarutoXSasuke.
-Be quiet, be shy, then become animated and smile in this really gorgeous way when I ask her about her favorite song, then be all cutesy-embarrassed when I ask her if she plays an instrument and it turns out she's like grade 50 piano or something (yeah idk how piano grades work).
-Likes reading Jane Austen, cries while reading Tess of the d'Urbervilles, but doesn't go on about how "The Fault in Our Stars" is the most beautiful thing ever (please).
-Likes to bake- cakes, cookies or whatever. Makes pasta for dinner. Makes me a hot cup of milo or tea. Always ok with pizza or Chinese takeaway when we get lazy.

Well a girl like that would be waaaayyyy out of my league but she'd totally be my type. Alternatively you can just look really cute, speak very little and make me bentos for lunch or something. That's 100% waifu material right there and I'm fine with that too.

The truth is I'm actually much more attracted to guys. See I can't really remember the last time I had a crush on a girl (if ever... I mean, ok I've probs crushed before but it's not like my heart beat faster or anything). It's like my brain is wired to just find men more appealing overall- and really I've liked different kinds of people and the one thing they all have in common is probably the fact that they were all NICE to me at some stage. Yeah I'm actually just cheap and fucking desperate so if you show any sign that you might like me I jump on that shit like a dumbass dog pouncing on a steaming turd. I want to make it sound like I HAVE standards and preferences but at this point it's really just like, if you come up to me and say "hey wanna fuck" I'd probs be like "yeah but do you have AIDS".

Actually that's not how that was supposed to go, I don't know why I wrote that.

So if you're a guy, my "type" goes:
-Tall. Like, 180cm ish tall. Skinny- don't weigh less than me because you're 180cm ish and that'll really hurt my self-esteem if you weigh less than me, but 70kg sounds pretty healthy.
 -Be Asian. I have a thing for Asian guys. Or have blue eyes. I also have a fetish for blue eyes.
-Don't disapprove of my gaming habits, and don't suggest that I read the financial review when I'm busy slaughtering virtual monsters. I wouldn't even enjoy reading the financial review even if I wasn't busy slaughtering virtual monsters.
-Please cook. Or be rich. You're either cooking most meals or we're eating out/ buying cooked food most nights. Or don't cook and don't be rich. I'll be rich. You better be ok with me not-cooking and we're still going to eat out/buy cooked food most nights.You don't get to talk shit about how I can just buy some eggs and meat and vegetables from the supermarket and "just make stir fry and rice". Fuck that shit. You wanna talk like that then you fucking go and make me some "stir fry".
-Dress well in public. I don't mean wear a cravat and carry around a pocket watch, I mean iron your shirts and don't match shit like black pants with white socks and brown boat shoes.
-Be nice to me. Be shy and quiet (which I currently find really attractive) and be ok with me constantly trying to make conversation with you. Laugh at my shitty jokes which may or may not be in really poor taste. Or just smile in this really cute and affectionate way to let me know I'm loved.
-Always say good morning and good night.

See I think my standards changed waaaay too much. I remember once upon a time where I'd be like "yeah I wish my partner was suuuper hot, rich, spoke 5 different languages, has a PhD in something useful and played piano, guitar, and violin". Now I'm like "uhhh, PLEASE BE ATTRACTED TO ME, and cook sometimes maybe (...or just be ok with eating out...)?"

God I wish my latest crush wasn't married. Now I can't even fantasize about him because knowing that he's married just ruined fucking everything and I can't even fantasize about him NOT being married. It's dreadful. I probably just need to get out and like, meet some real people or something. Anime characters are great and they don't reject me but it gets really dissatisfying after a while...

Life in England

I'm currently in England for the first time ever, and I've been here for about a week. It's not as cold as I thought it'd be, the temperature is actually very tolerable. People also set the heating to something like 25 degrees indoors, which in my mind is almost tropical. It's actually a lot better than winter at my parents' place, where they get all upset about heating bills and I don't wanna challenge that because I'm not paying for it, so I end up freezing instead.

English weather is, however, absolutely miserable. I've experienced three states: cloudy, rain and fog. I can't even remember the last time I saw a blue sky/ sunlight. I've joked to my friends in China: "the skies are grey in China, white in England, and I'm REALLY homesick/ craving sunlight right now". I actually felt sunlight deprived in China as well, seeing as how I'd get to work by 7.20ish anTd get out when it was dark.

Well, the scenery here is pretty enough. It's Autumn right now, the leaves are yellow/ red and falling against the grey sky--- it's good for photography. Then I remember I'm not a big fan of getting up close-and-personal with nature; and I would've been just as happy seeing this in passing as opposed to being trapped in the same scene indefinitely (according to weather forecast). Then I randomly got infected by SOMETHING since arriving in England, and I haven't been able to stop coughing since. I don't know how many small vessels I've burst in my throat, but now my sputum is streaked with blood and everything hurts. I've thought about possibilities from "another cold" to "lung cancer", but it's not very helpful in the end and I just want to stop coughing my lungs out. I should really go see a doctor or something but I've gotten better today, so if I improve some more tomorrow I'll probs just drop the whole idea. I did want a blood test a while back, to figure out if I was just jet-lagged or anaemic. I was light-headed, had no strength in my limbs and I thought I'd fall over when I walked. Then I ate food regularly for like 2 days and all my symptoms disappeared so maybe I just starved myself really badly and then forgot about it.

Food is actually disappointing right now. There's tonnes of curries and stuff but I'm actually not the biggest fan of curries, and I ended up just going after frozen meals from TESCO for some reason. I actually really want a full English breakfast, but I have to go to work so early I don't think I'd have time to eat and enjoy myself properly. The closest I've tried is English breakfast tea, but it tastes worse than the tea back at home for some reason. I also didn't know skim milk tastes almost exactly like water despite looking like normal milk, so my tea was rather disappointing. I added enough sugar to make everything okay, but then I pondered the prospect of diabetes as I drank the whole thing. Due to my paranoia involving sugar these days, I bought myself low-sugar Cheerios for breakfast, and I  can confirm now it tastes like ash. So apparently I like Cheerios for their sugary content and nothing else.  Anyway I don't know why I was even REMOTELY interested in working in UK after graduation; it's almost the same as Australia except everything's colder and more expensive.

The redeeming thing is the people here though. No one's been racist to my face yet despite me being one of the few East-Asians here, whereas back home (just over a month ago, actually), some dirty old lady said to me "we shot you in WWII and if I had a gun I'd shoot you again". Actually I just go to uni in a really racist town, and you get shit on at least once a month by people you've never met before for not-being-white. There's really no way I'd want to stay in that town after I graduate either, actually. Now that I think about it, there's not many places I'd want to be in this world... it's kind of sad.

So yeah, so far people here have been very welcoming towards me, people here queue up to get things and they hold doors open for each other. I got into the "hold the door" and "after you" habit quite quickly. These 2 girls I'm temporarily sharing flats with, called me a gentleman after I opened the car door for one of them--- they were giving me a lift. It was totally unexpected but I was so proud of myself it was like, "woah woah woah achievement unlocked, certified gentleman by British ladies". Also people here are quite sympathetic- I casually mention how the airline lost my luggage and everyone starts freaking out and asking if I was alright--- I mean I was kinda stressed at the time but it was okay because I just went out and bought some new clothes. This is in stark contrast to the people in China... where my main impression is people being rude as fuck, having no notion of queue or order, pushing and shoving others out of the way and even getting off an elevator was a nightmare, because people would sort of barge on in without letting you get out...

I also went to see the new James Bond movie on the weekend- Spectre. It was quite good, I felt. Totally unrealistic but it was a Bond movie so what do you expect. Ben Whishaw is totally cute as Q, he's like the image of the ideal hipster-boyfriend. Then Daniel Craig in a suit still makes me breathe heavily, and they found a REALLY hot Bond girl this time. I'm seriously contemplating getting some Spectre posters to complement my Skyfall collection.

Well that's all I have to say about England right now... it's not that late but I'm getting sleepy as hell, and I want to sleep earlier in case I wake to myself coughing and spluttering at 3am, like I did the 2 previous nights...

About These Unfulfilled Crushes of Mine

Ever since year 12 I had to learn not to take myself too seriously. Sure when I like someone I can become temporarily OBSESSED, but then it dies in like 2 weeks if we don't see each other and in the end it's like... "I don't know what the fuck I was thinking".

The scary thing I do is that as soon as I realize I like someone, my mind races like crazy and I start imagining the most absurd things. Like, I might've only known this person for less than a week and because I'm attracted to them I start thinking things like "I wonder if they'll relocate for my work" or "I wonder if they want kids" or "there is no way my parents will approve of this relationship". So the thing is, THERE IS NO RELATIONSHIP. There is NOTHING. Just me and my fantasies and I've zoomed to like, 10 years ahead or some shit. I honestly scare myself sometimes.

Maybe I'm just too desperate for this whole relationships game. They say if you fall first then you lose, and I feel like I've lost every single fucking time. That's probably a totally skewed statistic, but the truth is, I don't appreciate it when people fall for me unless I like them as well (which obviously hasn't happened otherwise I wouldn't be pathetically single), and then I just forget about it and sink into the "NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE ME" zone. It's a depressing cycle to be trapped in.

Realistically I don't see "forever alone" as a likely prospect though. Even if I never found QUITE the right person, I'd always have the choice to not-be-alone. Every year my weight goes down and my bank savings go up, along with my education level. Well, at some point the weight going down thing probably has to stop, but essentially what I'm saying is my attractiveness as a person is only increasing each year. I've become happier, become slightly more mature and I totally didn't scare off my latest crush despite having his contact details. Well maybe it's because he's married and I'm just repulsed by the whole situation, but I'd like to think of it as a sign of self-control and character growth on my part.

I wonder who I'll have a crush on next. I do wish reciprocation would occur one day though, I'm at the age where I REALLY hate being single (despite telling everyone else about how great single-life is and how much freedom I have).

That Cute Guy I Met in China

Can I call this one a crush? I seem to have too many crushes--- the last one I had fizzled out way too quickly and we barely talk except for occasional banter. Anyway here's how I met this cute guy I obsessively stared at in China.

So he came into work about a week after I started, and I realized he was technically above me in work rank despite us both being under the same supervisor. That sucked, because he looked like he was barely older than me and because of how workplace hierarchy is expressed it made it looked like were a generation apart. Not that I don't respect him for his work but it sorta feels like having to call a 10 year old "uncle", because your grandfather couldn't keep it in his pants in his later years. Well the situation isn't anything similar to that but I hope you understand the sentiment I'm expressing. 

Then later on it turns out he's actually way older than me, so I guess I should just get over it.

So we barely talked for about a week and I kind of paid no attention to him because I was still getting semi-harassed by the cute girls at work and the "come-to-toilet-with-me" guy, but because everyone else was bothering me I realized HE was the only person I wanted to be around, for the fact that he wouldn't talk to me. I moved my work closer to him and we both shared a pleasant silence (at least I thought it was a pleasant silence, because I welcomed silence at that point). Then because we shared work spaces he started asking me to run errands for him--- "can you take these files to X department" and "can you refill my cup with hot water". I don't know if people normally get offended by these tasks or see them as "belittling", but for me it was like "k sure" because I spend most of my time at work playing on my phone anyway. 

Naturally we start talking a bit after that, because neither of us are anti-social and I'm pleasant enough to converse with unless you decide to investigate the details of my personal matters. Now that I'm finally seeing this person as a person for the first time, and not just another piece of furniture in a space where I can find silence, I start committing every little thing I clock about him into my memory. See I notice a lot of things about a lot of people, like how someone has worn the same shirt last Wednesday or how someone sounds entirely different when they're emulating polite laughter. I think we call that general observation, and most of the time it just filters into your subconscious and forms your impression of a person. 

For me... I took it to the next level.

I realized this guy didn't smile a lot, but when he did smile it was always genuine, which means he doesn't try too hard to be a social butterfly. You take people like me, for example--- I practice smiling in front of the mirror... the "I'm interested" to "I'm politely declining" smile all have their little nuances, and I see it as a compulsory social etiquette. The other thing is, when you fuck up people are less likely to be pissed at you, because "you always smile but you're not-smiling now, which means you MUST know you've done something wrong and acknowledge how sorry you are". Anyway, it also means this guy is easier to befriend, because he's genuine about his feelings and you don't have to go through a million twisted lanes to get to know him.

Then I noticed how he wore a new shirt every day and how they were never creased or crinkled. That only means 2 things: either he REALLY cares about appearances or he has a wife who irons his shirts for him. I would've guessed wife, because even I have my lazy days where I just pull a jumper over my crinkled shirt and straighten my collar a few times... but then I noticed he also wore a different pair of shoes every day, which suggests he dresses to his mood and maybe he does just care about appearances... on goes my list of observations....

...types gently, probably doesn't play video games or is really bad at them.

...wears 2 different Swiss watches... is financially stable, then. Likes wearing the watch loose.

...eats slowly, doesn't talk while eating... likely raised in a well-off family that really stressed table manners.

The list goes on, and at one point I finally realized I was being creepy as fuck and acting really abnormal. I was like "yeah ok I probably like this guy, but this is kind of getting out of hand and I'm thinking about him way too often. I need to fucking stop."

Well I would stop if I knew what boundaries were, except I clearly have problems keeping boundaries (read: getting harassed by cute girls from work) so I get his contact details and he seems waaaay more talkative online and answered way too fast for the way he typed... At one point I was like "wow is he flirting with me" but uh look today I found out he has a wife so I was right about him having a wife who probs irons his shirts for him, and there ended my fantasy.

And you're just like "yeah fucking cool story, Vane, 0/10 would not read again".

About that great time I had in China

I left my grandmother's after about a week. It wasn't that I just couldn't stand her giving me a dose of communist anecdotes daily (well tbh I did get fed up with that), it was because I had to start work. Now for confidentiality reasons I can't actually talk too much about work, other than work is mostly boring and work is just work. I can, however, go into great detail about this guy who I work with who I think is really cute, and this other guy from work who annoyed me quite a bit, and invited me to go to the bathroom with him this other time.

So I show up to work, introduce myself to everyone and every single male in the room proceeds to ignore me while all the girls fawn over my cute accent. Sounds like your typical workplace, right. Well, I think girls are cute, so having the girls' attention felt pretty good overall. Then the girls became obsessed with the fact that I was fluent in English, and gave me their contact details so I could "teach them English". So for my audience out there who are interested in women- this is apparently how you get the chicks. Then the guy who eventually annoyed me came over, and I think he was trying to join the conversation but failed miserably, because the attention came back to me, and he just sorta sat in the corner making occasional remarks. I'm like 65% sure that he's jealous of the attention I'm receiving, or maybe he's just trying to be friendly I really wouldn't know.

Then over the next week or so, I'm still trying to get to know everyone but the girls from work have randomly become personal-space-invaders, and started asking me these really private and personal questions I didn't want to answer. Well, maybe for the girls they're neither private nor personal, but for me it was just something I was uncomfortable disclosing. So yeah there's that. However I was really terrible at turning them down and maintaining personal boundaries, because the girls would buy me food and whatever, and they'd sort of sit next to me and make conversation casually. Then the guy who I found annoying from before would just join in and start probing me the way the girls did, except he didn't have the cute-girl aura around him so I just ended up finding him really annoying.

Now that I think back, yeah he was just trying to be friendly with me. Actually one time when I had lunch with him he said "has anyone told you, you're really cute" and I was just busy stuffing food into my mouth going "yeah man I get that all the time". That was probably him  flirting- and it just whoosh'd right over me. Then somehow all of this accumulated into the incident where he insisted I accompany him to the toilet, and I was understandably freaked out--- it's not like I wouldn't have used the toilet while he was there, but having an INVITATION to go to the toilet is a completely different matter. I knows girls do that kind of thing, but I didn't think he needed company or escort, and he wouldn't articulate why I needed to go with him. I was trying to figure out whether "go to the toilet" was an euphemism for "let's have sex" but I didn't think we knew each other that well and it was kind of... WEIRD.

Well here's all I have to say about the guy I found mildly annoying- actually that's a really mean label. If this was high school I'd think he had a crush on me. I actually have to go to work now, so I'll talk about how I basically stared at this one guy for ages on end and made creepy observations another time. Ta.

I'm Alive

No, I didn't quit blogging. It was mostly because I had insane difficulties getting past the Great-Firewall-of-China, and when I did get through, blogging for an hour or two wasn't high on my priorities list. Did I mention I went to China before I disappeared? I probably forgot to, I can't remember.

So, catch up from the last time I blogged- I had my final exam, and it was absolutely abysmal. I'm almost certain I failed, and I came out of the exam room heavily traumatized. In the end I just prayed that all the other assessments I had went alright, and made up for how poorly I did in that one particular exam. If I have to repeat the semester I might go mad, because I hate dermatology and ophthalmology THAT much. It's not that I think they're unimportant or whatever- God knows how much I appreciate having good skin- but goddamn it's just not something I feel like I can do. Studying the subject just... doesn't interest me. I don't even read something and think, "huh, that's cool"--- it's really more of a "kill me now" reaction every time I'm forced to read a related textbook.

After my final exam, I packed all my luggage and left for my parents' house the next day. That's because I'm moving residences again, and I had to drag all the luggage back. The day after I flew out of Australia to China. That was to visit my totally-not-demented-but-definitely-crazy grandmother. It was an absolute NIGHTMARE of an experience for me, visiting her. Her impression of me seems to have stagnated at the time I was 8, and you can imagine how I felt when she interrogated me on whether I had bowel movements in the morning, because apparently I only used the toilet very shortly. Well firstly, the place where grandma lives in humid as hell, and because she refuses to move out of the government-assigned-housing that my parents once lived in, the toilets she had was less than 2 square meters and you had to squat over a pit to take a shit. I'm sure most people can understand why I didn't want to stay long in a small-confined stinky toilet pit, in a town with 40 degree humid weather.

Oh yeah- the weather. I was sweating constantly, dehydrating myself- it was really disgusting being soaked in your own sweat 24/7. I mean I tolerate it at the gym, because I shower almost immediately after, and it's sort of okay. This is just a whole different level of unpleasant.

Then grandma herself, right. She has this insane obsession with Chairman Mao. She's not religious but if she was, Chairman Mao would replace Jesus. Apparently Mao has no flaws and freed everyone in China and now we live in a glorious new age of wealth and prosperity. I guess it's good for grandma to live in her delusions... it'd shatter her to walk out the street and see the conditions people lived in, and the poverty people have to endure. It was really painful for me though, to endure her delusions and sort of play-along with them... grandma's old, after all. I think she'd be happier if she continued to believe in what she believed in. Reality is too cruel.

Not that I'll stop complaining about China. If I get lung cancer in the future, I blame the air pollution in China. I felt like I could hardly breathe- the sky was grey from the smog, everyone I passed by had a cigarette in their hands or smelled of cigarettes--- then when they opened their mouth they'd look super-sinister with their nicotine-stained teeth and absolutely horrid breath. Then there's the shitty traffic where there is a complete disregard of traffic laws. Apparently a red light means "go if you can" and sometimes I don't even know why they bother with traffic lights. Pedestrians share the same path with MOTORCYCLISTS and too often people riding electric bikes will creep up behind me (those things are silent) and I feel like I've experienced way too many near-misses for my liking. I know a golden quote from one of the Hangover movies is "BUT DID YOU DIE", except I really didn't appreciated when I applied myself to the same context.

From what I've said you might gather I didn't have the most wonderful time in China--- but surprisingly, I think I had the time of my life. More to come in the next post- I'm too jet-lagged to keep blogging.

Half empty vs half full

Either way I won't be going thirsty. I got this from a song I found... It resonates with me so well, I felt as if it was written for me.

I can be king again :)

Isn't it crazy

After years of torture, anguish, and rebellion, I still want my parents' approval. Some days I'm like "goddamn I hate you" and I wish I was an orphan. Then when I've done something cool I still want them to know, without having to tell them. I want to win the "let's compare our children's achievements" contest for them, because I know I'm impressive as fuck.

Then at the end of the day I'm like, "lol I don't actually wish I was an orphan, I just wish you'd love me for who I was and be less of an ass".

The World Is Mad

And I'm the only one who remains sane.

Pain is Visceral

I have an exam on Monday. Instead of studying some more I spent the last hour or two crying. I don't like to cry and I don't cry often, but apparently if I do start crying I'm quite inconsolable and there's no way to stop the response. I don't think I was particularly "sad", as sadness is the primary reason we associate with tears. Really, I was in a lot of pain.

Not the same pain I got when I tripped over and scraped half my palm open. This pain came from my guts, and it felt like someone was trying to dissect me internally with a really dull knife. Then it felt like the knife got stuck and someone tried to pull the knife out, but then it was too deeply tangled with my intestines that it just hurt more. I was on the edge of vomiting but couldn't actually vomit, I had this strange thought in my head that if I did vomit, dark clots of blood would be coming out.

I basically lay in bed and I couldn't stop tears from falling out of eyes, I kept on repeating to myself "it hurts it hurts it fucking hurts" but I didn't have the strength to even get up or get myself a cup of water. I knew I was a bit too vulnerable and a bit too oversensitive to stuff, but when it hurts it goddamn hurts and I wished the world would freeze because it hurt so fucking much.

Self-inflicted pain really is terrible. Even if you don't admit it, no one knows yourself as well as you do. Even in your subconsciousness you realize your vulnerabilities and fears, so when you hurt yourself you really fucking go for it, an the voices in your head dig out everything that cut you down. My insecurities are so far-fetched and ludicrous that only I would know they existed, and only I would be able to magnify the fear 500 million times until it occupied my mind.

You know what the trigger is? One fucking phone call. More like, one SENTENCE over the entire conversation. Non-offensive, innocent remark and I thought to myself, "if my life was a game, this is the part where I uninstall". I can't play any more. I can't deal with the consequences of psychological pain becoming symptomatic. I don't know if it's my meds making me whack or if it's what I already had that made me this way... but goddamn it hurts.

And wow I can't believe I have an exam on Monday. FML.

My Shitty Internet Pisses Me Off

Goddamn I hate being in Australia. "Oh look I'm in a major city". Holy shit major city here is like being in a deserted village. What's the point of being "first world" if your internet is the same speed as dial up. I wanna play games dammit.

Online Dating

Was having late night (by late night I guess I mean "almost dawn") conversation with my friend about how we're pathetically single- I reassured him that he wasn't meant to be with this girl who turned him down, and in turn he told me I'd get my ass dumped if I found anyone (this guy). Unfortunately through our misery we did not have that magical teen-movie moment where we realize we were meant to be together and thus break through the friend zone; instead we both ended up creating profiles on dating sites. We figured that if we got teased for utilizing online dating, we could just be like, "well, how would YOU know, unless you were on there yourself???"

There's a certain stigma that comes with online dating. It's often seen as the go-to for people with social anxiety, who prefers the security blanket of hiding behind a computer screen, and the ability to "disconnect" when things went awry. Personally I had often wished that people walked around with a short bio of themselves, letting me know that they weren't my type of person and that I shouldn't even waste time socializing with someone like them. Anyway, my friend and I both agreed that online dating was actually genius and very efficient- you can literally set preferences for what you like and don't like, and you can sift through so much information without committing to anything or ACTUALLY getting to know someone. It's like, you don't have to ask some girl out, pay for all this shit, and by the 5th date find out she doesn't approve of your religion (or something along those lines).

So it turns out that the first person who is interested in me was looking for someone to participate in a 3-some. I quickly realized that online dating probably wasn't as convenient and efficient as I thought, and I probably wasn't going to find "true love" online. Also, some people write the most obnoxious things on their profiles....

Anyway there I am, flicking through matches, and I come across this weird conflict where I find someone's profile picture very attractive but apparently we are totally dissimilar. The site I use gives you a % for compatibility and the way I see it is, "would I be disappointed if I got that % for a maths test?" If the answer is "yes" I usually reject someone, but then I realize their profile looks way good and I try and match them anyway...

Though sometimes I wonder if 50% compatibility actually means we disagree on roughly half of everything one can disagree about. That means if we were going to be together, I'd either have to compromise half the time or try and make the other person follow my way. Knowing myself I'm far more likely to force my way than compromise, because I'm a selfish person in general. Then knowing that I had made someone else compromise for me, I'd feel awfully guilty and perhaps overly compensate the next time around; then my partner reckons I'm actually okay because I compromise eventually and we perpetuate this shitty relationship where we're not actually suited to each other.

Alright this just derailed to something else entirely. Moral of the story is that I prefer someone like me, so I don't have to struggle over our differences. I know some people say you need someone to "complement" yourself, and I mean I'd enjoy that to a degree--- someone that drags me out when I'm feeling lazy, someone who wants to be exciting when I'm boring. But those things are only novel--- soon it'd just devolve to arguments about how I'm no fun to be around and I'd grumble about how they probably have ADHD because it's always one thing or another. I think really I'd prefer someone who played music for me when I was feeling lazy, and found entertainment when I was being boring.

Maybe I should just look forward to the near-future, where technology allows me to build my own robot lover that cooks me meals and cleans my house. A robot that looks human but I can customize traits down to the size of their phalangeal joints, and maybe I can use it for wild sex without worrying about herpes or HIV (cue "ewwwww, gross" from the audience). I mean come on wtf were you going to do if you had a customizable robot??? NOT-have wild sex with it??? Sheesh go back to your Vatican cathedral and celibacy vows, and I'll be enjoying my mass orgy in hell.

Yeah I should go to bed. In summary this whole "online dating" thing is more of a misadventure and probably not my solution to life (unless I want life with herpes).

Fashion?

If you go back about 10 years I would have never imagined myself this way. When I was 10-11 I always thought I'd end up the sort who didn't give a fuck what they wore. That's actually how I dressed, for the most part. Just put on whatever, if it keeps me warm then it's fine. In fact, the cheaper my clothes, the better. I think I wanted to be a carefree kid who didn't care what anyone else thought.

Fast forward to the present, it's 11.40pm and I'm browsing /r/malefashionadvice instead of writing this assignment that's due tomorrow. It's only 500 words, I could be done with it if I just focused- but I just can't seem to because it's so fucking boring. From /r/malefashionadvice I travel to these websites where I browse trainers and Derby shoes and I'm kind of amazed that I can name shoes as Derbys or Oxfords or Bluchers. I'm looking at trainers because I want to hit up the gym next year and currently I have joggers which I tripped over twice in. When I bought my joggers I thought they were pretty cool, since they give me like 5cm of extra height and whatever supplements my height makes me feel good. I haven't grown since I was 14 or 16 and I feel so goddamn inadequate- given my genes I guess I shouldn't expect too much but my brother is taller than me and that makes me feel sad. There's a joke where my height is referred to as a "second class disability"... actually it's a pretty mean joke, making fun of disabled people... Anyway it's a strange night and it's strange I'm lamenting my height right now.

Basically thanks to my joggers being too awkward to wear I fall over heaps when I run, and I injure myself when I fall. Fun times. New trainers aren't that expensive online, and I'm mighty tempted to buy some but I should really save some money and stop spending on random crap. There's some big stuff I want to spend money on in the future, and it's pretty important to me so I should just save for that instead. In the meanwhile I REALLY gotta work hard at this school thing, so I can get myself sorted, graduate, get paid, make money and just... live the life I've always wanted to live.

Yeah browsing shoes late at night is a terrible idea.

This dinner I went to

Went out for dinner last night with housemate and a friend who invited us to catch up (I think that was the intention). Now this friend of mine has a few problems that makes conversation with him extremely difficult, but I appreciate his honesty and genuine personality, so we remain friends. Anyway the proverbial shit-storm had recently blown over my housemate and I, so I thought "why not use this opportunity to socialize a little and see if we can sorta patch up the cracks in our relationship". For the most part that went well... I mean, it could've gone better if the food wasn't bland and the conversation wasn't so fucking boring.

Food... at the friend's recommendation we visited this cafe, and I said I wanted my t bone steak well done. I know people look at me like I'm strange when I say I want my meat well done, but it's like, "YES I WANT MY FOOD COOKED". Occasionally I enjoy the thrill of tearing through raw meat that makes me feel predatory, vicious and somewhat carnal. Ok the last bit is probably worrying, but I'm saying for the most part I liked cooked food. Except when I say "I want my steak well done" I do not mean "burnt to ashes". Maybe I just don't know enough about culinary arts but it looked like coal, tasted like coal and I'm just like "boy I hate Western food".

Just... no.

Then came the conversation. My housemate is a sociable person and makes decent conversation most of the time. This mutual friend of ours, not so much. I was too busy eating though and my housemate was too polite to tell him to shut the fuck up, and before we knew it, he went on this mega tangent about his vision for the future, his ambitions and how he is trying to "loosen up" whilst totally not loosening up.

TBH I've never met someone without autism who is SO BAD at picking up social cues. His topics were uninteresting, and revolved around his personal expectations which neither I nor my housemate could relate to. A neutral response on our part- and by neutral I mean, "oh, ok" was taken as an expression of interest in what he was saying. Then this guy just talked on and on and on and I'm like "fucking kill me now".

At one point in conversation I was both bored and drunk enough to tell him, "as your friend I must inform you, the conversation you make is boring as fuck" and he looked at me in the eye and said, "thank you for telling me that, I appreciate it". After a brief pause he delves back into a similar topic and I wanted to bang my head against a wall. All attempts to change topic of conversation failed, as they inevitably led back to how he must secure a good job, and in doing so secure his parents' retirement fund and a future for his children. He doesn't have any children. He can't find a girl and he's in the process of figuring out why, but reckons he shouldn't worry too much about it, since he doesn't have enough finances for them to get married now anyway.

I've legit never met anyone who was so preoccupied with responsibility and financial stability. I understand his background and the position he comes from, but I really prefer the type of person who mentions that kind of thing one time, just to let me know that I should watch out for my spoilt side in front of him, because he didn't have that kind of thing. Right now it's just like, yes, your life is hard. Yes, you've got more shit on your plate than I do (and probs more than I ever will have), but telling me once is enough to gain my sympathy and understanding. Then the more you bring up that shit, the more this "diminishing returns curve" becomes real and at one point I no longer give a fuck about their tragedies and hardships.

It makes me sound so cold, but I kind of am to start with, and I really don't appreciate it when someone wants to talk about the same topic with me over and over and over, at every meeting. It makes our relationship one-dimensional--- oh goddamn not to mention that topic is something I have next to zero interest in, but only broached out of my respect for my friend.

Doesn't sound like I have too much respect for this friend of mine, does it? And that realization makes me guilty as fuck, but at the same time I'm at that stage where I no longer enjoy hanging out with him, and really if another dinner invitation popped up I'd be like, "uuuughhhhh". It's different to disliking him as a person though. I don't feel like I have something against him. I just... don't enjoy what we talk about, but those happen to be the ONLY things he talks about.

I probably just need to be a better friend tbh.

Money Buys Happiness

I swear the phrase "money can't buy happiness" is invented by rich people to quash the anger of the lower class, so that they stop rioting about how poor they are. It's such a lie, really. Money CAN buy happiness. It also solves like 99% of your problems.

I bought a new phone recently- after 4 years I think I did quite well--- I'm proud I toughed it out that long. It's a beautiful new phone, the case I got it is ugly as hell but I'll go hunting for a better case later. I was too afraid to use my phone without a case- I know how uncoordinated I am, and I didn't want to end up with a cracked screen the first week into my purchase. I mean, my last phone lasted 4 years without a dent.

So yeah, new phone, I bought myself a new jumper and a few new shirts as well. I've also been eating out quite a bit- so I should probs watch out if I don't want to bankrupt myself. I'm travelling at the end of the year so I'm really looking forward to that. Like... it's actually happening! I'm going places and seeing stuff and I just feel so... alive. Sure I had like a shitty day here and there but the past few months have been extraordinary. Bad things still happen but I'm appreciating the majority of good days I have now.

It's a good time to be alive.

Q_Q

Due to recently coming to terms with how fucked up I am, I have decided to seek help and arrange counselling. My first stop was my friendly local GP- I needed vaccines for hep A and typhoid anyway, so I thought while I was getting that I'd book in a long appointment and tell him "btw I'm really fucked up". Oh a GP, for those of you who aren't Australian, stands for "general practitioner" which is similar to a "family physician" or just "doctor".

So I go to my GP and tell him my problem in a one-liner, and he's just staring at me like, "uhhhh, have you talked to anyone about this". Having had similar counselling training myself, I was fully prepared to answer the whole spiel of questions. Then my GP was like "here's a support group for you go talk to them". I'd press him further but his body language spoke full rejection (which I am now very adept at reading) so I just left the consult. What I really wanted was a referral to a psychiatrist, because I don't really believe in counselling and drugs are wonderful. Well that's not technically true, clinical psychologists are pretty legit, but I don't want to go through sessions of "mindfulness" bullshit and "you should try yoga or taichi". I mean, I go to med school and I learnt a bit about counselling already, and so far it all seems like... complete, utter, shit.

I'm too cynical for this already.

I can't say I'm too disappointed with how my GP acted. Well, he would have failed by exam standards, with the 0/10 empathy, NO psychosocial assessment (didn't even ask the red flag questions) and what the fuck I didn't even get a referral, not even to another GP. It's like... "dude you didn't even TRY". It's kinda cringey to watch him because I'm in training and I can easily call him out on all the shit he didn't do. Like I said I could've pressed him real hard but I chose not to, because what's the point of prolonging contact with someone who doesn't want to deal with your shit? The frustrating thing is, I totally get where he's coming from. I'm all kinds of fucked up and I guess if I got tossed a patient like that I'd be inclined to toss the case to someone else, too. Not like "I can't handle it" but more of a "there are easier ways for me to live my life and this can be someone else's strife". The shitty part was he didn't toss me to someone else properly, he pointed me to a "support group" and like fuck me I KNOW THIS SHIT, OK. I KNOW "SUPPORT GROUP" IS JUST AN EASY WAY OUT AND A DEFERRAL OF RESPONSIBILITY.

I swear to God if it gets any worse I'm going to go mad. I thought if I held back on my crazy for a bit longer it'd be fine. I mean in 2-3 years I'd be qualified to write my own scripts and I can prescribe myself whatever the fuck I want, but considering I wanted to kill myself with morphine about a year ago, I'm not that keen on self-medicating. I mean, if I ever get to that stage, I'll be THAT much better at knowing which drug will knock me off, and I'll be THAT much better at finding veins, locating the right artery to slice or whatever morbid thing I decide at the time.

Fuck it feels so wrong and I feel so vulnerable going to the doctor to get treatment. Like, I say I want to be a psychiatrist myself- wtf is the point of going to med school if I can't even treat myself? How the fuck do you treat patients when you can't even solve your own problems. The other factors that come into play are like, "I literally know what's wrong with me. I shouldn't self-diagnose but it's not like my doctor knows me better than I know myself. Hoooly shit."

Ah it's ok, it's just another door in life I have to kick through. I get frustrated now and again but I guess this is actually not a big deal. If I tough it out for another 2 years I'll just be ok. At least I've gotten out of the self-denial zone of "nah I'm fine. I'm totally fine. I moved out and everything is fine". If I could forget about this and just live my life... I could be so... happy.

And I was so happy.

Happy days

I haven't felt so well since I started uni 2 and a half years ago. I don't know if the workload has lessened or what, I just feel... good. I went and met up with friends for lunch today, had nice food at an Italian restaurant, talked for a while and now I'm back at my parents' place for the weekend. I hope the good mood persists.

I've been listening to random music and watching anime/ TV. Everything's so chill and going so well it's unreal. I don't know why but everything just feels so well-aligned right now, compared to how I felt around a week ago, where everything was slightly out of place. I guess I figured some things out, in the end.

Here's the song I've been waaaay too addicted to. 

ENG version

JAP version (the one I like better)

We are who we are

And we want who we want. Let us be judged by our actions. Loving someone is not a crime. Acting on impulse and hurting those we love, that is.

That's just what I think, anyhow.

Kindness

You know what they say?

"Being kind doesn't cost you any money"

"A small bit of kindness can light up someone's day"

"Kindness saves lives"

There's an old Chinese proverb, "人之初 性本善". On a literal level it means that in the beginning, humans were naturally kind. I wonder if, by interpretation, it means we all grow to be twisted and cruel.

So often, I implore of others, "please be kind".

What does it mean to be kind, anyway? It turns out not many people set out to be unkind. The kindness they bestow, however, is not necessarily desirable or useful in any way. There is no way that kindness comes at a low price- some forms of kindness requires great sacrifice.

Yet there is no way this world would survive without kindness.

Slanted Lines

I can't think. I can't concentrate. I don't even know what's going on in my life any more. There are some strange thoughts that plague my mind that I can't seem to shake off; there is someone who keeps on invading my thoughts and prevents me from being productive. I hate it, I hate it so much.

"Just forget it! Leave them be!" Wise words, probably--- not the most practical advice though, I'm afraid. Were it so easy to just forget someone, I think I would be a much happier person. Lately I've had so many discussions with my close friend about what it means to care about someone. My troubles transformed, from not-caring about someone and thus unable to show concern, to caring about someone I wish I could forget. My life would be easier that way.

Is it too cruel to wish someone out of your life? Yet I know if they disappeared I would grieve for ages and become quite inconsolable. What I need is a healthy dose of amnesia, really. It's almost like I'm suffering from PTSD.

To compound my latest frustrations, I re-discovered my diary which I had not written in for many months. I realized all my previous entries were full of depressing tales, and apparently I wanted to kill myself by overdosing on morphine on New Year's Eve of 2013. It turns out I had gone back to my parents' place for Christmas, my mother said something which absolutely tipped me over the edge, and I became woefully depressed and mildly suicidal. I'm kind of frightened that I thought that way once- since by then I had technically already moved out and everything should have been going swimmingly.

I think I'm just more grateful to be alive these days. I found out about the explosions in Tianjin, China today. That's where I could've gone to uni, really. I could be a +1 to the talley of missing bodies, or among those in hospital suffering from burns, blunt trauma and organ failure due to the force of the explosion. That's me, in a different timeline, living a different possibility. Therefore I should be grateful for where I am now, shouldn't I. Physically capable, clever and incredibly good at being liked by others. Here I am, sitting comfortably, troubled by self-invented woes while thousands of lives are being torn apart on a different continent.

What the fuck does it even mean, to be a better person? There have always been people I looked up to- and I decided I would select their best qualities, and copy them. Since they had these qualities I admired, if I worked towards it myself, I would surely be advancing myself. It's wrong. It's so, so wrong. I had no idea what some people traded to become what I admired. I don't even mean "hard work" and "effort", I mean they suffered, suffered greatly, and perhaps only circumstance forced them to become the person they are. If I had understood the price they paid, perhaps I would not wish to be like them at all.

Nights like these make me rethink my goals for cultivating certain virtues. Virtues are virtues because they are approved by society; flaws are flaws because they do not benefit me. Once in a while I'd like someone to say, "even if your best is not good enough, your best is all you can give and all anyone can reasonably expect from you". In truth, only one person has ever said that to me, Though they are no longer a part of my life, I am so grateful for those words- so when they resonate in my mind, I know it is an echo of words that had once been spoken, as opposed to a device of my desperate imagination.

And maybe on occasions like these- when I've stayed up far too late and feel very strangely depressed, maybe it's ok to print my slanted thoughts onto slanted lines.

Tilted

You know that feeling, when you try doing too many things at once, and everything seems to slot slightly out of place? Like that painting on the wall you try to straighten- and you push it further out of place with your effort, until you leave it dangling more slanted than before. It's a nuisance in terms of aesthetics, but then if you don't let it bother you, nothing consequential comes out of it either.

It's so hard being the protagonist- even in your own life. You keep on trying to be the hero you see, but it becomes so unrealistic after a while. It's absolute bullshit how all these main characters only have one fatal flaw, and how they overcome it with "the power of friendship" or whatever. People are flawed in so many different ways, but flaws are only contextual anyway. One's flaw is another's virtue in a different environment, and sometimes I just feel like my talents make me maladaptive to this timeline I travel.

They say when you love someone, you love them for their flaws. It's not that you don't see flaws, but you love them for it, and accept it for part of who they are. That concept frightens me to no end- if you recognize it as a flaw to begin with, that just means some part of your system have rejected it from the beginning. You can love someone despite this, but when that love runs out, their flaws will surface, and become magnified. It is so much harder to love then. One argument gone extremely wrong will be like a bucket of cold water over your head. "How could I have been so blind? How in the world did I think I could live with that? It's so fucked up."

That's not even the worst though. The worst is when your passion inevitably diminishes, and you must learn to be content with a more domestic, familial relationship. Your partner has to be your friend, your family, and you must interact with them daily. And you watch, every day, as you count up the different aspects of this person that bother you- until one day it crumbles and you can't even begin to explain how you ended up this way.

"I love the way he pouts and grumbles when I win an argument"
---I hate the fact that he never apologizes afterwards

"I love the sparkles in his eyes when he talks about his passions"
---I hate it when he doesn't know when to shut up, because I'm clearly not interested

"I love the fact that he's knowledgeable and mature"
---I hate his jaded personality and how he undermines my optimism

Even then, things are not at their worst. Love and hate, I believe, go hand in hand. They both require emotional investment, they require thought and feeling and even your body will make some response- your heart will ache and your eyes will water. The worst part is when you don't hear from someone for days, but you don't think about it. You don't have these crazy thoughts of "what if they got ran over by a car", you don't worry about whether they're cold, whether they're eating well or wonder if they miss you. You continue with your life and you can't tell the difference if they are there or not.

And it turns out the one line that can collapse your whole world is, "ah, I forgot about you."

Strife

Day 20, my friend is still pissed off at me.

Well, I don't actually know if it's day 20, I haven't been counting carefully. If I had to estimate it though, 20 would be my guess.

Why is she mad at me? Oh I have a few hypotheses. It's either because of the ugly sequelae following that exam she failed, or because I told her to date this guy she doesn't actually like. I'm not sure which one she's more pissed off at, but it's pretty awkward for me right now.

Sometimes I don't think things are a big deal, but it turns out they mean a lot to other people, and the "inconsequential" things I do probably end up hurting peoples' feelings. I don't even realize it at the time, then when I respond it's more "wow that is so fucking trivial, are you seriously angry at me over this" as opposed to just "sorry". It's a terrible way to react, I know.

I'm actually just a shitty person sometimes.

Then the telling her to date a guy she doesn't like thing--- well, I realized this guy liked her, and I thought he was a pretty cool guy! So I was like, why don't you give him a chance (to her) and she got really pissed off. I think it's probably because I keep on making these peer-pressure comments that she gets so irritated. I've since learnt better and I swear to God I will never make the same mistake in the future. Moral of the story kids, NEVER say to someone "you should go out with X or Y" or "you'd make a cute couple" or w/e ---- the comments seem harmless enough but apparently they're really fucking annoying and you could just piss someone off in the process. When you think about it, there's nothing to be gained from your friend either dating or not-dating someone, in fact when they DO date, you'd probs hear all about the drama and then it's just not worth.

Though she is now best friends with the guy that likes her, so I guess that worked out. Or did it? Because she's defs still pissed off at me.

Not overtly pissed--- more like, withdrawn mood, avoidance, and denial of eye contact. It could be depression. I get the feeling that she just wants to be left alone though, so I might just leave it and see if she gets over it. I asked her if she was sad the other day, and she seemed to take offense--- that doesn't mean she's not sad, btw, she's just offended I think she's sad. Women are so complicated, I swear.

No that was a lie too, they're not complicated. I just worked out why she's pissed, so there's nothing complicated about it. I probs just need to man up and apologize for hurting her feelings. She's avoiding me as much as she can though so idk how it's going to go through. I'll do my best.

I hate taking responsibility for the shitty things I do.

Flutter

Having a crush is an emotional roller coaster.

My attention span was pathetic enough as it was. Now studying is near impossible.

My heart skipped when they texted back. Yes I texted first. Encouraged by this, I texted again, and this time it was a 2 word reply, 4 hours later.

I thought, ok, this is the end, was fun while it lasted. I get the hint. Conversation ended.

Then I check my social media page, turns out they added me 8 hours ago and asked, "hey, how are you".

My feelings are reignited.

I swear this is the most embarrassing thing to happen since the crush I had in year 12 (3 years ago).

Yet, I feel alive.

Wait

Do you want to live your life in vain?
-No

Do you want to live a life of regret?
-No, not at all.

Do you want to inspire greatness? Be worshiped by others? 
-Uh, not particularly.

What is it then, that you want out of life? Do you have even a trace of ambition?
-I want to be happy. I have plenty of ambition.

Are your ambitions realistic? Is it that easy to be happy?
-It's never easy being happy. Being happy is my primary ambition.

Without sadness, there can be no happiness. Do you know what it means to be happy?
-I don't like being sad. I believe I have seen enough of sorrow to know happiness.

What will you contribute to society? What will you do for this world? Are you content with being a mere thread in the tapestry of time?
-I will contribute by spreading the happiness I find. I don't know if I will change the world. I am content with being happy, whether that makes me a thread or something else.

In the end, I just want to live.

When a pessimist meets a greater pessimist

I've long been criticized for my cynicism and pessimistic outlook towards this world, it was refreshing to find someone who thought I was passionate and idealistic. I soon realized it was merely the contrast I provided- when you're surrounded by darkness the light of a candle might as well be the light of a solar flare.

For a moment I understood why some people hated my attitude- goddamn it was depressing to be around someone who found life bleak all the time. All I was trying to do was to get through my day with as little injury as possible, and here was this guy forecasting the suffering I will go through. Among his many wise words was the phrase "we were born to die", which I found most depressing, not only because of the nature of the phrase but because I had thought that multiple times myself. I didn't want to tell him, "hey man, you don't need to tell me these things, because I already know and I already think it on a regular basis". Instead I tried to explain to him the ideology I was trying to live by; the thought I clung to which prevented me from suicide.

If you look at it from a literal point of view, yes, we were all born to die. To this day, death remains inevitable and there is ample reason for why we could not live forever. It would be depressing to watch the ones you love age and die, one by one, even if you could remain healthy and youthful for all of eternity. Even in some fantasy scenario (if you had read Twilight, for example), where you and your beautiful vampire boyfriend lived forever, I still believe it would be non-sustainable (as you need to derive joys from more than one person in life).

Why do we bother living then? Why not kill yourself now versus dying of heart failure 70 years later? The meaning of life is not a question I am prepared to answer for anyone else other than myself, but for me it's a matter of happiness. Happiness is transient, and we need to experience a great deal of grief before we can realize happiness by contrast--- yet in the end, that is one experience I choose to undergo. Right now I am young and healthy--- I want to enjoy the energies of my youth, I want to walk the streets of foreign lands with my stable feet, and want to see the bright colors of the Earth with my 20/20 vision. I still want to know what it feels like to love and be loved in return, and I want to struggle through my med degree til the day I'm weathered and pretentious like 90% of the surgeons I've ever known- then I want to brag about how I'm the best at what I do, how my patients love me and how interns these days are just too fucking weak since they can't even handle a 72hr shift with no sleep and no food.

Actually now that I've made my sarcastic point: what the fuck is wrong with these people expecting doctors to run 72hr shifts? Like, just because you've suffered through it doesn't mean you have to be a vindictive asshole and hope everyone else goes through it. I hate how people say how unfair it is---- THERE IS NOTHING DESIRABLE ABOUT EQUALITY WHEN IT COMES TO 72HR NO-BREAK SHIFTS. Holy fuck I suffered severe stress, mild depression and spontaneous insomnia during my college years, where all I did was wish the world ended one day or wish I had died the next. Just because I went through that shit doesn't mean I wish that amount of mental stress upon anyone. If someone got a high mark than me in college, going through less trauma--- THEN GOOD FOR THEM. I don't need other people to be in distress to validate my personal existence. I can take care of myself and other people can sort their own shit out.

Back to my original topic about this pessimist I met: I can actually name many factors that make up his personality. His background, his occupation, his social situation are all HUGE risk factors for a "really sad person to be around" but I think I actually adore him. All he does is tell me depressing things, but I actually like him. I have not liked anyone else in the world in such a way, since my maths teacher in college (who I think saved me from hell). I wonder if it's because I went through that "my father is dead to me" phase that I start looking for male role-models in my life to look up to, and I like them because they're the surrogate to parental-love which I crave. I've said many times that I like being liked, and I think that applies universally. Even if I don't like someone I wish they liked me anyway. I'm selfish that way.

Why do I like this pessimist so much? Because I actually agree with his views and enjoy being depressed in harmony? No, that is not the correct answer. I like him because he thinks I'm the happier, cheerier one out of us, and I like deflecting every shitty thing he says about life in general. It's one of those "pointless arguments" that aren't actual arguments, I'm talking back because I know he doesn't actually believe what he's saying, and I think he's only saying these things because I'm trying to look on the bright side. For me, it was like... he wanted someone to tell him that he was wrong, for someone to say "hey life isn't as shit as you think it is"--- and I wanted to be wanted. I'm not very good at explaining this right now- and I'm sure I could be more eloquent if I tried, but basically the net outcome was that we were both very psychologically satisfied.

I knew for a fact that I was liked, and I knew for a fact that he enjoyed my company despite not wanting to admit it to me. My friend, who is still recovering from a heartbreak from years ago, told me this, "she told me she needed me and that fucked with me". Now I fully understand the power of feeling like you're needed in this world. Even if in my case it was non-romantic, I think it's definitely one of those things that make you want to keep on living. Many times you hear stuff like, "I'm not doing this for myself, I'm doing it for someone I love", and I sorta get that now, the thought behind it. Being needed gives us value, it gives us identity....


and I believe the happiness it gives becomes my raison d'etre.