I smoke because I associate it with happier memories. When I started I had good conversations and company. I want to remember it, yet stick after stick my memories only become fainter.

I hate my medication because I started it at the worst time of my life, when I had no other choice but to take it. I told myself I took it because I didn’t want to kill myself when in reality I’d already died many times over.

I cut myself because it reminds me of familiar pain; A pain I know how to cope with. And it doesn’t matter how many white welts trace where I tried to bleed my lips blue, it gave me a peace of mind and that was all I needed at that point.

I’m a liar and I wouldn’t advise anyone on trusting me. But one thing I can never cover up is that, I’m a terrible, terrible person. I’m fucked up and I have all these bad habits coupled with warped and twisted ideas – I understand if no one can ever love me.

You, espicially you. Please don’t love me. You must not love someone, who doesn’t not even know how to love herself. 

The Last Lap

Waddap, guys.

I have finally made it.

Well, sort of.

I just entered my last semester of school and my main exams are only 13 working (actual schooling) weeks away! I like the thought that I can roughly count down to how many weeks I have left in school but the more I blabber about it to others, the more it sounds like a jail sentence. If so, I’d better behave. Parole?

That being said, I regret to inform that I am in no mood for school at all. I haven’t bought my books and I still sit at the back of my class. Last I checked, two out of the three modules I’m taking requires group work on a 50% marking grid and I’m as sociable as a brick.

I feel like I graduated together with my other friends, who right now are like:

I apologize for following suit.

You see, I don’t feel like I’ve been in school for over a year. No, it’s not because of my depression, but because I’d spent a year not learning anything.

This is different from when my guardian taught me how to trim my own nails recently.
Don’t take me to be a spoiled brat, please. There are just something I don’t particularly care about to a point that people have to sit me down and do it for me. Or in this case, teach Cherie how to cut her nails and she would never have to waste tens of hundreds of dollars sitting in a nail salon.

Back to the point of not learning anything in the past 12 months or so, I really haven’t. The last 6 months, I’d spent my time re-taking modules for all that I’d failed two semesters ago and the 6 months before that, I was slaving away (well, not really) at my interning office. Yeap, no learning whatsoever, though I may have come across a few new porn genres… Alright, I kid.

But seriously, can you imagine how unpracticed I am with the whole notion of learning? I get to class and suddenly I’m thrown into this whirlwind of bizarre terminologies and monotonous lectures. I can’t skip lectures anymore in fear that I’d miss something (though I don’t exactly catch anything while I’m there) and I have to double check my classrooms because I am (still) so terrible with faces, it’s been two weeks and I still can’t remember a single classmate’s face. I won’t even start on how easily my classmates register information, making class skip ahead faster than I’d prefer and… and…

But I can’t give up now, can I? I only have 13 more weeks to go.

But that also means I only have 13 more weeks till my main exams.

13 more weeks to master 3 modules I am totally new to.

13 more weeks till I find out if I get to graduate or go into 4.2.

13 more weeks till I have to either graduate, get a job or not graduate and be buried alive by my dad.

I am not prepared at all.

I guess for a start I’ll buy my books and get started with my assignments.

It doesn’t help that I’m posting this at three in the morning. But hey, at least I said I’ll try. Don’t you give people brownie points if they try? Or maybe just a brownie. I’d settle for that right now.

More bad news, I heard there is going to be tedious calculation questions in all my modules this semester. I am very intimidated and dreadful, of course. But I must not forget that I am an engineer in training and that math can rule the world.

I’d better end here. It occurs to me that the earlier it get in the morning, the weirder things seem to get.



Bloody Hell

Let me start this post with my very first tweet this 2014:

No, I’m not whining over the fact that I got my period on New Year’s Day, it’s the fact that it simply hasn’t stopped.

‘Bloody hell’, how very fitting. To not only be cramping through the start of the year but be bitched out when your mood swings like a pendulum, all at the same time. Not forgetting how horribly weak I’ve been feeling the past month due to my lost of blood, as I attempt to celebrate Christmas and not cry over the damn holiday. Hell indeed.

Here’s the low down:
It all started on the 27th of November, I wrote it down in my organizer. I wasn’t disheartened that I got my period a little early and just before my birthday, things happen and it wasn’t like I was planning on going swimming or something. The point is that it’s already the 7th of January 2014 and my uterus is still going strong.

I mean-

How big is the size of the damn thing anyway? Scratch that, who the hell does that thing think it is anyway, vivaciously spewing blood from between my legs as if I own a flipping blood bank?

I feel like this is some mean joke life is pulling on me. It probably went like ‘Hey, let’s take the periods of 10 women and put it into one girl! That ought to be fun!’ Fuck you, life.
Honestly, I’ve gotten so weak once, I envisioned bleeding myself into A&E. Why not? It’s already gone strong from more than a month. Might as well make something of it, right? Don’t you think it’ll be funny? Missing school because you couldn’t get your lady parts to bleed for you on time and normally like regular girls?

Period flow:
I’d be lying if I said I’ve been on heavy flow for the past month. Thankfully, I haven’t. If not, I probably wouldn’t even have the strength to be typing this.

The first week started out like any other period, heavy at first still it slowly turned to drips on panty liners before you are free to swim without needing Moses to part the red sea of your community pool. Only difference is that the drips never stopped and got heavier a couple days later, so here I am thinking ‘Maybe I sat down wrong and that piece of curdled blood couldn’t find it’s…exit.

This repeated for the next one and a half week. Sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night, check myself and decide that it was safe to wear liners. The next morning I wake up to either a Japanese flag, or
So here I am wondering how many uteri I have down there, I’m genuinely curious to know right now. The worst case of bleeding happened just recently, when parts of my uterus lining decided to simultaneously detach itself from it’s walls and splatter onto a very unprepared pad. It wasn’t even the overnight kind, the poor thing.
If it wasn’t bad enough that I’d felt the entire free fall of blood chunks in the form of cramps and the feeling of involuntary urination when it exitsI just had to be climbing up a staircase two steps a time.
Words cannot describe the shame I’d felt when I saw blood along with chunks trickle down my inner left thigh, in the middle of Changi-fucking-Airport. I can only be thankful that nothing touched the polished floors of the corridor and that no too-kind soul had stopped to help me, thinking I’d miscarried or something. The amount of shame would be unbearable if that was to happen, imagine having to explain to him/her that I am not, in fact some slut that accidentally got herself pregnant and just had to miscarry her boyfriend’s child (boyfriend, who probably is some rich young punk whom is running away from his responsibilities) in the middle of an airport of all places, and they’d be like ‘Yeah, sureee’. Talk about being melodramatic, but hey, I was on my period and BLOOD WAS RUNNING DOWN MY FLIPPING LEG, OKAY?

This isn’t the first time my vagina has pull such a stunt, the first time was in a hospital, in front of my dad and a nurse who had just asked me if I were pregnant (it was an X-ray, guys). I recall being all ‘Well, oops there it goes, nothing to worry about now!’ while the nurse was pale with… disgust. Yeah, come to think of it, she did look like she was about to hurl. Back to point, having something like that happen to you in a hospital under such circumstance isn’t that favorable either.

Oh my God, I have never binged so hard in my life. I’ve tried to control myself but it’s the holiday season for Pete’s sake. Food is everywhere. Cakes,

ham, turkey and chocolate. Oh wow, chocolate.
Of all the cravings I’ve had, I’ve had the worst cravings for chocolate. If you know me well enough (it’s actually written in the cheat sheet, all you have to do is read.) I only ever eat chocolate while I’m on my period, just like how I try to dip everything into peanut butter while I’m not bleeding so ridiculously.

Trust me, during my preposterously long menstruation, I’ve had chocolate in any way possible.

  • Fondue
    Where I’d dipped anything and everything edible into. Cheesecake, banana bread, mini cupcakes, durian and custard puffs, fruits (to make myself feel a little better), you name anything on the buffet line that didn’t have any form of sauce or gravy on it, I’ve probably already tried it with chocolate, savory or not.
  • Bars of chocolates
    Whether I’d received it as an obvious last minute gift or just bought my own in bundles, no thanks to Christmas and holiday sales, I’ve had them in as many ways as I could find. Dark, white or milk. With or without nuts, raisins and sometimes rocky road. I’ve even had them with those little pop rocks sprinkled into it. I also managed to eat an entire large bag of Reeses PeanutButter Cups (because they just had to put the two of my most favorite spreads into one sweet treat together.) through the movie ‘Frozen’, much to my disappointment in myself.
  • Lindor Liquor Chocolate Balls
    These things should be banned around girls on their periods. I ate so many, got a nosebleed and was visibly tipsy. God knows how much a normal human being has to eat before he get to that point, so you can imagine how much I’d shoved into my body. I did just sick after. Good thing because I don’t think my body could have handled that much guilt.

Speaking of guilt, my binge eating was followed by hysterical crying after I’d purged at least 70% of the Lindor chocolates from my system and the gravity of how much I’d been eating came crashing down on me, coupled with the mood swings I’d been going through. My family wrote it off as me being dramatic and humorously drunk on liquor filled chocolates.

Anyway, I’ve told my friends about this and was practically forced to go see a lady’s doctor. Took a blood test, went for a few scans and am taking medication. These pills work like magic. After the first pill, my periods stopped completely. Still have to be on flow regulators though.

Oh well, at least I know

Prune Juice and Mattresses


Okay, so this is going to be a rant post by a very frustrated self.

What can I say about my life now? A mess, that’s what. I just finish my internship and I’m rotting so much at home, you could sell me off as top grade fertilizer.

Hmm, what else. Oh yes, my sleeping schedule is screwed.



It’s probably because I’ve started eating dinner again. No, no. It’s not that I don’t eat, it’s just that I can’t sleep when I’m full. A part of me is still that worrying fatass I’d been in my past, okay? I still count the hours after I eat and try my best to burn as much calories energy before I sleep. It’s not a bad habit, okay. If anything, it’s actually healthier to not eat dinner (I think), something about allowing your body to better cleanse itself.

I take care of myself in different ways because I know myself.

Instead of sleeping, I read my Kindle till 4 in the morning. Sometimes I contemplate reading a little later so that I may catch the morning’s sunrise.

But I always miss it because I’m always watching for it the wrong way.

You could give me a map, blueprint of my house, Jack Sparrow’s compass and I would STILL miss the sunrise because of some stupid reason like the sun would be blocked by some other building. Or I would sneeze and suddenly it would be like, 12 noon or something.

Since I sleep so late, I wake up late as well. Never for breakfast, just in time for lunch and a few hours before dinner.


I FEEL LIKE SUCH A FAT PIG, literally eating and sleeping all day. Oh don’t get me wrong, at times like this, I’d LOVE to get out of the house. But as everyone should already know, I’m broke. The cafe I’d tried to get a job at didn’t call me back (which I’m actually very thankful for because I simply cannot imagine myself waiting tables) so my bank account is now on this steady decline into oblivion, of which I have no idea how I’m going to remedy than to go out with friends who knows where to spend time but not money.

ANOTHER POINT is that I have a new problem, 10 points to anyone who can guess what.


Yes, let’s talk about 

Something I never thought I’d want with all my heart.


I’ve been trying for days and am THIS CLOSE to shoving a pill (we all know that pill) up my arse and going Horishima all over my toilet bowl. But do you know how mortifying and utterly disturbing it is to voluntarily do…that? No way. So I’d resorted to

Because the bathroom is a fracking battlefield right now

So here I am, waiting, waiting, but still nothing.


I’m getting desperate.


And temperamental.


Because right now I’m literally so full of shit and have things rotting inside my body.

I’m doing everything (actually just eating everything) with tons of fiber, reading up on c-c-constipation (I’m still trying to reach my acceptance on this) and basically doing everything I can to avoid The Pill-ing


Because if my body thinks it’s got anything on me, the answer is


I’m going to get this thing out of my body, it’s going to feel like hell is breaking out of my ass, and my body is going to ENJOY IT. 

Alright. Thanks for allowing me to traumatize you.


Why men love beautiful women.

My theory on why men love beautiful women.

I guess it’s really simple. First, we must ask ourselves.

What makes a beautiful woman?

To me, a beautiful woman is one with good skin, figure, build and hair. 

If you notice, I have not said anything about features, eyes or hair colour. I find it rather redundant. I feel that beauty can be achieved by anyone as long as they work for it. What features you have to the colour of your eyes all depend on your parents, not yourself.

Beauty is achievable by simply taking care of yourself and your body. To me, beauty is a sign of being strong and healthy. Now, let’s look back to the early days. The prehistoric times, when human beings survived from selective breeding. A strong man would most likely choose a strong and healthy woman to have his children. By doing so, children will turn out with better physic and genes, ensuring a relatively stronger race. But how do men then find such a woman?

I’m pretty sure they didn’t go on dates, heck, I’m not even sure if anyone then could form a proper sentence, let alone romance. All that is left is on face value. By my logic, men back then chose their mates solely on face value. On the aspect of bodily figure.

I’m sure being tall has some relevance but I’m stumped for now so I’ll rule it out as a preference. But having a figure on the other hand, indicated the woman’s fitness and stamina. A woman who is well built and slim probably does lots of exercise and work. Back then, there were no such things as a gym, but there are always some small form of hunting for the women. Since there were also no guns or advanced weapons in that era, hunting meant stalking and chasing their prey on foot. Hard work. A woman capable of hunting would prove to be able to take care of young (like being able to feed and clothe them). Of course, she would not be able to hunt big prey by herself, that would be the man’s job. But at least she is able to provide a little for their young if anything was to happen.

As time advances, men also start to take note and appreciate a woman’s appearance. Such an example would be her skin; glowing effect and radiance. Glowing skin indicates good health. It shows that the woman eats well, sleeps well and has a good immune system. All these links back to the male wanting a strong mate that is able to take care of a family and produce stronger children (such as starting out with a good immune system; being a healthy baby) for a more advanced generation(a gene pool tainted with as little heritable diseases) . While we are on the topic of skin, I might as well touch on skin colour. Don’t worry, I’m not being racist.

Why is fair skin so sought after? Fair skin is an indication of status. In medieval times, only women with status had fair skin as they did not have to do laborious work such as farming, marketing, etc. With status comes money and with money comes security. The security of never needing to go hungry and always having a roof over a family’s head. Even in today’s society, fair skin is an indication of status. Ever heard of SK II? An entire beauty regime would put you back a thousand dollars and last you 5 months or less but hell, it makes you extremely fair skinned and radiant. Bird’s nest is another example. It is pricey but is said to be extremely good for the skin. Pregnant woman would binge on it during their pregnancy in hopes for a very fair skinned or fairer skinned baby and I’m pretty sure it works. What about laser treatment for pigmentation? A single zap from the machine would cost you SGD$300 at least and trust me, you will be needing much more than one.

So you see, fair skin is as indication of status. If you are able to afford any of the above, you or your parents probably already have some form of status. Somewhere, somehow, they are known by many people and that is what makes them, dare I say, better than others. Because they have network, connections and ultimately protection and security.

Onward to a woman’s crowning glory. A woman’s hair can tell much about her. If it is dry, frizzy and unkempt, people could be led to think that she doesn’t take care of herself or worst, doesn’t have the means to. It also shows the nutrient intake of the woman. A lady who takes in the proper nutrients would have softer and shinier hair. It all boils down to the health and wellness of the female. If she is very well on the inside, it will always show on the outside. Of course, hair you see on commercials or supermodels are results of not just eating right, but specialized maintenance, such as regular trips to the salon as well as health supplements for hair. Once again, there is a link to the status or finance of the woman. A woman who is able to afford such treatment probably earns good money, comes from a good home or works hard for her own expenditure. All of which are presumably seen as good traits to a male.

Arguably, my form of beauty is not the standard description of beauty in today’s times. It is just my theory of why men are attracted to women at face value. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to get to know all my soldiers before sending them to war, the same way a man isn’t going to figure out how good a woman’s personality is before even going near her. If he looks fit enough for war, he goes. If she looks capable enough to raise a family as a good mother, he marries he will try.

But not all men marry for the sole purpose of a better generation. Times have changed. Now, people marry to have trophy wives/husbands. Sometimes they have kids on accident. Some marry out of love, regardless of race or looks. Some for the merger of company ties. Some men play around, woman too. It is not all for the advancement of the human race anymore.

And the fight for beauty is getting harder. Even with supermarkets with endless aisles of food, a woman’s fight for natural beauty is getting harder. We are never sure if our food is fresh or sprayed with pesticide. Food comes packed, processed and so many things have gone ‘instant’. We must force ourselves to go to the gym or exercise on our own because we are so cooped up at work, with air-conditioning drying out our faces. We may not hunt our mammoths or dodo birds every other day, but healthy living in such an era is getting more and more tedious.

But it does not change the fact that women are meant to be beautiful and to seek beauty. We have the right to be vain (though not overly vain) as it is in our nature. It has be hard wired into our systems from the early days of time and I feel that it is how it should be. However, our vanity is for ourselves only and should never be for the sake of pleasing a male. Our health, wellness and beauty is ours to cherish and uphold for us and us only. We work hard to stay beautiful and our efforts will show gradually. Remember, there is no ugly women on earth, just lazy ones.

With exception of course, to those battling famine and raising their families with endless amounts of love at the same time. You have my respect.