Won't you, please.

How this plays with me. LET'S BE DRAMATIC-TOC. It's like the kind of thing that remains cement, and it doesn't matter what happens to you, you know it'll remain as it has, if not better. I wish I could keep a tally of everything. Like how many bad decisions I have made. I love saying "decisions, decision!". It's fun. Today I wore new dark wash jeans that bled everywhere. (I) Then I tried to use a nail trimmer to remove my rock hard nail polish/glue, whatever you call it, and ended up cracking a chunk off so I have uneven thumbs, and I refuse to cut the other cause my thumb nail needs the elongating (chubbybubby). (II) But my god, stupid nail polish won't come off so I'm going to have half green nails soon, anticipate that people, it'll be... een. And right now I realised that making up an entire industry project is proving difficult, maybe using real experiences would've been better. (III) Also, I just ate a shitload of dried cranberries; my new love affair, and I'm about to vomit fructose. Like eating it twice, even better. But dried mangoes still beats your shrivelled, maroon face. (IIII) Okay, I've wasted my night shopping. Collared shirts are the best thing ever. And I need me some new reading material. Suggestions please my bubbalooossss. I've been meaning to look for a few books on cults and zen, but besides that I'm as empty as my ambition in life. K COOLZ SHEE YA LATERZ.  "...and you have the ability to just talk about nothing". Yep, sure do. Not something to stick my chin up and boast about though.

Festival of Dangerous Ideas.

 

This is bloody amazing. So much blood rushing to my heart, and I still have 4 solid days of waiting. Noone in my life understands but on the night of the 1st, I'll be in a room with 2100 other people who do or want to, and it won't matter that I'll come out not knowing any more people than I went in with, but I'll come out clutching the fact that this many people have been touched like I was, and it will be fantastical.

Two left shoes.

Finding something I want to buy is perceived as a shock every time. I'm never the person who will say things like "I saw this dress that was amazing. It's $460 but I'm going to buy it, cause the cut is great and flattering and yada yada". You'll probs catch me saying "yada yada" but that's about it. I don't know why, I don't know why. Aren't girls supposed to be born with this innate desire to spend money on renewing their physical selves? I'm not good at playing this game at all, I just make do (like a boy). At times I think "aye that's nice. I wouldn't mind owning it." but I remain forever rational when faced with an item and a capable wallet. The "I can get away with not buying this" thought always shoots through me like a dreadful rainbow, and I'm reminded. I don't spend unneccesary money on things like clothes, accessories and shoes. Perhaps my mother's educating me has transformed my brain in judging everything by its value. And being 'value-for-money' is not enough. You have to be able to get a block of gold for 20 cents before "it was cheap" is a valid reason to buy something. But ever since my little mental breakdown (this basically arose from trying to clean my room), I chucked everything away. & I do not exaggarate that I have less than 20 wearable items left in my wardobe. Every time I open it up, there are no more surprises of old, forgotten pieces. In fact, there's nothing. It's oddly alarming, and it's taken a while to hit me. But when I wander about my room and look at the hollowness of my wardobe, I feel like it's threatening me to stray the streets as a sad, nude girl. And it's terrible, y'know? Because I know I've always been terrible at creating passable first impressions, and I'm sure not being able to dress myself will help that problem in any way. When I was fob I felt like I was framed within a multi-layered, pink-bows-and-cutesy-shit-filled, fake-branded fence that guided me with what to wear. Plus going to China every year to hoard made it even easier. But now. I don't like anything. Actually, I know what I like but these things don't go together and don't come across often. To my infinite sadness, my galaxy leggings, giraffe shirt or apple print dress do not go well with..(m)any items. I mean if I had my way, I'd wear them all together but that's not socially acceptable and even to me, that doesn't look good. & to make those items look actually cool, I'd have to try hard and find things of the appropriate colour, length, cut, texture..and I wouldn't do that. We should just all get uniforms, we're all the same anyway.

Fashion is really not that big a deal. There, I said it. I keep coming across fashion bloggers and enthusiasts ranting about the importance of fashion, and how pretty clothes = acquiring meaning of life, and how people who don't care about dressing or dress like everyone else, should just go play the hanging game. And to that, I say screw your face! Yeah, it is nice to look nice, and it is nice to have your physical self be a representation of what you aspire to be, but it's hardly ever linear in this way. So while everyone's hyping up fashion as an art form, us commoners can just chill in our abercrombie hoodies and forget about that, or at least I will. Yeah, I not-so-secretly wish I had the willpower and coordination to colour my body in pretty, pretty materials, but in the end it's just looking pretty. I don't really have a point except that I don't own any clothes, and it's weird how that's affecting me.

TATA.

1DIMENSION.

IMAGINE THAT THIS LAND OF SCRIBBLES DOESN'T EXIST. IMAGINE THAT THERE ARE NO BLOGS. IMAGINE THAT ALL THAT YOU SEE OF ME IS ME, AND NOTHING MORE. IMAGINE THIS WITHOUT ME, AND ME WITHOUT THIS. FORGET THAT THIS IS ALSO ME. YES, THERE'S DIFFERENCE BUT IT'S UNREACHABLE. THERE IS NO EXPRESSION OUTSIDE CONVERSATION BETWEEN US. BALANCE IS RESTORED. YOU SEE WHAT I SHOW YOU. THERE IS NO JUDGEMENT. Stop. Just stop and consider.

Don't even make sense.

Love of the coconut.

I once read a line in a book that has stuck with me, which often happens. I love that feeling. I love how much you can understand a few words, and how much they can tell you. But anyways, context first. Something about a woman and how she was in a carpark, and she called her husband to talk about something trivial, then she went on and suddenly in that phone call, she realised she asked for a divorce. It shocked herself. She talks about how she never imagined she'd be the type of person who would do that, and how people always dismiss one-off occurrences like these. Then she says "“Sometimes we have to be judged on our one-offs". I don't know why this resonates with me so much. I just feel there's so much truth in this. We're constantly dismissing the one-offs that present inconsistencies in our characters. We convince ourselves and other people that it's a one-off; it carries no meaning, and no representation of ourselves. Somehow, stand alone from us. There is such a fear of inconsistency. When did people start understanding inconsistencies as a forbidden interference in our identity creation? How do we become truer to ourselves by establishing we're purple people hence push out every single other colour from the colour spectrum? Why do we need to placate ourselves in this way? Inconsistency is so interesting, I feel like that is the inch we are able to thrive in, the open space that encourages more. 

Our most common way of ridiculing inconsistency is through shouting "YOU HYPOCRITE". I actually love talking about how much of a hypocrite I am, and usually people don't like to listen because:
- Inconsistent people are shit, and hypocrisy is not cool.
- Stories about loving and hating trivial things are boring.
Let's just use food as an example. I used to hate avocado, coconut, eggplant and the worst chocolate bars in the world were bounty and cherry ripe. Now when I study a menu, avocado and eggplant spark a fond, cuddly affection, I drink/eat at least 2 coconuts a week (and I've grown to love coconut water, coconut flesh, coconut milk, coconut candy, shredded coconut..basically, in any form, I'm keen), and bounty is my favourite choc. bar (out of the generic Mars choice, and of course you can argue this is an extension of my coconut affair but my love for cherry ripe is also pretty astounding..okay crap, just remembered that it contains coconut too). I also used to hate eating a lot of veges raw, but now I love it. Maybe I just love coconut, and maybe vegetarianism means I have to mix it up a bit..but still. Okay how about shoes! When gladiators were first out, my reaction was a facial that would've made people jump back and scream "BUCKET, PLEASE, ANYONE?!" (about-to-vomit face). Then I loved them. Then I saw ugg boots and scoffed, then I bought a couple of pairs that never left my feet during many months overseas. Then I saw clogs and was like "oh my god, they're like..crocs but not plastic", then I bought 2 pairs and want more. Pretty. Okay, now I sound desperate to prove I'm a hypocrite. Also, it wasn't very interesting and now I understand why people don't listen. Gerrate. 

You get my point though, right? Yes, okay, GOOD. Happy times, you and me. 

Bye lovey.

Interrobang.

Best punctuation mark ever.

Conversion.

I've lost. I've become a bag person, just going to accept the fact that I'm going to become one of those annoying people who spend all their money on pieces of well constructed leather, hardware and extreme attractiveness.

My bag wish list:
Givenchy 'Pandora' & 'Nightingale'


Alexander wang 'Emile' tote in dove grey & 'Eugene' shoulder bag.

Longchamp 'Gatsby' satchel in patent black & sun, and clay exotic.

Proenza schouler satchels

Kate Moss for Longchamp 'Glastonbury' & 'Gloucester'

YSL 'Lucky chyc' tote & 'Tribute' tote in leopard.

Chloe 'paraty' with python print finish.

Okay I can't be bothered posting any more. Hah, my bag crushes are so predictable:
- textured lambskin/pebbled calfskin/python print
- short strap + shoulder strap
- silver toned hardware
- colour: yellow, coral, deep blue, beige, black black black

Givenchy bags are so perfect. If I had the money, I'd blow a tiny proportion (tiny because I am that rich) of it on all the givenchy bags I am lusting after with no hope of buying, then I'd buy everything alexander wang has ever designed, and I'd only ever wear proper materials like silk, silk, silk, and then I'd be the most fulfilled and content girl in the materialistic world. 

Ugh, this is all so shameful.