1:34pm

 

Its 11 pm and

I.    Am.      Hungry.

Maria and I came up with the idea that instead of stress eating at night, I should alleviate it through blogging instead so here I’ll give it a shot.

Essentially, I have become a huge stress eater. Instant noodles, mi goreng, ice-cream, ham, cakes, sweet bread, drowned with litres of milk. Whatever is at closest reach I will devour it on top of my three meals. Most of which are happening long past dinnertime…and sadly, instigated by my isolated thoughts.

So I’ve basically become a giant rat rummaging through my kitchen, prying open fridges, sniffing out meat and nibbling on sweets.

I’d love to convince myself that this is a mere consequence of a once-in-a-lifetime pandemic, but I’ll always know, in my most private moments, that this started before the C.O.V.I.D-19

Long before the lockdowns, self-isolations, and mental afflictions of a pandemic.

It began when my dog died.

And I picked up awful coping mechanisms to manage grief.

 

Eating.

  Over Eating.

    Comfort Food.

  Over Comforting.

Crying.

 

Bursting into flames tears in public

 

I would say I am aware of the grieving affecting my everyday activities. If I were to describe it – I would describe it I would compare it to your hunger –  you notice it when your body asks of it but how you choose to fill it is entirely up to you.

1.       You can eat healthy, in the right proportion, OR

2.       Overeat and indulge in your worst eating habits.

My choice has been the latter…and like a werewolf, it seems to manifest worst at night.  There I would lay, alone in bed, lamenting in the dark before the memories of lucky coarse through my veins and the stress envelops me and I become…insatiable. Thus, beginning my midnight scavenge.  

Unfortunately, these moments were not exclusive to bedtime –

I’d cry at lunch during work.

I’d cry on the train to and from work,

I’d cry walking through parks where my hands would feel the ghostly tugs of a dog leash and I’m pulled into a whirl of old memories.

I’ve received some advice on the matter as other share their stories of their lost pet and they are all on the similar lines of -

“Wounds heal”

“Make new memories with new pets”

“Things get better with time”

 

And … they are all …true.

Only problem is that I cannot rush time…merely wait for it to past.

And eventually those stressful moments frequent less,

and less,

and less,

and less

until you’re left with more blissful memories and nostalgic moments.

And you wish to make those memories with something …or someone…new.

 

But I still have one last grievance.

I cannot overcome my nightly mourning.

Something about every night before bed makes me so desperately yearn for the warming touches of my dog by my bed.

 

What better way to end the day than with the unconditional love of your dog?

 

My Valentine

I would be a little too much
and he
a little too little,
I am a thornbush,
bristling from the over attention of my parents,
and he,
a man of million little fatherly stab wounds
and my thorns fit perfectly into them

***

I ..

A sombre sililoquy
hands outstretched through transparent tranqulity, then withdrawn.
It wraps around you, constricting, until I cease resistance and slip into its warmth and comforting familiarity .
Assured, to fall slumber eternal underneath its promised peace... as the
dark veil consumes mysight and breath.

Blue

I woke up at 3pm.

Brushed my teeth, then went to find something to eat only to realise I wasn't hungry. So I laid in bed and stared out my windows to the bleak empty driveway for an hour.

I felt like the sky; dark and gloomy, but no signs of rain. Not a gust nor a trickle.

I feel ...

I had a dream that I was sitting off the edge of a mountain cliff. Dirt, no grass. I stared blankly into the mountain range. Grey, sunless ... and blurred, as though my mind couldn't formulate a complete view, like an unfocused image. There was no cloud, yet there seemed like an intangible pall that made my dream dark. I looked down the dark ditch and pondered my frailty as a human, as man of blood and bone that would fail if I fall. I could feel my arms, spotted slits downstream but no red oozed, no pain radiated. Just colourless and empty. I guess you had to be alive to bleed...

I am

I'm worried what I'm going to do with this degree. Whether or not I'm falling behind on this invisible check list of commerce standards.

I'm worried I no longer care. Not just about studies but my also my health and mind. I just don't care and I'm really beginning to forget what it feels like.

I'm worried that I'm sick, in some shape or form, I feel sick. I'm tired. I'm tired. I'm so tired.

I'm angry.

I'm disappointed, with myself and all that surrounds it. I've given up and I think for a long time I denied that. 
I've given up and a small part of me believes that I would spring to my feet with jubilance. I give up, I give up.

Week 1 vietnam

Vietnam

In no particular order

Our arrival was met with a lovely, excited and cheerful crowd. They greeted us with a cheerful group hug and celebratory drinks. But not before we drown is ginger water because its anti-bacterial properties

Everything is just slowly making sense. It's  like a huge cultural revelation to finally understand why my mum is the way she is. Especially her iron fist and lectures but more importantly all her unreasonable and superstitious behaviour. You just don't get it, until you get it. But it's not completely anyone's fault that the adults choose to keep some history hidden for lawful reasons. So there's a few head turns here and there.

I also enjoy talking to adults more than my cousins mainly because I pull off the 'golden-child' + 'with a little sass' persona much better than a 'cool foreign guy' ...or 'friend' for short. Haha. The female cousins arnt my type. They are traditionally raised. No hint of rebellion or feminism here. They're very well disciplined so it's hard to relate because I argue back all time. Every sentence from my mum is a statement up for debate but to them it is like the law.

.

The first male cousin I met here was a huge breathe of fresh air. His English may not be top notch but he knew enough to be sarcastic and pessimistic. We both bitched about family duties and the difficulty of college. He's studying to be an English teacher but was thinking of doing PR. I thought for a second he would peel off his face and maria would reveal herself. He's basically me but in Vietnam and fat. He never shares his personal life with his family and his schools schedule is about 6am-10pm which includes times hanging with friends. So he mostly spends his time alone with his computer or his friends and only comes out of his room for food. I hope things work out for him.

After I little dnm, I found out that he is actually gay! He kept steering the conversation towards my rainbow DP on Facebook and kept asking about the LGBT community in Australia. He began to emphasized the struggles of a gay child in Vietnam, with conservative families. His parents know but they're in denial about it. They are the -"gay is a mental sickness that needs to be cured"- kind of parents.

Temple

Bam. Nosebleed. Probably because I've entered holy grounds. Buddha knows what's up. 

My mum seems at home here. I can see how this was her environment growing up. Prepping food, cleaning Surviving but more important attending to the alpha: grandmama. She's turning 80 soon. It was her birthday on the 4th. Everybody here is 

Everybody else seems flippant at their parts but my mother? No, she does it firmly and fast. I thought "perhaps they've just done it for too long" but I realised that she is just as vivacious at her chores at home. Only difference here is that she has company while doing them. 

Speaking of chores, the values here are also very traditional. Around lunchtime the women were cleaning and preparing food while the males were... Actually no where to be found. So I was just alone at the dinner table blogging for abit. It's quite hard to find an appropriate time to sit and blog.

She's the 3rd oldest child but something tells me she acts the oldest. The way she talks or commands everybody else and how they follow her instructions. Just before as we aboard the taxi my mum suggested that all the kids (me and my cousin) to sit at the back. In my head I took it as a 'suggestion' but really I want to sit at the front with my sister but my younger cousin nudged me and whispered "quickly or else we'll get into trouble!"

Sisters

. She and older aunt would pick on the youngest. 

It's super weird that they address each other by their number (eldest to youngest) rather than actually saying sister or a name for that matter

Grandmas' birthday

Mom cried. Food fine. Vegetarian. Grandma was adorable. The most interesting thing the whole time though was just gathering stories from my grandparents. My grandfather (father side) is very different to my dad. My dad is quiet, humble while he is more loud and demanding. He's 85, smoker, and with an attitude of an alcoholic because I don't think he actually drinks anymore. 

"I am Master. Everyone's job tonight is to drink!"

He says that he and my can no longer talk because my dad is not talkative. He says I'm like him very much and doesn't like it. I say that I'm very talkative, especially when it comes to arguing with my mum.

Quite a few people here are surprised at how well I understand and speak Vietnamese. A lot of words do tend to get lost during conversations but I pick out the main ones and reply the best I can. I say that most of my vocab comes from numerous arguments with my mother. 

Beach

Suddenly vietn didn't seem so bad when I am able to sit under a nice Straw shade, sun baking, and being fed fish and crabs (because I don't know how to peel them). What's more is that, the elders seem to acknowledge my more Australian life. Because when I said I didmt know how to peel for crab shells she was very kind and insisted that she peel the plate of crabs to feed me. I insisted that she doesn't need to but you can't argue with old people. Their main purpose is to feed you till you explode <3.

Random thoughts

-motor cycle rides are fuuuunnn. So free and opem and windy and relaxing. But at the same time stressful because you feel like you'll crash at every turn.

- love not wearing a seatbelt anywhere

- the food is pretty good too. Kinda given that traditional food would be better in their home country.

-I may actually get fatter :/

- I realised that when I wrap the money bag around my waist and my love handles ate it up. :(

- mums friend is pretty wealthy. She has this like 4 story hotel/ house thing. Like it probably started as a hotel and she bought it and made it into her house. She also has a lot of koi fish and swan ornaments. Also her son is buffed.. Offft thank god for humid weather!

- speaking of the weather, it's quite bearable. Wasn't too hot or anything. Then again Ive been staying closer to the coast so there's no pollution and more windy. 

- now that I've entered Saigon central ( I think ) I can really feel the pollution suffocating my lungs and stinging my eyes.

- karaoke was very fun. My cousins can sing ... Very well oO in Vietnam anyway. It was quite intimidating but fun to dance nonetheless. There was English there so that's good

- seafood is delicious and cheap. Snail is really good but the thought of them gets me ugh like they're so nice but ugh but so delicious but ugh

- this bun bao (pork bun) is amazing

- noodles are amazing too but probably because of the MSG.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm msg

Umma just post this now

Should've taken photos ey 

Week 1

Airborne

If I wasn't such a clutz, then I would have a tablet to type on but nope, I forgot to turn on the power switch when I was 'charging' it. So I'm basically bored as fuck on the plane with the many voices in my head to keep me company.

Ugh and this little strap across my waist is so annoying. I think it's called a 'seatbelt'? Pfft I barely wear it In cars what makes you think I'll wear it now? LOL

There's also a little TV screen in front of me and since it doesn't have anything worth watching it basically acts as a mirror. My face is so fat omfg and I can see all my blemishes. It's just staring right back at me with no mercy. 

Just watching the wings of the plane shaking makes me nervous. I just can't shake the feeling away. As though I'm not going on a vacation. It reminded me when andrew comforted me. To be honest, when I shut the door on your last visit, it phased me quite abit. Like the thought of not seeing you for over a month saddens me. Like a "I wish you well but I hope you drop a soap or... So that one day you may fully appreciate... ;)"

LOL OK STFU! 

Haha but I will miss everyone.

The view is also quite nice.

Which went well with my little fun station.

- house because I love him

- 'slice' because i love butterflies

- and an Australian neck rest, to remind me of where I came from. LOL

Time for a nap.

Vietnam

4am -

* currently on hoang do to my sisters house to pick her up. Apparently mum convinced her to come because I might be sad over there.

This made me worry about Emma because I just don't find my brother in law a very independent figure. Although when we arrived he gave me $200 to spend as a gift which was nice. He loves buying my love or something. I don't blame him, I'm not the most approachable being in this family but money will get my attention. 

Which got me thinking, a lot of people do tend to give me money. Even my cousins boyfriend's mother gave me money to spend in Vietnam. When I got my ATAR, my sister and brother gave me money to congratulate me. Oh and my dad because in reality he only spends money on two things - me or the dog.

Oh and weirdest thing to happen this morning was when my dad gave me a goodbye hug which is a first. He's not a distant dad rather he's just quiet and keeps all opinions to himself. 

He was really worried for me about this trip. He kept asking if I didn't want to go then to tell my mum but I know that'll just create more problems because my mum really wants this. My dad kept saying he doesn't approve and that he got no say about this trip. But I reassure him that the worse case scenario is that I just get super bored.

Twenty Fourteen

Hold on and don't give up

One of the few lines that was constantly rehearsed in my head this year. I tried relentlessly day after day after day. I felt my body falling rigid as a slouched and walked along the walkways towards uni. I no longer held my head up when walking. Instead I stared at my feet. One after another, One after another, baby steps, slow steps, walking...crawling.

But I was not sad, angry or depressed. I refused - refused to blame the world or let myself be brought down by the once so heavy thoughts that clouded my mind. It seemed, at the time, that the world was painted in two colours. Some things became lighter but most got darker. I had to be smart about this, I had to be real about this. I knew I wouldn't last with this mindset. Open, whimsical but vulnerable. An open-heart is a dead heart. So I decided to look admidst the black and white, to find something, anything that could confer in me hope that the my world will get better. That the world I live in will reward me for the work I do. Optimism has it's ups and 'ups'. It worked, for awhile, until I realised that this world simply owes you nothing. 

The first semester past like leaves in Autumn. I looked at other students and thought to myself "How many of us here actually want to be here? Who is making something for themselves right in this moment because if there is nothing eternal to be made here, then why does it matter?". I did the homework, made friends, worked in groups and rushed home alone each time. 

It drained my will to do anything that required control and effort. I no longer wanted to do things that required me to be responsible. I no longer wanted to 'have to' do anything because all my conviction laid surviving commerce. I laid in bed most of time, resting, bidding for more time. Time to think and gather my thoughts about how to approach a world where the 'old me' would not have survived. I had to be smarter about this. I had to change, mentally, physically, emotionally, precariously 

I refused - refused to simply hold on. To not give up but to also get up.

Twenty fourteen

A forgetful year, a forgiving year

After a year of doing science courses, I knew that I would eventually have to face the wrath of commerce. I was very afraid of how it might turn out. I constantly kept asking myself;

What's commerce? What's it like? What's at the end of a commerce degree? But the question that held most value was "Can I do it?"

Investment banking, accounting, corporate financial analysis, what does this all mean? I sat and ponder a few possible synonyms; money, boring, grey suits. I was afraid that somewhere down the line, I'd 'lose myself'. How does one lose themselves? Who am I to believe that some part of me would be less in a world I've never experienced. 

But I am a young adult, afraid and lonely. Still driven by hormones and an untainted imagination. I wouldnt know whats best for me. Am i suppose to? 

The first time i tried the commerce course back in semester one 2013, it took only a week for me to panic and switch to my science courses. I panicked and became so fearful of what i might've gotten myself into. The unfamiliar jargon made me flee like a pigeon from a child in a park. But this was not a park.

It was a passageway to a dark abyss, where you're continually blinded my the golden sparkles of money ... And they've never shined brightly in my life.

A warm heart and a cheeky smile, the things that use to really enlightened me. Now, somehow replaced with a huge wallet in his pock---- no wait, thats not a wallet..

Chill

It's weird feeling the heat of sunny photos.

People going out, having fun and getting wet because the weather is finally getting warmer

But a part of me will always feel winter forever.

R3: Life

Before bed #5

• Just thinking about the future and the idea of 'getting a job' makes me question its ultimate purpose...my purpose
• The idea with skills and offering... its just another way to serve  this world. If you dedicate your life to serving then what is left...for you? I guess you do technically get something in return but what if you don't want what they offer.
• Take away that purpose..and what is left for you?
• Why do we live? Who do we live for? Is it for Ourselves or the world?
• If not, then the other option is against the world... and that just feels like a road worth travelling

Depression. Believed I had it, Believed I've beaten it. But there's one scenario will always cross my mind. Imagine depression as a dark abyss in the ground. Silent and devoid of all light. Those who lay there are suffering but unable to cry for help. The logical approach would be stand above, reach down with light and guide those back towards the surface, and out of the darkness. But what if you were to travel down there yourself and personally seek out all those that lay there. Wouldn't that help more? Viewing from above does not help everyone, but rather...it keeps you safe...

I saw myself standing. Lost and confused in a dark plateau. I stood and listened to the cries of the suffering echo in my head as my heart bled of sympathy. My legs weakened as I fell to my knees and clenched my chest. But The pain I endure would save nobody, and nobody would save me. My mind and body slowly faded as I crawled deeper and deeper into the abyss. And so I must stand up...turn back and walk. Walk away, walk away... until a wave of warmth scorched my face. I stared...blankly at the light, hoping that some sanctuary lies ahead. But guilt immediately swept across and landed heavily on my mind  ...  Guilt of whom my back chooses to face. But the peaceful silence was short lived. A weak heart murmurs in my chest, and beats as a reminder of who I am. So I marched forward and I kept marching so long as there's blood still running in my veins...

It should've ended there..but why doesn't it feel like it?

Snapshot

ice bucket challenge.. you know what irks me the most from it... people who comment "what a waste of water" or post anything or say anything similar. And it just makes me think that they are just some pretentious snob who thinks they are fucking better than everyone because they believe a pouring bucket over their head is stupid and a waste.

Then they've missed the point. It whole purpose was to raise awareness which reaps in the money. Now, millions of people are familiar with the Letters ALS...it'll be so popular that the next Miss Universe will replace the phrase "World Peace" with "Cure for ALS!!!". WOO YEAG THE WORLD JUST GOT DUMBER AND HAPPIER ....and I bet half these people sneering at the ice bucket challenge didn't even donate.

WELL WAKE UP PEOPLE...This whole world is based on profit! There is no moral absolution. If you're so picky about a waste bucket of water, why won't you fill your own bucket and run and give it to someone who needs it then! BUT OH YOU WON"T DO THAT?...how boo fucking surprise!

UGH. what the fuck am i ranting about

Libido: Still high
Status: Still Single
Hate for Humanity: CAPSLOCK ON

Anyways Uni is less stressful this semester (ignoring this very moment) since there's less home assigment and more weekly quizzes and tests instead. So I basically promised myself that I'd properly study for them and keep up with notes (which I am currently in the midst of so i'm pretty happy with myself). Anatomy is great but a bore at times, Finance is new and interesting but too new I don't know anything, Marketing is just Stupid, Accounting is alright because the workload is do-able but rumors say that the finals will slaughter your balls off and eat them for breakfast with buttered toast and scrambled eggs.

Anyways I miss my friends because I realised there's this one thing that they don't make me do, that I tend to do with strangers which is AMOUNT OF FUCKS GIVEN LIKE WHOLLY SHIT MY SYMPATHY IS RESERVED FOR THE PRIVILADGE SO STFU ABOUT YOUR LIFE STORY!...

"I may look like an angel but I'm sure the hell ain't"

Before Bed #4

The trouble was that he was without imagination. He was young and quick and alert in the things of life, but only in the things, and not in the significance. It was fifty degrees below zero, he judged. That impressed him as being cold and uncomfortable, but it did not lead him to mediate upon his frailty as a creature of temperature, and upon human frailty in general able only to live within narrow limits of head and cold; and from there on it did not lead him to the hypothetical field of immortality and human's place in the universe.

Before bed #3

It’s important to understand that we’re always committed to something. If it’s not success out on our own, it’s staying safe in the comfortable success of someone else. If we’re not committed to creating our opportunities, we’re committed to floating around, hoping, waiting, and wishing for circumstance.

Are we more committed to dreaming it or doing it?

U n i

My thoughts on Uni

It's an obligatory. A rite of passage for every fortunate and capable child. So how I was raised. It would seem that once you graduate, you can get a job and that is that. An era to be hopeful. To be stable and independent. Then, from there, find happiness.

But what irks most, is the most recent thought, and more popular at this present time, is... What if I could find happiness in my work and become something much greater.

And it troubles me, that there is this other path that I could take and I'm choosing not to.
But I've made my choice and I keep making that choice everyday; to not chase...elusive dreams...
Dreams that have disintegrated in my hands long ago but can still smell the smoldering ash. 

Advice from Sister: Do it now. You're might need it, you might not. But you are still young and able to do uni. As you grow older, your patience for studying grows thinner and you might not be study anymore.

You've already done it for 12+ years might as well power through 3 more intense years.

Nice moment from Simpsons.

Another thing I believe worth fighting for. An adequate yet superior future for my children. While every now and then I would say "I'm not going to have children" I think my mind has made it's choice, whether or not I've full comprehend it.

For Family, both future and past.

But the family of the future, consists of the family from the past. My mother and My father, both who have worked hard for me and I'll try to repay them the best way I can. But...true parents let their children be happy and free...even if it leaves them behind? ... especially when it leaves them behind. Where does my moral obligations stand. Ten steps ahead of me or Ten steps behind me.

I am tired. In the meantime, let's just get really really wasted.

Before Bed #2

Just because it's an alternative, doesn't mean it's the solution.

Just because the reward is delayed, doesn't mean it won't be worth it.

Who are you?

Dear You 1

You make me feel completely and utterly drop dead handsome.

Dear You 2

You make me feel completely and utterly safe, secured and warm

Dear You 3

You make me feel completely and utterly powerful.

Dear You 4

You make me feel completely and utterly comedic, a fool.

Dear You 5

You make me feel completely and utterly helpless

Dear You 6

You make me feel completely and utterly...real.

Dear You 7

You make me feel completely and utterly... lost in love

Before sleep thoughts

... Piece by piece until you've become a shadow of your former self...