450: Freedom

450: Freedom

This is…4 days late, but I’m free! I have been using the freedom well to cultivate my new life. Sadly it has meant that I haven’t had much time to post on my blog. So what I’m thinking of doing is revamping the style and writing more poetry and flash fiction. Of course, I’m doing the NaNoWriMo and I am struggling to reach the word count (even though it’s been the first week). Sigh.

I love life now! I’m not depressed anymore (I think)! So yay there. I’m thinking of linking my Instagram to my blog, but I’m not sure. I’ll think about it.

Lots of lunches and fun activities with friends. I’m actually having a life.

 

~ Serendipitous

 

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449: 99 Problems

449: 99 Problems

Sigh.

2 sleeps until freedom, but I have 99 problems on my plate. Life struggles, personal struggles, struggles struggles struggles…

Well, I am doing NaNoWriMo this year and I have a fairly good idea. Well, we’ll see how it goes. I guess this is an update from my life. Once I’m actually free I will be posting a lot more on my blog and just making it look nice.

 

~Serendipitous

 

448: Baobei

448: Baobei

In Chinese, this word can have several meanings, such as “baby” or “treasured one”. In my family, this was my special nickname, and for me it meant that I was “the treasure of the family” (clearly¬†not the spoiled, youngest child of the family).

This is probably unjustified, but I feel somewhat sad and offended that a lot of LGs are using it to address their favourite younger friends – for some reason, it detracts from the special meaning this word has given me. Of course, I probably don’t have any reason to feel the way I do, but it doesn’t feel too good seeing the term thrown around and, in a sense, bastardised. At home, I still feel the love my parents and sister have for me when they call me “baobei”, but knowing other people are using it for their friends, eurgh…it pisses me off haha

 

~ Serendipitous

447: Not Quite an Autobiography

447: Not Quite an Autobiography

5 days out from Paper 1. I think it’s time to do some work on it, lol. But all I can think of is what I want to write for NaNoWriMo. I’ve had an idea for a while. Maybe putting my life together in a non-sequitur fashion, and make up some stuff along the way to make it seem more interesting or something. Pulling out the best and worst and leaving out some of the mundane. I really haven’t thought about it enough. I want to try to write it like one never-ending dream. My dream. Which reminds me, I want to keep a dream journal after HSC. Not that I don’t. I should include some of my dreams on the blog or in the story then. That would be interesting. I’ve been told that they’re extremely vivid. Like they’re inside the mind of a child.

A child? That I am, well, not quite, since I’m eighteen, but still. I feel that way.

 

~ Serendipitous

P.S. The plan for after HSC is to post at least once a day about my exciting life and all the things I’m going to do. Not a day is going to go by that I won’t be on my laptop for at least ten minutes though, lol.

 

446: Him

446: Him 

Every guy I’ve ever had a crush on, no matter how fleeting, pops into my head when I think, “him”. I like to think I don’t forget faces, when in reality I’ve probably forgotten more than a few. Then they are faceless, so I don’t know whether they were figments of my imagination or what, but there they are, a flurry of a montage in my mind when I go to sleep or think of “him”.

I decided not to ask Bumblebee out. He’s a good kid, but we were in a relationship before and it wasn’t all that meaningful to either of us then. Mostly because when I asked him about it, he had forgotten many things we’d said to each other then, so I dropped it. I would prefer to be single until university starts, to do things on my own or with my friends…but mostly alone. I think I surprised myself when I made that decision, considering how extroverted I am. For the record, I’m an ENFJ and my personality test said I was 93% extroverted and 7% introverted. I don’t think I’ll be looking into being that 7% for the four months I hopefully will be spending in my home city before I fly away, but I’ll definitely tap into it a lot more than I realised. The funny thing is because before March this year, I was thinking that I would be spending a lot more time being close with my now ex. So plans have changed. I wish I could delete the blog so I could start over with new memories, but I guess that’s the point of keeping it – so I can look back and see what kind of person I was. Maybe a new guy will come along into my life and I will gush about him here. What I’m terrified of is his finding my blog, reading my old posts, thinking I’m a psycho and leaving. I guess it’s not that simple when you become an adult, but it could happen.

So I’m debating whether I should show him the blog. Well I mean, for whoever I fall in love with next. Do I show him my past? I guess there’s some danger involved in doing that. But what can I say, it’s about 4 am in the morning. I don’t really know at this point. But in case I do, I just want to let my future boyfriend know that I love him, I can be independent away from your love, but I will always be there for you if you need me because that’s what any good girlfriend does. We won’t talk about serious stuff like marriage or finances unless you think it’s appropriate to do so. Sounds stupid, but I’m just trying to look out for my older self I guess. I fell in love, had my heart broken, fell into some sort of haze for the better part of how many months….May to now. The better part of half a year. Man, I can’t wait until I’m older and I look back and just think, I loved him. For nearly eight months, I did love him. But now I don’t, and I love this guy. Whoever he may be, I hope I deserve him. I’ve had a tricky teenage life and I would love nothing more than to go into my adult years thinking I’m still a teenager and thinking I can do better than what I did last month. It’ll take some time to myself without exams to give myself things to do. Well, what I do know, I’ve got a bucket list pushing 100 things to do…so…

Goodbye to all the boys (and men…?) in my life who I ever gave a sparing thought to, who ever I gave the time of day. I think of you still, occasionally, blindsided by some random trigger, your faces all the same, your voices blending into a mix of indistinguishable mush. In a way you’ve made me who I am today. You may not realise it if I never gave some sort of confession, but if I did, then maybe you think of me occasionally, even if you didn’t like me. Because I sure as hell made an impact on you somehow. That’s just the kind of person I am.

 

~ Serendipitous

445: Finish Line

445: Finish Line

First, a post about me before I start to wander off.

9 days to go. I’m at the age where I’m legally allowed to drink and be served alcohol at bars. This is actually irrelevant to anything except for the fact that it also means I’m at the age where I would start to turn to alcohol as a way to escape from my responsibilities and to escape from the demands of life. I have thought about it a lot. See, the ironic thing is, am I brave enough to raid my parents’ liquor cabinet/s when one of them is in my room? I didn’t even notice beyond my eighteenth birthday except when my mum brought it up. Every time I walk into my room, I’m walking past it. Do I raid it or not?

I haven’t touched it except to clear some room in there to put away my old math notes. I don’t know what kind of liquor is in there. Of course I would make them feel disappointed if I were to drink now. But would I make myself disappointed? I don’t know. I look at those bottles and think, does it make any difference what’s inside them because I’m tricking myself into thinking that when I’m a lot older, alcohol is going to be my escape? What has been my escape from reality since the day I was born?

I’ve never been so terrified in my life, not even of a spider, and those are momentary shreds of terror that go away when the spider is no longer in a position to harm me. I asked my dad to drive me home from physics tutoring. This would be normal, but I never go home from tutoring with my parents. I always go somewhere else. Maybe to study, maybe to wander around and think about my life, but I never go home first. So going home first, sitting in that god-awful vehicle of his, panicking about my future, worried about my future…I cannot tell you how it felt to be sitting there not being able to do something about my future. Well, everything else had already been taken care of I guess. I’ve filled out all the forms I needed to. I did all the internal assessments. So here’s the finish line I have to cross. Three weeks of external exams and then I’ll be free for four months. And then I’ll have plenty of time to think about my life, to realise what I want, whatever. I don’t know what’s more terrifying, not doing well in externals or needing to turn my life around again. I guess I’m new to this, thinking that if at first I don’t succeed, I have to pack my bags.

I can tell you I was nervous, incredibly nervous. The prospect of flying up the country and living somewhere where it is pretty much summer all year round, cheap entertainment, new friends, independence, studying something I fell in love with when I was seven…it’s too much. It’s dangling right in front of me. The only way it gets snatched away at this point is if I didn’t do well enough in my external exams. I get angry thinking why I hadn’t done well the rest of the year, though. I could have done something to stop it. We could have agreed to be together November this year. When I think of him now, I think, “piece of shit”. Because while he might not be to the rest of the world, he is to me, and he hasn’t returned my diaries. That part of my soul I gave him thinking he would accept me when all he did was put them behind a cupboard and never give a word in there a read. So I guess I didn’t give him anything, in retrospect, if he hasn’t read any of it. Not that I can care now. I should’ve asked him to wait for me, because if he got tired of waiting, then at least I could’ve avoided the heartbreak. I don’t blame him directly, but maybe he was one of the factors for my on-and-off bouts of depression. I visited my mother’s GP. When she asked my mum why I was depressed, she said I had broken up with a boyfriend. Ah yeah, that’s tough as a teenager. It really is, when he’s technically your real first love. And you’ll always have a soft spot for him even though he’s a piece of shit, because he connected with you on a level you don’t know if someone else can. Not that he will care again, because apparently he’s seeing someone now. Well as soon as their formal is over, I can move on for good. I don’t have to know. A lot of us will see a lot of people in our lifetimes.

This is dragging into the next post, so I guess I’ll go there now.

 

~Serendipitous

For the record, I’m not drunk. The last time I drank was on a Wednesday before trials. I don’t remember the exact date, but it was great.

444: 15 Days Left?

444: 15 Days Left?

Hi!

It’s been a while since I updated. All I’ve been doing is studying. Literally. Maybe talking to my friends in the group chat but other than that, literally studying. Wow. I’ve never studied so hard in my life. I love it, but at the same time I want my freedom already. Just an update in my life.

Luncheon and actual graduation is going to take a while to write up, but I made dot points somewhere so I can expand on them after HSC is over. And after HSC is over I have a bunch of things to do! Hopefully I can document them in as much detail as possible on my blog or make vlogs (OMG??!) and post them here, although that would mean revealing my face…hmmmmm.

Then I’m doing NaNoWriMo. Wondering what my story concept should be and whether I should actually just get a novel published (self-published or actual publishing company, I haven’t decided). Of course, I can’t just have trash published so I gotta think about it carefully.

And think about how to go about asking Bumblebee out nicely…hahaha maybe I’ve partially done that already. But if I’m not going to be here next year for university, it might just be better to remain friends.

Shit so many things to say, so little time. And actually, this time is so little time. There was a time when there were 686 days to go until the HSC. Now there is 15. Fuckk.

 

~ Serendipitous