Hello October!

After my first presentation doing master degree, I felt like half of the world's weight is off of my shoulders. I was barely able to withstand the journey in the tunnel to reach the hazy light. But I made it! And I'll always, always be thankful for someone who's willing to be there by my side. Even when I'm bawling my eyes out due to stress and volatile hormones.

But now I'm swarmed with probably 8 assignments on hand, plus minus. This is overwhelming! Every day I think of the many things on my to-do list and the first thing I feel like doing is take a nap. So productive of me. 

So far, life's treating me pretty well. I'm the kind of girl that wants to be one independent woman who works her way up in her life without anyone's help. But when you throw in Aaron Boo, you get me standing on weak knees. You can call it dependent or clingy but he's my weakness, my place of comfort and my happy place. #cheesy

With a little internet mishap and drama in my new rented house, I'm pleased to say I overcome it. *flex biceps* Of course I did. In the process, I probably cried buckets of stressful tears and some loose taps dripping tears constantly. Oh well, it might be due to hormones. #excuses

Anyway, there was something interesting, worth enough to mention, I guess. The "wedding" and "marriage" terms keep popping up to us and they keep taking over our topics of discussion. Partly contributed with him being one of the best men in his friend's wedding, and many weddings seem to have fallen on that weekend.

Honestly, I'm not freaked out by the fact that we talk our about marriage and wedding; I'm freaked out that I'm not freaked out when we have this kinda talk. It usually starts with, "You know, next time when we get married ah..." or "Oh, on our wedding, right..." Won't that basically freak some people out?

In contrary, I'm looking forward to it, not in a bridezilla or I-can't-wait-to-get-married way, it's more like I am looking forward to spending a new chapter of my life with someone so beautiful inside out. He's not a saint, but he's mine and what's mine is perfect. #cheesyagain. And heck, I'm definitely not bridezilla *touch wood* I don't even want to have a big wedding. Who cares about flowers arrangement, anyway?

Seeing him playing with his fellow so-called grownups now, I think I might fallen in love with a little boy. Or just the little boy in him too. He mentioned once that nobody has noticed this boyishness in him, and I think to myself, ironically they call him childish. Oh well, boys are complicated, not so simple as they might have put it out there. Oh well.

It seems like whenever I try to write something serious, I get distracted with lovey-dovey love life of mine. Ahh the wonders of love, one shall not perish in it. Signing off!

When is ready, ready?

When you set a goal for yourself, you plan out missions to conquer and with little missions accomplished, you get steps closer to your goal.

I on the other hand, set a goal too. But as a lazy introvert-first-extrovert-second, I can't seem to get my little missions done. I have a problem which is I'm not able to discipline myself. It might be from my upbringing, my mother wasn't much of a rotan woman.

My sister and I were given the freedom to choose how we grow up. Yup, that's how I can put it. We were given the chance to grow up and explore what's right and what's wrong on our own. We were always given a "Yes" when it comes to sleepover or an outing. We're those lucky children with a cool mom, I know.  What a liberty, isn't it?

I was never pushed to my limits, I set my own limits which was usually low. I was never ushered, never been really put under strict rules, the free-spirited girl who did what she wanted when she wanted it. I grew up fine, I guess. 

I don't blame my mom for not setting more rules, I thank her for giving me the freedom to discover who I am as a person and the freedom to be who I am today. With the right turns and the wrong turns, I am made of who I was.

So when it comes to self discipline, I can't do it. Yes, that's bad for my resume. But I just can't. This results in all my last-minute encounters and my master in procrastinating. And guess what? I'm starting my class for Master next week. A real master degree program.

I'm not ready.

*self-pity alert, do not proceed if you can't stand the sight of some self-wallowing*

With a tight finance and my lack of enthusiasm in writing a dissertation, even though it won't happen until the next semester, among other matters that somehow managed to get on my concerned list, I feel lost again.

I thought doing Master will set it straight for me. I'm not saying I do not want to do this, I want to. But since I know myself that well, plus my low self-esteem, I don't think I'm cut out for this.

I'm not going to write some inspiring essay on how to pick myself up. I'm blatantly complaining and making excuses for myself right here and now. Every little thing irks the shit out of me and I'm trying to reason with myself again into believing in myself and my decision to take up this program.

I'm not ready.

Money ain't gonna roll its way in on me, being a student means being poor again. Not to mention the debt you're piling up. What's so good about studying anyway?

Sometimes, I question myself whether the real reason behind me enrolling for Master is because I want to avoid the tough road of looking for a job, avoiding rejection over rejection and the possibility of me ending up doing something I do not like.

You see, being a free-spirited girl, I don't often do things for the sake of greater good. I do things emotionally. Meaning, if I have no interest, I will not do it. Even if I do, I will not get satisfying results. I'm not the type where I grit my teeth and finish things in what I'm good at even though I don't like it.

But inside, I always have this dream working in publications. I know I cannot be a writer, but I know I can help some good writers publish what they love to write. In my opinion, you need a good book to make you money but you don't necessarily need a good one to achieve your dreams. Unless of course your dream is to become the bestseller.

I don't always read bestsellers or classics. Neither would I read some great prose or highly recommended book just because it's on top of everyone's reading list. I can tell you that I love chick-lits and I never finished How To Kill a Mockingbird.

This is why I feel I'm not ready! Not for this new chapter, not for this new challenge. Is this really what I want? When will I be ready to face myself and this world we live in today?

Writing about writing.

Lately I've been pondering on the reason why I've been so reluctant to blog again. I used to be able to do it on a daily basis during high school and even though I had nothing special to blog about, I still managed to ooze my feelings and happenings into tangible words.

Those were the days where a small girl in a small town has nothing interesting to do and nowhere nice to go, no smartphone and still using Friendster era, I was able to be myself and write every nook and cranny of my heart out.

Years passed by and that blog has long been forgotten. Until memories drew me back to the old blog and yes I still managed to log in.

As I was reading it, I was almost appalled and cringed more than I should. I was reading my own blog, why would I  grimaced while reading and not  remember what happened?

After days of obsessing over this cringe-worthy old blog, I decided to delete the whole thing, the entire blog. But I chose to retain the name - The Outcast.

I've come to realize that I'm afraid to write, not only because I always think I'm not good enough, but also because I know, once experiences and emotions written, they are immortalized into words.

I can't be deleting and creating a new blog whenever I have chills reading awkward situations or deep emo posts I've been through and written about. I have to commit to something, now that I think of it. Might as well be a blog?

Yes, besides my relationship, I need something else to keep my head occupied and exercised too.

Words to me, they are the primary form of communication, also for most people, what more with texting and IMs nowadays.

But when I can't speak, I write. When I can't sing, I write. When I can't cry, I write. When I can't laugh, I write. Tell me something I don't do without writing it out first.

I write in my own space, and I love it. It sort of liberates me, like a functioning human being who knows how to wonder and wander. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for the existence of letters and words. I find writing comforting and relaxing but also pressured at the same time to write better.

Writing has been a rough journey for me. In fact, it has just started again. Every single day is a new day for me to write. Some days I'm afraid of what I'm capable and incapable of writing, other days I spit out like farting right after exiting the elevator. Like now, duh.

I wanna be done writing about writing, I wanna start writing about expressing and inspiring personal feelings, inducing and creating emotions from those who read me.

I can't be caring now that I have no readers. Someone told me once, somewhere along this line, if I don't write, how's anyone gonna read?

Writing is fearful yet rewarding, be courageous to write. Nothing beats a smooth train of thoughts.

Cheers,

Believe

I had the strangest feeling, your world's not all it seems.
So tired of misconceiving, what else this could've been.

I don't even know if I wanna believe.

For all those who think they've lost someone who could've meant something, this is for you. You might have just ended up with the better part of the deal. Keep moving on.

With love

Kids, love?

It's a crazy thing to actually already imagine your life with someone with the possibility of having kids and setting up your new home somewhere you both find comfort and you call it your little nest.

It's even crazier to be thinking that with someone you know that doesn't want kids.

I haven't been a big advocate of having kids myself but I've always imagined a family with little toddlers running around the garden and you get to indulge in a parental right to take photos of your little creations, their tiny little feet and hands, their "Michelin" baby skin (which I've googled it's a syndrome that you do not want your kids to get) and not to forget that classic baby in the sink photo! Not to mention, reading fairytales or history of Chinese dynasties with the Mings and Zhus with their generals and concubines, in which I would not read it to them because I'm clueless about history which leaves only one other person in this imaginary family of mine to read to the little toddlers.

Where was I? I got carried away, real far. In which you might think "This girl really do want kids!" but, no. Or maybe not. It's just... I've never really thought about it until I've met someone that I know I will spend the rest of my life with. It's like some animal instinct in us, like how a wolf decides to mate after the courting period and how they deem each other good enough for them. Out of all the animals, why the wolf? Because wolf packs are akin to a nuclear family.

Truth to be spoken, I don't know if I want them or I just like the idea of them. For him, he knows how hard it is to bring children up, hence no kids. For me, I just think I grew up fine with a challenging environment. I am who I am because of what life chose for me and what I chose for my life. I already have this trust in my future kids (let's just call them that for now, lacking of better names) that they too will grow up fine to be great human beings. Surely, I understand where he comes from, having a girlfriend who's like a kid herself most of the time, he might just not consider having another one who doesn't even know how to at least wipe their own shit.

Which brings me to also the idea of having dogs in a family. That has never gotten in my picture. Simply being I don't have pets nor am I exposed to the frail life of dogs. After knowing him and being introduced to five dogs at once as a part of the family, I'm up for adorable, loyal beings like them. Although...I'm not so keen on having all five in one go.

So, the current standing is the likelihood of having dogs in a family is definitely higher than having little human being(s).

We'll see how it goes then?

Off Balance.

Ever felt like you've been thrown off balance and you can't realign yourself? Like you've been pushed left and right vigorously like your soul is forced out of your body? And when you do return, you need to again familiarize your limbs, how to gesticulate or even walk. You wonder if what you've done so far isn't entirely wrong but isn't right either.

That's what I'm feeling right now.

It has now turned to some kinda detachment stage like I need to distant myself from everyone and plant my feet back on the ground. This stage is volatile. I won't know if this lost-and-found soul would accept this "new" body like it used to fit so well.

So far, all this body does is push the one she needs most away.

Being her

I've been thinking a lot lately about this blog, should I revive it? Should I add more colours to it by painting it with photos of my little journeys? Like some kinda travelling + scenic photos?

But then again, I wouldn't be able to do so in a small town with with no state-of-the-art camera. Or just an amateur DSLR. Although, a small town won't be enough of an excuse. There's a lot of food. Some recently called it "dessert heaven". Yeah right. *rolls eyes*

Anyway, I'm also a lazy person who I think will not be able to upkeep this blog and maintain a stable network of readers. Not to mention boring? Ha.

If you're reading this, means you've found the little random thoughts in my head, my musings. I'm no celeb, why read me?

And since I don't call myself an actual blogger who benefits readers with a travel diary or some kind of advice column, I'll just settle with just being me. Me being Wei X. Sounds cool?

I'm cool with that (;