Reality

You wouldn't think that things like this would happen in real life.

Emma left yesterday. To Seoul. For two months. With Max.

It feels so surreal, fairytale like even. Where the Prince saves the Princess, and tells the Princess to leave everything in his hands.

Watching them together makes me believe in "love" again. The way he's still shy around her, and how he makes her smile so brightly. It's perfect. It's wonderful.


When she first told Ciara and I about it, we weren't very happy. Mainly because of the scope of the risk she's taking. But after an intense and emotional discussion with her, we realised that it was for the best, and we were even more excited than she was.


Two days before she left, we even brought her for Korean food.

I lent her all my Korean books, even my Korean dictionary. There are these two books in particular, called "Making Out in Korean", (which I believe Lara would remember ;) ) that was full of colloquial Korean phrases, which Emma liked a lot. We were pretty much sitting at McDonald's at the airport, embarrassing Max to the max (pun intended).



Anyway, Emma and Max should have just arrived in Seoul by now. Those crazy kids had to spend a night at KLIA last night.

All the best in Seoul, papa bear. I shall e-mail you my list of lovers that I NEED you to help me stalk and kidnap and bring home. ♥

나 . 좀 . 봐 .

It's always about one of them beautiful mixed babies. Always.

Don't talk to me, if all you want to talk about or get to know is them.

Don't get me wrong. They are my best friends. I do love them. But. I'm not a fucking gateway.

Dreaming

I just woke up from a short nap, and I dreamt of something very graphic that I don't think I'd be able to get out of my head soon.

In dreamland:

I was on Facebook, scrolling down my News Feed, when I saw a sudden influx of new posts from many people talking about this young girl (no more than 7 years old) who committed suicide by hanging herself at her kampung. There was a picture that came with the posts, but I chose not to look at it because, honestly, why would I? It IS a photo of a girl being hung. 

I then suddenly find myself AT the kampung, with the Starbuck drink that I bought after school today - a Venti sized Iced Cappuccino Triple Shot WITH WHIPPED CREAM. I stress on WITH WHIPPED CREAM because I NEVER drink my Starbucks / Coffee Bean drinks with whipped cream (I'm actually still sipping on it as I type). Anyway, the head of the kampung is giving my family (mum, dad, grandma, grandpa, Adelynn) a walkthrough of the kampung, saying that many families had visited the kampung after hearing about the news. So as we walk through the kampung, the head tells us that the site where the girl had hung herself was approaching. Turns out she had hung herself on a wooden arch that was situated right outside the kampung which was meant to welcome people to the kampung. Now, because of the incident, everyone enters the kampung through it's back entrance. 

So as we approach the wooden arch, there is a freaking wooden model of the girl hanging from the arch. Like, wtf. She had short hair, very much like the ones you see little Standard One girls have on the first day of school. The statue reminded me a lot of the statues of Jesus that are outside St. Anne's Church in Bukit Mertajam. Expectedly, I felt reluctant to see the statue from the front. I held hands with my mum, and walked over to the front of the arch to see it. I should probably mention that we were somehow not allowed to look at the statue frontally. From the arch, we had to walk on a suspended bridge (more like a few planks tied together with rope) that was about 1m in length (so barely 3 steps) to get to this little pavilion that was only about 1m² in size. 

Then came the moment: turning around to look at the statue. Her head was facing the ground, but her tongue and esophagus were hanging out, ang it was about 30cm in length. The head of the kampung said something about her tongue falling out of her mouth because of the pressure of the rope against her neck, which was what that was holding her up. To paint a better picture of the little girl, think Dora the Explorer in terms of hair, skintone, and physique. It was a pretty gruesome image. The head then said that the body of the girl was hung up for five days, before it eventually fell to the ground, and that's when it received media attention. 

Then I woke up.

 I woke up shaking. Plus, I was home alone, so I was petrified. I didn't dare to do anything for the next 5 minutes. If you know me well in person, you would know that I have a horrible phobia of statues and masks.

This photo is of the statues at St Anne's that I was talking about

The arch looked somewhat like that, but bigger (about 2m) and made of teak (hence a dark brown colour). And on the top of it was a signboard welcoming people to the kampung. 

I've always been a dreamer, if that's what they call it. Last year, or the year before, I dreamt almost every night, say 5 nights a week. It got pretty severe, to the point where every morning Richie would ask me "What did you dream of last night?". I've also always had a very peculiar sleeping schedule. Last year when I had the frequent dreams, I woke up almost every hour each night. And everytime I slept after waking up, I would be dreaming about something new.

The meanings of dreams have always fascinated me. It's like this unknown window of your sub-conscious mind that you try to reach out to, but it is always a step further away for you to catch or to comprehend.

Anyway, I know I haven't been posting lately, and my previous post was very emotional. But as I said in my first post (I think I did...), I want this blog to be an accurate and shameless journal of my teenage life. I have many posts laying on Blogger as drafts waiting to be expanded on or have photos added to. School has been very busy lately, and I promise to update once I have the time to. :)