non dulce non et decor

I feel so restless, when I really should be throwing myself into my chemistry work with vigour because exams are coming up and my understanding of nuclear chemistry right now is just little balls flying around and hitting each other and KABOOM the world is ending. 

But here I am, blogging and waiting for my sister to finish bullshitting her essay so we can watch teen wolf together. 

Tumblr makes me feel so lonely at times, and then I cringe when I contemplate the fact I am entering the slippery slope of turning into an attention seeking little brat, who is one step away from stating her favourite book is Lolita and quoting song lyrics on every single damn post for self promotion. Like, every single person on that website is depressed and the more I look at how sad and pathetic and desperate some people are, the more depressed I feel myself. 

Why that site fetishises sadness and mental health issues is beyond me, and irritates me to no end bc if I see another 13 yr old claim to have an eating disorder bc they threw up once, or have depression bc they thought they'd try cutting themselves bc they were sort of sad, I will be tempted to punch something. It's not cool, nor is it fashionable or artistic to be fucked up. 

Of course, I'm not saying that mental health is not important BECAUSE IT IS, but my only issues with that lie in the fact that by telling people that all their problems matter, we're seriously distorting what "suffering" is. Everyone has issues, and everyone gets sad, but that doesn't necessarily mean you're depressed, rather sometimes you just need to learn to suck it up. Resilience, people.

Friday: it was so good

Friday night: my bible 

Saturday: I was hobbling by the end of the day bc of a blister

Saturday afternoon: didn't get that cami, the straps were too long ):

It started raining like crazy. Like actually crazy. 

I tried herbal jelly milk tea for the first time ever. So good

Some of the reasons why I'm permanently broke 

I got my big hoops on

X

Jess

sweet sixteen is over

Hello fellow human beings

So this is it. This is me at 17 years of age, in my final year of high school. 

I've developed an attachment to coffee, but at the same time I don't think it works. I don't think I have an addictive personality, but I can't kick old habits. I've bitten my nails down to the quick but it no longer hurts. Can people become accustomed to pain?

I've spent the nights of the last few weeks watching SBS documentaries, eating unripe peaches and playing games on my phone until finally sleep welcomes me. 

I've been in a 90s music phase, and I can't remember what I liked before, but between Oasis, Nirvana and Aerosmith it doesn't really matter. I said maybe, you're gonna be the one who saves me. They make me sad, but in a good way. The 1975 and Arcade Fire aren't half bad either. (Chocolate, Sex, Girls || Modern Man, The Suburbs) and I'm waning off Lana del Rey. Her new song isn't that great. (But oh it's indescribable the chills some of her old songs give me - This is What Makes Us Girls, Dark Paradise, Lucky Ones, Damn You, Never Let Me Go, Summertime Sadness, Blue Jeans). 

How can I tell you that I'm bored of my hair, that I crave change and want to pierce my ears again (helix? industrial?) and I wished I had something to take photos of. How I write shitty poetry at 2am because that's the best time to write, when you're poised on the precipice of reality and non-reality and the world doesn't seem real, or alive. How going to school gives me a sense of purpose and routine, but leaves me beyond exhausted. How my uniform frustrates me because the shirt's too loose and my skirt creeps down my legs throughout the day and makes me look like a nun by seventh period if I don't continuously roll it up. 

I want to say so many things but the words disappear when I need them the most and only reappear at night. Or they just die a soundless death on my tongue, because I hate being cheesy and then I feel sad because when I think about I never tell my parents how much I appreciate them, or love them or how I don't know how to tell my grandma that I love her, that I'd love her even if she wasn't the only one who spoiled me and gave me the things I want. 

There are too many things I can't recite about myself, and I wish I could. Maybe I'll write more often, maybe I'll go out more often, maybe I'll be forced to repeat what I know often enough that it becomes part and parcel of my memory. 

Here's to the new school year, the new lunar year, to new opportunities and turning each day into a mini story of its own.

ootd: chokers are my new favourite thing. 

Few shots I took of my sister. 

We are so bad at making food look attractive. So much more respect for the people on Masterchef because "presentation" is not easy

A friend gave me a souvenir from China hehe

On Friday after school, my sister had an orthodontist appointment so we went to Trade Secret afterward and after that it was happy hour so we scored some super cheap sushi that tasted like heaven. 

Piercing inspo : I don't really know what I want but I'd rather it be different on each ear and not just a double lobe piercing (because that's so overdone nowadays) and definitely something on top. Mother thinks getting more than one piercing is the fast track to dropping out of school and ending up in a gang or something though lol. 

X

Jess