Faeries, stardust, eternities.

Welcome to 2019 everyone 😀

Made fresh new resolutions, it’s 3 weeks in, I am doing good (With the working out part) except that I loop holed myself – I didn’t state workout for how long so I am kinda doing 10mins each time and not feeling the slightest of guilt that I just upped myself in my own game.

Sharing some snaps of my Xmas gifts.

All of my gifts below. Would say most of the list was fulfilled and im soooo happy 😀 😀 😀 I am a lucky girl.

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Finally managed to get my long emptied sk II…. -_-

 

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The most beautiful packaging HAHAHA Yes I couldn’t stand not snapping an individual pic of this. I always loved their packaging. Every girl’s dream 🙂 Thanks to R

 

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The logo is silver-toned, else would have matched my Jet-setter set to the T. Love it anyways. XD

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It’s raining here. I have the urge to write my thoughts out.

I could feel some major shifts happening in my life.  Not a moment passes where I do not think and fear the unknown, but I know that time is like an immortal heart that beats – I have to prepare and brace for whatever that comes.

Here’s a poem that pretty much divulges one of the biggest hurdles in my life right now; I wish the melancholic souls out there who chance upon this, can feel some familiarity and hopefully find momentary solace in a common angst. 

 

 

An owl dips, into the blackest skies,
soft in flight, quiet he flies
alone was I, cold hands shaking
loud crisp tones, of my heart be breaking.

My scraped knees are weak, soon I’d falter,
her out-worldly heart, soon shall wander.
Hands bleeding, flailing, I tried to grasp,
her shadow, like a dying ember, turned to dust.

Of grim, of gloom, a hell bent desire,
Woven with deceit, so pleased Belial.
Had it been so, satire of lust,
Of grief, of doom, a martyr of trust.

I watch her leave. 

Laced with sweet magnolias, and deadly nightshade,
pertinent to love, an asphyxiated heartbreak.
My worship to her, in all false opulence,
was masking damp cheeks, and where she sought forgiveness.

She turns to leave.

The wind sang her goodbyes, saying :

Time, to which we’re enslaved, in its cruel movements,
grants no concession but a binding warrant;
Oh love, my heart it yearns, for an eternity with you,
yet our destiny, are two hearts that will never heal.

 

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Yes I know, I am turning 28 soon. And CNY is coming. I am not ready and not going to be pleased to answer all the “When are you getting married” questions by my relatives. Birthday’s coming…. I haven’t thought of a wishlist but to prevent *cue laughter* color pencils from happening again, I guess I have to come up with the list soon.

 

 

 

Death is a reward.

I dreamed of him again, his fingers thrashing wildly in my clammed up vagina. My nipples were erect, not from pleasure, but from shame. His pot belly was sliding conveniently across my breasts, all the way up, till his penis found its way into my unwilling mouth, forcing my lips apart, the entire shaft went down my throat.

I grasped the sheets so tight, eyes clenched shut. A single, angry tear rolled down my cheek, disappearing down the snow white pillow without a trace. The room was silent, as though filled with a crowd of invisible, awkward spectators, all listening to the sound of me gagging.

He then fucked me, perspiration running down his temple. I laid still, my body stiffly rocking to his plunges. I wanted to throw up. I felt as though my ribs were buckling under his weight. I could smell his sweat and taste that overpowering stench of lust and greed. His penis stuck in like a sore entrapment.

“I will see you again. And I will fuck you harder. I own you, bitch.”

I left the room, my body felt like it was on fire. I wanted to throw my dirty self down a building. But all the inspiration quotes I read the day before acted like a guide, calming my frenzied mind, holding back my impulse… of death.

How can I die? I have to repay my parents for raising me. I have to make sure he won’t post up dirty stories of me, smearing my name with rancid bullshit even after I am stone cold in a casket.

I locked myself in my room, where I was supposed to feel the safest. I slapped myself over and over again. I deserved to be punished. For allowing a fat, disgusting mad man to degrade me this way. Desecrate my life, ripping it to shreds, until there’s no shadow to my own soul. I took out a whip and lashed out at my vagina. This disgusting piece of flesh that was raped and abused. I wanted so much, for it to be removed from my body.

The pain comforted me. I told myself this bitter punishment will relief me a tad bit from this horrible sin.  The physical treatment was like a weaponry pastor. I prayed to the rod for forgiveness.

I slammed my head against the wall, as if the memories could be knocked out from the impact.

*BANG*

*BANG*

*BANG*.

With each stronger blow I dealt, the lesser I felt. I continued doing it until everything goes numb, my face red from the hard slaps, my lower body paralyzed from the lashes. I lie down on my bed, quivering, shaking, crying. Still, my soul chose not to dissipate. Still, my heart beats. My body wanted to live. I had to crawl through the brambles of life’s cruel, existing torment.

I realized by then, epiphany through sheer misery; that death… is a reward.

And I do not deserve it yet.

Drag your feet, trudge through the grime. Let dirt decorate your skin but never taint your soul. Breathe, like the world owes you. Cling on harder and harder like an adamant root in the eroded soil. Cling on to life.

 

Guess what I found

Was tidying my room. Chanced upon one of the earlier journals I kept. I keep one every year. Some survived through my mum’s gigantic purge of “unnecessary household items” but not all are so lucky.

 

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Seems my teenage adolescent pain was pretty unbearable and I think I can pretty much still remember how it felt.

Nonetheless the sorrow did not go wasted I guess I managed to channel it through the literature aspect. lolol

Here’s one of my favorites:

 

I am an angel, i wield a halo, a facade
My words they are magic, an immaculate art
I am a goddess, I define beauty
My movements are sex – erotic and pretty.

I am a temptress, a lubricious desire,
My touch unleashes, your lewd denial
I am the world, passion is my pawn
My eyes are like a weapon, a deceptive con.

I am an abstract, I delude conscience,
My heart abuses truth, and words so vicious.
I am an extreme, between love and hatred,
Females antagonists, whilst males are patriots.

I am a treachery, a betrayal of love,
philandering in blood, a motto I serve
I am, mere mortal, yet not
Delude the truth, if truth be sought.

 

Don’t we all miss that all so familiar childhood bullying. Not sure what led me to write this though. HAHA.

Anyway I managed to revamp my room! Will come up with a post once the curtain is done. Have a good week ahead.

Wat did I just write.

Whilst you are riding on her sorry plight,
claimed recognition to your selfless rights,
She was on her knees graveling in the dirt,
fabric of her love worn till her heartbeats slurred,

Sordid exchange with those plastic damsels,
“For work” She smiled and dismissed those gestures,
Cradled the sleeping baby against her breasts,
Could she still long, for her body caressed?

Pack your things, my lovely child,
A lover like that is no worth your while.
Never now, in this age, will such love be scorned,
It needn’t be for two, that the baby be born.

We were all masochists, and victims of love,
but the child’s new life, is a reason for mirth.
Reach, and anchor your feet to the ground
Close that chapter, and the door to his house.

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On a side note, babies are so not my thing. But I wrote this hoping someone who’s facing this situation now can find the strength she seeks –

A woman should never live for a man. The man should live like he’d die for her. Some people stay in bad relationships because they are afraid. Let fear fuel you, but in such, you should be scared that you will never be happy if you stay. Don’t be scared you will end up all alone if you leave.

Because that is never going to happen. To all single mothers!!! (to be)
Don’t ever settle for less than what you are worth. Your child will thank you for it.