<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559</id><updated>2024-09-05T19:24:51.634+08:00</updated><category term="Life"/><category term="Self"/><category term="Love"/><category term="Little Thoughts"/><category term="Relationship"/><category term="Art"/><category term="Lifestyle"/><category term="Fashion"/><category term="Studies"/><category term="Family"/><category term="Little somethings"/><category term="Summer 2012"/><category term="10-Day Photo Challenge 2011"/><category term="Friends"/><category term="Travel"/><category term="work"/><category term="Being a 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On"/><category term="Nature"/><category term="Packing"/><category term="Postivity"/><category term="Poverty"/><category term="Religion"/><category term="San Francisco"/><category term="Shopping"/><category term="Time"/><category term="Tumblr"/><category term="Turkey"/><category term="1920s"/><category term="1950s"/><category term="2014"/><category term="Alexa Chung"/><category term="Andy Warhol"/><category term="Animals"/><category term="Application-Phobia"/><category term="Baginski"/><category term="Before I Die"/><category term="Being Wrong"/><category term="Bikes"/><category term="Birthday"/><category term="Brad Pitt"/><category term="Burgundy"/><category term="Chanel No. 5"/><category term="Christian Dior 2012 Spring"/><category term="Christmas"/><category term="Coco Chanel"/><category term="Costume"/><category term="DB"/><category term="Deer"/><category term="Embarrassment"/><category term="Exam"/><category term="Fashion Crime"/><category term="Fawn"/><category term="Flowers"/><category term="Forever"/><category term="Forgiveness"/><category term="Fred Astaire"/><category term="French"/><category term="Galaxy"/><category term="Gender and Sexuality"/><category term="Ginger Rogers"/><category term="Graduation Dinner"/><category term="Great Gatsby"/><category term="Hair"/><category term="Halloween"/><category term="Haute Couture"/><category term="International Coffee Day"/><category term="JR"/><category term="Japanese Earthquake and Tsunami 2011"/><category term="Justice"/><category term="Kate Moss"/><category term="Kate Spade"/><category term="Korea"/><category term="Lace"/><category term="Loungewear"/><category term="Mamma Mia"/><category term="Menswear"/><category term="Micah Gianneli"/><category term="Mistakes"/><category term="Mother&#39;s Day 2012"/><category term="Musical"/><category term="Nightmare"/><category term="Novella Royale 2012"/><category term="Pablo Neruda"/><category term="Pet"/><category term="Pho"/><category term="Procrastination"/><category term="Respect"/><category term="San Diego"/><category term="Security"/><category term="Seoul"/><category term="Severn Suzuki"/><category term="Sexy"/><category term="Sexybook by Esther Haase"/><category term="Sheer"/><category term="Sleep"/><category term="Sofia Vergara"/><category term="Style"/><category term="Suit"/><category term="Tea for Two"/><category term="Technology"/><category term="Terrible Girls"/><category term="Vietnam"/><category term="Wedding"/><category term="World Suicide Prevention Day"/><category term="Wuthering Heights"/><title type='text'>Subtly Extreme</title><subtitle type='html'>everyday musings</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>219</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-1783068857107698043</id><published>2014-06-25T08:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2014-06-25T08:08:52.703+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On Saying Goodbyes</title><content type='html'>For my cousin S who is always my best older brother&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I woke up knowing exactly how I would feel today: a sense of loss.&lt;br /&gt;
That painful and eternal sense of loss which does not heal and will never be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It doesn&#39;t take a circle on the calendar to remind me what day today is.&lt;br /&gt;
It doesn&#39;t take an alarm for me to remember what happened two years ago on this exact date.&lt;br /&gt;
It doesn&#39;t take any kind of reminder at all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The wound is still there. Fresh.&lt;br /&gt;
It doesn&#39;t heal, it just doesn&#39;t.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m not prepared to say goodbye - I wonder if I would ever be ready.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Perhaps I have a fixation about saying goodbyes.&lt;br /&gt;
To be exact, the fear of not being able to say goodbye at all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is no greater regret than having words unsaid, thoughts unshared and feelings unpaired.&lt;br /&gt;
That&#39;s why I&#39;m always all or nothing.&lt;br /&gt;
When I open up, I pour everything.&lt;br /&gt;
And it&#39;s always more about the process, not the result.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It kills me that I haven&#39;t had the chance to say goodbye to him.&lt;br /&gt;
There was no goodbye or even the slightest sign that he was going to leave.&lt;br /&gt;
And when he left, I wasn&#39;t even there at his funeral.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We were supposed to meet for dinner,&lt;br /&gt;
he was supposed to live a longer life,&lt;br /&gt;
he was supposed to be here in my life to watch me grow up.&lt;br /&gt;
What if he give himself up? Would he be happy?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But there is no &quot;supposed to&quot; and &quot;what if&quot;, it&#39;s unfortunately all my wishful thinking only…&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Letting go of people I love is a really tough lesson.&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s never gonna be easy for me - I feel to deeply and my memory doesn&#39;t allow me to forget people who have made their marks in my life.&lt;br /&gt;
Images running in my mind, their voices in my ears…these people basically tattooed on me, their marks last for as long as I live.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I sometimes seethe with anger that he just left and whatever/whoever that caused him to do it.&lt;br /&gt;
And all these anger and sorrow are rooted in the one same thing: love.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
N</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/1783068857107698043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2014/06/on-saying-goodbyes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/1783068857107698043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/1783068857107698043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2014/06/on-saying-goodbyes.html' title='On Saying Goodbyes'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-7502567899587994787</id><published>2014-01-31T23:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2014-02-01T01:30:27.871+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Cleaning</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
Note to readers:&amp;nbsp;Readers, this post can be messy and might not make sense to you all the time.&lt;br /&gt;
It is just me introspecting and trying to put myself into the shoes of others.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy Chinese New Year of the&amp;nbsp;Horse!&lt;br /&gt;
Traditionally, spring cleaning should be done before the first day of the Lunar New Year, symbolically to get rid of bad luck and make space for new blessings.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today is the first day of the lunar year but guess what, it&#39;s not too late to do some cleaning.&lt;br /&gt;
In fact, it&#39;s never too late.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wish I could tell you that I decluttered my closet and my room is spotless.&lt;br /&gt;
But it&#39;d be lying.&lt;br /&gt;
Well, the only important thing is that I feel better after doing some tidying up, whether or not my room becomes as perfect as a showroom doesn&#39;t matter at all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s always more important about how you feel inside--the heart, mind and soul.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is so much negative emotions in me lately, anger mostly.&lt;br /&gt;
Melancholy is rather typical but anger is the interesting part--it is rare.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why am I angry? That&#39;s the question.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Before I come to a conclusion, a few thoughts about anger:&lt;br /&gt;
They say holding anger is like drinking poison and it only kills you from the inside.&lt;br /&gt;
So really, is anger a poison, in other words a bad emotion?&lt;br /&gt;
It certainly doesn&#39;t feel good to be angry, but it&#39;s not necessarily an entirely bad one.&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s what you do about it that determines if anger corrodes you and hurt others around you or drives you to be better.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In a way, anger is a form of passion.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;You only get mad because you care a great deal about the person,&quot; my friend&#39;s voice rings in my ears.&lt;br /&gt;
Yes, we don&#39;t get mad at things or people who we don&#39;t care.&lt;br /&gt;
If anger is love disappointed, it is only because we have expectations unmet.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And if we see it in a larger context, the anger that drives revolutions and drastic changes are in fact passion, the burning fire.&lt;br /&gt;
Or the other way to put it, passion is the form of anger expressed in an effective and constructive way.&lt;br /&gt;
Recipe to translate that passion into success, direct the energy to the right actions, just the same as what I mentioned above and add &quot;at the right place and right time&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So what makes us most angry?&lt;br /&gt;
Different things work for different person but my guess which I think could be universally agreed upon is: unrequited love.&lt;br /&gt;
I was taught to learn this answer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No, I don&#39;t have to learn it by experience.&lt;br /&gt;
It is written in books, take the example of Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights.&lt;br /&gt;
An emotionally heavy read it is; the whole story is driven by the anger and bitterness of unrequited love.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I learned at a young age that there is nothing like a wounded affection for giving poignancy to anger.&lt;br /&gt;
But the bigger lesson I learn is that a heart filled with anger has no room for love, which is the cure for anger.&lt;br /&gt;
Which comes first then: anger makes one reject love or the lack of love fills a person with frustration and build walls around his/her?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Too complicated a question for me to look into, which leads me to the final point:&lt;br /&gt;
the only person who can put out the fire of rage is no one but yourself.&lt;br /&gt;
It really doesn&#39;t matter what anyone say or think, even though you might say it matters.&lt;br /&gt;
It really doesn&#39;t matter how good or what advice is.&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s all about whether you can choose let go.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One of the lessons I learned is that you shouldn&#39;t even think of helping a person to go through frustrating moments because the person is simply too busy with the burning rage that he/she couldn&#39;t even listen.&lt;br /&gt;
This actually kind of piss me off sometimes-- no matter how much you care, it doesn&#39;t change the slightest of things. It just doesn&#39;t matter, even the best intentions.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Back to the topic of spring cleaning.&lt;br /&gt;
What I did to cleanse my soul was I did some yoga at home, took some quiet time and tried meditating.&lt;br /&gt;
It helped a bit, even though it only calmed the storms in my head but not really targeting the source of negativity.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Perhaps the problem doesn&#39;t lie in what people do or what ridiculous things the world offers on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;
Even though I hear a part of me saying &quot;you don&#39;t have to put up with everything. Just say no, that&#39;s enough and move on&quot; whenever I&#39;m angry, maybe the problem is actually mine--my stubbornness.&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe I should lower expectations and embrace the world as it is with open arms and open heart.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe I&#39;m the one who should let go of it all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
N&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/7502567899587994787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2014/02/spring-cleaning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/7502567899587994787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/7502567899587994787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2014/02/spring-cleaning.html' title='Spring Cleaning'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-2709487876407672033</id><published>2014-01-29T23:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2014-01-30T06:27:02.749+08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Relationship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Security"/><title type='text'>Security</title><content type='html'>Sorry I haven&#39;t been updating regularly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Sometime sharing my thoughts is a bit like getting myself naked--it&#39;s frightening.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I learn from experience that I am always too frank. Sometimes I don&#39;t know if it&#39;s a good thing.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Topic of the day: security.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
No, not national security or anything like that.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Just the sense of security that each one of us crave.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
From the first lesson of Securities Studies I took in the uni, I was taught that security means different thing to different person at different times.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I still remember the lesson vividly, I was a pretty good student.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So this sense of security I&#39;m talking about could be anything from&amp;nbsp;financial independence to just a shoulder we can lean on.&lt;br /&gt;
There is such a fine line between the feeling of secure and putting yourself behind bars because you are afraid of change.&lt;br /&gt;
Is it the sense of security and acceptance we are getting or the boring regularity that comes from being constant with the familiar?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I still wonder how my dear heroine friend can be so courageous and go to a foreign land to build her life again from almost nothing. That is actually very impressive.&lt;br /&gt;
Will I be able to do that? I won&#39;t say I can&#39;t do that. Just that I don&#39;t have a reason to.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I came home tonight, with this emotional ride going on in my head.&lt;br /&gt;
I crave for something.&lt;br /&gt;
Not dessert nor another pair of shoes, no.&lt;br /&gt;
But a much stronger craving from deep within.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I ran for a shower, hoping to quench the thirst or whatever this hunger is.&lt;br /&gt;
The only thing I want is to crawl in my bed feeling safe and pampered.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I just want a break from everything that is running in my head. Every single thought.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Then something strikes me as I crawl in bed--the scent of you.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I could still smell you as if you have your arms around me.&lt;br /&gt;
I could still see your face as if you are just next to me.&lt;br /&gt;
I reach to touch your face but you are not there, of course.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I must be having an illusion, the smell of you lingered that&#39;s it, I thought to myself.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But that is good enough an illusion to give me a temporary sense of security.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wrap myself tight in the blanket, thinking of your hugs which got me through tough times.&lt;br /&gt;
And the warmth of your embrace.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I close my eyes and couldn&#39;t help murmuring three french words.&lt;br /&gt;
Je te veux, je te veux...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The thought of you shields me from the rest of the world.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
N&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/2709487876407672033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2014/01/security.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/2709487876407672033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/2709487876407672033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2014/01/security.html' title='Security'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-9038091624926279913</id><published>2014-01-01T23:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2014-01-02T22:25:05.077+08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="2014"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="New Year"/><title type='text'> A Fresh New Start for 2014</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m back!&amp;nbsp;Have you been missing me? ;)&lt;br /&gt;
It feels really&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;gooooood&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;to back here to recharge and be myself again.&lt;br /&gt;
Finally being able to sit down to think and reflect--that sense of secure and serenity of quietly writing in the middle of the night, that inner voice of mine that is no longer masked by the other noises from outside.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In 2013, I opened my eyes to my hidden potentials and strengths, at the same time unveiling my fears and weaknesses.&lt;br /&gt;
I wasn&#39;t embracing life as much as I wanted myself to.&lt;br /&gt;
I wasn&#39;t getting inspired that much.&lt;br /&gt;
I wasn&#39;t being that happy with myself, the way I live and the world I built around me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ysvU0flR8rw/UsRmgXEAYaI/AAAAAAAABY8/371XMretSss/s1600/tumblr_myqhfuq2ou1r8fss3o1_500.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;266&quot; src=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ysvU0flR8rw/UsRmgXEAYaI/AAAAAAAABY8/371XMretSss/s400/tumblr_myqhfuq2ou1r8fss3o1_500.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few of my goals for 2014:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1) Be the type of woman I want to be. I want to make myself proud and be someone who I myself can fall in love with.&lt;br /&gt;
Develop that attractive personality and charm.&amp;nbsp;Be warm, kind, soft, gentle, accepting and loving.&amp;nbsp;Stay true, honest and sincere, so much that the right people will adore me while the wrong people will think I&#39;m rude but I won&#39;t give a shit.&amp;nbsp;Do all things with love. Smile often. Appreciate the beauty in everything. Be chic and stylish by having my own style and building a wardrobe that works for me. Be intelligent and wise. Be independent, brave and strong. Be confident and sexy by knowing what I want and work towards my happiness while at the same time giving the world my generosity and the gift of love.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
2) Take better care of myself in every way possible.&amp;nbsp;Time for me to love myself more.&lt;br /&gt;
I have been putting my attention and efforts on my relationships and other things that I haven&#39;t been listening to my heart enough. It is very tiring to feel trapped and lost, so it&#39;s time for a change.&amp;nbsp;Be bold and don&#39;t be afraid in making choices.&amp;nbsp;It&#39;s perfectly fine to say no and it&#39;s actually healthy. Say no to whatever that does me no good, whether it is people, things, beliefs or habits--one of the many ways of self-loving. Be spiritual.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3) Create a better and healthy lifestyle.&lt;br /&gt;
For the past year, no exercise, spend a little too much, didn&#39;t read enough.&lt;br /&gt;
There really were times I felt like I was getting a panic attack, and they are such obvious signs that I&#39;m not living the right way.&amp;nbsp;If I don&#39;t slow down a bit to appreciate life more, I bet I&#39;m getting a high blood pressure (or heart attack!) very soon.&lt;br /&gt;
Have to make plans to make exercise regular, better manage money and time, make time to relax, read and have better rest.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4) Be inspired and take adventures&lt;br /&gt;
Be grateful but never stop the pursuit of a better self. Be open minded. Stop worrying and being nervous all the time.&lt;br /&gt;
Always remind myself that if it is both terrifying and exciting, I should definitely go for it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For the big picture, just one big aim for 2014:&lt;br /&gt;
I want the positive good vibes back.&lt;br /&gt;
That excitement towards life, that passion, that inner peace, that hope and joy, that positivity, that energy, that love.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I want to once again feel that I radiate and glow with positive energy.&lt;br /&gt;
And spreading it to the world around me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My dear, what are your plans for the year ahead?&lt;br /&gt;
If you do exactly the same things you do now, everything will remain the same.&lt;br /&gt;
So, whatever your plan is, be a better you. :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q2uUG9MS3_k/UsRmfq6YyhI/AAAAAAAABY4/F9_nJwHSvwA/s1600/tumblr_mynecbq0Hx1ril202o1_500.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;248&quot; src=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q2uUG9MS3_k/UsRmfq6YyhI/AAAAAAAABY4/F9_nJwHSvwA/s400/tumblr_mynecbq0Hx1ril202o1_500.png&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
N&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/9038091624926279913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2014/01/a-fresh-new-start-of-2014.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/9038091624926279913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/9038091624926279913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2014/01/a-fresh-new-start-of-2014.html' title=' A Fresh New Start for 2014'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ysvU0flR8rw/UsRmgXEAYaI/AAAAAAAABY8/371XMretSss/s72-c/tumblr_myqhfuq2ou1r8fss3o1_500.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-3333080149949573281</id><published>2013-12-31T23:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2014-01-02T02:11:00.359+08:00</updated><title type='text'>2013: Good or Bad?</title><content type='html'>Was 2013 a good year or a bad year for me?&lt;br /&gt;
To be honest, I still couldn&#39;t decide.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As cliche as it may sound, 2013 was a tough year full of challenges and changes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It was tough for me to have my family away from me and not being able to spend time with my close friends as often as I want to.&lt;br /&gt;
And it was certainly difficult for me to deal with problems in my relationships.&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes I caught myself juggling between work and everything else in life that is important.&lt;br /&gt;
Constantly feeling lost and trapped, defeated and struggling.&lt;br /&gt;
Simply said, it wasn&#39;t easy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But it is exactly in such difficult times that I discover my hidden potentials and see things in a new perspective.&lt;br /&gt;
I have no choice but to really open my arms to embrace challenges.&lt;br /&gt;
Most of them aren&#39;t as scary as they seem actually, all you have to do is to keep your chin up, work hard but still trying your best to enjoy the experience.&lt;br /&gt;
Then when it&#39;s over and you look back, you&#39;ll realise that it wasn&#39;t too bad.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Of course, there is always room for improvement.&lt;br /&gt;
For example, I&#39;m still in search of my work-life balance, still not taking enough care of myself in terms of adopting a healthy lifestyle, need to fix my relationship.&lt;br /&gt;
But the most important of all is: to find myself again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With so many things happening, I feel both excited but distracted and lost at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;
I didn&#39;t read or paint as often as I want to.&amp;nbsp;I rarely read blogs or update my own.&lt;br /&gt;
I couldn&#39;t recall going to any jazz bar for live music in the entire year.&lt;br /&gt;
Every holiday or festival isn&#39;t festive any more because I am always catching up on sleep and rest.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I became exactly the type of girl who I don&#39;t want to be--uninspired and uninspiring.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But again, with terrible things come the good ones.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m blessed to be loved and supported whenever I feel depressed and defeated.&lt;br /&gt;
And when I&#39;m overwhelmed with choices and responsibilities, it really forces me to streamline my life and focus on the most important things and people, which I believe is essential for my own happiness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thank you 2013, for bringing me to a new stage of my life with all these excitements and challenges that make me stronger and better.&lt;br /&gt;
Goodbye, 2013 and to all the disappointment, sadness and tears that you brought me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What a year!&lt;br /&gt;
Thank you for being here with/for me all the way through :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With love and much thanks,&lt;br /&gt;
N&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/3333080149949573281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/12/2013-good-or-bad.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/3333080149949573281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/3333080149949573281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/12/2013-good-or-bad.html' title='2013: Good or Bad?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-6077398764302612731</id><published>2013-11-03T01:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2013-11-03T01:00:36.407+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Waking Up</title><content type='html'>To realize and to discover isn&#39;t something that is always pleasant.&lt;div&gt;
Friday after work, I realized that I was numbing myself of all feelings throughout the week by diving into work and shutting out my emotions.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Then something woke me up from this illusion that I&#39;ve been creating for myself, the armor that I shield myself with.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I thought there is hope.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I thought one day, he&#39;ll understand.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I thought one day, he&#39;ll wake up and regret.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But I think I&#39;m seeing things clearer now--the only discovery I have made is that I am wrong, all the way through.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The boy I met several years ago, he was different.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
He lightens me up, shows me a different way of thinking and a whole different world.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Very different, but exciting.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
He is out of the world, I thought. But that was long ago.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
At some point, I stopped feeling that way.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Some part of me is still in love with that boy I met some years ago.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But who he is now doesn&#39;t resemble the man who is still in my head.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And I&#39;m not sure, do I really know the boy I thought I knew? Or was that another illusion/image that he and I created?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Perhaps I created an illusion. Perhaps I have too good an imagination and fooled myself.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The pain of waking up lies in tearing down everything you once thought is true and to reject everything you believed so wholeheartedly.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It just destroys you.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So much to a point that you don&#39;t know what you can believe in anymore.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So much you don&#39;t want to believe in anything anymore.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
If I were to use just one word to describe how I feel,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
this is the word:&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&quot;wasted&quot;.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
N&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/6077398764302612731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/11/waking-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/6077398764302612731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/6077398764302612731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/11/waking-up.html' title='Waking Up'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-8418275514621305477</id><published>2013-10-20T13:40:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2013-10-20T13:40:28.714+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts of You</title><content type='html'>Sometimes when someone stirs a world of emotions in you, it becomes so intense that you can barely stand to be with them.&lt;br /&gt;
When you only want to be left alone but at the same time crave only a hug from that same person who caused you so much misery.&lt;br /&gt;
Does it make sense at all?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am in a relationship which more and more I realize is too much.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Desperately I want to leave and shut the world behind me.&lt;br /&gt;
And just hide myself in bed--replaying everything he said, everything we did.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With every thought that passes my mind, the heavier the sinking feeling grows; the feeling that it could only get worse and I&#39;m not gonna be okay for a very very long time.&lt;br /&gt;
Because losing someone isn&#39;t just an event.&lt;br /&gt;
It doesn&#39;t happen just once--it happens over and over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I lose you every time I think of your smile.&lt;br /&gt;
I lose you every time I spend a day without telling you things and hearing your voice back.&lt;br /&gt;
I lose you every time I hear a song we listened and sang together, note by note.&lt;br /&gt;
I lose you every time I think of holding you, kissing you and hugging you.&lt;br /&gt;
I lose you every time when I open my eyes from sleep, just to find out you were only in my dream and the touches I felt weren&#39;t real.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I lose you in thousands of ways and in every way possible.&lt;br /&gt;
You are in everything I see, your shadow in every corner of my world.&lt;br /&gt;
And with every thought of you, I am paralyzed and die a little more inside, bit and bit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I could finally get a moment of peace, something strikes and I begin to lose you over again.&lt;br /&gt;
When that happens, I go back and hide myself.&lt;br /&gt;
I want to be left alone--with nothing but the thoughts of you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And the cycle repeats.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
N&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/8418275514621305477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/10/thoughts-of-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/8418275514621305477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/8418275514621305477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/10/thoughts-of-you.html' title='Thoughts of You'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-4084676690171613711</id><published>2013-10-17T16:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2013-10-17T16:18:03.649+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Missing Part</title><content type='html'>This is without doubt one of the toughest moments in my life so far.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Everyday I&#39;m walking on a fine line trying to keep myself sane.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I don&#39;t know how I manage to even crawl out of bed and get to work, when all I want is to shut myself out from everything and everyone or even to end my life.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Feel so desperate that my body is in sync with my mind and I got sick.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Stayed at home today because I am too ill to go to work.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But perhaps it is good for me to have a quiet time to rest both the body and mind.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Even though I feel like my world is crumbling and shattering into pieces,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I know we are doing the right thing--we are searching for the missing part, we are finding the answers to our own questions.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Do we complete each other? Or are we too different?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Is this a relationship that we want?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Do feelings fade? And when they do, what is it that is left behind?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Is that enough to sustain a long-term relationship?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Is a relationship supposed to be like this?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So many questions in my mind and his as well.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
At the end of the day, numerous questions all boils down to one:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
do we still love each other and willing to give it one more try?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Fear, insecurity, lack of confidence, worries begin to attack.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What if we couldn&#39;t make it?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What if we aren&#39;t right for each other in the first place? If so, why should we cling to a dying relationship?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What would my life be without him/her?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Will I be able to someone like him/her again?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Then, fear along with all other negativity begin to kill and suffocate the last bits of hope.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Fear for losing, fear for change, fear for failure.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But none of these actually help us to solve any problem.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It only breeds resentment, frustration and even more sadness.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Back to square one.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
There are as many questions, doubts, fears, and worries in my mind as in his.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I understand the guilt, self-blame and confusion he has to bear.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But it&#39;s a cruel reality that I can&#39;t help him with his search for answers, and he can&#39;t help me in my journey.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It&#39;s all about discovering one&#39;s self and one&#39;s needs.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Sometimes, certain conversation or phase of life we have to go through aren&#39;t meant to be pleasant.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
All we can do is be honest with ourselves and each other, and be open and support each other with acceptance.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Nothing conquers fear and insecurity better than love.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Not in a romantic sense, but just love in its purest form; kindness, acceptance and peace.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Fill your life, mind and heart with love.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Embrace life with love for yourself and compassion for others.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Love,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
N&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/4084676690171613711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/10/the-missing-part.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/4084676690171613711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/4084676690171613711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/10/the-missing-part.html' title='The Missing Part'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-6028851297402083604</id><published>2013-09-29T02:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2013-09-29T13:16:20.347+08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Relationship"/><title type='text'>If I were a boy...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;line-height: 16px;&quot;&gt;Listening to an old song and it strikes me harder than ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;line-height: 16px;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;line-height: 16px; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&quot;If I were a boy&quot; by Beyonce&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;line-height: 16px; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;line-height: 16px; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;Lyrics:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;verse&quot; style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;If I were a boy even just for a day&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;I&#39;d r&lt;/span&gt;oll out of bed in the morning&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;And throw on what I wanted&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;And go drink beer with the guys&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;verse&quot; style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;And chase after girls&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;verse&quot; style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;I&#39;d kick it with who I wanted&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;And I&#39;d never get confronted for it&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;&#39;Cause they stick up for me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;verse&quot; style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;verse&quot; style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;If I were a boy&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;I think I could understand&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;How it feels to love a girl&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;I swear I&#39;d be a better man&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;verse&quot; style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;verse&quot; style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;I&#39;d listen to her&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;&#39;Cause I know how it hurts&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;When you lose the one you wanted&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;&#39;Cause he&#39;s taking you for granted&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;And everything you had got destroyed&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;If I were a boy&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;I would turn off my phone&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;Tell everyone it&#39;s broken&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;So they&#39;d think that I was sleeping alone&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;I&#39;d put myself first&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;And make the rules as I go&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;&#39;Cause I know that she&#39;d be faithful&lt;br style=&quot;box-sizing: border-box;&quot; /&gt;Waiting for me to come home, to come home&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F5A8Ar4Lsls/Uke3kpuyifI/AAAAAAAABXQ/MGrbSWW9Jms/s1600/jlindberg14.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; src=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F5A8Ar4Lsls/Uke3kpuyifI/AAAAAAAABXQ/MGrbSWW9Jms/s320/jlindberg14.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;Guys, be better men and love her right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;If you don&#39;t make an effort, love her as much as you can and fight for the relationship, trust me, someone else will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She gave you her heart, together with love, respect and trust.&lt;br /&gt;
Guard it, don&#39;t break it.&lt;br /&gt;
Make sure you deserve that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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N&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/6028851297402083604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/09/if-i-were-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/6028851297402083604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/6028851297402083604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/09/if-i-were-boy.html' title='If I were a boy...'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F5A8Ar4Lsls/Uke3kpuyifI/AAAAAAAABXQ/MGrbSWW9Jms/s72-c/jlindberg14.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-5871778748971146068</id><published>2013-09-27T02:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2013-09-27T02:28:00.797+08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Being a Woman"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Relationship"/><title type='text'>Too Much to Ask For?</title><content type='html'>Usually this time of the day, I should be already in bed, sound asleep after a day of work.&lt;br /&gt;
But not for tonight.&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t want to cry myself to sleep just to cry myself awake again in the middle of the night.&lt;br /&gt;
So I decided to get up and write something to get things out of my head.&lt;br /&gt;
The ground beneath my feet begins to shake, things around me seem to dismantle one after the other...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You know, it&#39;s just a fine line between being romantic and being pathetically unrealistic.&lt;br /&gt;
I couldn&#39;t tell which type I belong to.&lt;br /&gt;
By &quot;pathetically unrealistic&quot;, I don&#39;t mean I&#39;m looking for a billionaire to buy me big diamonds, or a model-like handsome man to make me breakfast every morning.&lt;br /&gt;
Turns out looking for a person who can share with me everything is already a &quot;pathetically unrealistic&quot; demand.&lt;br /&gt;
Is it?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If so, here is my quixotic idea of an ideal relationship with my dream life partner who of course doesn&#39;t exist in real life:&lt;br /&gt;
I want a man who dares to be nakedly honest with me; for both good things and the bad.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t need flowers or rocks,&amp;nbsp;I need someone who gives himself to me; his heart, soul and body, everything.&lt;br /&gt;
He has to be a&amp;nbsp;person who willingly and eagerly shares with me his dreams, his pride, what breaks his heart, his worries, fears, secrets, fantasies, and allow me into even the darkest corner in his mind and heart, and dying to know the same things about me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I want to be soothed by the knowledge that in a world of over 7 billion, he chose me to open up to and I know him best.&lt;br /&gt;
When I love a person, I crave him in the most innocent, raw form; a simple but desperate way--I want him as a whole.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is not only the good and glorious side of you that I&#39;m interested in, it&#39;s also the &quot;flawed&quot; side of you that I crave; things that make you interesting, things that make you a human.&lt;br /&gt;
Everything.&amp;nbsp;Every bit of it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And if the person loves me the same way and as intense, I shouldn&#39;t have to fight for that privilege to have glimpses of his soul.&lt;br /&gt;
If he wants me in his life as much as I want him to be in mine, he&#39;ll just put me there.&lt;br /&gt;
I shouldn&#39;t have to fight for a spot.&lt;br /&gt;
I shouldn&#39;t have to demand for anything.&lt;br /&gt;
And I shouldn&#39;t have to spend a lifetime figuring out who he really is and what kind of a person he is.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You know, it&#39;s not about whether or not you betray or cheat on me, it&#39;s about our connection.&lt;br /&gt;
The moment you stop sharing genuinely, the door to your heart begins to close and the connection begins to fall apart.&lt;br /&gt;
Stop saying that it&#39;s normal for a relationship to evolve and the passion to cool.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To put it simply, I think I deserve to know the real you, with all the truth and honesty.&lt;br /&gt;
Is this too much to ask for?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Perhaps, it&#39;s too much to ask for...&lt;br /&gt;
I hope I&#39;m not asking the wrong person though...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
N&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
P.S. Dear readers, don&#39;t let my negativity affect you.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/5871778748971146068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/09/too-much-to-ask-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/5871778748971146068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/5871778748971146068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/09/too-much-to-ask-for.html' title='Too Much to Ask For?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-9012930447841871401</id><published>2013-09-22T23:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2013-09-22T23:17:50.838+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forever Crazy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
*Warning: Contains pictures with nudity&lt;/div&gt;
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What cheered me up was...&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Alcx1rZ6BPI/Uj8CyW7z3vI/AAAAAAAABV8/Qd6PSJLtQsY/s1600/1925090ygzdyv78jyhg3yr.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Alcx1rZ6BPI/Uj8CyW7z3vI/AAAAAAAABV8/Qd6PSJLtQsY/s320/1925090ygzdyv78jyhg3yr.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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the Crazy Horse Paris and their Forever Crazy show in town!&lt;/div&gt;
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Crazy Horse (or Le Crazy), established in 1951, is the world&#39;s sexiest cabaret.&lt;/div&gt;
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The show is more than strip dance or burlesque; the dances are fun, creative and tasteful.&lt;/div&gt;
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The &quot;Crazy Girls&quot; (dancers) don&#39;t necessarily have the typical sexy &quot;Playmates&quot; bodies but they are very feminine.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tD7jV5lH7qc/Uj8C3Ef3MTI/AAAAAAAABWM/UWojfGjsxKg/s1600/crazyhorse.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;266&quot; src=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tD7jV5lH7qc/Uj8C3Ef3MTI/AAAAAAAABWM/UWojfGjsxKg/s400/crazyhorse.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Sitting in the front row turned out to be just perfect.&lt;/div&gt;
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The stage wasn&#39;t too near nor was it high above eye level.&lt;/div&gt;
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Close enough to see the dancers (and their amazingly silky smooth bodies) as well as their dance moves clearly.&lt;/div&gt;
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I really like how the Crazy Horse celebrates the beauty of women and the art of nude while still keeping it fun, chic and classy.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uG7A-Pe4dz0/Uj8FoWV2n2I/AAAAAAAABWg/mMDafut2pck/s1600/28467_at-slide.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;246&quot; src=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uG7A-Pe4dz0/Uj8FoWV2n2I/AAAAAAAABWg/mMDafut2pck/s400/28467_at-slide.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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The dances are unexpectedly fun and creative.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Each one is different from the last.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Visual effects, lighting and the music all went well.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Maybe except for one dance in which the spotlight was blindingly right in my face and I could barely open my eyes to watch the girls twirling around the poles.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6t81NrIgtak/Uj8C2QcePDI/AAAAAAAABWE/UPbSMAW0fyc/s1600/baby+buns.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;270&quot; src=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6t81NrIgtak/Uj8C2QcePDI/AAAAAAAABWE/UPbSMAW0fyc/s400/baby+buns.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Other than that, I enjoyed the whole show and almost all the dances.&lt;/div&gt;
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And the costumes are glamorous.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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All of a sudden, wearing a wig seemed to be a very sexy and tempting idea.&lt;/div&gt;
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Oh! And also the very classic but seductive outfit--a trench coat and nothing inside!&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pQUBvQklIos/Uj8C4UF5aII/AAAAAAAABWU/yiMo3cNfVKs/s1600/leg+maniac.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;266&quot; src=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pQUBvQklIos/Uj8C4UF5aII/AAAAAAAABWU/yiMo3cNfVKs/s400/leg+maniac.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Going to a Crazy Horse show is a great idea for a girls&#39; night out.&lt;/div&gt;
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Of course, it could be also a nice way to turn the heat up for couples on their date night too!&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-knwINapbiSs/Uj2zVacQH4I/AAAAAAAABVs/kfg35oG5PZ4/s1600/1255176_719575888058318_154142599_n.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-knwINapbiSs/Uj2zVacQH4I/AAAAAAAABVs/kfg35oG5PZ4/s320/1255176_719575888058318_154142599_n.jpg&quot; width=&quot;228&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: -webkit-auto;&quot;&gt;Dear readers,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: -webkit-auto;&quot;&gt;Stay sexy and dare to be crazy! ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Love,&lt;/div&gt;
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N&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/9012930447841871401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/09/forever-crazy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/9012930447841871401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/9012930447841871401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/09/forever-crazy.html' title='Forever Crazy'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Alcx1rZ6BPI/Uj8CyW7z3vI/AAAAAAAABV8/Qd6PSJLtQsY/s72-c/1925090ygzdyv78jyhg3yr.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-3676701499453785453</id><published>2013-09-21T22:45:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2013-09-22T22:46:20.913+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Last Straw</title><content type='html'>Have been updating for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Work is such a contradiction; it&#39;s enriching, sometimes fulfilling, but at the same time draining and not very inspiring.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Just as I thought I&#39;m pass the phase of losing control over my emotions and taking everything too seriously, I was proven wrong...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Probation is finally over, which means I have been working for 6 months.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Do I like my job?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Of course it is not the best/perfect job, but I appreciate most of it usually.&lt;/div&gt;
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While both of my bosses are pretty happy with my performance, I found out something that I&#39;m not very happy with: someone is backstabbing me.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It is not difficult to find out who the backstabber is, it is actually pretty obvious.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Well, there are a few reasons why she hates me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And seriously, if a girl on her first proper job can spot your motivation and the insecurity behind the smear campaign, you should stop calling yourself a diplomat.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
To be honest, I was bothered by the fact that someone &quot;toxic&quot; is making effort in ruining my reputation and devaluing me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Luckily, it didn&#39;t take me long to decide that she doesn&#39;t deserve the attention.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I have goals and targets and kissing her ass isn&#39;t on the list.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I shouldn&#39;t let her distract me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And I have enough self-respect that I won&#39;t allow myself to fall victim to her false accusations and abusive comments.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Ok, office politics settled for now.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What really was the last straw was the gatherings with relatives.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Hypocrisy, boastful and arrogant people, indifference and empty-headedness...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
All the exact opposites of what my real family as well as my boyfriend&#39;s family are.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Dinner was painfully long, then followed by an equally boring brunch the next day.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I went home, locked myself up in my room and had a full-fledged melt down.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It scared my boyfriend when I texted him very negative messages and was crying so so hard when he called me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Then a few hours later, a pleasant surprise came to my rescue...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Wanna know what that was?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Please read the next post. :)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Love,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
N&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/3676701499453785453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/09/the-last-straw.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/3676701499453785453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/3676701499453785453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/09/the-last-straw.html' title='The Last Straw'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-410022202538369988</id><published>2013-07-22T23:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2013-07-22T23:51:16.084+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On a Day Like This...</title><content type='html'>On a day like this, when I sail though waves of emotions, I have so much to say, so much to write, but no idea where to begin...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No, I am not on an emotional roller coaster and I&#39;m not sad.&lt;br /&gt;
I just have things in my mind that I wanna say.&amp;nbsp;So many that I really don&#39;t need what to start with.&lt;br /&gt;
Ok, I&#39;ll just throw them to you:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why is it that as we grow up, it gets harder and harder for us to realize that we did the wrong thing, or even if we do, it seems that it&#39;s more difficult for us to apologize?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why do I often feel detached to people who are supposedly close to me?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes I have this awkward feeling that I wonder where my family is. I know where exactly they are, physically. And we still keep in touch with the help of modern day technology. But the feeling of distance and intangible makes me feel very insecure.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why do I always feel like I don&#39;t belong? My search for somewhere or people that I can feel comfortable with, is driving me nuts. It&#39;s like I&#39;m constantly on escape.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Almost every morning on the bus, I see a family; a couple and a four year-old girl. Day by day, I witness the little girl&#39;s growth. Little by little, I see her change. Sometimes I dedicate my thoughts of love to her, I hope she can stay happy and sweet for as long as possible. This little girl (and basically most children) amazes me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Good to finally get something out of my mind, at least for a short while.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Goodnight.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
N</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/410022202538369988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/07/on-day-like-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/410022202538369988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/410022202538369988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/07/on-day-like-this.html' title='On a Day Like This...'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-5498781727161696704</id><published>2013-07-16T23:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2013-07-16T23:26:31.738+08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Self"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work"/><title type='text'>A Familiar Challenge?</title><content type='html'>Gladly took up a challenge today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Even though the tasks are different, the essence is still the same: the bittersweet of hard work, the test on one&#39;s persistence, determination and potential, and the sense of achievement and pride afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
While challenges are usually something new and something that gives me that extra stretch, this one feels both new and deja vu at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why?&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like a student again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The wonderful feeling of:&lt;br /&gt;
being tasked to write (especially if it is something important),&lt;br /&gt;
having readings spread all over my desk and&lt;br /&gt;
enjoy the adrenaline rush that comes from both the excitement of the task and the fact that tomorrow is the deadline (even though I was given the task only a few hours ago)&lt;br /&gt;
---some of the reason why I love and miss being a student, not that I can pull all-nighters the way I used to...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I swear my body was a different one, how can I possibly sleep 2 hours/ day for weeks?!&lt;br /&gt;
I must be getting old and getting used to life as a work girl now...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But even so, I am still the same old me. :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
N&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Hopefully will post a few more updates soon, stay tuned)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/5498781727161696704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/07/a-familiar-challenge.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/5498781727161696704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/5498781727161696704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/07/a-familiar-challenge.html' title='A Familiar Challenge?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-9123777136400149517</id><published>2013-07-01T22:01:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2013-07-16T23:29:45.335+08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Postivity"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Self"/><title type='text'>Stay Raw &amp; Real</title><content type='html'>This long weekend is perhaps the best weekend so far, since my family left the city.&lt;br /&gt;
I didn&#39;t do anything spectacular.&lt;br /&gt;
You might wonder, what makes it so nice and different then?&lt;br /&gt;
My answer is: the rawness, realness and inner peace.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No, I didn&#39;t go skinny dipping or go to a nude beach.&lt;br /&gt;
All I did was to be myself and stop forcing myself to do what I don&#39;t feel like doing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just all the small things that I find liberation in:&lt;br /&gt;
the moment when the f word comes out of my lips (or fingertips as I type) for reasons as small as the battery-draining iphone,&lt;br /&gt;
expressing the burning anger when I see people getting stuck in something that limits them and yet still cling to it.&lt;br /&gt;
the honesty without hesitation and fear of how people perceive me&amp;nbsp;as I speak of my desires, needs and thoughts,&lt;br /&gt;
the time when I do what I do best&lt;br /&gt;
and the realization that when I enjoy what I do, I really shine.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There are a few things that inject me with negative thoughts recently, example being:&lt;br /&gt;
the growing distance I feel from someone who is important and close to me and&lt;br /&gt;
the helplessness and fear that come with it,&lt;br /&gt;
the feeling that this cycle of getting-close-and-then-losing-people is never ending&lt;br /&gt;
and the idea that perhaps I don&#39;t belong to where I am right now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m not strong enough to fight with these powerfully negative emotions every time they hit me.&lt;br /&gt;
But I swear, I&#39;m learning.&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes the harder you try, the worse the situation becomes.&lt;br /&gt;
And when that happens, the negativity just drains you even more, squeezing even the last drop of your energy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I stopped&amp;nbsp;forcing myself to get used to things I don&#39;t like or engage in conversations that don&#39;t excite me.&lt;br /&gt;
And it turned out to be the right thing to do: just follow your instinct, stay raw and real.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like I just wanna scream &quot;fuck you! Why didn&#39;t you charge your phone?!&quot;, so I did.&lt;br /&gt;
I didn&#39;t feel like talking to some of my relatives at the wedding, so I didn&#39;t force myself to.&lt;br /&gt;
Instead, I enjoyed myself talking to a Scottish couple I met at the wedding.&lt;br /&gt;
It is ironic that I feel comfortable talking to strangers than with my own relatives, but what&#39;s important is not who I impress, but the fact that I stay true to myself and only do what makes me feel good.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had yoga classes 2 days in a row.&lt;br /&gt;
I guess by now you already know that I love having sore muscles after workout, coz it&#39;s raw, real and sexy somehow.&lt;br /&gt;
And yoga helps me reconnect with my body which is amazing beyond words.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But with sore muscles from the first class yesterday, I was holding back and not going 100% with the stretching today.&lt;br /&gt;
Then something quite interesting and meaningful happened.&lt;br /&gt;
My Indian instructor walked towards me, knowing that I could stretch more than I did, he pressed me down.&lt;br /&gt;
And while he was doing that, he gently said, &quot;in life, we learn more while we are in pain, than we are in happiness. Don&#39;t resist the pain and suffering, let go, accept and learn from it.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
Physically I didn&#39;t resist, I just relax and stretched more than I thought I could.&lt;br /&gt;
Mentally, what he said stroke me hard and I felt great inner peace--it&amp;nbsp;was a good reminder.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Looking back, it is true that I learnt most during the hard times.&lt;br /&gt;
And what helped me to go through those unbearably awful times was not to blend in, but to stay different.&lt;br /&gt;
The same applies now: I don&#39;t have to do what people expect me to do, I don&#39;t have to keep thoughts to myself just because there are &quot;rules&quot; that I have to be abide to.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No rules, no perfection/imperfection, no &quot;do&quot;s and &quot;don&#39;t&quot;s, no fear and no worries.&lt;br /&gt;
Just real feelings, emotions, thoughts, with all honesty, sincerity and love.&lt;br /&gt;
Staying true to myself and appreciating life as it is--these are the things that bring me back the great inner peace that I have been missing for a couple of months.&lt;br /&gt;
And now that I feel in tune with myself again, it is a bit like finding something that was lost--the joy is beyond words.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Perhaps all my lack of confidence and loneliness originate from the lost connection with my inner self.&lt;br /&gt;
I hope this inner peace I&#39;m experiencing can stay as long as I can, and to keep it with me, I&#39;m gonna stay raw, real and honest.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dear readers,&lt;br /&gt;
I wish you the same inner peace and love that I&#39;m feeling right now.&lt;br /&gt;
Sending you love in the air, feel it? :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
N</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/9123777136400149517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/07/stay-raw-real.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/9123777136400149517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/9123777136400149517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/07/stay-raw-real.html' title='Stay Raw &amp; Real'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-1362043534118634178</id><published>2013-06-23T16:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2013-06-24T12:45:26.332+08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Little Thoughts"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Self"/><title type='text'>Inspirations from my Baby Niece</title><content type='html'>Went to the baby shower of my niece.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Babies are such amazing creatures--they smell nice, incredibly soft and chubby, like marshmallows and their tiny hands and feet.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And when they smile, it is as if they tell you with their smiles, &quot;I come from heaven/fairytales.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Like all newborn, my baby niece is cute by default.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
She grabbed my finger, smiled at me and stared at me with her round innocent eyes.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The moment her tiny hand grabbed my finger, she eased me a bit.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It is not the baby that makes me feel uncomfortable and alienated.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
God knows I&#39;m most comfortable with children in these occasions.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It is everyone around her that I am not at ease with.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
No, I don&#39;t hide in corners to play with my phone.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I take a deep breathe, walk in looking relaxed, mingle and chat, smile and talk.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
That is my mission of the night.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But the truth is, the voice in my head that urges me to leave was louder than the party itself.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Got myself a drink, chatted with a bunch of people on boring cliche topics, walked to my cousin&#39;s wife, &amp;nbsp;played with the baby, handed the wife an envelope of cash...most of the mission was accomplished when she took the envelope.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The way all of a sudden she smiled so broadly after the envelope landed on her fingertips makes me sick.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I don&#39;t want to look at her for a second more.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I looked at my baby niece instead--this innocent newborn whose world is still purely beautiful, new and exciting.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
No, she won&#39;t be able to see the dark side of the world as she is one of the lucky ones.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
She would be pampered like a princess. With all my heart, I hope she won&#39;t be spoiled like my cousin.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And I know exactly what&#39;s in front of her as she grows.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
There won&#39;t be that much of laughter in her family,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
fun things are not always allowed,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
her choices are limited,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
she doesn&#39;t need to study hard,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
she is already born with a high-ranking post in the family business whether or not she can do business,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
the &quot;family friends&quot; are the business partners&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
and so on.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I have seen this too many times.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Basically most of the kids in the family live this pattern.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The moment I realized this pattern, I respect my parents even more.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
They want something more than this, they want to break the cycle.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
They want laughter in the house, the warmth and love, hugs, real conversation and even heated argument and tears, followed by sincere apologies and hugs.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Things that are raw and real.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A family that is human.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I was there at the banquet, people asked me about my job, interested in whether I have insiders&#39; news and connections.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Motives are such turn-offs.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And frankly speaking, most people are pretty bad with disguising their motives.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The only message I sent them is: I&#39;m happy with my job. I&#39;m not interested in your business. Good luck.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
In a sea of around 200 guests, I looked around and the sight saddened me--all familiar faces, none I can have a real conversation or a good laugh with.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
(Maybe except the kids, they are happy to see me and I do like being surrounded by kids showing me their drawings and asking me questions.)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I found myself looking around several time, perhaps I was unconsciously looking for my family and my &amp;nbsp;cousin who was like a brother to me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The overwhelming loneliness is so immense and unbearable that I lost words and remained very quiet for some time, until some other guests came to talk to me and out of basic manners, I am left with no choice but to respond.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It is almost a year since my cousin passed away and still the sense of loss and grief is there, painful and unhealed.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Like any other loss of human life, his death is supposed to teach us something about life and be an inspiration to us in living a better life.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
As I overheard people around me talking about Grand Cru Classe red wine, investment, love affairs, gossips and basically everything that has nothing to do with the newborn or life, I feel the invisible wall between me and my so-called family thickens.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
How ironic it is to be a complete stranger to those who I am related by blood, while I can be close at heart with people who were once strangers but now close with me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And even more ironic, that I cannot have a real conversation with some of my family while I am opening up to readers who I have never met and perhaps never will.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Isn&#39;t life interesting?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Another family event coming up, a wedding, let&#39;s see if I get a different inspiration next week.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I hope it&#39;s gonna be something more pleasant.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Love,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
N&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/1362043534118634178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/06/inspirations-from-my-baby-niece.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/1362043534118634178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/1362043534118634178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/06/inspirations-from-my-baby-niece.html' title='Inspirations from my Baby Niece'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-6048565105217313461</id><published>2013-06-09T22:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2013-06-09T22:42:43.857+08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Little Thoughts"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Self"/><title type='text'>A New Stage</title><content type='html'>Dear readers,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sorry that I was absent for quite some time.&lt;br /&gt;
Thank you for sticking around. I&#39;m back.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes, people are surprisingly adaptive, aren&#39;t we?&lt;br /&gt;
Every time I am confronted with changes or something new, I find myself fearfully clinging on the old and usual, saying things like &quot;I can&#39;t image what it is like to &lt;u&gt;(do/ have sth new)&lt;/u&gt;. Is it possible that I live without &lt;u&gt;(sth old)&lt;/u&gt;?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
Part with the fear and embrace changes--something that I am learning and trying to do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It has only been two to three months since my &quot;new&quot; life as a working adult started, and I&#39;m already quite used to it now.&lt;br /&gt;
Not too long ago, most of my spendings were coming from my parents and my savings.&lt;br /&gt;
Now, I spend what I earn, not just on shopping, but also bills of all sorts.&lt;br /&gt;
It is not difficult to notice that I&#39;m entering a new stage in my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am glad that my sense of security is coming back, along with work and a routined life, but at the same time, I caution myself not to fall into the trap of a boring life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Along with the glory of &quot;growing up&quot;, I found answers to some of the questions I always have in mind.&lt;br /&gt;
Questions like: why people no longer appreciate their job and life? Why do people feel bored and what turns people boring?&lt;br /&gt;
I figured out why whenever I ask my friends &quot;how&#39;s work?&quot; or &quot;how&#39;s life?&quot;, some of them always give me the same answer--&quot;as usual&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you flip through my daily schedule, you will find out that I live a routine like this, 5 days each week:&lt;br /&gt;
Wake up, get dressed, make breakfast, hop onto the bus, arrive at office early, work, lunch, work, lave work, go home, eat, relax, sleep---basically the same old routine that 99% of the workforce is having.&lt;br /&gt;
Well, maybe I don&#39;t work overtime and it&#39;s much better than people, but still, the idea and the hard fact is that:&lt;br /&gt;
I have a boring life too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At the moment, I am really happy with my job.&lt;br /&gt;
But I still hear a faint voice somewhere in my head asking, &quot;is this it? Do you settle with what you have or do you want more?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
Looking back, I&#39;m already quite amazed by how far I have went.&lt;br /&gt;
But my contentment should never be the reason why I don&#39;t keep going further.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If I stop right here, getting laid-back to enjoy the thrills that come along with a new stage, I won&#39;t grow up or at least I won&#39;t be growing up to my full potentials.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dear readers,&lt;br /&gt;
Is your life becoming a routine now?&lt;br /&gt;
Are you in your comfort zone, fearful of changes while secretly wanting them or wondering how it would be if you dare to make some bold changes?&lt;br /&gt;
Is there anything you don&#39;t like about your life now?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you answer any of the question with a &quot;yes&quot;, I think we share something similar--time for new goals and challenges!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes life forces us to start new chapters.&lt;br /&gt;
But sometimes, we have to be the ones who lift ourselves to a new stage.&lt;br /&gt;
And I guess it is better that we do it ourselves when the choice is still ours to make, am I right?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
N&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
P.S. It&#39;s good to be back. :)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/6048565105217313461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/06/a-new-stage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/6048565105217313461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/6048565105217313461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/06/a-new-stage.html' title='A New Stage'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-3005194259390430755</id><published>2013-05-12T18:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2013-05-12T18:30:13.280+08:00</updated><title type='text'>2013 Mother&#39;s Day</title><content type='html'>Mother&#39;s day. Not a very special occasion for my family.&lt;div&gt;
We don&#39;t really make a fuss about it.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Like any other day, we usually fill Mother&#39;s Day (or Father&#39;s day) with hugs, laughter, food and lots of love--exactly what I love about my family.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
This is perhaps only the second time that I&#39;m not spending Mother&#39;s Day with my mom.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The other time when my mother was not with me on Mother&#39;s Day was in 1997.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
She was in Canada, waiting to give birth to my brother, who was born in late May.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Today, I have lunch with my grandparents and relatives.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Why do I have to attend the &#39;celebration&#39;?-- Maybe I&#39;m just mentally tired, but&amp;nbsp;I couldn&#39;t really process this and figure out why.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I called my parents this morning, had a long chat with them.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So, what&#39;s the point of celebrating Mother&#39;s Day when my mum isn&#39;t even here?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Despite the awkwardness I feel, I was still there at the lunch.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Oops! Let&#39;s rewind a bit.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Before the lunch, I broke down and cried like a baby, simply because I miss my mom too much and I didn&#39;t know what to do except crying it all out.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I was crying so hard that when my grandma saw me crying, she ended up crying herself too.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So basically the both of us ended up hugging and crying -- definitely not the best way to celebrate the day.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The only thing I want to do is to give my mom a big warm hug, like how we used to hug every single day.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And I&#39;d love to share with her painting of Pino Daeni because some of his works remind me so much of my mum and the special moments we share.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
Mom, thank you for being the most loving person in the world.&lt;br /&gt;
I grow up aspiring to be a loving woman just like you.&lt;br /&gt;
Miss you &amp;amp; love you. :&#39;)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
N&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/3005194259390430755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/05/2013-mothers-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/3005194259390430755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/3005194259390430755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/05/2013-mothers-day.html' title='2013 Mother&#39;s Day'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bo07TmOSufo/UY9tnUbl6HI/AAAAAAAABUo/h0iDZ3HHRdQ/s72-c/Close-to-my-heart.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-2699955917672482350</id><published>2013-05-05T04:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2013-05-05T14:23:04.044+08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Little Thoughts"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Self"/><title type='text'>Madness</title><content type='html'>These days, whenever I&#39;m asked how I am feeling,&lt;br /&gt;
the answer in my head is &quot;um...I think there is a Hulk inside me trying to break out. Help me.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
while words that spill out from the tip of my tongue is &quot;I&#39;m okay, thank you.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hypocrisy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Even the tinniest thing makes me burn with anger.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For example that mega size rubber duck that is in town.&lt;br /&gt;
The madness is not the rubber duck itself, but the crowd that flooded the district just to see that rubber duck.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
People in our time are the weirdest--they get impressed by basically everything.&lt;br /&gt;
That stupid game Candy Crush, a mega size rubber duck...how old are they really?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Even though I get angry, I didn&#39;t let it out.&lt;br /&gt;
No shouting, no screaming, no crying, no throwing a temper...just nothing and nowhere to channel it.&lt;br /&gt;
This anger just stays inside me, corrodes and gobbles me up alive.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There must be something wrong with me.&lt;br /&gt;
Is it stress, frustration, sadness, anger, or just the pure madness after mixing everything together?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Other than this anger coming from nowhere, the inner devil in me is driving me insane as well.&lt;br /&gt;
I wanna do all the bad and evil things.&lt;br /&gt;
I wanna destroy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why is it that the intolerably incomprehensibly bad things are always ineluctably, irresistibly fun to do?&lt;br /&gt;
The temptations creep underneath your skin, foil along a trail of synapses, pierce though your little brain cells which are cringing themselves in vain to stay morally vigilant...&lt;br /&gt;
But before you know it, you&#39;ve already done it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why is it that doing the seemingly &#39;wrong&#39; things always brings that inexplicably good feeling?&lt;br /&gt;
And they turn you into this person with &#39;stories to tell&#39;, making you so much more interesting, mysterious and attractive.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Pain and pleasure go hand in hand.&lt;br /&gt;
But sometimes, pleasure come and go and leaves the pain behind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Looking at the scratch marks, I am terrified--what have I done?&lt;br /&gt;
With my fingertips, I gently trace the red, slightly swollen scratch marks one by one, hoping to ease the pain.&lt;br /&gt;
At that moment, I am most certain that there must be a monster in me.&lt;br /&gt;
Just an ugly, pure evil monster.&lt;br /&gt;
And it makes me a little scared...of myself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
N&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/2699955917672482350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/05/madness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/2699955917672482350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/2699955917672482350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/05/madness.html' title='Madness'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-195421590719461186</id><published>2013-04-28T16:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2013-04-28T16:05:01.720+08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fear"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poem"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Relationship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Writing"/><title type='text'>The Perfect Pause</title><content type='html'>Dear readers,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have you ever experienced a moment so intense and electrifying that time stopped and you paralyzed?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Inspired by a dream that I had a week or two ago, and some recent events, I wrote a poem titled the Perfect Pause.&lt;br /&gt;
It is raw but that&#39;s how I want my poems to be--simple, raw and exactly how I feel.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here is to people and the moments that take my breath away,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;u&gt;The Perfect Pause&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
You look at me.&lt;br /&gt;
No,&amp;nbsp;your gaze so intense&lt;br /&gt;
you are trying to absorb me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You hold my face in your palm&lt;br /&gt;
as if I am a mirage soon to disappear.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The way you touch my face,&lt;br /&gt;
your fingertips write on my bare skin,&lt;br /&gt;
the poems that I crave.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A spark of fear,&lt;br /&gt;
and a tinge of melancholy&lt;br /&gt;
flickering in your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The first time I see in you&lt;br /&gt;
the dance of sadness&lt;br /&gt;
and hear your silent cry.&lt;br /&gt;
The things that I&amp;nbsp;know best.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You did not turn away,&lt;br /&gt;
nor did you bother to hide,&lt;br /&gt;
the tears in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;
and&amp;nbsp;the fear for goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Looking into you,&lt;br /&gt;
and your eyes meet mine.&lt;br /&gt;
The moment so infinite&lt;br /&gt;
so naked that&lt;br /&gt;
there is nothing more to hide.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The world come to a halt&lt;br /&gt;
with the perfect pause,&lt;br /&gt;
when time has stopped&lt;br /&gt;
for what is mine and yours.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is all I have longed for,&lt;br /&gt;
a journey I long to travel,&lt;br /&gt;
a glimpse into your soul.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
N&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/195421590719461186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/04/the-perfect-pause.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/195421590719461186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/195421590719461186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/04/the-perfect-pause.html' title='The Perfect Pause'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-8830780367057571776</id><published>2013-04-26T09:02:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2013-04-26T09:02:44.557+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hold it</title><content type='html'>Today. Now. On the verge of breaking down.&lt;br /&gt;
Trying my best to hold it.&lt;br /&gt;
This emotional chaos is freaking suffocating.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&#39;(</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/8830780367057571776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/04/hold-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/8830780367057571776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/8830780367057571776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/04/hold-it.html' title='Hold it'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-6883047552100444501</id><published>2013-04-21T21:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2013-04-21T21:24:08.763+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Independence</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;
Though I felt terrible last night, I slept surprisingly well, probably because I was (and still am) exhausted.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I&#39;m still sleep deprived, busy with packing, moving and unpacking.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
These days I am thinking: even though my family aren&#39;t here with me now, it doesn&#39;t really mean I&#39;m independent.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Would it be just...a weight transfer? That I put &#39;weight&#39; on my family, and now putting the weight on others?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
My family has been my anchor and shelter. Their presence give me a sense of security and protection.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Now that they are physical away, it SEEMS that I have to be more independent.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But what if it only means that I&#39;m gonna rely more on others, for example my boyfriend?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I honestly don&#39;t know how I could have moved to the new place without my boyfriend&#39;s help.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I just cant&#39; do this on my own, with my inability to pack and inaccurate perception of how much things I have (basically a severe underestimation).&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
While he was driving and while he was carrying very heavy stuffs, I think to myself, &#39;I&#39;m not really independent, am I?&#39;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Does the fact that I trust him more and more equal to me being less independent?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Then I got confused: Is there anyone who is independent at all?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I still remember my dad says, &#39;don&#39;t depend on a person fully, even though you love him. Protect yourself.&#39;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
At that moment, 5 or 6 years ago, I thought, &#39;if I have reservations and doubts, that means it&#39;s not love.&#39;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And now, I agree with my dad.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Now I kind of understand why some women focus more on their career than relationships.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Career, you can more or less have control of it, if you work hard.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
For relationships, you give your heart away, &lt;i&gt;hoping&lt;/i&gt; that person won&#39;t break it, but you&#39;d never know.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It is quite inevitable that as you trust a person, you open up to this person more, you become more vulnerable.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It is basically that you place a bet on this person, giving him/her part of your heart, trusting that he/she won&#39;t break it.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But there&#39;s no guarantee at all.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
This is particularly an important thing for a woman to learn how to be both independent and humble at the same time.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
On one hand, I have to constantly remind myself not to be over-reliant on or burden others.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
On the other, I don&#39;t wanna be so toughed up that I become too strong that I basically have no emotion and could&#39;t have emotional connection with anyone.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
While I strive to be better, I think to be human and just a flawed human is actually a very beautiful thing.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It really is one of the most beautiful things in life.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Dear readers,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
What does &#39;independence&#39; mean to you?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Felt so much better after skyping my family and writing this post.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I still haven&#39;t figured out what exactly does being independent means, whether it only means making choices for yourself and bearing the responsibilities and consequences afterwards, or something more.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But I guess to ponder upon life and introspection are some pretty good start. :)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Love,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
N&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/6883047552100444501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/04/independence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/6883047552100444501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/6883047552100444501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/04/independence.html' title='Independence'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-3181058897012359205</id><published>2013-04-21T00:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2013-04-21T00:22:00.270+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost</title><content type='html'>Feeling so out of control as if someone throw me out of my life and put me in a different one.&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
All of a sudden, this place I grew up in seem like a foreign land---a foreign land on which I understand every single word people utter and shout and understand how this place works, but still hear this voice in my mind that asks, &#39;is this home?&#39;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I dragged myself out for a walk around the new place, a nearby by very different district.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
After walking for about half an hour, I found myself in a district which I absolutely hate---the noise, the dirt, the crowd, the feeling of decay, the sight of chaos, the stink...everything basically.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
My mood, together with the fact that I don&#39;t feel comfortable in that area, I skipped dinner.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I just want to be in a safe and quiet place, with the most simple food. Or maybe forget the food, give me &amp;nbsp;drinks.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I headed back &#39;home&#39;, I don&#39;t even wanna call this home yet but yea, you know what I mean.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&#39;Okay, getting drunk on the first day definitely won&#39;t make me the good-granddaughter type of girl,&#39; I thought to myself.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Even though I don&#39;t care to build an image, self-discipline kicked in.&amp;nbsp;And this time I listened to the inner good girl in me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I took a shower, did a bit of unpacking and tidying, spent a bit of time reading and listening to music...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And here I am, trying to write to calm myself.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Sometimes it&#39;s those who are lost and discontent that live the seemingly most organized and clean life, exactly because they want to create order to make themselves feel better.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And today, I&#39;m one of them.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
This inner chaos and imbalance won&#39;t last forever, but at this moment, it sucks to feel what I&#39;m feeling.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
When I feel better, I&#39;m gonna write another more organized piece on how I feel.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And like the title of this post, I&#39;m feeling so lost and this post is meaningless.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Time to stop I guess.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Goodnight.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Love,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
N&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/3181058897012359205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/04/lost.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/3181058897012359205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/3181058897012359205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/04/lost.html' title='Lost'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-4370905581840532760</id><published>2013-03-30T03:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2013-03-30T03:04:48.280+08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Little Thoughts"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Postivity"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Self"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work"/><title type='text'>A Working Girl or a Superwoman?</title><content type='html'>&#39;Brunch and shopping? I&#39;m free...oh! I&#39;m not...&#39;&lt;br /&gt;
Okay I&#39;d like to think that I am still free for brunch and shopping, but if you read the previous post, it&#39;s clear that things have changed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, here is a day in the life of...me, March 2013.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wake up early.&lt;br /&gt;
I hear my alarm &lt;strike&gt;30 minutes after it went off&lt;/strike&gt; at 7, hop out of bed and get ready.&lt;br /&gt;
After freshening up, the first thing I is &lt;strike&gt;to&amp;nbsp;update my Tumblr &lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;getting some fresh air outdoors and hear birds sing.&lt;br /&gt;
Then I have my breakfast quietly, &lt;strike&gt;because I still feel sleepy after 8 hours of sleep&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;enjoying the morning calm after a quick shower.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strike&gt;I wanna crawl back on my bed.&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;I&#39;m ready for a brand new, exciting day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s 7:45a.m. I get back to my room, open my closet, &lt;strike&gt;thinking that I should have picked my outfit the night before&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;knowing exactly what I want to wear.&lt;br /&gt;
I spend &lt;strike&gt;a minimum of &lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;less than 15 mins &lt;strike&gt;thinking of an outfit &lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;dressing up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strike&gt;As much as I want to wear a maxi dress, &lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;I put on a simple and chic outfit for work&lt;strike&gt;, comprise of the first pieces of clothing I see when I open my closet&lt;/strike&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
I put my hair up in a loose bun or a pony tail&lt;strike&gt;, as I have over 50% of chance that I have a bad hair day.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
And of course, makeup &lt;strike&gt;to cover my dark circles, even though it doesn&#39;t seem to work very well.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s 8a.m. and I leave my place, hop on to the minibus and then &lt;strike&gt;the insanely crowded &lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;MTR &lt;strike&gt;which drives me crazy.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I get there at 8:30a.m., half an hour earlier than my office hours.&lt;br /&gt;
I like my office, it&#39;s right above the MTR, so convenient.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 20px;&quot;&gt;Once I&#39;m back in my office, I start &lt;strike&gt;making tea &lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;working right away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 20px;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, Times, serif; font-size: 15px; font: inherit; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 18px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;It’s 9:00 and a colleague brings me all the newspapers I need.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;An email alert pops up to remind me that I have a meeting in 45 mins..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;strike&gt;Oh my! I totally forgot about that! &lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;Great! I am totally ready.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;In less than 20 mins, I &lt;strike&gt;use the speed of light to read through everything&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;do a re-cap with the documents I already prepared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
Then I start getting myself ready and go to the conference room &lt;strike&gt;with a blank mind.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I always&amp;nbsp;&lt;strike&gt;dash to the conference room when I see my boss coming out from his room&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;get there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;early.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;After the meeting, I have to re-schedule my priorities of tasks&amp;nbsp;&lt;strike&gt;which means I can never finish the newspapers that are piling up on my desk.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I am super productive so I can always finish my morning tasks before lunch, 1 p.m.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, Times, serif; font-size: 15px; font: inherit; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 18px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;
&lt;strike&gt;Usually at around 12:45, I start counting down for lunch.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Time for lunch!&lt;br /&gt;
As soon as I leave the elevator, I see many others rushing for lunch-- &lt;strike&gt;damn! Could I still get a seat in the restaurant?! And I have to wait for my food for god knows how long! &lt;/strike&gt;What a vibrant and lively city!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strike&gt;Since I&#39;m a boring person&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strike&gt;To simplify my life, I usually go to the same place.&lt;br /&gt;
I have quite a healthy diet now.&lt;br /&gt;
I still have half of my lunch break left, so I rest and relax in my office and really enjoy some private time.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, Times, serif; font-size: 15px; font: inherit; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 18px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;
After lunch, half&amp;nbsp;the stack of newspapers is still on my desk, &lt;strike&gt;unfortunately.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
While I read the newspapers, my fingers are stained with ink, I wash my hands frequently, &lt;strike&gt;so frequent that I&#39;m afraid I&#39;ll have obsessive-compulsive disorder.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
After the clippings and analysis, I clear them out as I like to keep my office as organized as possible &lt;strike&gt;because I am trying very hard to not to be as messy as I naturally am.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Around 4pm, I &lt;strike&gt;start stressing myself out because I just realize that I still have some un-finished tasks&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strike&gt;finish everything and have a break.&lt;br /&gt;
If I run out of things to do &lt;strike&gt;which rarely happens,&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;I start writing up or even clearing the next day&#39;s to-do list,&amp;nbsp;&lt;strike&gt;I wish.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At 5: 30, everyone is still working and I start &lt;strike&gt;thinking if I stay for another 5 mins &lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;packing up and leave.&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t know why they always stay behind till late---I am always leaving pretty on time.&lt;br /&gt;
I have a life, and even if I love what I do, I need to keep everything in balance.&lt;br /&gt;
That said, I turn off the lights of my office, say goodbye to everyone and leave my office with &lt;strike&gt;exhaustion&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strike&gt;a smile.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i31_uuG8DvY/UVXkG802NkI/AAAAAAAABSg/FWImwImEmpw/s1600/winston-churchill-quotes-sayings-wise-deep-attitude.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;251&quot; src=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i31_uuG8DvY/UVXkG802NkI/AAAAAAAABSg/FWImwImEmpw/s400/winston-churchill-quotes-sayings-wise-deep-attitude.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, Times, serif; font-size: 15px; font: inherit; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 18px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;&quot;&gt;
Dear readers,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;Not all the crossed-out parts is what the &#39;real me&#39; do or think, and of course I can&#39;t have my energy up for all day long either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m sure my daily work routine is like a zillion others&#39;, but I want to point out one thing:&lt;br /&gt;
Attitude changes everything. It&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;really does matter and makes a whole lot of difference.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Having a positive mind means you are more efficient and productive, you do your work better and enjoy it more and you get along with people better--isn&#39;t it all we want from work?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;So, don&#39;t forget to smile and keep your head up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;Remind yourself to d&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;iscover something new each day and never stop learning!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I do enjoy working my ass off--I believe in the value of hard work and actually EARNING something with effort.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5f7MV1caWew/UVXkFw4FPGI/AAAAAAAABSY/JSpRKqcAv3E/s1600/tumblr_m9s0mmBS9s1rf4881o1_400.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;285&quot; src=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5f7MV1caWew/UVXkFw4FPGI/AAAAAAAABSY/JSpRKqcAv3E/s400/tumblr_m9s0mmBS9s1rf4881o1_400.png&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Whether you are a worker ant or a superman (or superwoman), it&#39;s yours to choose.&lt;br /&gt;
I hope this post gives you a bit of power and support.&lt;br /&gt;
Love life. :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
N&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/4370905581840532760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/03/a-working-girl-or-superwoman.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/4370905581840532760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/4370905581840532760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/03/a-working-girl-or-superwoman.html' title='A Working Girl or a Superwoman?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i31_uuG8DvY/UVXkG802NkI/AAAAAAAABSg/FWImwImEmpw/s72-c/winston-churchill-quotes-sayings-wise-deep-attitude.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115427750227411559.post-2163470520294626506</id><published>2013-03-18T22:31:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2013-03-25T19:25:33.625+08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Self"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work"/><title type='text'>Just Breathe</title><content type='html'>Every Monday mornings of the next 3 years, I am going to be surrounded by all the newspapers in this city.&lt;br /&gt;
Including those from the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;
And those from another city.&lt;br /&gt;
And the international news.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The smell of ink,&lt;br /&gt;
fingertips stained black,&lt;br /&gt;
sound of rustling paper,&lt;br /&gt;
the ticking of the imaginary clock inside my mind,&lt;br /&gt;
thousands and thousands of words that flood me,&lt;br /&gt;
pictures of people who tragically died,&lt;br /&gt;
crimes that disgust me...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hear my heart beating fast,&lt;br /&gt;
I feel my heartbeat in my eardrums.&lt;br /&gt;
My head goes blank, completely blank.&lt;br /&gt;
What an ironic contrast with the papers that surround me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1Nt1XqCk4p0/UUclDkowOjI/AAAAAAAABR8/XfBQ2R0ytmc/s1600/tumblr_m7e8ar6yOP1qc9b4co1_1280.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; src=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1Nt1XqCk4p0/UUclDkowOjI/AAAAAAAABR8/XfBQ2R0ytmc/s320/tumblr_m7e8ar6yOP1qc9b4co1_1280.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A sudden short of breath,&lt;br /&gt;
then I gasped for air.&lt;br /&gt;
The surge of air into my lungs awakens me--I&#39;m still alive.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&#39;Did I almost got a panic attack?&#39; I asked myself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I say to myself,&lt;br /&gt;
&#39;it&#39;s just some readings. They can&#39;t harm you to the tiniest bit.&lt;br /&gt;
Slow down. Breathe. One piece at a time.&#39;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes, even the smallest thing can be overwhelming and suffocating.&lt;br /&gt;
And all you have to do is stay calm and just breathe, and disassociate yourself from the stress, panic and anxiety and just do it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
More tasks given to me,&lt;br /&gt;
packing almost every night to move to grandparents&#39; place,&lt;br /&gt;
parents and brother already confirmed their tickets,&lt;br /&gt;
family leaving in just a month...&lt;br /&gt;
Bit by bit these stressors, and the immense loneliness, consume me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dear readers,&lt;br /&gt;
If you happen to be in stress and any kind of overwhelming situation, remember you are not alone.&lt;br /&gt;
Breathe, just breathe.&lt;br /&gt;
You can do it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jserz9EgzVQ/UUclEqJlhXI/AAAAAAAABSE/HZB39_r3nDA/s1600/tumblr_lpb90mliow1qzr5ipo1_500.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jserz9EgzVQ/UUclEqJlhXI/AAAAAAAABSE/HZB39_r3nDA/s400/tumblr_lpb90mliow1qzr5ipo1_500.jpg&quot; width=&quot;336&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
N</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/feeds/2163470520294626506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/03/just-breathe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/2163470520294626506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/115427750227411559/posts/default/2163470520294626506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://subtlyextreme.blogspot.com/2013/03/just-breathe.html' title='Just Breathe'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1Nt1XqCk4p0/UUclDkowOjI/AAAAAAAABR8/XfBQ2R0ytmc/s72-c/tumblr_m7e8ar6yOP1qc9b4co1_1280.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>