“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.” ― Oscar Wilde

I’m scared to be me. Honestly, what if people think I’m so weird and they don’t wanna be my friend. Ugh there are so many thoughts in my head about being me or being an acceptable version of me.

Besides, being me is so weird (yes even I find myself weird or maybe it’s cause I know what’s normal which makes me think that whatever I do IS weird?? Does that make sense):

I’ve talked to random people in the train stations, i ask why even though i know the answer to a question, but i just don’t know why is it that answer; you get me?

There are so many other oddball things only i do, or, at least it seems that way in my family.

i think people who are 100% themselves to other people are courageous. Because they put themselves out there for people to criticise, to understand, to find.





Sleep Paralysis pt. 3

Having had experience in about a month’s worth of SP, I’ve had a wide range of experiences:

Feeling of floating out of body, don’t remember if i really did :3

Strangers touching me

Strangers talking about whether they should kill me



Absolutely monstrous voices demanding i renounce JESUS as Lord and Saviour

Same voices which start out as lovely and kind but turn scary when i refuse to renounce



I’ve had a lot of experiences..the last two are prolly reasons why people tend to relate this to a spiritual related attack of some kind. But yeah, they can be explained by science too.

Ultimately, the way I escaped this nightmare was praying and calling on GOD when those voices demanded me to renounce Jesus. And those times, my body somehow managed to jump out of REM and i could move my finger and head which broke the REM hold on my body; somehow. According to science, it’s rarely possible. Because following science and logic, the body has different stages of sleep which should go according to sequence. To jump backwards is unnatural, to say the least.
Anyhow, thank you God 🙂

Sleep Paralysis Pt. 2

It was bad, I can’t quite explain how bad. I was beyond scared, I was terrified to sleep, to not be able to move and sometimes feel something pressing on my whole body.

It all started with me staying up late to do something, I cannot even remember what it was–prolly watching korean drama and catching up on some episode.Something useless and pointless, but yeah.

I started to sleep late, wake up late and the cycle started. And then, that first night. The first time it happened, like all nights thereafter..I was fully alert, my mind was still conscious but my body had gone into REM sleep; meaning no motor functions, I could not move my legs my nose! nay, not even a finger twitched. I remember desperately wanting to move even a single muscle. I COULD NOT. It scared me so bad, I thought I had a stroke and was paralysed-It was bad.

 I started to feel suffocation while panic was rising in my chest and my mind raced, ‘Why can’t i move?? what’s happening??!!!!! 

And then i blacked out. I learnt later it was just my mind falling asleep too, finally. It felt like my mind was active for an eternity, but it was probably only 5 minutes at the most.

The scariest thing about being in that state is, for myself at least, being able to hear everything so so clearly, the fan, the cats in the neighbour’s yard, the cars driving along the road behind our house. It was so clear and yet, I could not move. My body had fallen asleep, and straight into REM at that.
Imagine while you’re in that state and a burglar comes in, and discusses with his fellow how to dispose of you and your family members. That was one of the horrible scenarios running in my mind those times and with enough experience of SP, you KNOW that the next state for your mind is REM, you cannot even jump back into consciousness to scare the burglars. You are lying there like a sitting duck, unable to do anything but knowing what is going to happen to you and everyone you love. A bit dramatic, but i am miss worst case scenario 😉 
I’ve tried crying myself out of that state. It does not work. All i get is: I wake up in the morning feeling like i cried in a dream. Except it wasn’t in a dream, not really, more like an awake dream ;(

Sleep Paralysis Pt 1

I hallucinated for a month

Everyday for a month

It didn’t start out often, at least, not as a daily thing

But because of certain habits i adopted

This waking nightmare fell upon me

night turned to day, and well, vice versa

Too afraid to sleep

Knowing i’d experience those things again

Of the thick fog

Of the shadows that would weigh down on me

Of the voices near me, in my head, beside it

Of the touches-stroking my hair

Of what they would do, they could do

It still rings clearly in my head as though it were but last night

I shudder to think of those nights and early mornings

As i type this, i’m maintaining a monotonous-as-if-i-could-care mood
But i know, if i write it with too much emotion, it’d get to me
And so close to bedtime
it’d be bad…

I may sound cold and unfeeling but as coping mechanisms go, I’d rather do it this way than deal with unnecessary consequences, if any.

Waiting +

Waiting at the restaurant, waiting in the car, waiting for him to make up his mind, waiting for her to pick up the call..waiting, just waiting.

We’re all just waiting.

During a meal, waiting for the cue to talk, waiting for the other person to finish..

In an argument, waiting for the other person to apologise or accept your apology, waiting for us to be the same again. Same but different..

Answering nature’s call, waiting for the pain to pass, waiting for the job to be finished, waiting to flush..

In classes, waiting for the lecturer to ask questions, waiting to understand, waiting on your friends to pack up their bags..

For us, waiting for you to ask me how my day is, waiting for your status to be online, waiting for another reassurance, waiting to see if it lasts, waiting and waiting..

In a restaurant, waiting for a late friend, waiting for her to come, waiting.. just revelling in the waiting, waiting for what our conversation will bring, memories, laughter and a little sadness. Sadness about you, sadness with you, but happiness too..

 In hunger, waiting for food to fill – it doesn’t,

In contentment, waiting for yourself to be satisfied – you aren’t,

In passion, waiting for it to overflow – it stops at the tip,

In fear, waiting for courage to come – it goes,

In endings, waiting to restart – it pauses.

But in waiting, I find myself learning, thinking even loving. Things don’t HAVE to be definite for me to feel (something) towards it.

New start, a fresh cliche is this title anyway

A fresh slate starts on each new day.

Every day I get is a chance to start again..

So, carpe diem i guess.


p/s: but yes, i cannot get / take back my yesterdays, I can only Move Forward,

and hopefully when i look back on the cumulative days..

i’ll get to say,

”i have no regrets”

cause that’s my motto:

No Regrets.


-The pain of growing up

I really like the song Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men, and after hearing the Alex and Sierra cover it, i like it even more..if that’s possible.

I hate people judging me but I think judgement is inevitable, no matter what I do; I cannot please everyone. I will only please myself and it really is too bad if they judge me for it.

Like this blog, no one else in my family has a blog. And my younger sister disapproves of the amount of time I spend on it: the editing time, finding images online (when needed), editing the sentences, checking for grammar mistakes, re-reading it to see if its too boring, etc. she disapproves of me spending my time on it, ”Its not productive, its distracting you from your studies, it’s not something you should do, you’re wasting your time.” I know. Something that does not pay, that does not benefit me is a waste. And i need to think efficiently in terms of time and what things i can do to bring me monetary benefits (now and in the future). I GET IT. But, you (my sister) you don’t seem to get it.

Like piano. I loved it initially. And then the expectations came in, the greed in their eyes, they could only see me as someone who could provide something to them because of what I’d started learning, something that started from passion, and innocent curiousity…they (my parents) turned it into a possible business venture for my future (more like their own future which they never managed to live out).

Like accounting. I fell in love with it when I first heard my tuition teacher talking about it, he was on one of his semi serious rants on how there are hardly any ethical accountants/ auditors. And I remember thinking to myself; I want to be an ethical accountant, I’ll make you proud teacher. (I think I’ve told you guys about this rant before and how my love for accounting came about; no?) Teacher Derrick, the best accounting teacher I had in high school, no matter that you were only a tuition teacher; you are the best, sir. But now, everyone looks at it like something like like LIKE something so worldly, I hate it.

Like my art. I love making accessories, cards, drawings, etc. i love using my hands to create art. But my parents wanted to use that for me to open a shop online, blog shop to sell it all, everything I made. At first I tried to play along to their plan, to try venture and look at it from a business perspective, but I just can’t.

Like dancing, performing, acting, singing. I love it. I’ve even choreographed routines for camps, been in plays. i dance when I’m stressed and dancing and performing has not caught the attention of those around me partly because I’ve never had any formal training for it to be good enough for people to notice but I also keep it under wraps cause I really don’t want to ene up hating it.

Its just. I still can’t absorb the fact that you guys want to take things I love and turn it into something so dirty as ‘business’.

”You’re weird” ”That’s not what we want to do” ”We just want you to reap the money that you deserve” ”it’s only natural” ”People need money to survive” I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW..but to me, these are precious things, things I turn to  when I am depressed, sad, angry, etc. Where I see no way out, THEY lead me out, from suicidal thoughts. You can’t just sell these. they’re a part of me, it’ll be like selling parts of me. (ew, i ain’t no organ seller OK. jokeee! Lame)

I’m not the only one who thinks like this surely?? I feel like I’m going crazy, hating the things I used to love, its driving me to unending emo-ness. Surely there must be other people out there who are struggling not to grow up; because it requires us to sell ourselves, sell our innocence, our passions, our loves, our simplistic way of thinking. I want to keep thinking I can just do these things without people butting in and wanting to make it into some sort of money cow out of it.

For people who ARE currently doing stuff they love, without having to think of it as selling yourself, tell me: How do you do it? I believe where there is a will, there is a way. Maybe its just in how to think correctly?

Up till here for today! x

I’m taking Audit & Assurance and Financial Management this sitting for ACCA. It shall be over in 36 and 37 days respectively.😓😐😉