taxi drive from Changi Airport terminal 2

All of a sudden, I'm convinced all the HDB blocks I'm seeing are really futuristic implants, optimised for human-living at maximum efficiency of space.

ALIEN INVASION FTW

five months of daily-intense-conditioning and sporadic application of anti-frizz serum and occasional hairdrying (which is supposedly good) later:

(if I tuck behind ears) ↑

(if I don't tuck behind ears) ↑

I guess, for my hair type, this is considered good enough. *glowers*

...

Or maybe I should just go back to these days ↓

($6 haircut → low-maintenance → A+s)

SHOW ME THE WAY, OH WISE ONES. WHAT DO I DO?

X plus X

At some point in my life, I have acquired the ability to cry on cue. (Special talent, no?)

It's a kind of raw sadness, devoid of bitterness and makes me want to roll up myself like a sushi in my one-and-only comforter, and just sort of water the sunflowers on my bed sheets.

And then I'd unroll myself and realise, ohmygawd, I am a female life form. And there are such things as Emoshit Hormones that I might finally be susceptible to, after years and years of failing to grow up like a woman. Or at least, I was never aware of it.

If anything else, Zixin is not the only person who can cry on cue.

And Zixin is not the only person who's going to have long, long hair.

logic

If I can find a coat as red as this, my time in Europe is going to be absolutely weets.

I'm going to meet the perfect roommate.

I might also meet (again) that Indian dude I hung out with at the Swedish Embassy.

I would also magically learn how to cook and feed all my friends at Grashagen.

I'll start searching tomorrow.

self

Change of mind.

Today, I'm weak and bleary-eyed.

*plays Tokyo Jihen's Rakujitsu and mopes about the floor*

I'm tired and lazy, so I'll just squat around and wish for something nice to happen. For once.

I'm a dependent and weak soul sometimes.

Plus my stomach hurt like shit (thanks to Tom Yum Ban Mian).

*draws circles on the floor*

*draws triangles on the floor*

*looks lifeless in general*

self

Sometimes it gets very clear that I'm just a normal human being.

Sure, I have my bunch of idiosyncracies that my Good Old Friends love and laugh about, and I fantasise about Dramatic Shit sometimes. (e.g. discovering that my heritage is Martian or living out wayward and contrived explanations for normal everyday happenings)

But I'm really very ordinary. One who has 207 to study for. One who is not particularly brilliant nor amazingly charismatic nor have astounding hidden talents nor is breathtakingly good-looking. One who is just existing with a bunch of Others, and who, by-the-way, is also growing out her hair on a whim of changelust.

But today I'm strangely thankful and contented to be just like that, because it's just so comfortable up here.

*sips tea*

*flips textbook*

*watches a torrented movie*