“When I am writing, I am trying to find out who I am.”

The Daily Post

Maya Angelou by Spanglej, CC BY-SA 2.0.Maya Angelou by Spanglej, CC BY-SA 2.0.

Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with deeper meaning.

Find a beautiful piece of art. If you fall in love with Van Gogh or Matisse or John Oliver Killens, or if you fall love with the music of Coltrane, the music of Aretha Franklin, or the music of Chopin — find some beautiful art and admire it, and realize that it was created by human beings just like you, no more human, no less.

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.

The idea is to write it so that people hear it and it slides through the brain and goes straight to the heart.

When I am writing, I am trying to find out who I am, who we are, what we’re capable of, how…

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They call it Oestrogen and Progesterone

I’m going to use a very bad word throughout this post to prevent myself from typing long phrases like “extremely hormonal, agitated, moody and mean female”. So if you are 13 years old and below, I’d suggest you to not read further or just don’t tell your parents that you even came across this post.

Women, can be bitches. Actually they all are, we all are. I know this because I am one myself (female). Look, the only reason why some of us are supposedly nicer is because of the way we can control our inner bitchiness. I don’t know, this may sound harsh, if you’ve never been a bitch you’ve never been a female.

I know heaps of girls telling me before like, “Oh, I prefer being friend’s with boys.. the girls around me are so bitchy and dramatic!” That’s so common, I don’t blame you if you do. But for me, I’ve never really been friends with boys. Most of my closest friends and the people I interact with are mostly girls even though being brought up in a co-ed environment 80% of my schooling years and just 2.5 years in a girls school. You must be thinking, I’m really good with tolerating bitchy girls.

Yes I’ve had the experience. I mean living with 140 girls in the same building especially in senior high school where your-grades-mean-everything taught me a lot. I went to a girls boarding school. Shit gets crazy. I’m not talking about grabbing pillows and flinging about corridors or hair-grabbing cat fights. It’s very much the opposite, it’s when HEY-HOW-YOU-DOIN-GURLFRAN personas stay incrediby silent, especially exam time. The catfight ensues in the mind. It’s like every girl to herself. COMPETITION. BITCH ALERT ON.

no more cray days together

Your once extremely loud crazy girlfriend goes shhh.. Doesn’t talk to you.. Doesn’t stare at you (if she does her face is probably really long or flicks back after a millisecond). You start to think and doubt yourself, you think you did something wrong but you don’t know what the heck you did, you think you’re the culprit, you get really sad and you don’t dare to confront her because “you don’t want to create drama”. Then, you start to think she’s such a bitch, things like “what the hell is wrong with this girl” runs through your head, you start to display pretty much the exact same characteristics she does to you in the first place. Cycle goes round. Everyone is basically feeling the exact same thing about each other but doesn’t dare to confront each other. Quiet bitching starts to happen behind your backs, cliques happen. This girl hates this girl because she’s such a bitch and vice-versa. Basically hating each other and hating themselves.

Exam stress well-done.

Academic bitching like “she didn’t tell me about that stupid test AND SHE’S MY FRIEND”, fashion bitching “OMG whadaheck she’s wearing my dress.. SHE’S STEALING MY SHINE”, etc.. it’s actually tolerable bitching. I’ve never really been in them but I see them a lot and I just laugh about it (that’s probably my bitchself). They can be actually quite interesting..

To the girls who prefer to stick with your guy friends.. that’s when the drama starts. I believe girls bring the ultra bitch out of them when a boy comes into the circle. I mean it. It’s worse than any other form of bitchiness – boy botching.


I came to realise this when my friends and I left our girls school for uni. The big clique got split into 2 because of the distance of our universities. The bitch-fights we had in high school were far behind us, like I said, those bitching are so small and minor and seriously don’t matter. Like I’ve mentioned before, somehow I was and still am socially awkward with guys. I never really do the approaching, if I was given the choice I’d much prefer to work in an all-girl group. I find it easier to communicate and our wavelengths are pretty much similar. I continued to remain in my little girly clique from highschool, it shrunk a bit but it didn’t matter.. the drama was less too so it was awesome. We still communicated with those from our clique before, they’ve created their own new cliques in their new uni’s and environments and will tell us about the dramas that ensued in their respective cliques.

Nothing much happens in my little clique ever since we started to shrink, we realized that our gossip session mainly composed of the dramas that ensued with our other friends in their new cliques. “Why are they so happening? Why on earth do they always have bitchfights and dramas and we are so smooth sailing?”, my bestie asked one day. We stared at each other, our little shrunk clique.


Girl A gets to close with Guy A because she’s been in a girls school for too long. Flirtmeter booms up real high and breaks the scales, everyone sees it and everyone knows. Girl B is annoyed with Girl A’s flirtiness, gives her the silent treatment that was common in boarding school. Girl A is oblivious, “doesn’t know” what she did wrong and returns the silent treatment. Both girls label each other bitches. Girl C is sick of the drama as both Girl A and Girl B bitch about themselves to her. Girl C leaves the clique and says “Boys are much better! They are less dramatic!” She leaves and joins a clique of boys. Girl A and Girl B think she’s doing it out of attention-seeking purposes from the boys, Girl C becomes “the attention-seeking bitch”.


Girl A probably wasn’t flirting. The guy might’ve started it. She could’ve been just friendly. Lets just say all girls somehow interpret it that if a girl is nice with a guy she’s flirting.

Hence why I never really try to get myself close with guys. I try my best not to. If I know that there is a drama to ensue I try my best to leave it. I for starters don’t even know how to flirt. I don’t know how my friendliness will be interpreted and girls have 10000 definitions of friendly. The line between friendly and flirting is VERY THIN.

So if you want to maintain your relationship with your girlfriends.. Especially those you don’t really know well and just met. Try to keep away from including guys in your clique. It’s a different story if you’ve known each other for years as she might understand you and know your intentions, but even that sometimes I won’t guarantee..

For me, it takes a lot of strength from God to tolerate fellow bitches and keep my inner bitch calm.. I’ll admit it’s sometimes quite hard.


But girls.. sighh we are very unpredictable. God knows why.. it’s the oestrogen and progesterone but sadly we need them to produce babies. Sorry to our future children. Mother’s are the classic example of legally being a bitch to their children. If they weren’t bitchy to us we will never learn…

So bitchiness sometimes does bring a bit of good to the world.




Finding myself

I’ve just recovered from a food coma. So much food, so much glutttt…
Sunday lunches after church with the cousins in Box Hill never end well

It’s been a while since I’ve been in this space, the blogging world I mean. Uni life has been incredibly draining, it’s not even the end of the road yet. In fact it’s the time of the journey where one has to actually accelerate everything, I feel like I’m running out of petrol in this vehicle of mine. The pile of work that I need to accomplish, I don’t even know where to start. Just like what I told another fellow uni struggler yesterday, “I feel like I’m on chilled stress”. Being stressed, knowing I have to be stressed but not doing anything about it. I know it doesn’t make sense. Actually it doesn’t make sense to me either.

With all these things going on, Uni work, Sunday School and an upcoming event I have to plan… it’s been the busiest i’ve ever been since Year 11 (funnily not year 12). I love taking up activities and fill my time. I feel productive in a way.. even though I’m not sometimes (did not make sense). I remember all the sports and physical activities I used to plunge myself in back in Year 11, Badminton, Aerobics, Swimming, Dancing and obviously the fateful skiing. Everything came to a staggering halt after the stupid accident which led to a stupid injury. Boredom set in, I felt like I didn’t know who I was… Everything was gone… I couldn’t dance anymore.. Handicapped. I put on 10 kilos in the process, could even pass as Asian Fat Amy at a time.

Basically I was roaming around and drifting with my life for 2 years. I didn’t know where I was heading and my VCE results wasn’t the best and what I wanted. I had a depressing few months between the injury and surgery, which was my period of doubting God’s existence (long story here which will need a full post dedication). Next was my recuperation period, where I somehow gave my life back to him in the same time carrying the guilt for doubting him in the first place. Well the guilt didn’t help me get my life back on track. Every time I wanted to commit to something or ask for something, it’ll bring me back to the time when I doubted God and something tells me “you don’t deserve it”. Yes… it made me feel like crap for a long time.

However I got back into dancing this year. Finally after 2 years since the surgery. I started of with this “Ways to Move” Dance session, where we dance to the spirit and worshipping God through Dance. It made me feel this connection to God I’ve never felt before. Something so deep and so strong. The joy that filled me, through my body movement and spiritually, I couldn’t explain it. Lets just say I missed dancing so much. Furthermore, I was invited to this dance session by a girl I barely knew, I only met her 2 days before the session. She was from the new church I started attending and I barely knew anyone there. When she asked me if I wanted to attend, something tells me I had to, I barely jump into an unknown ship, but I did that day. Well that was the start of jumping into unknown ships and vehicles because I’ve been doing a lot of that ever since.

The dance sessions helped me a lot, for the first time in 2 years, I felt this deep connection with God again. I missed Him so much. I felt like God had just given me that gift back, it felt like.. BOOM BOOM POW. The 2 things I feel so passionate about returned to me in the same time. The world was going fine and everything is connected, it’s like all the planets just aligned.. YESS.

I enrolled myself in a 6 week ballet course with The Australian Ballet. The classes were intense as they were for non-beginners. I LOVED IT. I LOVE DANCE SO MUCH. I started setting goals to achieve my old dance body back again so I can get back into that whole routine. However just as my 6 week course ended, when everything was going so well, my knee gave way.. AGAIN. I didn’t go skiing, there were no cracks in the knees and there was no swelling. Just occasionally intense pain that came from the inside. Suddenly occasional became every time I flexed my knee straight. I did not know what was going on.

During that period of time, the sermons and the messages and basically everything I was hearing about was related to HEALING. I was getting the opposite. There were times I could feel the familiar depression that swarmed my emotions when I was in boarding school in Year 11. But each time it tried to creep in.. I tell myself that I have God with me. But then the guilt swarmed in, about the period I doubted God. Everything seemed to stop. The hectic dance life I had for the first few months had ended. To prevent myself from falling back into that depression I made myself busier… watching videos (I don’t know why), tried to put more effort in the Sunday School, go for a getaway with the church and try and make new friends, go and attend the uni ministry, go out with my friends.

I felt like if I get myself busy, I could find myself again, find this other new outlet (I don’t know what) that could probably replace that emptiness inside, distract me from depression.

I got it all wrong. The past few weeks I was chasing the wrong thing. What was actually empty again was my hunger for God. I felt like without dance I couldn’t achieve it. It made me feel empty. Even though all the things I was trying to keep myself busy with were church related things, which in the first time in my life I was actually participating in church-related stuff. It wasn’t really filling that gap.

I should be finding God. I should be chasing after God instead of myself. What was I doing. The only reason why dancing made me feel so good because of God. He gave me the strength to get back to it again. Without Him I wouldn’t be feeling that joy again. I remembered the period where I felt God’s presence the strongest, it wasn’t just the dance but everything else I did made me feel happy and just right at the same time. This stupid void should be filled with the hunger for God. I don’t know if what I just said here makes sense to you but somehow it just made sense to me.

God I know I’ve been chasing the wrong thing the past few weeks. I’m sorry. I’ve missed you Lord and I’m glad You’ve pulled me back into Your arms quicker than before and I thank you for blessing me with a good support system. I know things have been rough not just me emotionally but family, university and friends too. I know that it will align soon. I know You have a plan and I will continue trusting You. I know I shouldn’t be feeling that guilt anymore, You have told me time and time again that You love me and it has been all forgiven. I cry now not because of the guilt or the pain that I went through but the unfailing love you have displayed for me despite being such a terrible child.

Thank You for not giving up on me Lord.

The song that spoke to me during the week.
Had it on continuous replay, felt like it was God singing to me.

p/s: I was really bummed when Christina Grimmie didn’t win The Voice USA sighhhh.. Was totally Grimmified with all her performances (they were incrdible). Well I was a fan since her Youtube days. I’m just so proud of how far she’s come. Excited for her music and I know she won’t give up.

Also a regramming (not really) of lolojones which I saw just now I felt like PANG in the head and it was really speaking to me


Toodles I shall end my incredibly long post after even after a p/s



“Have you texted your mother yet?”

“Are you going to call your mother?”

“So what did you buy for your mother?”

I started Mother’s Day 2014 not with my mother, but packing up and leaving a lodge in Blairgowrie after spending the weekend trying to make new friends with people from my new church. The morning started with those questions, which didn’t come to me quite yet as I was still trying to keep awake from a late night of lack of sleep. It made me feel really guilty.

As the phone reception at the lodge was unbelieva-freaking-bly terrible, I only managed to log back into my social media sites once I got back to civilisation aka home. Selfies with mothers unprepared for selfies with their social-media driven children flooded my newfeed on Facebook, #tbt with mother’s either came really late or really early that day as they kept rolling down my Instagram, I double-tapped them all.

I didn’t do anything fancy. I didn’t have any selfies or ready-to-post #tbt photos on my phone. My mother’s day started off with a beautiful sunrise at the beach (pretty much by myself), packing up, cooking breakfast and a long drive back to civilization. My mother picked me up, I wished her the wishes that millions of children have done so earlier before me and we drove home. We fried frozen food and ate it together with the iPad, Facetiming with my aunt (a single mom) about her amazing mother’s day, which I had a feeling made my mum a tad bit jealous because my brother and I didn’t do anything. – what a start

It wasn’t a fancy day at all. No #icecreamswiththemother #familydayformothersday material. It was the exact same thing you would see us do anytime. My mother even went to do gardening even though I insisted that she shouldn’t. I sound like a terrible daughter, my brother sounds like a terrible son. My mother is probably jealous of other mothers.

But despite that jealousy, she made lunch this morning for me again, like she did for me every other day since I started school. My mother is incredibly selfless. She sacrificed a loving life with her husband in Kuala Lumpur to feed 2 ungrateful, low-scoring in grades kids. We don’t deserve it and we were repeatedly told that and still she stayed. She complained to us about the hardships she’s going through for us, being in Australia, away from her husband and her love, still she stayed. She wakes up every morning unfailingly to prepare us food, despite being told countless of times not to do it, my brother and I are being spoilt, still she does it. My mother spoils me unconditionally, for all the right reasons in the wrong way. She does it out of love but displays her anger, wishing we were doing it ourselves but still does it anyway. She worries for our well-being, like it’s her full-time job. It makes us feel guilty but loved at the same time.

I remember when I couldn’t fit-in in church (which I always do because of all that church hopping), she got herself all worried. She wanted us to grow in Christ, it was one of her greatest worries if my brother and I didn’t. We were the top list in her prayers (besides my dad). She started trying to help by getting in contact with the Pastor’s wife, who got hold of my number, obviously given out by desperate mum and started giving out to a couple of leaders I had no clue who they were. Just to try and help me make friends I started texting strangers. Just this weekend, they became my friends, sort of as we still have a lot to bond on. But my mother helped me take the first step. When I decided to serve in Sunday School which requires me at church at 8.45am (church only starts at 10am), my mother was thrilled. She willingly wanted to drive me there every Sunday morning, she even picked a friend of mine living nearby and we went to Sunday School together.

She was so willing for me to do all those weird activities in church, just for me to fit in (because I’m helpless at socialising). My mother normally says “No” to sleepovers, especially if they were people I’ve known less than a year. When I was invited by a group of girls from church for a sleepover, I was suprised my mother said “Yes”. However the circumstances were not ideal, she was leaving to Europe with my Dad, my brother will be home alone and he’s unlikely to survive it despite being 17. My mother went through all measures to make it happen, persuading my aunt and cousin to sleepover at ours while I sleepover at the girls. Trust me, it’s a big job to persuade my aunt. She gave in to lots of weird things this year just for the sake of wanting me and helping me to fit in church. Lastest one? Spending the 1st half of mothers day without me, letting me go on a chill getaway with groups of churchies. It’s crazy. These were things she would never let me do, despite turning 20 soon. I love my mother very much. I know

I don’t do fancy things many children did yesterday for their mothers, but one thing for sure I never do, Hide from my mother. She is my bestfriend. I know she is cranky-as at times but which woman isn’t? I tell her everything I do and if I didn’t, I’ll be so ridden with guilt I’ll tell her anyways.

Everyday should be Mothers Day. You should be telling her everything and taking selfies with her everyday. It shouldn’t just be on a special day and make it feel special. It should be mandatory, because she does it for use everyday anyway. Childrens Day is like a 24/7 event for her but Mothers Day just a day in 365 days, it’s just unfair and terrible.

You have done so many things I can’t just write them all here. My keyboard will wreck and my site will crash. You have been amazing despite me being terrible. You loved me through all the anger and yelling. I know sometimes you act like you don’t care but deep down you do. I’m sorry you didn’t get those fancy things many mothers received, I’m sorry you didn’t get 15 hours of fame on my social media accounts but if you would love it, I will do it for you, not on Mother’s day or your birthday. It’ll be a weekly thing for the both of us. Happy dinners and girly chats. Selfies in my phone so we could laugh at it by ourselves in the future (I know you hate the internet anyway). Thanks for everything, especially just loving me. To be half as great as you are as a mum to my children would be my dream. xx Your Daughter

To all the mothers in my family, Happy Mothers Day ❤