dear, dear me. 

i am going to come out public as of, well, right now.
i do not know if i have an eating disorder. i genuinely don't. but if there is one thing i am actually doing about it, it is that i am trying to figure out what is going on in my head and why my thoughts pushing me towards the path of not eating simply because i can look better physically. once again, i am not emphasising the ideal that skinny is better, but i am simply putting into words what i've been considering for a while.
at times i tell myself that i have a problem, because i've been cutting back meals just because i feel that that will allow me to lose weight. and slowly it generates to just not eating, and after which i engage in certain activities that i think will help with this weight losing. i smoke more cigarettes whenever i'm hungry, or i drink a whole lot of water. i consume a lot of liquor when night falls, because i know that when i become too shitfaced to function, i'd be busy worshipping the toilet bowl, puking my system out. whenever this happens, there's this partial conviction that yes, everything's coming out of my system. so maybe that small little sandwich i had just now in weakness is coming out before it gets absorbed into my system. or maybe that dinner that grandma cooked, that was so fucking delicious but i honestly wouldn't mind not having ate that in weakness. and sometimes when i don't eat anything at all and still hurl, it makes me feel so much more better because, hey, better out than it, right? and sometimes it's easier to put my fingers down my throat because 'the alcohol is making me really uncomfortable therefore i need to get it out & since i can induce it, why not make the discomfort end earlier?'. and these collarbones, yum. i've never seen them before, and my ex-boyfriend loves it. if he loves it, i'm loving it too.
but on the other hand, i don't think i have a disorder. because recently, i've been aware that this isn't healthy, and food is good after all. i've been trying to eat, and i've been keeping the alcohol at bay. i've been drinking a lot, and i can't exactly tell if it's because i enjoy the effects of it, or that i enjoy what it makes me do (barf). i am genuinely fucking confused, because i can't tell if i am actually just sidetracking and occasionally wanting to be skinnier, or if i'm falling back into the vicious cycle of 'yes i'm fine, oh shit i'm not, oh yes i'm fine again' and whatever have you. i don't want to give excuses for my sudden desire to be smaller in frame. i feel good when people tell me to start eating more when they don't even know what i've been doing, because that just means that my plan is working. and i feel a little shitty when someone asks if i have an eating disorder because i look 'really fat & thin at times'.
i also do not know if i have a problem with my mind. clearly, everyone does, and i know a whole lot who actually does something about it. some go on prescription drugs to stabilise their emotions, some just take a lot of drugs to just sit there. i've abused prozac, which i found at home, and i know that doing that on its own is already an issue. so i stopped. i've been dependent on it for a while, and allowing every single situation to be an excuse for why i should just pop pills and go to bed. i only tell a few friends about it, and the look on their faces sometimes stings me, because all they dare to respond is, 'don't do this, you are better than this.' and i have a few that are doing the exact same thing as me, and all we can do is discuss about how we react whenever we are on the pills and that's about it. nobody dares to step up to help somebody get off this addiction.
i am honestly, just going back and forth across the line of admitting that i have an eating disorder and just being really upfront and strong and saying that no, i do not have one and that i'm just making personal choices and experimenting with my body and how it reacts to certain situations which i put it in.
but one thing i know is that nobody has the fucking right to make anyone feel as though they should be afraid to speak up about what they've been doing to themselves. i've been quiet about this eating/anti depressant issue for the longest time because i don't know if i should even talk about it. it could be a minor issue, like a tiny self-esteem problem that could be fixed with the help of myself and a few friends who make me feel like i'm worth eating. or it could be the start of a really self-destructive cycle, i don't know. but what i do know is that i did not like the place that i was in, and i decided not to lie under the covers and do nothing about it. if by blogging publicly about this is doing something about it, then i will. i will not let anyone(including myself) force me to hide away regarding this issue.
i could be having a problem, i could be not, too. but to anyone who tries to encourage me to continue this fickle behaviour, or to slam me on public internet portals for being this way, here's a big FUCK OFF for you. because your opinions don't matter for as long as they are of no good to me.

i'm running back. i'm running back to this space.


you were my first love when i was 14, untouched & unbroken. i've been touched, ripped, raped, torn, broken, shoved aside, beaten, bitten, clawed, and what have you. but you're here again, and we're no longer as good as new. 

every now & then, when i actually can be fucked to, i like to post up pictures on this really cobweb old livejournal just for my f-list to suddenly see when they're going through theirs, so that they can be like, oh, brigette's still alive. 

dear me, i miss the feeling i used to get whenever i would post on lj a year ago. all the funny things i'd think and the stupid little revelations i came up with. should i go back to livejournal?

i knew a party that i once asked him to go
said he would rather dance than turn up for a show
so i thought our little genius was no longer interested
next day he brought me out and left me completely jaded

i'd calculate our chances of taking the leap
i tried to love without falling too deep
but he was tough, he wanted all of me
inside and out, what i gave, he got for free.

was i selling myself short, was he doing the same?
we were purchases off the shelf to keep each other sane
in warmer lights, i'd get to touch his skin so pale
in exchange he'd press my heart where it laid frail.

so he was the noisy one while i was just stoic
but i wasn't about to apologise for being philophobic
as dawn dies i'm wanting to swallow his face
when night breaks, i find myself lost at his place.

i was danger but he crossed the line way too far
i gamble with a kiss just to confirm that we are
bitter thoughts and comparisons filled my head
as blood rushed south to his other brain instead/

we swam the sea, the sea of sheets
the covers on my skin as he adjusted himself in me
i made it out alive feeling sore and pleased
but there was always something that i'd grow to miss,

he said, "i'm good with minds, why not hand me yours.
don't say you're upset yet, let me tell you the cause."
we could hang from cigarette sticks till dawn
making love with our brains throughout the morn'

our tongues twisted with the help of each other
when i was scared he offered himself for cover.
he offered himself all the time.
yeah, he offered to be mine.


the funny thing is that what you're reading now is the result of some re-arrangement of stanzas. i had everything written out on paper simultaneously, line after line but at the end of it i arranged the paragraphs different and this is the end. 

i am obviously disgusted at the lack of self-respect radiating out of the previous posts of this journal. but i must say that all in my heart and head is fine now, and right now i am just enjoying every second with cookies and milk.

now that the filming of the music video is over, i have no reason to wake up at 3pm everyday anymore. it was good while it lasted, but right now the next big thing i have to spread my brigette dust all over is my upcoming major exam.

so yes, instead of counting on my livejournal all the time, whenever i am feeling emotionally vibrant, i am going to learn to handle myself, well, by myself. i won't be livejournaling here much anymore, until i feel the drive for it again.

instead of my 1001 self-righteous pseudo intellectual posts about life and love and your boyfriend's face, i am going to instead channel all that energy into recording down my daily activities on www.brigettejuliet.blogspot.com. i know, i know, most people do not spend time reading on the daily updates of mere commoners like me, but unfortunately for you, i am just very into the idea of finally recording my days down and looking back at it a week later.

i guess this is it. i'd want to come back.

here's to the leap of the heart.

can you see the love you left inside of me? i will channel it somewhere else tomorrow night.

#zef looking happier than ever to walk around in his tee.

I know how we all can get. The instance we spend day after day, blogging or fb-ing or tweeting or tumblring that we are going to feel stronger and better, we will wake up everyday knowing that we have positive emotions to seek after. Thus, the whole plan backfires.
But given a while, I know I will feel better. I can't say that I'll feel okay after all because I have never felt okay or positively assured ever since my first drastic heartbreak years ago. See, thing is, once you engage in any emotional attachment with someone and try to stray from it, bits and pieces of self defence will cling onto you. And wherever you go, these little bits either drive you to be a better lover, or simply drive you nuts. And with the least of luck and most of human behaviour, it will also drive your other half up the wall and away. Since most of us people are like that, chock full of these nasty little things, we drive one another away eventually. The solution would sound famously familiar: Try.
Until I finally find a foolproof solution, I believe I am stuck. & my personal choices may break me most of the time, but fortunately for you, it's me I'm ruining and not you.
Chain date mode: back on again.

i woke up this evening feeling better than never. evening because, well, we were only done with filming at 0800this morning and by the time i managed to get a cheap breakfast and return home, it was already 1100. the next human thing i did after walking into the house was to fall asleep until 2200.

no, you don't have to owe it to a lover for your own happiness.

Or maybe it's all eyes on him
in love with ego and intention
the eyes that are just begging me for more.
This is gone and I can see it
your head is full of words,
full of words that don't mean anything.

Tell me, how long could you hang on to a word?

I'm not the one that you want, I'll always let you down.
And I'm pretty sure that you've caught on.
And you can say that 'Oh, I'm just feeling sorry for myself'

don’t tell half-truths, because as much as they comfort you, the other half will hurt someone you wish you didn’t. i cannot stress how this actually makes sense, and how i suddenly realised it. i used to do it all the time with my parents, thinking that i'd get out of sticky situations and promises, but when someone finally did it just once to me, i felt the full impact of it. honesty is supposed to be the basis of all human relationships (like communication, effort, blah) and the moment you stretch the truth, it is just another lie.

a small lie doesn't make one a truth. some people may say to me, "too bad bri, that's life for you,", so shall i say that it's my turn to fuck your life up because, well that's life for all of us too?
nobody likes getting lied too, because that just feels that (behold, tumblr moment) we were not worth knowing the truth. but i also know how sometimes people are put in situations whereby they feel that lying is the only way out. sorry, but it's the easy way out, not the only. and when the 'too late' moments hit, people start to think if they should have done something else instead (but of course, there're also a bunch who still think that their lies were meant to save).

see, thing about me is that i don't open up like a refrigerator to every person i meet, but if i were to ever meet someone who could open me up, i cling on like wrap. i start believing in how if i were to fuck off, i would be missing out on the most perfect heartache ever. all i know is that i really really like somebody right now, but this person is not exactly the easiest person to understand. if i were dating someone young and emotional, i'd probably be worrying about how to handle his mood swings (manly, or not?) i start drawing back when i know my attempts are not productive. if i wanted to be open, i'd have posted 10 posts on how beautiful this person makes life seem, and how this person takes my breath away and how i'd love to sniff his underwear.

but no, i can't, because it feels that even though vulnerability may seem attractive and in fact honestly beautiful to a certain extent, i've never had enough courage to want to be emotionally attractive and beautiful.

i am going to close my eyes now, because i have a photoshoot for josh tomorrow and it is only 6 hours away.

someday, as useless and non-feminist as this sounds, i hope there'll be someone that actually knows that when i'm playing childish, it's actually just a small portion of the amazing girl i hope to be for him. this is humiliating, me sitting here in front of the screen stuffing spoonful after spoonful of cherry garcia into my digestive system, feeling sorry for myself. i can't even live up to how i say i don't ever feel sorry for myself because i realised this dinner, that whenever i cry and see a mirror, i cry even more.

it has got to be the sight of me crying that makes me cry even more, therefore = feeling sorry for myself. 

okay, well, feminist mode: back on again.  

i just have to do it:

chinese o level results: a2
chinese oral results: distinction


i am not from china.

i'm learning to take care of my own sorry ass, and to live through horrendous mistakes of the human heart. i used to post that accident ruled every corner of the universe except the chambers of the human heart, but i suppose i might be wrong. that's probably the only constant in the posts of this livejournal- i always find out that i am wrong. every mistake i make with every person i meet is probably a platform for getting angry, learning about the horrors of humanity and then moving on with it. with that i feel more equipped and as much as it may suck to have realised this, it's been a long time since i was as hurt as i was back then in a 1 month old puppy love affair that ended messily. this of course doesn't make sense, but this is just how it is. i've learned how to avoid staying down for a really long time, and that the day isn't going to get any better until i learn to make it so. everything in my past serves as a reminder of how badly i fucked up, and i am going to ensure no encores of it.
i may get into a lot of trouble for posting this, but i frown upon girls who are constantly parading their sorrows. take note of word 'constantly'. it is one thing to be comfortable enough to be honest with their feelings, it is another when all you do is feel sorry for yourself and do nothing about it at all, 24 hours a day. i do not know about them, but i figured i got tired of being sorry for myself, and so, i stopped.

i lost everything the moment i started to trust and believe.

if you say, i love you, then you have already fallen in love with language, which is already a form of break up and infidelity. anxiety is love's greatest killer. it makes me feel like there's a drowning man holding unto me, & i want to save him, but i know he will strangle me with his panic.

am i strangling you to death with my unhappiness? i don't even feel that i deserve the mere right to feel unhappy, as much as a mutual attraction should promise to make the other feel as happy as possible. you do not tell me, of course, that if you were interested in someone, you would make no effort to please him or her?

we cannot even work up a decent phonecall. he knows that silence will swallow us up again, whereas i keep my anger hushed because we are supposed to be trying.

tom robbins did say it-when we're incomplete, we're always searching for somebody to complete us. when, after a few years or a few months of a relationship, we find that we're still unfulfilled, we blame our partners and take up with somebody more promising. this can go on and on-series polygamy-until we admit that while a partner can add sweet dimensions to our lives, we, each of us, are responsible for our own fulfillment. nobody else can provide it for us, and to believe otherwise is to delude ourselves dangerously and to program for eventual failure every relationship we enter. maybe i might be fine after all, despite everything i've seen, heard and thought. our stubborn epiphanies are just going to fail us. i do not know about you, you, or the you that i've been in love with, but i know that if i do not let go of certain issues and truths that's been hidden, i will never be able to love anyone any better. i may not be good at it, but at least i know i'm going to work on it.

1. i went insane with my new desktop's, uh, desktop and edited every little knick knack; this is how my chrome looks like now.
2. i also downloaded a few more icons; this is how my desktop looks like now.
3. actually, i downloaded quite a lot more icons; & i'm going to download more even though i only have 5-6 items on my desktop.

& you were right:

When routine bites hard and ambitions are low
And resentment rides high but emotions won't grow
And we're changing our ways, taking different roads

Why is the bedroom so cold? Turned away on your side
Is my timing that flawed? Our respect runs so dry
Yet there's still this appeal that we've kept through our lives

Do you cry out in your sleep? All my failings exposed
There's a taste in my mouth as desperation takes hold
Is it something so good just can't function no more?


But love, love will tear us apart, again

For the past few weeks, I have been in lust with ribbons, surprise Ferragamo hairband gift, Shaun Yee, Jodi Picolout, self baked oatmeal choc-chip cookies, My Wife & Kids, my new Juicy notebook and sleeping in. Much thanks to the few people that have played a role in shaping my mood into a positive one; I am full of love for all of you. & to the one girl out there who has been channeling her energy into spreading stories about me & giving absurd reasons about why she hates me: unfortunately for you, I am not even a quarter as bothered as you are.

Ps: I just got notified that the whole of my week after this will be taken up by shooting the dance video for josh; practically all 7 days with a few 7pm-3am slots. I am absolutely not confident about handling it well because josh is heading towards a multifarious direction.

As of late, I have been attempting to be normal. I have been trying to let a man find home to my heart, finding out that he might be wanting something less & keeping my thoughts in and vulgarities out.
Normal people keep their thoughts in- they've probably learnt enough that sharing it doesn't usually get them a solution unless they got lucky. I would rather place my odds on a good game of hantam bola.
& if I do not stop swearing so much, my value in the market is going to decrease faster than you can ask, why is this girl so guai lan? It can't be helped though, the way the obscenities flow out of my lips like water- You would think that my mother tongue was hokkien. But I'm going to work on it, I try to promise.
I also do wish to be commenting on how I saw a cute little Topshop clothing article or a nice bag off the Mulbery catalogue, so I will fit in like my peers and be normal.
HA, who am I kidding.

People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that’s holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then they leave. And thank God for it.

Honestly, i do not really care if you dislike rich people. I do not care if you think someone does not deserve to live on this earth. I do not care if you think teenagers particularly fond of tumblr are considered hipster/indie wanabes. I do not care if you think someone who likes Juicy Couture and Chanel and Vans is considered uncool in your eyes. I do not care if you are not skinny enough. Neither do i care if you keep talking about dieting, but you eat like a cow. I do not care if your boyfriend wants to do you bad or good. I do not care if everyone to you is considered of a lower human standard. I do not care if you are into high fashion or street jazz. I do not care if you like posting images of your latest splurge. I do not care if you put in effort in forming livejournal/blogger posts that look like you spent a good 20 minutes searching the thesaurus and reading other blogs for inspiration. I do not care if reading all of this makes you peeved.

I only care if you have something good to say, do, or think.

& guess what, i got a juicy notebook today!