I’ve decided that my tumblr will not be following me into 2013. It’s time to start a new phase in my life, and really, tumblr isn’t as enjoyable to me as it used to be. I’m not making as many gifs as I used to, and coming on here is more of a habit than anything else. I’ll still be on tumblr up until NYE, but following that I don’t think I’ll return. I’m not posting this in the hopes that people will ask me to stay, because I won’t stay, but for anyone who wants other ways to contact me (or follow me on my very boring instagram or twitter).
Thank you to all of my amazing followers who have stuck by me for the past three years. I love you all. Happy holidays, everyone.
I don’t mean to be conceited, but I love myself. By that, I mean that a long time ago I taught myself to be my own best friend, and am completely happy spending time on my own; I have no need to validate who I am by spending time with other people. This doesn’t make me a better person; in some mindsets, this probably means I’m a really depressing person, but I’d like to use this fact to dispel the horrible assumption that so many people seem to possess: just because I might like to have a boyfriend does not mean I am not happy with myself.
This assumption, I find, is often held by people who are in fact in a relationship. There are certain men and women who are overtly desperate and vocal in their attempts to get out of the singles club, but not everyone of a single status is like that. (Just like not everyone of a non-single status assumes the following.) The slight yearn for what we don’t have is universal. I might watch a movie, read a book, or even witness my friends who are couples and feel a twinge of longing that I had someone who I cared about in that way, and whom reciprocated. This does not in any way invalidate me as an individual. Just because you have a significant other does not entitle you to any sense of superiority; you do not have the authority to look down your nose at us and think us pathetic just because we might want what you are lucky to have. I don’t need a relationship to be happy with myself, I am happy with myself, just like I’m sure you relationship people are happy with yourselves; I do not believe that you having a significant other lessens that, so nor should me wanting a significant other lessen my happiness with myself.
These hypocritical double standards are ridiculous. Happiness with yourself and the ability to be alone are not remotely dependent on your relationship status.
for any of you aussies who care about masterchef, my mum is friends with the producer and we were able to go to the filming of the finale! We were also seated directly behind the judges so there might be glimpses of us on tv when it airs! Such a great experience, I’m so glad I had the opportunity to go. :)
When I was little, I used to have these recurring nightmares that my nan would pass away. Because we lived in Singapore at the time, the only thing that would go through my mind during these dreams was that I never got a chance to say goodbye, or that I couldn’t remember our last words with each other. It never occurred to me that the same thing could ever happen to Wally. He was always just this rock, something that would always be there. He always seemed so indestructible. Until now.
That feeling when you find a fabulous author, someone whose novels you really enjoy, and it’s your mission to read every single book that they’ve written. That excitement as you find one you haven’t read in a book shop, and the hours you spend shutting out your world to throw yourself into this fictitious one. And then suddenly, the slight emptiness, the twinge of sadness you feel once you’ve read them all, not knowing how long it will be until another is released. You’re left being sent back into libraries, book shops, to search for other authors, other books that maybe you’ll like just as much as the ones you’ve just read. I love, yet hate, this cycle.