Souls & Purses

Just your untypical youth, in so many words. Content unrestricted.

Random random post of what i did yesterday + Eating Wax


The Hagrid of all toasts

I haven’t been doing much at all today which feels great because i was out all day yesterday. It always feels great to have a lie-in after having a sociable day out. In fact, all jobs should have an alternate day-in day-out system, it really would increase productivity methinks. Okay i’m making it sound like i ran a marathon yesterday or something haha but all i really did was go out for a late breakfast of honey toast (at a shabu shabu place oddly enough– although it wasn’t really wasn’t what i was looking for. I really could have used my calories on something a little more worthy! Ugh. They didn’t even have butter on the side, just a tiny condiment saucer of plain old honey). P.s. All the pictures in this post are snapchat quality lol which probably explains why it’s so strangely elongated?


She was trying to block out the noise of someone getting strangled to death on screen while trying to snapchat. Lol are we douches for snapchatting during a movie?Maybe yes, maybe no…maybe just a little.

Then after that we went to watch The Gallows which completely terrified me. I don’t know if i was just on shaky ground from all that horror reading i’ve been doing lately but for some reason, i found it so creepy! I love horror movies as much as the next person and i can usually disconnect after the lights have been switched on but i found myself scared of everything again, just like back when i was a kid. Creyes. I do recommend watching The Gallows though! It’s nothing more than your average C-list horror movie but personally, i really enjoyed it. The beginning was annoying because literally one third of the movie is shot from the POV of this annoying dick of a character called Ryan who turns out isn’t even the main character after all. I feel like he went too much out of his way to be the “frat boy of your worst nightmares”.

I’m trying to write this post but my little sister has just barged into my room ecstatically announcing that we’re having a sleepover party…in my room. And right now she’s just casually staring at my laptop screen while laying down under my arms with her bottle stuck in her mouth so i’m basically typing this out on a right angle since we’re literally joined at the hip right now. I can’t even type properly at the moment because elbow is suspended mid-air and there’s a possibility of me gouging her eye out with my elbow if i put it down to rest.. Ah what can i say– my little siblings are bonkers about me.

Sulking because she wants to be carried and swung around like a helicopter. Creyes. Who needs exercise when you've got kids??

Sulking because she wants to be carried and swung around like a helicopter. Creyes. Who needs exercise when you’ve got kids??

Okay it’s currently 3 hours later and my little sister actually fell asleep in my mom’s bed after i promised her that i’d come to get her after i finished my bath. I’m kind of relieved because i’m all too aware of my unstable sleeping schedule and i didn’t want her to be kept awake until 4 or 5 a.m. from me tossing and turning or from my usual late night routine since she has to wake up for school tomorrow. But i also feel kind of bad because she was so excited about “sleeping over” with me and she kept repeating “mommy said i can sleep with you for 2 weeks…or a hundred days!” over and over again. I suggested we go to the living room and watch some tv since we clearly couldn’t sleep so i wanted her to burn off some energy but i tried to sneak off to get my phone from my room and she came running after me “wait up, Shy! Wait for me!”, it was so cute and sad at the same time. I feel so bad that i’m not with them as much as they’d like for me to be but with a thirteen and seventeen year age gap between my youngest siblings and i, there’s bound to be some inconsistencies and sometimes i can’t help that i’m leaving the house as soon as they get back from school or i wake up only in time to kiss them goodbye before they go.


Speaking of wasted calories by the way, i’ve been meaning to try out the new craze with honeycomb soft serve ice cream because it’s been popping up everywhere on my instagram feed from people in Malaysia, Singapore, Korea, Jakarta and i eventually found out, Brunei! For once Brunei isn’t lagging tooooo far behind. But much to my dismay, i found it to be to completely and utterly repulsive. Even thinking about it now makes my stomach churn in distaste. Anyway i ordered the honeycomb classic off the menu which was $4 and it was… disappointing to say the least. My friend who was with me at the time told me me that someone had tried the chilled cheesecake flavour (which was my second choice but i decided to see what the fuss was about with the honey craze) and it wasn’t good. I wish i had listened to her and gone to Jollibee to get some guaranteed amazing soft serve for like, 50 cents. 



The ice cream was the furthest thing from creamy, in fact, the texture was almost foamy? Do you get what i mean? I didn’t take a good look at it (i was too busy rolling my eyes while trying to finish the whole thing because fact number 1) i hate wasting food, but i feel like had i taken the time to scrutinize it, it would have been filled with tiny holes like in foam which explains that really cheap whipped cream taste to it. But unfortunately, what really takes the cake were the honeycomb pieces in it. It literally and i swear to god, was inedible. My poor friend had to bear witness to me literally spitting out chunks of wax onto tissues the entire time. So why call it honeycomb?? Let’s just be honest and call it, beeswax ice cream because that’s exactly what it was. I would have snapchatted the wax but i was just too disgusted by everything at the time to even think of it. I swear my stomach is churning right now and i feel queasy just thinking about it.

I swear the entire time i was eating it i was reminded of these beeswax candles bcs it literally felt like i was chewing on these after sucking the honey off. I could cry

I actually didn’t have much to talk about when i started on this post but this has turned out to be pretty lengthy after all. But basically this has just been a recap of what i did yesterday. Lol. I did have a few more things to add but everything was just getting so random so i’m going to save that for a new post instead. That’s all for tonight!


Withdrawal symptoms + Books ARE drugs + “T.T.R.”? + Joe Hill is a mastermind

It’s been two days and i have yet to settle on a book to properly read, which for me is saying a lot about my current state of mind. Me, someone who considers reading two books in one go an act of infidelity, who feels uncomfortable at even picking up a new book while unfinished with another. Trust me, it’s saying something. I usually make the transition from one book to another seamlessly, in fact, i’m rarely without a book in my life. But how can i when i don’t even know what i’m feeling right now?? In layman’s terms, it would be like having someone in a monogamous relationship for the past 20 years suddenly forget how their spouse looks like for no apparent reason and then wandering the streets and then sleeping in a different random stranger’s bed every night with their eyes open. Just tragic.

So far i’ve “read”:

  • A few pages off “Lucy Sullivan is Getting Married” by Marian Keyes
  • A few pages off “The Goldfinch” by Donna Tartt
  • A few short stories from Joe Hill’s 20th Century Ghosts including “Best New Horror: Buttonboy” and “Last Breath”
  • A few short stories from “Stories” compiled by Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio including “The Truth is a Cave in the Mountains” (Neil Gaiman), “Devil in The Staircase” (Joe Hill) and “Weights and Measures” (Jodi Picoult).
  • The first four short stories by Aimee Bender in “Willful Creatures”
  • The first page off “Lolita” by Nabokov

(And at one point, i’d also picked up “Young Bysshe” by Claire Tomalin which is a short biography on Percy Bysshe Shelley published under Pocket Penguins and i fell asleep with it by my bed but woke up feeling detached to it so i put it back on the shelf).

Personally, i’m not much of a short story person. Normally, i would feel like short stories are noncommittal. They bore me because i can never really get into it and i prefer something more promising and fulfilling in the long run (??). Usually what i do with these “short story books” is i bulldoze them all in one go, like i would with a novel. Like, i rarely pick these stories out one by one because i usually read them as a whole book and idk it just feels weird for me to pick up a book, read a few pages and then put it back. It almost feels like i’m molesting them or something equally inappropriate and disrespectful T.T WHY WHY DO I INSIST ON GIVING INANIMATE OBJECTS FEELINGS

But the past two days, my mind has just been everywhere, it’s like i’ve been feeling everything and nothing, reading everything and nothing, thinking of everything and yet deciding nothing. I’m just trying to figure out what it is that’s going through my head and at the same time, i’m trying to come to an understanding of what it is i want. It’s a lot of emotions to go through within the span of 48 hours but it is what it is. To some people, it may seem like i’m shutting down but really, my mind has just been working on overdrive.

Have you ever felt like…confident that you knew what you were doing and that you were the main deliberator of your decisions and then suddenly have someone come along and make it all seem worthless and ridiculous? Or have you ever felt like you were being strong and self-empowering and then after meeting someone, all of a sudden you’re left wondering why you even bothered? Why do you try so hard? Why do you make things so difficult for yourself? Why do you think so much? But then feeling something deep inside of you fighting for its life and trying to remind you of all the reasons of why you did what you did in the first place. Have you ever…?

Because of how unhinged i’ve been feeling as of late, i’ve been looking for books that really strike you to the core, words that make you feel something, anything, even if that thing turns out to be disturbing, horrifying and fascinatingly repulsive. And to that Joe Hill has been the answer to my prayers, even if it is only temporary reprieve in the form of a short story. I feel like i’ve raved so much about him already but my words can do his no justice! The opening short story of “20th century ghosts” is “Best new Horror” which is about an editor who specializes in horror fiction who receives a short story in the mail titled “Buttonboy: A love story” and it is the single most terrifying and disturbing thing i have read…probably ever. It’s like horror within horror. I remember reading it for the first time years back while eating dinner which was fried chicken and i was using this special chill sauce dip and i remember being so repelled by it and so disturbed that the fried chicken in my mouth started tasting weird. And every time i even so much as looked at that brand of chili sauce after that, i just had to look away in repulsion…even though it was probably my favourite chili sauce ever at the time. Point being: Joe Hill is a mastermind and b) don’t eat while watching or reading horror anything.

I’ll update this post later on with some snapchats (mine is SJZRL) of the grisliest bits that i found while reading it earlier today because my phone is charging at the moment…okay and also i don’t want to accidentally read some bits of it and not be able to sleep. I suppose the right thing to do would be to draft this post first instead of just updating it later on after already publishing it but i really, really want to get something out before i sleep tonight.

Updated (that Snapchat quality tho — click on them to enlarge):



Hope you weren’t eating anything!wpid-snapchat-8166267789664948680.jpg


*Cry cry tears more cry*wpid-snapchat-8546014476770550725.jpg

I’m so relieved and glad i finally finished this post because this is my seventh draft and i was just getting so restless trying to get something done instead of flitting from one idea to another. It’s 5 a.m. and i’m just going to watch some vlogs before hitting the sheets because i have to get up at 10 to get ready to have a late breakfast of french toast at 11! Not really sure what i’m going to do after but i’m considering sitting my bum in a cafe somewhere and forcing myself to start reading something and actually stick to it. Hopefully, i’ll have enough time and enough of my wits gathered by the time i have to leave the house to be able to pick the right book to shake me out of this reverie. Please please please, literary deities in book heaven, aid me in my quest for the right one!

I feel like i need to pick a neutral book to sort of ward off the bad vibes and balance out this “reader’s block” before i get started on the new ones i got from K.K. I just wouldn’t be doing any of them justice in my current frenzy! :'(

That’s all for tonight!


Bloated asf + Time travelling through sleep + Books are my drugs

It’s 3 a.m. and i just got back from D’s place. I feel so sleepy and nauseated and kind of weak at the same time which means i should probably hit the sheets asap but the need to write something, anything, is definitely much greater. But i expect the way i’m feeling has something to do with the really big dinner i had earlier today! I feel so, so bloated T.T My immediate instinct is to make a huge mug of steaming green tea but i just don’t think i can stuff myself with anything else or for the next ten hours at least!

The week has flown by extremely quickly with the days just blending into one long blur, only mildly distinguishable by the numerous naps that i fill my days with. And i know that our mini getaway across the border wasn’t a real proper vacation (at least i don’t think it is? Because we drove there? Am i making any sense–) but coming back from it felt like it was! Like i said, the whole week went by without me knowing anything cause all i did was lie down in bed and read and read. Although, technically speaking, reading is never considered as a waste of time but it did leave me a tad disoriented when D and I went grocery shopping together yesterday and he bought a recyclable bag from the counter.

“Why’d you buy one? It’s only Wednesday.”

“It’s Friday, my dear.”

“No, it can’t be! Check your phone!”

And as it turns out, it was indeed Friday. Whaat

Anyway, i really do feel quite high for some reason tonight. It’s quite confusing, really, because i obviously didn’t smoke anything untoward recently. In fact, i don’t really smoke it in general. Just not my cup of tea (leaves) hardy har har

Besides that, tonight i just felt really tired. Just super weary of everything. Tired of playing mind games, tired of pushing people away, tired of trying to prove my worth to everybody else, tired of trying to please people and at the same time, trying my best to exude confidence and well-being. Some days the world seems like such an exhausting place to be in, especially when some of the greatest people who at one point in time were the stars in your eyes, turn out to be…not so great and not so shiny up close.

I’ll probably feel better when i wake up (i’m a great advocate of a good night’s sleep, in fact, i love it so much it doesn’t even have to be at night as long as it’s lengthy and fulfilling) and maybe it’s just the rainy weather that has me feeling all creaky and anxious but it’s sufficient to say, i really don’t enjoy this feeling. It’s like there’s a migraine just waiting to happen at the back of my head, it’s the tingly feeling at the ends of my fingers and toes, a pukey feeling that’s never going to amount to anything and thus feels endless.

I was thinking of getting started on Madame Bovary tonight since i just finished a book today but i think with this state of mind i’m better off with something Joe Hill. Or perhaps, something less angry and more mind-numbingly forlorn like… *gets up and does a quick five minute sweep of my bookshelf*… like Lolita by Nabokov, although i might take a crack at “Stories” curated by Neil Gaiman and Al Sarantonnio which i never got around to giving the time of day. Books are my drugs and sometimes i wish that i had the super-ability (not unlike a Dementor’s) to suck in all the feelings embodied within all the pages so i could move on to the next one, according to whatever it is i’m feeling.

What i really should be doing, and it pains me deeply to say this, is finishing The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt but my patience for extremely long winding books has dwindled down immensely over the years and it’s been almost a month and i’m ashamed to say that i’m still stuck at page 725 out of the 962 pages.

Sigh. No, actually, what i really should be fucking doing, is taking a shower and washing my hair, except it’s already 4 a.m. which means that i’ll have to settle with washing my face and ears. I’m so so tired, you guys.


An Alternate Post + How i really felt upon reaching home

(Disclaimer: This is an alternate post to the one i published yesterday. This is how i actually felt upon setting foot at home post-getaway. But like i mentioned, i didn’t want this to be the first post i put up after such a great trip, i feel like my boyfriend deserves more credit than that after putting it all together. It wouldn’t be fair to him for me to mar the memory of our weekend together with problems at home or any negative vibes i was exuding during the aftermath.)

I didn’t bring my laptop with me after all! I just got back from my four day trip on the road (about 16 hours in total in the car) with my boyfriend and i am freaking exhausted. I’m not even sure why i’m so burnt out but i literally got home, said a brief hi to my family, took a quick shower, unpacked my backpack and am currently already in bed.

My dad just got back from his own one week retreat from some hike in Lawas or something. I’m so glad that he’s back safe and sound but i really can’t bring myself to listen to yet another long, long, loooonng one-sided conversation where he ego trips continuously til kingdom come. Like, just listening to snippets of it while i went to the kitchen and to the bathroom made me walk a little bit faster. Something along the lines of, “and then ah out of the 500 hikers there, i was top fifty! *unsubtly puffs chest out and waits for some kind of applause that my mom showers upon him*. She hangs on to every word like it’s her job (and maybe it is). But I couldn’t be bothered. I mean, i suppose i should be a dutiful daughter and give him the time of day but it’s not like he’s ever properly listened to any of my stories or taken an interest in what i say anyway. Plus to put it bluntly, i’d rather gnaw off my ring finger and replace it with a cocktail sausage than put myself through another session of that.

And hello, i did greet him when i got back? I said hi and i asked how his trip went but he was too busy talking over me to hear so i left them to it and went to my room to unwind. When going out to make my green tea i heard yet another excerpt about how he had confronted one of the other hikers who had left my dad’s bag somewhere and how he was so convinced that it was a ploy to “slow him down”, implying but not so much as verbally saying that he was one of the fastest hikers and everyone else was envious of him. In fact, it was my mum who said as much after that, no doubt to my father’s smug satisfaction.

I’d heard enough to make me want to puke all the way across the border and out of this country. And this is why i’m so bloody bitter all the time. I was brought up in a household where it’s all about the world coming to get you, always the victim when you don’t get what you want and always the “champion” whom everyone is jealous of and talking about when you do. It’s sickening and i think my 17 year old brother (let’s just call him “H’ from here on) is finally getting the gist of it. Personally, at the “ripe old age” of 22, i’ve had to go through a lot of things to gradually grasp that it’s not always about “the others”; victory doesn’t have to be about someone else’s downfall, your failure doesn’t always have to be a consequence of someone stepping on your shoulders on the way up.

I remember a few years back when i was still an “overly-eager to please” attention striving teenager and telling my mom about an incident where i had told on someone resulting in me getting a place instead of that person and at the back of my head, just… waiting for my mother to tell me that it was wrong, that it wasn’t fair and that it was mean and that there was more to winning than getting ahead of people and stepping on all their heads, but she didn’t. Instead, she quietly radiated approval while going about her business like her daughter hadn’t just revealed that she had willingly backstabbed a friend to get what she wanted. And that was the moment i realized that i had to be my own person who had to develop my own mentality and figure out myself what was right or wrong about the world instead of relying on my parents to guide me to the right path. Because in all honesty, that would probably never happen. They were just too laden down with their own past, their own thoughts and mind frames and their own fucked up upbringings to even think of breaking the cycle.

It’s currently 4pm the next day: I eventually started feeling bad about cooping myself in my room under the guise that i was “soo tired” and making sure that i was seen sighing from exhaustion and busy with unpacking with a super weary look on my face. But apparently, i hadn’t done enough of a good job of it or my acting skills have gone to bust because my mom confronted me a few minutes ago, with her back to me (but of course, always busy doing something else, forsaking any chances of eye contact with her offspring). “Why aren’t you talking to your father?”

I obviously recoiled with indignant defiance, “whaaaat? I did!”

“No, you just went up to your room, no hugs no kisses didn’t even ask him how his hike was etc.”

Yeah because i’m not an ass kisser? Plus no one asked me how my trip went? And also because i knew if i did, i’d never hear the end of it and i’d probably still be standing in front of his laptop having to nod with adoring eyes at every picture on the damned slideshow this very second? Yeah, i did *busies myself with a very reflective look into the fridge*”

“Even your brother is the same. Got back from his work at midnight and didn’t even bother to say anything.”

“Well, you can’t put the blame entirely on us, can you?”

Now i’m pretty sure my brother said something to him as well, just like i did. I don’t think any of us would actually just walk past him after a week of not meeting and completely ignore him. H and I started talking a few days ago when i was on the way to K.K. so we’re okay but on further thought, i suppose the both of us (separately, not conspiratorially or anything) have yet to get over this fact. You don’t just get over something like that with a blink of an eye. It takes some recovery and time and space apart– certainly not just a week or so, unfortunately for our dear father who didn’t quite think it through before he pitted these two siblings against each other, spinning things waaay out of proportion.

But to be quite frank with you, i am beyond tired of playing the angsty teen card. I am about 5 or 6 years past the age requirements and i never imagined that i would still be so disgruntled at my parents at this age.

Sigh. There’s just so many things running through my head right now. So many dilemmas, so many decisions, i’m just at the stage where i’m trying my best to shape my life the way i want and need it to be. A lot of pruning a lot of shedding a lot of deliberating on what needs to stay and what needs to go or to be worked on.

Going to get ready to leave the house for the day and meet some friends and maybe see D if i have time after <3 That’s all for now! xx





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