Souls & Purses

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

“The strangers in this town, they raise you up just to cut you down”

“Oh Angela it’s a long time coming…

Oh Angela spent your whole life running away”

This is the kind of song that i’m only brave enough to listen to once. Maybe three maybe four times. But never on repeat. Songs like these are not like the others.

It reminds me of how fragile i am as a human being. It makes me aware of all the things i’m feeling underneath but refuse to acknowledge, all the things i hide away and keep myself busy from and i don’t think i like it.

It’s the kind of song which i find myself skimming over, too afraid to get attached to, too afraid to appreciate– it leaves my heart aflutter but that is all i’m willing to feel.

This is my first time listening to it and probably even the last. Songs like these welcome unwelcome sentiments.

I don’t know what it’s about other than a pregnant woman called Angela leaving her life behind. I don’t even relate to the lyrics or feel the need to find meaning in it. All i know is that it makes me emotionally regurgitate everything that i’ve kept pressed down for a long while now.

It even makes me think about my grandfather all over again.

I told myself i wouldn’t cry listening to this song, i told myself i would write down a post just to rid myself of whatever growing attachment i had to the song but it’s too fucking late. It always fucking is.


“All I Want” by Kodaline and “Angela” by The Lumineers bring so much pain and relief to me. It’s not even an “oh man, this stupid cheesy song reminds me of my stupid ex who dedicated it to me almost a decade ago, it’s so fucking lame, switch it off… but first let me sing along to it”. Or a “oh ew this mainstream song that everyone’s listening to, switch it off before i start singing along to it and everyone finds out how lame i am”.

I wish it were like that but I legitimately never ever want to hear any of these songs ever again.


Wretched + Fair-weather Friends?

So this is actually part two of my previous post because i thought it would be too lengthy if i left it as one. As i mentioned earlier, i stayed over at my boyfriend’s place for a few days in order to come to my senses and mull certain things over. I also took the time to take some steps i feel is semi-necessary for my wellbeing. And is also necessary for people to know i mean what i say and to take me seriously when i’m being sincere.

During the few days i stayed over, I only left the house to buy food and even then everything just felt like an out of body experience. It was like i could see myself vacantly driving with one hand on the steering wheel, cigarette in the other, black sunglasses hiding my puffy eyes, occasionally sniffling with sporadic hiccups on the side. I just felt dead and wretched inside and it reflected on the outside.

I could feel everyone’s eyes on me whenever i went to the store to take away food from the “nasi campur” place and honestly, i don’t blame them for sizing me up that way. I kind of looked like shit in my boyfriend’s hideous oversized shorts that went all the way down to my knees and bunched up at the waist from the elastic, no makeup with acne scars on display for all the world to see, looking all menacing with my septum piercing and nose ring (it’s all fun and games when you’re fully made up and have that glam-edgy look going on; it’s a whole different story when you look like shit, sort of like Evan Peters’ child molester mom from AHS: Coven #mihir).

Me buying food at the store

After those few days, i eventually started feeling better about seeking out advice and support from my like-minded friends who i knew would have my back. You know how songs are always talking about friends disappearing in times of need? I feel like i sort of got a glimpse into that this week. When i’m up and running, it seems like i can barely find time for myself what with all the friends i have to meet and catch up with because we always have so much to talk about. But all of a sudden, i found myself ruling out some friends because at the back of my mind it’s like “no, i can’t deal with her right now, she talks too fucking much, it’s unlikely i’m going to get a word in edgewise” or “nah, that person has the attention span of a goldfish, it’d be like confiding to a wall”. And that just made me think… why do i keep myself in their company when i can’t even rely on them to be there for me when i need them the most?

And then there are the others who are all, “Omg let’s meet up! I’ve got juice!” and then i tell them that i myself have got some bad shit going on in order to let them know in advance like “hey, i can’t be the only one to listen to your bullshit stories tonight so you’d better prepare your ears and bring your fully undivided attention” and then they reply with something like, “oh no. Poor you. Anyway, are you coming?!”. And you know they don’t give a shit about what’s going on in your life. So that’s definitely something that i’ve come to realize over the past week.

But then there were the others who sensed my urgency and came through for me on the spot and i just couldn’t feel more grateful for them. My boyfriend is amazing and everything but it’s different when you’re unloading to one of the good guys who wants to dedicate his life to supporting you yet really wants to keep in good graces with his future-in-laws aaand unloading to your friends who are technically “the family you get to choose” which right now, seems a hell lot more promising than the family i was actually born into.

The ones who really stood by me and listened, reacted appropriately and promptly and wholeheartedly supported my actions were just heaven sent and i will be eternally grateful.

Picking myself up by the chins after a hell of a week

So if you guys read my last post, you’ll know that i’ve been going through a rough patch with my family ever since i stormed out of the house early Monday morning and temporarily moved into my boyfriend’s place. It’s been difficult and for the first 48 hours i spent a lot of time crying in bed, watching a lot of feel-good movies, texting back and forth with my parents in the hopes of getting through to them and basically just sobbing at everything at the drop of a hat.

But now i’m done feeling sorry for myself. I’m finally home and while i’m not on the best of terms with my family yet, i know that there are so many other people who have my back. There’s an entire support system out there for me that reaches beyond the family gates.

Now i’m going to focus on picking myself up, beginning with my appearance because frankly speaking, i look like shit because:

1) I’ve been binge eating like mad and my turkey neck is showing because like, since i’m already down in the dumps, i might as well just start eating from it right? Jk. Since it’s a total guy pad, there wasn’t really much to cook at my boyfriend’s place so i went around scavenging and found this amazing “nasi campur” place which is basically a one-round buffet, to put it simply. You go around picking different sorts of meat based dishes (i love love loved the curry rendang, the rendang masak kicap and idk some fatty turmeric “kunyit” based stew), some side dishes like salted egg or tofu or tempe, some vegetables (i always went for terung sambal? I’m not sure if that’s what it’s called but it’s basically chillied eggplant), all placed in one container which surprisingly complemented well with one another despite all the different sauces in there. And i was always really surprised by how cheap it all was! Being the born glutton that i am, I think i always chose around 5 dishes at a time and it always came about to $2.5o. Like wtf. The highlight of my freaking mornings, i’m telling you).

2) My hair is frizzy af because when i left the house i forgot to pack my conditioner and since i didn’t really want to leave the house for anything less important than food, i literally left half a bottle of Nivea body lotion in my hair in lieu of actual conditioner for five minutes and then rinsed. The results were actually surprisingly okay, like personally, i couldn’t feel or really see the difference so that was less one thing to cry about. It’s just that i forgot to pack my straighteners so most of the time i just skulked around looking like Lily Rabe in AHS:Hotel.

Me all week

3. My makeup game has been off because i’ve been experimenting so much with different lipsticks recently and while all these outlandish colours are trendy, admittedly they’re not always very flattering, especially for day to day use. Unless you look like Miranda Kerr or something. Like if your outfit is not extra, you need to stay away from that navy green lipstick. And if you don’t have the rest of your face made up to the nines, don’t even touch that cement clay matte lippie.

4. Although on a positive note, my skin has been fairly behaving itself! But that’s mostly because with my boyfriend getting up for work at 8 am and going to sleep by 12 or 1 am, i’ve sort of attuned myself to his sleeping patterns. Which is a good thing but now that i’m home again, that’s probably shot to hell.

So yeah, starting tomorrow i’m going to pick myself up by my chins (all four of them) and force myself to start looking normal again, even if that means putting aside experimenting with makeup for a bit and going for basic corals and pinks that i know i’ll look good in. It’s all about looking and feeling good inside and outside for now.

That’s all xx

Taking a stand in what you’ll never believe in

I’m in pain. In pain by the fact that no one believes me. By the fact that there really is no justice in the world. By the fact that there are illogical people that walk this earth so far up with their head in the clouds that no amount of rationalizing or conviction can persuade them that what they believe is wrong.

I’m sat here camped out in a corner of my boyfriend’s room a day after i stormed out from my own home in a fit of anger, disbelief and more than a tinge of sadness. No amount of tissues can make up for the tears i’ve shed today and it’s definitely going to take more than cigarettes to calm down this inner turmoil. I don’t want this to mean goodbye but this seems like the final straw. I have my pride and if i can’t begin by even making a change at home, then what chance do i stand in the world?

I am done with being shot down and humored. I am done with taking this abuse and mistreatment. Just because i go down with a fight does not mean i don’t get defeated too. And i am defeated and drained with nothing left to give.

Here’s a hypothetical scenario (that did NOT happen, just to make this clear, this is merely an example to illustrate my situation better):

There’s a rapist and a victim. The rapist attempts the deed but instead comes away with his dick bitten off by the victim. They both get taken in by the police who determine that since he was castrated in the process, both of them are let off scot-free because they both got each other back. All this without taking into any account the intention of the rapist and the trauma the victim faces. 

Oh and also because the victim is a bitch and was talking back to the rapist at the beginning, she should learn how to talk in a less abrasive tone. And not to forget! The rapist was having a bad day so the victim needs to be more sympathetic because if she had a bad day, she would probably attempt to rape someone too, right? 

This, ladies and gentlemen, is how my family functions. It’s the whole “an eye for an eye” concept where it doesn’t come into play whether it’s a sly poke or a complete dislodging of an eyeball. Ignore the fact that the person who started it is lying and shows no remorse for his or her actions! Ignore that the person was attempting to do the deed because hey, it’s not like he went all the way, right? Ignore all the intentions and focus on the fact that you’re still alive. Woohoo. Because everything is fun and games until someone dies.

And i don’t want to be there to watch the end of that story.

All i want is for someone to recognize that the “rapist” has a problem and see that his intentions, no matter how unfruitful, were clear. I’ve come to accept that you’re never going to wonder if i’m okay.

People say that they see  me as a “strong” person, with the will to survive and make it out alive. But just because you think i’m strong and capable of taking matters into my own hands, it doesn’t mean that i don’t hurt too.

And i am hurt and bruised all over emotionally and maybe even a little physically. They say third time’s the charm but nothing seems very promising right now.



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