The Who and What

This blog is the playground of 21-year old Liz, where her thoughts and musing come alive.

It contains genuine (and sometimes rather graphic) opinions and musings that are in no way meant to offend anyone. :)

And no, she doesn't really give a rat's ass if you dislike or frown upon anything you read here.

You can offer feedback / hurl criticisms / have a random conversation with her at elizalee100[at]
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Friday, February 28, 2014

Phat Culture

I don't like to write about things like work and other serious stuff in my blog. :)
Most of the time, I find myself sticking to writing about mushy things ... random things that I don't talk about much in real life.

But today, I'd like to blog about something very close to my heart :) and something I try very hard not to talk about too much in real life, for various personal reasons.

Lately, I guess I've been thinking about Phat Culture a lot.
How it has grown.
How it has impacted me as a person.
How it has changed May and I. (for the better? ... or worse?)

I can't help it, but a part of me feels that my life has become entwined with what started off as a small risk and part-time hobby... All the small sacrifices that I (and May) have made over the past year, all the obstacles we've had to go through, and how we evolved along with the biz. We've never been that fashion-conscious prior to this ... but now, my daily reads are NyMag and Fashionising ... waa-aaay different from what I used to read.

So at some point or other, the big question the comes:
Are all these (supposedly) small changes worth it?

I no longer spend so much time writing random stories, nor do I blog much anymore.
I no longer read as much as I used to ... so many books I collected from quaint lil' bookstores are sitting on my shelf, collecting dust.
Whatever happened to my random weekend trips? And photography?

I did not have faith that May and I would be able to make it through unscathed and unaffected ... =( when there is money involved, a lot of things are put at risk - especially ego, pride and friendship.
I was afraid that the same way our friendship blossomed through Phat Culture ... it would be the same way it'd fall. We are so different ... how could two people as different as she and I actually have an ongoing healthy partnership? o_O

... then I remind myself, gently, that all these things do not matter when you both love the same thing. :) That hard work always pays off. Failure only happens when you begin to doubt yourself ... and when you start losing faith.

If there is one good thing that I've learned from Phat Culture - it'll have to be humility. Pride always comes before a fall ... and we've had to learn it the hard way.
In whatever that you pursue ... it's always important to keep a humble heart :) and never forget your roots - who you really are.

The purpose of this post?
... To remind myself to never give up.

There will be really shitty times ... times that makes you feel worthless, drained out and you'll feel like it isn't worth the pain, time and effort.
But if you really believe in it ... and if you really work for it, it will be worth it.

We'll be fine, yea? 

Thursday, February 11, 2010

There are some things

Sunday, December 13, 2009

You Make My Dreams Come True

It was that night - not too long ago, but yet feels like an entire lifetime away, that I finally truly believed that could someday find love. :)

I've always been stupidly settling for 'second best' ... what I thought could grow to become love. People whom I cared for, but didn't make my heart flutter.
I'm not talking about your usual butterflies-in-your-tummy ...
I'm speaking of the burst of hope that flutters in your tummy and makes your whole body tingle. When you know in that moment, that you're in love.

I have always been searching for it ... but in all my quests, I never found it. :( As time flew by, I began to think that maybe ... maybe it just wasn't for me. Maybe what I felt with all these guys were IT ... I just didn't see it.

... all it took was one person to make me believe that I could find love. Someday. :)

"Hey, the world is ending!", he joked. "What would be the perfect way to spend your final days?"

'Getting to know you,' I almost blurted out. Almost.
My breathe caught in my throat and I thought 'okay ... thank God I didn't say that'. I stole a glance at him and I thought 'his eyes are smiling ... I'm not swooning over them or anything, but wow. He is happy, inside out. He is beautiful, inside and out.'

In this person's eyes, soul and engaging spirit ...
I knew there and then that I was capable of love. :p Unlike what I've always thought.

It was in your dark eyes that I found my ability to laugh at every nonsensical again.

I don't want to go into details, but no, there is no happy ending here. (story of my life, har har)
I'm just very happy and I feel very blessed to have an experience as precious as this. :) I'm so glad it wasn't sexual.

I guess I wouldn't want to keep in close contact with you ... because you'll always be 'too perfect' to me. You'd be the epitome of the 'happy ending' I never had.

Still, I'm happy to have met you.

Someday I'll get over this ... it's become strangely repetitive for me, how I manage to 'jump' out of things and heal pretty fast,
but you know ... just know that once upon a time, you made my dreams come true.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

I believe that there are many defining moments in life that shake us so hard, we're involuntarily (or voluntarily?) shaped by these moments. These moments stun us into a resigned submission of Fate, or alternatively, push us to rebel, survive and strive to change.

I think that I have had many such moments in my life. I barely think about them anymore, though a conversation with May led me to think about them again.

One such moment was when I was in Form 1, during a carnival that my school held.
Let me digress a lil'. When I was 13, I had no self-confidence, and my self-esteem was bare ... I'd hardly spoken to a boy before, and though I rarely thought about it, I *knew* I was quite bad-looking. You'd think that it wouldn't matter at such a young age ... but trust me, high school was a time when if people thought you were a freak, they'd find a way to let you know it.

Okay, digression over. The school carnival. Yes.

My high school was an all-girls school (No, not many of us has had a lesbian experience) and the carnival was a fund-raiser, or so I recall ...
our school hall was transformed into a 'disco' - a fact I wasn't aware of. All my friends wanted to go in, and I really didn't want to ... partially because I was dressed in our school's baggy sports tee and horrendous blue track pants, and also 'cause the idea was very scary, foreign and nauseating for someone like me.

So we went in anyway,
and to the 13-year-old me, I felt like I was a lost wanderer in space who'd just landed on some unknown planet with freaky creatures that were swaying really close to each other. There were girls dancing on the stage, and a really popular girl from another class was dancing in between two guys from La Salle, the all-boys school that was our supposed "brother" school.

It felt really weird to see all these random boys come up to my friends and ask them to dance (though they probably don't remember this by now, haha) ... and all this, I observed from the back of the hall, as I nervously clutched my bag with wide eyes. I remember feeling very lost, and I remember thinking 'someone like me REALLY doesn't belong here' ...

Over the years, my friends grew prettier, and the number of boys that tried to court them grew (with some trying to get to know them through befriending me, wtf), I was still chubby, reserved and I could barely talk to a guy without stammering. I had the most God-awful hair ever, and I remember walking past a bunch of 'cool' girls, who laughed and sneered at me, hissing 'grow up, girl' into my ear as I walked past them. :/

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Timing, Fate and Chance

I've been thinking about timing, fate and chance a lot.

A conversation with Veen made me remember a lot of things ...
and in turn, realized how sad I've been, as much as I've been trying to deny it.

You know,
I believe that sometimes in life ... you get just one chance with a particular person. A second chance is rare, and almost never happens.

A long time ago, he and I took a late-night drive out to town together. In the car, we talked about many things.
Money ...

I asked him about his decision to work overseas ... asides from obvious monetary reasons. Why leave? Isn't he happy here?
And he looked at me and said 'I have no reasons to stay here. Nobody to stay for.', his eyes probing into mine.

I wanted to tell him to stay for me. Me.

But I couldn't ...
how could I?
Whether or not it was important to him ... I was young, I was broke, and I was unemployed. Maybe it couldn't matter less to him or the world ... but it mattered to me.

Now I've realized that maybe ... just maybe - that night was it. That night was my "chance".

Now that I'm older, more mature (... a bit), with a business and all that jazz ... I've already missed my chance. I can't turn back time. We're beyond that now.

Stupid, stupid, stupid me.

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