What Is Love?

For years have I ever wondered to myself what love actually feels like. I’ve tried googling, reading fictional romance novels and even analyzed a whole Taylor Swift album just to get a gist of what it feels like. I finally came to a conclusion after months of researching that (theoretically) love makes you feel like a writer’s block being finally lifted, a warm blanket that envelopes you on a cold wintry night, the feeling of finding that one curly fry in a sea of straight ones…

…but I call bullshit.

As cliche as it sounds, love is a funny thing…not to mention unfathomable. It is almost damn right impossible for one to know what love is, because with all honesty, it really matters on how you perceive it to be. And no amount of articles on “love” can ever define what love actually feels like.

In fact, when I first fell in love, it wasn’t all positive emotion. In fact, I was in so much pain, I could lose my mind. Love, to me, was painful. I, for one, didn’t like that feeling of vulnerability and a sense of uncertainty of what might happen if my crush finds out that I have feelings for them. And of all the billions of people in the world, I just had to like the one person that understood me and been trough thick and thin with me, the only person that could literally break me if I got rejected– my best friend.

Lucky for me, my best friend and I shared mutual feelings for each other and soon, we began dating. Love didn’t seem like a painful thing after all. My best friend-or should I say my first “boyfriend”- never reached first base. We took it slow and innocent. Which brings me to my point, love does not have to be sexual. In movies and in novels, I feel that society is constantly trying to mold us into believing that sex=love or love=sex. Being in love doesn’t mean you have to have sex with them. But sex is something one does to show they love their other half. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not condemning sex. I’m just saying that sex is not love but rather an act to express love.

So, what is love?

Well, I have no idea. Love is a emotion that everyone experiences differently. May it be sexual desires, that feeling of adrenaline rush, or that stabbing feeling in your heart whenever you hear that name…it depends. In conclusion, love can mean so many things, and not necessarily what google tells you.


Why I’m Not “Good People”

Jenny's Library

I’m not a nice person.

I’m not a good person.

I’m not a kind person.

This isn’t to say that I don’t ever try to be any of these three things.  I do, especially the last two.

It’s more to say that, for me, surviving in this cissexist, racist, ableist, heteronormative, classist, often fucked up world of ours has involved rejecting the idea that “good” and “bad” are static states of being.  I will never be a “good person” because, to me, “good” is not something that you achieve.  It’s an ongoing process that never ends.

It is, in fact, almost impossible not to be doing bad things as well as good when you are human and therefore flawed.  Especially when you are part of a messed up system, as we all are.

This, to me, is why it’s important to call out bad behavior, or hurtful language, or even…

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Bad days

Have you ever had those days where every single thing just annoys you? No matter how big or small it is, it just annoys the crap out of you even if it did nothing wrong?

It can be something as mundane as someone having a cup of coffee, you look at them and something in you just clicks. Suddenly, every emotion of negativity just wells inside of you, as you stare furiously at him.

“Who does he think he is? Drinking that cup of coffee, acting as if he run’s the whole place.”  You would say, the anger building up within you, “Oh yes, sip it. Sip it, you take your own sweet time finishing that cup.” and the snide remarks go on and on, until you realise that he didn’t actually do anything wrong.

But your whole day was just one long, frustrating episode of ‘: oh my gosh everything is annoying me ft. you slow driver on the highway’.

Literally everything annoys you that day and you don’t know why. Maybe you woke up on the wrong side of bed, or maybe you had a bad cup of coffee, or maybe it was carried over from the night before. Anyhow, the whole day just sucks. You begin to vent your anger at everything, the sick feeling in your chest just makes you want to scream into a pillow, the annoyance suffocates you as you try to maintain the sarcasm to the minimum.

In conclusion, that day just sucks.

Sometimes, it begins when you first wake up. But mostly, it was something someone did that annoyed you so much, it ruins your day; for example, when you ask your hairdresser to cut an inch off of hair and she cuts off 3, or when you’re late for an appointment and the train just breaks down. These little things might affect you more than you imagined it to be, ruining your whole day.

So, the big question is how do you cure ‘bad day’-syndrome?

Well, to be honest, I have no idea. What I’d like to do is to listen to some music or watch some chic-flicks, just to try to forget about what ruined my day. Another way is to go for a run or something, channel my negative energy somewhere while remaining fit at the same time; its a win-win situation!

However, you can’t chuck away your feelings forever and pretend that it didn’t happen. Sometimes, it’s good to face the problem and charge straight on. Talk about it with a friend…write how you feel down….understand the problem and try to fix it, if not just accept that it has happened and move on. There isn’t a use for being upset over something that has already happen. What’s best is that you should take it as a lesson and learn from it.

For example, if you’re upset with the hairstyle the hairstylist has given you, don’t go back there anymore.

If the coffee you bought in the morning was too sweet, ask for less sugar next time.

The train broke down resulting in you being late, just accept that it’s a once in a blue moon situation and move on.

It’s unfair to others that they are getting shitted on by you when you’re the one having a bad day. Who knows? Maybe you’ve unconsciously hurt them in the process, ruining their day, it’s a never ending cycle of frustration. Unless someone breaks it and restore the peace within them.

Life’s honestly too short for bad days, so make good ones instead..huehuee..

(I mean no offense to anyone)


A few days ago, my friends and I were catching up on our individual lives. A few of my friends had started school 3 months ago and are now preparing for their upcoming national examinations, while a hand full of us are waiting for our schools to reopen.

“How I wish we had a vacation.” my friends would whine,  looking at us in jealousy.

“Are you kidding me? I can’t wait for school to start!” We would retort back. (We’ve been having too much free time on our hands.)

It’s true, you’ll never know what you had until you lose it, or in this case, when you had one.

You’ll never understand what happiness is without sadness, you’ll wouldn’t know what company feels like if you’ve never been alone before, you’ll never know what having a child would be like if you’ve never had one…

Enjoying something is great, but appreciating things is a whole new level of embracing life. For example, during winter; when the temperature drops to -10 degrees, and the howling wind feels like blades of ice on your naked skin, you feel numb in your fingers and you long so much for the warmth of the sun..

That’s when you appreciate summer time, when the air wasn’t so chilly and the days were longer.  You suddenly miss going to the beach with the smell of saltwater and sand filling the air, the sound of seagulls echoing in your ears as gentle waves crash along the shore. That feeling of nostalgia physically pains you as you think why didn’t you appreciate summer when it was here and only miss it, remorse over it when it’s over.

Human beings are funny creatures, we tend to miss things and appreciate things when they’re gone. We often forget to appreciate what we have now and take them for granted, thinking that we won’t ever lose them.

One example would be my blue ballpoint pen, I’ve never thought how much I loved it until one day, when I was searching through my pencil-case for it, it wasn’t there. I felt so depressed over a pen that it was ridiculous. I’ve never felt anything for it before, however now that it’s lost, I began to realise its value more. It’s funny and weird but it’s true.

Or a missing sock from a pair of socks. It’s just a sock, you didn’t realise it’s value until you’ve lost it. Now you have to walk around with one sock, always wondering why didn’t you appreciate it and kept an eye out for it in the first place. (shitty example but I thought it would brighten up this post, hahaha)

This not only applies to items but also to other human beings. We take them for granted, presuming that they will stay with us. But once they leave, you’ll feel terrible and live in guilt, constantly wondering what you did wrong.

The value of a thing/person is inversely proportional to whether you have it or not. It being appreciating it when you don’t have it, not appreciating it when you have it, and appreciating it even more when you lose it.

I’m not saying that I appreciate things any more than all of you do, because I’ve probably fallen into the trap of complacency many times in my life. However, I’ve learned that showing a little appreciation to things I care about or what I cared about can help me go a long way.

Just be yourself

I’m sick and tired of the phrase “just be yourself”. I think that’s just the biggest lie anyone could ever say to oneself. I mean, sure I can be myself, and sure society accepts the idea of one being one’s self. However, just like any fine script we fail to read, we often forget the terms and conditions that apply.

I don’t mean breaking the law and regulations are a form of restricting oneself to be who they are. But the little things the media and the people around us say that snuffles out the self-esteem flame. A cliché example would be the photoshopped models we see in magazines, online, on television. I remember looking at them and go “damn I wish I could be like that”, their skinny thighs, flat stomach and their luscious pink lips just makes ever fiber of my body crawl in jealousy. I began looking into the mirror and sigh every time I stare down at my not-so desirable body. To me I looked like a guava being supported by two stubby poles. I just hated the way I looked.

I would tell my friends that I felt as if I’ve grown fatter, sub-consciously squeezing my stomach and thighs as I did so. My friends would look at me and shake their heads, assuring me that if I were fat, then they were obese. But I wasn’t fishing for compliments or empty words saying that I was pretty and skinny… I genuinely believed myself to be a fat and ugly duckling.

I began to wear clothes that would conceal as much fats as possible; baggy shirts and skirts long enough to hide my ginormous thighs. Basically, I was really insecure of how I looked and would even avoid watching tv and going on the computer, so as to not look at the flawless models, which greater diminished my self-esteem.

I found it really hypocritical that there are various movements on the internet, saying how beautiful everyone is no matter what size they are. Yet, they comment on how one must have a thigh gap, skinny legs, defined cheek bones and clear skin to be the “ideal woman”.

No, that won’t do.

That was then I realised that this is stupid, me brooding about whether to compromise my happiness to something as superficial as an “ideal woman”.

Society doesn’t define who I am, rather, I define myself.

If I want that slice of cake, I’ll damn well eat that cake to reward myself for being alive for yet another day.

If I wanted to wear bright lipstick (which apparently is a “turn-off” for guys), I will wear that neon orange lipstick and they can smack my big fat lips. (Tyra Banks reference ayy)

I am doing things that make me happy and not anyone else. It may sound a little selfish, but how can I expect others to respect me if I can’t respect myself?

There’s nothing wrong to do what makes you happy, if you’re not happy and you’re what society defines you as “pretty”, the what’s the point of living really?

If being yourself doesn’t make you happy, then do something about it. I used to feel annoyed with myself really easily because I would usually do things on impulse and regret afterwards. I became unhappy and hated myself for being so impulsive and rash, then I’ve decided that I should do something about it, and I did.

I began to think before I speak, only acting after I’ve thoroughly planned out what I was about to do or say.  After awhile, I’ve found myself improving in situations that I used to struggle at. I told myself to only act if it still bothered me after 24 hours, and if it didn’t, it isn’t as significant as I thought it was 24 hours ago.

Being yourself isn’t enough in this society, even though how much they say it’s perfectly fine to speak your mind. Because the hard truth is that: society judges, and unfortunately that’s how life goes.

So do what makes you happy and just love yourself, because you are definitely worth more than what society defines you to be.

ps- i mean no offense to anyone whatsoever

Passion (/ˈpaʃ(ə)n/)

A few days ago, I went out with a couple of my friends for dinner at pizza hut, we were discussing about life and what the would like to do in the future. One of my friend said that he would like to be a teacher after graduating from university, it got us all surprised because we would never thought that he of all people would have a passion for teaching.

“My passion isn’t teaching, it’s dancing.” He scoffed. We all looked even more confused than we were just now, he dances?

“Why don’t you want to pursue a dancing career then?” My friend asked.

“Just because you’re passionate about something doesn’t mean that you have to pursue your career on it.” He said, ignoring our quizzical stares, “Think of it this way, what if you loose interest in your passion? What would you do then?”

That got me thinking, what will I do then?

If you’re passionate about something, doesn’t that mean you won’t lose interest in it? You won’t get bored of it? What is “passion”?

According to google, “passion” means a strong and barely controllable emotion, a state or outburst of strong emotion, a very strong feeling about a person or thing. That doesn’t seem like something you would easily lose interest in, does that mean what you think your passion is, isn’t your passion at all?

I love baking, be it cookies, pies, cakes…I just love it. The satisfaction of producing a sweet, delicious pastry from scratch; after hours of staying in the warm kitchen with flour all over me just makes me smile. But I don’t consider baking as my passion. Yes, I love the smell of vanilla filling my house, and the looks of my family and friends whenever I give them a successful cupcake. However, I would bake during my spare time but wouldn’t set aside time specially for baking. I consider baking as more of a hobby than a passion.

This brings me to my point on getting confused between liking something and having a passion for it. Baking is a hobby, it being something I can live without doing for weeks. I wouldn’t build a career over baking, even though it would sound fun. But I’m not passionate about it.

Whereas writing has been one of my passions since I was a young kid, I loved writing short novels, diaries, notes, anything that would allow my imagination flow freely. I wouldn’t mind staying up at 3am in the morning, writing stories on Microsoft Words even though I knew they would never be published, let alone read. But I still enjoyed doing it. I would try to squeeze in at least an hour just for writing no matter how busy or tired I am. I feel as if writing is part of who I am, take out the writer in me and I would be nothing more than just a soul-less body.

Once, I even considered doing Mass-communications as a degree in hopes of being a reporter as my job.

Then I realised that having a passion as a job may not be as exciting and fun as it all sounds. Suddenly, the thought of pursuing my passion may not exactly be the best idea; money distorts things. Will it distort my passion? Deadlines and stress doesn’t really go hand in hand. Will I begin to hate my passion if I deadlines and stress is involved?

I think one of the main differences between a passion and a hobby is how much you’re willing to face the obstacles and pursue it. For example, if I were to pursue a baking career, it would be fun at first but after awhile, I would grow tired of it and will feel as if it were a chore. No matter how much money I would’ve made, I wouldn’t be as happy as I would be writing and maybe even publishing them. Sure money may distort writing for me during stressful periods when deadlines have to be met and when my mind runs dry after awhile. But if it’s my passion and I feel strongly for it, I would be willing to do anything just to keep my motivation running and my passion flowing more than ever.

In conclusion, passion is an emotion which makes adrenaline rush through your veins, something that defines who you are, something that bugs you in the middle of night; those late night thoughts that refuses to let you sleep. Passions are not relaxing and definitely scary because of how much you seem to be obsessed over it.

But with the right amount of craziness and madness, it can be a really magical thing.