some sunset.

I sometimes think that the magnitude of my problems is so huge, even when it subsidies it should leave a deafening silence, a wasteland of rubble, barely any survivors, you know, on par with the aftermath of any natural disaster. Because that's how bad I regard them to be.

(my mum has mastered the perfect expression of a cross between amusement and indifference ever since I had panic attacks about my weight at the age of 12 - I was a few dress sizes below a UK 0 after ice-cream for dinner, and dinner was 3 times a night then and I was convinced that I was obese based on this ill-founded belief that the circumference of my thighs shouldn't increase from the age of 8 onwards)

(now I could substitute every meal for carrot sticks and I still balloon up enough to fit into clothes on the discount rack)

(and we allllll know what's left on the discount rack)

Or even if not to that exaggerated extent, I have expectations for the world to be slightly different, not the same traffic standstill in Subang (definitely not the 'WHY ISN'T LIFE STOPPING I AM DYING HERE' sort i envision), the exact same cats planting themselves at your front gate and greeting you with the same furious glares, the same struggle to strategically plant myself in a corner of the university's lift to avoid being smothered by backpacks and armpits.

I like to think that if your problems aren't so terrible as to sway the outside world even by the tiniest bit (humour me and pretend that this makes sense because my next line will blow you away)

it shouldn't stop you from picking yourself up and moving on.

If that isn't mind-blowing I hope the unfiltered picture below is

I once said 'I don't think I'd ever fully appreciated a sunrise because sunsets are all that matter, and it's a relief that the day is about to end'

(say it in this annoying squeaky humorous tone and it isn't even dark at all)

I'm getting through this phase.

:)