he who was never mine

he who was never mine
wanders lost
and then comes into my open arms
weeping with relief
lulled to sleep by my cracked bleeding lullaby

he who was never mine
hunts the doe in my forest
but only for the chase
abandoning
she that lies scarlet on the forest floor

he who was never mine
sings my praises carelessly
as if he does not see
that i know they mean nothing to him
and everything to me

he who was never mine
has boundless energy
regaling me with the stories
already etched in my soul
tales of a time gone...going...gone.
soon i will walk on

but he will follow

unable to leave
not knowing that he should stay here

in my heart

he who was never mine
would be safe with me

get your bitch on.

So it's the summer before year twelve and, naturally, I'm doing what all year twelve girls do just before the final year of school starts - freak out over ball ;).

Actually, I haven't had a lot to freak out about. Everything is set. The way I like it.

But seriously, ball is just a hormonal signal to the female brain that says GET YOUR BITCH ON.

They've gone crazy.

There's a page of facebook now dedicated entirely to posting a picture of your dress for the whole grade to see to 'prevent doubles'. I'm sorry, but isn't that kind of meant to be a surprise? The only person who knows exactly what I'm going to be wearing is belephant, and she hasn't even seen me all dressed up. It's my little secret that I've literally kept in the closet for years.

Luckily, I haven't had to bow to peer pressure and spoil the surprise because absolutely nobody will have my dress. It's that ugly. No, I had a beautiful gown custom made in Shanghai - and yes, that was back in year nine. And seeing as it is my own personal design, and I have been branded a freak of nature by just about everyone in the grade, it is pretty impossible somebody will show up looking exactly the same as me. Actually, it's probably never occurred to them that the grade skipper might actually show up looking half-decent.

At any rate, even if they did, would they look exactly the same? Would they be Asian, 5'3", 54.5kg with the exact same date, makeup, hair, shoes, etc? No. I like to think that individuality transcends apparel, but apparently nobody agrees with me on that. They're all like 'if anybody gets anything similar I'll kill you' followed half heartedly by 'rofl lol luv ya'. I mean, how do you think the boys feel? All suits look the same! It's just mean to be so self obsessed for something like this. Is it copying if you find something that looks breathtaking on you and somebody else thought it was lovely, too? So what if someone looks similar to you? As long as you yourself look good, it doesn't matter. I will look exactly the same in my ball dress even if everyone else looked the same as me.Because I'm me, and it takes more than a dress to become the kind of person I am. Individuality is not stopping people from doing what you do, but doing things nobody else would dare dream of.   

I just would have thought that friendship and keeping the peace is more important than making sure you look like the odd one out.

On a side note, there are absolutely rubbish resources for people trying to organize a ball. My friend and I had to sort through what felt like the entire world wide web to find the best deal on the limo, etc. After the ball I'll post what I did, and tips, etc.

Operation Get Fit: how the hell do you lose the last five kilos?

So I found it really easy to drop from 58kg to 55kg. It was three kilos, but I lost it in two weeks.

But now I'm stuck in a rut. I've been 55kg for what seems like ages now, and it doesn't matter what I do, it doesn't go up (good) or down (bad).  I feel good, and I look good, but...I know I can do better. I used to be 50kg. It wasn't that long ago. It was before boys and ramen screwed with my head, and stomach. It's like getting 95 in an English essay when you're pushing for 100. You get there eventually, but those last five marks are the hardest to get.

How do you lose the last five kilos? Any tips?

after a month of coldplaY and paramOre it's pUre irony that my life is now playing like a taylor swift song.

it's the week BeforE schooL starts. nOrmally, this is wheN i start panickinG and Willing tIme To go slower. but tHis year, of all years, i'M not. bring it on. bring on ball, and Exams, and graduation.

Tag: Get Your Freak On!

1. What's a nickname only family call you? 

Well, for obvious reasons, nobody in real life calls me 'Lady Renegade' or 'Lady Solitaire'. My dad and my Korean family are really the only people who say my name as it's meant to be - last name first, with the proper Korean accent - everyone else just says it in the Western way, warped in a variety of different accents. My sister, naturally, has a variety of derivative and mildly insulting nicknames for me, which I'm sure you can figure out.

2. What's a weird habit of yours?

Everything I do is weird.

3. Do you have any weird phobias?

I'm still scared of the dark...

4. What's a song that you secretly love to blast and belt out when you're alone?

Oh, loads. When I'm around people I only play alternative stuff, because that's the kind of school I go to, or the generally accepted Taylor Swift. I LOVE Horrible Histories, and as a consequence of that I know the lyrics of most of the songs, which I sing alot :). Despite my long-standing boycott of K-Pop, I do have a couple tracks on my iPod, which I play when nobody's within earshot. But my biggest music sin is Miley Cyrus. I may get lynched when I go back to school.

5. What's one of your biggest pet peeves?

I hate it when people SNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFF really loudly. I hate it when I'm not in uniform and people make me give up my seat on the train. I hate it when I wake up and my hair looks like it's been hit by a train. Stuff like that. Just so I don't sound whiney, I love it when I wake up and my hair looks super cool. I love it when I wake up and there isn't a giant zit on my nose. I love lying on grass and watching the clouds puff by. I love writing poems. Stuff like that.

6. What's one of your nervous habits?

I had a really bad stutter when I was a kid, and when I'm nervous or wound up I can actually get rendered speechless. Highly embarassing. I'm also a really bad public speaker, so I wind up laughing at my own jokes when I'm nervous.

7. What side of the bed do you sleep on?

I always sleep facing the door. I can't sleep facing the wall. I feel like Dracula's going to creep up on me and say BOO!

8. What was your first stuffed animal and its name?

I have a violet bunny rabbit in purple pyjamas called Rabby - inventive, no? Rabby has a special place in my heart - she was the only person who stayed by my side during my operation when I was five. Apparently when I came round the surgeon said 'Oh look, she's got her teddy bear with her' and I told him, grumpily, 'Can't you see it's a RABBIT???'

9. What's the drink you always order at starbucks?

I have boycotted Starbucks, for no other reason other than THEY MAKE SHIT COFFEE. I love going to Miss Maud's for lattes, though, and in the summer I love Gloria Jeans Voltage, which is just a strong shot of coffee with lots of milk, ice and sugar.

10. What's a beauty rule that you preach, but never actually practice?

I used to be a makeup addict, so I know every single beauty rule in the book. But I'm also extremely lazy, so I don't do any of them other than washing off my makeup before I go to bed - not so hard now that I hardly wear makeup. I think my biggest vice is not washing my makeup brushes enough...when they're dirty and in a hurry I just use my fingers....

11. Which way do you face in the shower?

Towards the door. I watched Psycho.

12. Do you have any weird body skills?

I don't need any. I just tell people I'm a cyborg. It's kinda true. Because I'm so medically screwed up, I can't really donate my body to science, but I could donate a lot of scrap metal...

12. What's your favourite comfort food that's 'bad' but you love to eat it anyways?

When I was younger ramen was a multi-purpose pain killer, anti-depressant and ex-boyfriend killer. Now my favourite comfort food is chendol, which is a South-East Asian dessert made of coconut milk, shaved ice, palm sugar and red beans. Soooo unhealthy....luckily, the only place in Perth that makes decent chendol is a million miles away.

13. What's a phrase or exclaimation you always say?

I used to pick up things from ex boyfriends, so when I was younger I would say 'n'duh' and stuff a lot. Now I've picked up something from Horrible Histories: saying 'serious question?' in a bad French accent whenever somebody asks me something.

14. Time to sleep. What are you actually wearing? 

Malaysian batik. It's a standard uniform for the women in my mother's family. Although, in year eight, I did cause a bit of a stir by showing up to breakfast at school camp wearing a rather hideous pumpkin-orange jersey and mickey mouse trackpants...

Promise

Do you still remember those very painful matters,
Counting the days until my love returns.
In silence I remember my pain,
For you go where I cannot follow.

Could you not return to my side?
Could you not fall in love again?
My heart cannot forget you,
Do not forget our love;
When you suffer I will be by your side to protect you.

Could we not stop here?
Could we not forget our path?
My heart cannot forget you,
Do not forget our love;
When you suffer I will be by your side to protect you.

A translation of 'Promise' by Jang Yoon Jung, from Yi San.

the cuckoo has to leave the nest someday.

I often wish I was more patriotic than I am. I wish I had that kind of desperate love for my country, the profound desire to live and die in service of my homeland. But I don't. I appreciate that Australia is a good place to live, but my connection is cool, detached, and easily breakable.

I've often attributed my cynicism to being a second-generation immigrant. As an immigrant, you see the opportunities and abundance of a new, wealthy nation. But juxtaposed with this is the problems of being born here, but not really belonging. The flaws have more significance to you, and are deeper and more troubling than they are to other people. I see a society enjoying a pleasant facade of peace and security, but ever so close to breaking point. I see little tiny cracks in the system that are hushed up, ready to become full blown faults ready to send the whole institution crumbling.

Optimistic, huh?

My mother comes from Singapore, and from her side I am descended from Cantonese peasants - people who were born as nobodies and died as nobodies. Their lives, loves, tragedies...none of it is known. My father comes from South Korea, and from that side I am descended from Korean nobility. My Korean ancestors are people who wrote history - ministers, generals, the wives and mothers of kings. It's a very strange mix.

My paternal family is very patriotic - most Koreans are. Everything is bigger, better, and Korean. The Koreans are very proud of their rich cultural heritage, their people and the challenges they have overcome - and so they should. My grandfather has spent his whole life upholding the family name and traditional Korean principles, marred somewhat by his youngest son's marriage to a Singaporean woman. My grandfather is a true pater patriae, and he gets much of his strength from that. At nearly eighty, he's hardly young, but he's full of energy as he dashes around, spending his retirement doing what he loves. I wish I had that kind of zeal. My dad is the first person from our line to leave Korea to create a life of his own.

My mother, however, comes from a family of wanderers. They left Canton for Singapore. My mother and her siblings have left Singapore for the world - America, Germany, England, Australia, Malaysia, China. Some came back, others left for good.

My mother is a wanderer. Singapore never clicked for her. It's her story, but she left and built her own life for herself. Built a career, got married, started a family. Starting from the bottom, working her way up.

I want to do that. I want to leave and start again. It has little to do with how good or bad Australia is. I am a wanderer, like my mother, like her ancestors. I want to be reborn. And maybe, I'll find a place where I can truly be a patriot.      

There are a thousand things I can never say.
A thousand things I will write,
Then burn.
A thousand things buried in my heart,
To become one with the earth.
As ashes, swept away from the hearth.

kai su, teknon.

Speak.
I hear.

When you are with her
You are an actor.
A courtier;
In a world where everything rhymes,
And water turns to wine.

But with me,
You put on your glasses,
Pull off your tie,
Crack open a beer;
Pour open your heart and then
Sleep, contented.

You throw down your armour,
I am not a prize.

When you see me
We play a game.
I believe they call it
Tit for tat.

But when I take the veil
I am
Just
An ear.

To you,
My skills as an actress are
Deliciously

irrelevant.

I've decided to embrace my inner nerd. A few days ago I went out and bought the biggest pair of tortoiseshell glasses I could find. If they're gonna treat me like a freak, then I'm going to act the freak.

This is still no excuse for not having a d-word so close to the Date.