So much feels

"What if it was just a wrong time? Maybe it will work out now?"
"Well if it was the wrong time then it is the wrong person."
(from @cremies)


This just sums up how I am feeling now.

Look at this picture. 

Some people might think it's a sweet and lovely photo but I actually think that it's really sad. 

I mean the ring (moon) is so far away, it's almost impossible to put the ring on that person's finger. 

And rings symbolise promises — in this case, the promises are almost impossible to fulfill. 
(?)

Side note, I really love this video. Rihanna's expressions were so real.

Pweese I beg u

Being a vet has always been on my long list of possible job options. But yesterday I've decided to strike it off for the plain reason that I don't think I will be able to handle animals dying and their families wailing away everyday. 

I brought Cookie to the vet yesterday because she was having a really high fever (40.9°C, highest temp for a dog is 39.5°) and she had been vomiting for the whole of the previous night. While waiting for Cookie's turn, a couple came out of the operating theatre crying really badly, mourning over the death of their dog. Any animal-lover would know how I was feeling then. 

Cookie got admitted for the night. My sister got a call from the vet this morning saying that Cookie has liver failure. 

I hope Cookie can be treated. For now we can only hope.

---------------

On a separate note, I saw this post on facebook this morning and I was completely disgusted. 

Please SAY NO TO COSMETICS/BRANDS THAT TEST ON ANIMALS. And just when you thought they only test on rabbits and mice, no, they test on dogs and cats too.

These are two videos where you can see the actual laboratories and what happens to the animals in there: http://www.peta.org/tv/videos/animal-experimentation/968985922001.aspx and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2RgQpcHzLwI&feature=player_embedded. 

Honestly speaking, I didn't watch the videos because I didn't dare to.

Did you know,

• More than 100 million animals are poisoned, burned, crippled, and abused in other ways in U.S. labs each year.
• No experiment is illegal, no matter how cruel, irrelevant to human health, redundant, or painful.
• Ninety five percent of animals used for experiments are excluded from the only federal law offering any sort of protection.
• Even when valid alternatives to animals are available, the law doesn't require that they be used.
• Ninety two percent of experimental drugs that are safe and effective in animals fail in human clinical trials because they don't work or are dangerous.

Here are the companies you CAN buy from: http://www.mediapeta.com/peta/PDF/companiesdonttest.pdf

These are the companies you SHOULD BOYCOTT: http://www.mediapeta.com/peta/PDF/companiesdotest.pdf

                       

PWEESE HEWP MIE N MIE FWENS

PWEESE 

Good day, goodbye!

Would your 8-year-old self be proud of you right now?

This is such a confronting and thought-provoking question.
Don't forget the nights that it all felt right. Are you not the same as you used to be?
2am deep question of the night haha.

Faster than the wind.

I set all my regrets on fire cause I know I'll never take the time to unpack my missteps and call all of our friends. I got the hint.

But that's okay, I like being sad.

This has got to be my favourite entry on Thought Catalog.

I like being sad. I like feeling utterly alone or helpless or dark or all three at once. I like lying in bed and crying or just laying in bed, staring at my ceiling, brooding over the train wreck my life seems to be. I like feeling sorry for myself. I like being miserable and touchy and quiet. I relish in the question, “Are you okay?” I get off on looking ominous and answering with a quiet, “Yeah……(read, prolonged silence) I’m fine I guess.”

I don’t feel sad because I’m depressed. I don’t feel depressed because I’m crazy. I like being sad because sad inspires me. I like being sad because sad gives me courage to say things. Sad gives me an excuse — more than anger or euphoria or mundaneness — to speak my mind. Sad sometimes even gives me a free pass for the things that escape my lips when I receive said courage.

I like being sad because it gives me time — time to reflect, be quiet, be still, and just think. Sad allows me to center myself. It allows me to regroup, reorganize, and throw things together in ways that I never would have thought of had I been happy. Happiness is distracting, complicated, and subjective. Sad is simple, clean, and focused.

I know no one else likes it when I’m sad. The responses range from empathetic sorrow to annoyance to eventual rage from those closest to me over the frustrating assortment of emotions I always display.

“But you said [insert something I said while happy here].”

“Well I’ve changed my mind because now I’m sad and unless you can get me either super drunk or super laid in the next thirty seconds, it’s not happening.”

Cue stage one of quiet resentments radiating from those around me.

Even when sad pushes people away, even when sad isolates me, even when sad makes me lose things or places or people, I still like being sad.

I like being sad because I feel closest to myself when I am sad. Because, let’s be honest, who sits down — while happy — to write poetry or think about the course their life might be headed on or do anything productive. No. When you are young and happy you are burning daylight. You are dancing and laughing and loving and…well, not being sad. But being young and sad brings with it a veil of maturity. Staying in, staying sober, and staying alone has their perks in the form of productivity and sometimes even some online shopping (unless you are staying in and not staying sober but that’s an entirely different sad that I like).

Writing this just made me sad. But that’s okay.

I like being sad.

(from Thought Catalog: http://thoughtcatalog.com/2013/i-like-being-sad/)

here dis iz a random donut 4 u

haz a naise dae

Only a visitor, not permanent.

I have never been good with goodbyes.

Which is why I always try to keep a healthy distance between me and the people I make friends with. It's not that I block myself from making friends or anything. It's just that I constantly remind myself that I can survive just fine without anyone, friends are just a bonus. I don't need no one. Because I hate it when people leave, because I can't handle change, because I can't handle the transition from being attached to detached. Or maybe it's just because I really don't need anyone.

Do you know that feeling when you see someone you used to be so close to with a new group of friends? The feeling of replacement, unwantedness? It's not like we quarreled or anything. It's just that as time goes by, relationships fade. We all have our separate lives and I guess we just don't need each other anymore. That's the worst in my opinion, the fact that everything stopped so gradually and subtly. No more common memories will be made anymore and you didn't even know. You didn't even have the chance to salvage or cherish more.

We would end up staying up late at night wondering about how things could've been, wishing things turned out the way you hoped it did.

It saddens me how people can drift apart from each other so easily. It makes me wonder how they found it so easy to throw away all the memories and the happiness they shared. It's like the string that bound them together never existed. Or maybe there was never a string to begin with, which was why they were able to just walk away without looking back.

Such a pity, isn't it? But that's just life, there was nothing much I could've done anyway. I've loved and I've lost. 

To all the people that I've met in my life, especially those who were close to me, thank you for all the good memories. You have no idea how much you mean to me. 

Ending this entry with some quotes that warmed my heart.

"Someday everything will make perfect sense. So, for now, laugh at the confusion, smile through the tears and keep reminding yourself that everything happens for a good reason." 

"There are moments in our lives when we find ourselves at a crossroad, afraid, confused, without a roadmap. The choices we make in those moments can define the rest of our days. Of course when faced with the unknown, most of us prefer to turn around and go back. But once in a while, people push on to something better, something found just beyond the pain of going it alone, and just beyond the bravery and courage it takes to let someone in, or give someone a second chance, something beyond the quiet persistence of a dream. because it's only when you're tested, that you discover who you are, that you discover who you can be. The person you can be does exist, beyond the hard work, faith, belief, and beyond the heartache, and fear of what lies ahead. "

lovely

゜・。。・゜゜・。♡ 。・゜゜・。。・゜

First off, I'd like to start this post by thanking those who is watching/has watched It Takes Two religiously. Thank you for supporting!! Also, a BIG thank you to all those who liked my facebook page and followed me on twitter and instag :-) 

If you haven't, here are the links: 

http://www.twitter.com/foofangrong

http://www.twitter.com/fangtasy_

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Foo-Fang-Rong/270055959713880

http://www.instagram.com/fangkychunky

Okay back to what I wanted to blog about, some things that I love! I wanted to blog about this topic because I saw many posts on tumblr with this topic and thought that I should share my loves too. Oh and also because I haven't blogged in a long while. 

♡ Things I love ♡

Discovering good bands 

Reading a quote that I can fully relate to

When I find a song that fits my mood/situation perfectly

Real people

My soulmate

Playing the guitar
My best friends

Being completely engrossed in a good book

Pretty clothes that are surprisingly cheap

Animals

When something I want to buy comes in my favourite colours
The sense of accomplishment

Getting into my bed after a long tiring day
Shopping with no budget
Snow

Losing myself in happiness

Waking up naturally (without an alarm)

The smell of hotel lobbies

Funny people

The feeling of liberty
Traveling

Receiving gifts that were just what you wanted
When your dream comes true

Protruding collar bones and shoulder blades
Family trips

Jamming sessions

Dancing
Sleepovers
When someone turns out to be better than I expected
Winning a debate

A tree filled with blossomed flowers
Dancing around my room like a fool

British accent

Kept promises
Being recognized for something you worked hard for
Long thoughtful messages

Hand-written letters
Cute kids

Silences that are not awkward
Days when it's cooling and sunny at the same time
Nice-smelling people

Late night phone calls that require me to be whispering because I am not supposed to be on the phone

Butterflies in my chest (the good and fluttery kind)

A random text from an old friend

Bumping into people you know on the streets
Long bus/train/car rides
Wind in my hair
Flowers in my hair
Finding out that your friend believes in astrology too
Being hugged back tighter

Sharing secrets with someone you can trust
Finding something you thought you had lost

Hot cocoa

Movies that set me thinking
Well-mannered people

Fast and witty comebacks

Having friends that understand your 9gag references

When my friends and I have a common enemy (I feel doubly empowered haha)

Zac Efron, Francisco Lachowski, Zayn Malik

Tattoos

When people remember little details about you
People who reply texts fast

Daisies

GOOD FOOD!

Friends who share common interests in music/fashion sense/hobbies/beliefs

Positive people

Handmade gifts
Free concert tickets

That's all I can think of for now! What are some things that you love? 

Hehe till then lovelies, 

fang

゜・。。・゜゜・。♡ 。・゜゜・。。・゜

Twitter pains

Here are some things I cannot stand.

1. When people spam-tweet emotional tweets.

Okay I get it, poor you.. But could you just keep some stuff to yourself and not post almost EVERYTHING you're thinking/feeling? Mmm you might tell me that I can just unfollow them but they are after all my acquaintances and it isn't nice to just follow then unfollow someone, y'know? agh.

2. When people tweet tweets that are grammatically incorrect.

Yeah, we can occasionally have some slips in our language but some are too obvious to be missed right? *pet peeve*

"Was really surprise to meet you!"

"I am so feel the music."

"Is for the best. I know."

 "Intelligence level do matter"

"Its there fault!!"

"Omg your such a meanie!"

3. When people are unabashed about tweeting like they are super famous and all-that when they are not.

.................agh huge egos.

4. When all some people tweet are "follow me @zaynmalik~~~" etc.

Mm I understand that you love your idols. That's completely understandable, I have my own idols too. But the thing is that I didn't follow you to read your "follow me" tweets.. I mean you can tweet your idols, it just annoys me slightly that ALL your tweets are about asking them to follow you. Seriously? No-lifer?

5. When people follow then unfollow then follow again.

Dude just make up your mind please? Thank you.

6. Indirect tweet wars.

Oh my this is so childish. Please just text/call/talk face to face. I am pretty sure no one wants to witness your twitter mayhem.

7. When people spam-retweet quote twitters.

Calm down dearie, you can always save some for later. 

8. When smart people tweet indirectly-demoralizing tweets.

"I am going to get F9 for tomorrow's paper!"

I see, I am going to get K14 in this case -__-

"Aww man I only studied biology 5 times. I hope I'll pass!"

Mmhm here's me mugging one day before the exam yep that's cool.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am not saying you can't tweet whatever you want. I am just listing the stuff that annoy me, especially since I am almost always on twitter (even though I don't tweet a lot, I read hahaha). Basically everything is fine as long as you don't flood my timeline with useless shit. 

Nah I am not hating anyone! Because..

Okay.. I was lying... It's because Zayn Malik told me not to hate LOL

Have a great day, i still love you 

☼ 

what a pity

This is written by Jodie Foster.
 

We’ve all seen the headlines at the check-out counter. “Kristen Stewart Caught.” We’ve all thumbed the glossy pages here and there. “Kris and Rob a couple?” We all catch the snaps. “I like that dress. I hate the hair. Cute couple. Bad shoes.” There’s no guilt in acknowledging the human interest in public linens. It’s as old as the hills. Lift up beautiful young people like gods and then pull them down to earth to gaze at their seams. See, they’re just like us. But we seldom consider the childhoods we unknowingly destroy in the process.

I have been an actress since I was 3 years old, 46 years to date. I have no memories of a childhood outside the public eye. I am told people look to me as a success story. Often complete strangers approach me and ask, How have you stayed so normal, so well-adjusted, so private? I usually lie and say, “Just boring I guess.” The truth is, like some curious radioactive mutant, I have invented my own gothic survival tools. I have fashioned rules to control the glaring eyes. Maybe I’ve organized my career choices to allow myself (and the ones I truly love) maximum personal dignity. And, yes, I have neurotically adapted to the gladiator sport of celebrity culture, the cruelty of a life lived as a moving target. In my era, through discipline and force of will, you could still manage to reach for a star-powered career and have the authenticity of a private life. Sure, you’d have to lose your spontaneity in the elaborate architecture. You’d have to learn to submerge beneath the foul air and breathe through a straw. But at least you could stand up and say, I will not willfully participate in my own exploitation. Not anymore. If I were a young actor or actress starting my career today in the new era of social media and its sanctioned hunting season, would I survive? Would I drown myself in drugs, sex, and parties? Would I be lost?

I’ve said it before and I will say it again: if I were a young actor today I would quit before I started. If I had to grow up in this media culture, I don’t think I could survive it emotionally. I would only hope that someone who loved me, really loved me, would put their arm around me and lead me away to safety. Sarah Tobias would never have danced before her rapists in The Accused. Clarice would never have shared the awful screaming of the lambs to Dr. Lecter. Another actress might surely have taken my place, opened her soul to create those characters, surrendered her vulnerabilities. But would she have survived the paparazzi peering into her windows, the online harassment, the public humiliations, without overdosing in a hotel room or sticking her face with needles until she became unrecognizable even to herself?

Acting is all about communicating vulnerability, allowing the truth inside yourself to shine through regardless of whether it looks foolish or shameful. To open and give yourself completely. It is an act of freedom, love, connection. Actors long to be known in the deepest way for their subtleties of character, for their imperfections, their complexities, their instincts, their willingness to fall. The more fearless you are, the more truthful the performance. How can you do that if you know you will be personally judged, skewered, betrayed? If you’re smart, you learn to willfully disassociate, to compartmentalize. Putting your emotions into a safety box definitely comes in handy when the public throws stones. The point is to survive, intact or not, whatever the emotional cost. Actors who become celebrities are supposed to be grateful for the public interest. After all, they’re getting paid. Just to set the record straight, a salary for a given on-screen performance does not include the right to invade anyone’s privacy, to destroy someone’s sense of self.

In 2001 I spent 5 months with Kristen Stewart on the set of Panic Room mostly holed up in a space the size of a Manhattan closet. We talked and laughed for hours, sharing spontaneous mysteries and venting our boredom. I grew to love that kid. She turned 11 during our shoot and on her birthday I organized a mariachi band to serenade her at the taco bar while she blew out her candles. She begrudgingly danced around a sombrero with me but soon rushed off to a basketball game with the grip and electric departments. Her mother and I watched her jump around after the ball, hooting with every team basket. “She doesn’t want to be an actor when she grows up, does she?” I asked. Her mom sighed. “Yes … unfortunately.” We both smiled and shrugged with an ambivalence born from experience. “Can’t you talk her out of it?” I offered. “Oh, I’ve tried. She loves it. She just loves it.” More sighs. We watched her run around the court for a while, both of us silent, each thinking our own thoughts. I was pregnant at the time and found myself daydreaming of the child I might have soon. Would she be just like Kristen? All that beautiful talent and fearlessness … would she jump and dunk and make me so proud?

There’s this image I have of a perfect moment. It comes to me as a square format 8mm home movie with ’70s oversaturated reds and blues, no sound, just a scratchy loop … there’s a little white-haired girl twirling in the surf. She’s singing at the top of her lungs, jumping and spinning around in the cold water, all salty, sandy, full of joy and confidence. She’s unconscious of the camera, of course, in her own world. The camera shakes a little. Perhaps her mom’s laughing behind the lens. Could a child be more loved than in this moment? She’s perfect. She is absolutely perfect.

Cut to: Today … A beautiful young woman strides down the sidewalk alone, head down, hands drawn into fists. She’s walking fast, darting around huge men with black cameras thrusting at her mouth and chest. “Kristen, how do you feel?” “Smile Kris!” “Hey, hey, did you get her?” “I got her. I got her!” The young woman doesn’t cry. Fuck no. She doesn’t look up. She’s learned. She keeps her head down, her shades on, fists in her pockets. Don’t speak. Don’t look. Don’t cry.

My mother had a saying that she doled out after every small injustice, every heartbreak, every moment of abject suffering. “This too shall pass.” God, I hated that phrase. It always seemed so banal and out of touch, like she was telling me my pain was irrelevant. Now it just seems quaint, but oddly true… Eventually this all passes. The public horrors of today eventually blow away. And, yes, you are changed by the awful wake of reckoning they leave behind. You trust less. You calculate your steps. You survive. Hopefully in the process you don’t lose your ability to throw your arms in the air again and spin in wild abandon. That is the ultimate F.U. and—finally—the most beautiful survival tool of all. Don’t let them take that away from you.

- Jodie Foster