The one.

The other day I was arguing with a friend about the topic of finding ‘the one’.

She was worrying that she will be pick one guy as ‘the one’,  then later on found out that guy is not ‘the one’.  The conversation went sour; you can expect two girls fighting over this kind of stuff.

The thing is, I don’t believe ‘the one’ exists at all. I mean, how can you know he/she is ‘the one’? I guess we are raised with fairytales kind of love story. Don’t get me wrong, they do exist but not most of the time. I don’t believe there is a perfect guy/gal right out there just for you.

What I think is that, we should find someone who you will be growing up with. Be a better person for your partner. That is how it goes.

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Home.

I felt my ego was bruised when my dad commented that my essay sucked.  I admit, it really sucked when I read it one last time for grammar checking. Full of errors.

Still, I am upset for not being good enough. I tried to avoid skyping with my parents as much as possible because I lied about my Taiwan trip that I am going with a friend but the truth is I am going alone. I feel incapable too. Because i have nothing good to tell my dad that it makes me feel bad and less worthy of a person when I talk to him. I feel that am just not good enough.

And I am an emotional mess. I don’t feel Hong Kong is my “home” anymore. I don’t feel my “family” as “home”. I feel lost. I just want to get away. I don’t feel belonged to something or someone. I longed for a “home”. The song “Home” by Gabrielle Aplin once sang “they said home is where your heart is…”.

Maybe my heart don’t belong here anymore.

Being honest can be mean. Even sometimes to yourself. It is something should be done. This is the right thing to do. Living in the illusion is not something forever. The illusion can be empty and hurts even more when the truth unveils itself.

Trust your instinct and whiff.

Take a whiff. Like you mean it. I’m serious. Try to breathe in the air of your surrounding, like a new born baby took his/her first breathe after stayed in mommy’s belly for ten months.

How was it? What did you just smell? Is it the stringent sweaty gym-like and mildew stench that almost unbearable from the crampy computer lab? Or maybe you’re reading this while you’re on your toilet seat, so I assumed you’re whiffing product of the fermentation by happy bacteria from your colon (I assumed Xd). Perhaps its the noticeable alluring cologne of a cute guy who just pass by your table.

Or it could be the aroma from the pizza you just ordered, knowing that it’s about to be served.

It might be the smell from your fresh laundry, clean but felt like overwhelmed and tainted by some pixie sticks. It can be the stale coffee smell left from the cup you left in the sink but forgotten to wash like FOREVER. Perhaps, it’s the scent of body wash that your partner smells like and you absolutely loved it dearly.

Or the scent of the rain when it touches the earth, moist while slightly pine/woodsy but wonderful refreshing feeling that reminds you that you’re indeed alive. .

I recalled when I was little, I did laundry with my mother. I have three guys in my family so sorting clothes out is kinda a problem because they all looked the same, even my mother can’t differentiate them. So, I took a whiff at those garments which I can’t tell who’s is who’s, then sort them according to the smells. Yes. I can tell who’s clothes they are with my nose. So I’m kinda a hound here. -_-

But isn’t that wonderful? I mean, we are blessed with the ability to smell, while just a whiff it can bring you to many memories, good and bad ones, like magic. (The truth is, your brain amygdala, hippocampus blablabla they are the one working on the  magic).

Again, my point is science has pointed out that our inherent ability to smell could help us to sniff out the perfect partner (click here for the article). Someone even figured out something called pheromone party for singles other than Tinder.

So maybe you should close your eyes and your heart. Let your nose and instinct guide you instead. *I said ‘maybe’. No guarantee.

love, mingzz x

Irrationality.

That feeling. That irrational feelings that you had, sometimes. Where did they come from? I have done (many) things that based on my impulse, desire, or just by intuition. I find my irrationality dominates my life.

Sometimes it felt like a huge hand extending its arm pushing me down with palm on my forehead while I tried to fight against the force that is pushing me down.

I don’t understand. But if they are irrational themselves, should I unfold them? Should they be interpreted? What if there is no rationale, or reasoning behindIMG_20141117_224643
those irrationality? Can I embrace and accept them as part of me and live with it for the rest of my life? What if I ignore them? Or maybe they don’t need explanations?

I don’t know. For now, I don’t have the answer. I guess I will just hold on tight for now.

How You Fall Out Of Love With The Idea Of Someone

How You Fall Out Of Love With The Idea Of Someone

this just hits right home

Thought Catalog

There are two ways things turn out:

  1. You lose a thing, you replace it with something else, it’s better than what you lost, you’re happy.
  2. You lose a thing, it doesn’t disappear when it’s replaced, not having it becomes as much of a presence as having it was.

You’re told the things you can’t forget about are meant to be in your mind – the simple aftermath of having loved somebody so deeply: you hold onto a someone and someday that was supposed to be yours.

We are told to believe that not being able to let go of the things we lose does nothing but prove how much we loved them in the first place, and I don’t think this is true.

Living with a ghost, crafting an idea that you need to hold on to – to fill a space or insecurity with – is using the idea of someone to fix something about yourself.

We love…

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