Sup3rnality

Love is the familiar stranger who returns to you like a long forgotten friend. A grown man taking place the image of a boy you once known, yet with the same smile you almost forgot. He is one who'll take your heart now you've grown to be the one who'll take who he's grown to be.

Love is the thing you know but never have known. It's the beat of the heart you know that's there, but never feel it til it skips and  pulls at your heartstrings.

Love is the home you return to after a weary fight. A comfort that welcomes you into its waiting arms.

Love is holding your head up high, knowing that in spite of everything, you are loved. Something not many have the luxury of having.

Love is for me, the space between his protective arms and his strong chest as he pulls me closer. Love is his gentle kiss against my brow in greeting or departing. Love is his caress of my hair, down to my cheek in quiet comfort. Love is the assurance he gives as he slips his hand between my fidgety ones. Love is the rumbling in my belly from all the butterflies he still gives me. Love is the neverending excitement of anticipation, waiting to see him again. Love is fooling and joking about like a bunch of 16-year-olds on a sugar high.

Love is a million and one things; some of which I can twine into a sentences, and some of which I can never put to words.

But importantly, my love has a name: Asdil.

Love,
Linzy

My mother used to tell me to never ever tell a person that he or she reminds you of someone. Especially if that person whom you think your friend/the person in front of you resembles is a celebrity or some other well known person.

Why? Because you never know what that person might think of the person whom you just said looks like him or her. And I totally agree with my mom.

I mean, think about it. For example, I hate Renee Zelwegger. No reason, really, but I just couldn't stand her. I avoid movies with her in it, and never did see the entertainment factor in Bridget Jone's Diary, and the fact that she was in it made me loathe the movie all the more. So if anybody were to say I remind another person of Renee, I'd go have meself a facelift.

Ok, maybe that's too far off a story. Let's take Hilary Duff. Some years back, a few people said I look like her. I don't find her unattractive or anything, but looking at her annoys me to no end. Perhaps it was because at the time, Lizzie Maguire was all the rage and Disney was squeezing every cent they can from her popularity. So I associated Miss Duff with something icky and to be avoided at all times. So imagine my disgust when several people from school told me I look like her. It was almost insulting, but I wouldn't say that to the person who commented.

Thing is, I know when people say things like that, they mean good. Well, most of the time anyway. But in general, it is supposed to be a compliment. After all, celebrities almost always look good and that being compared to them should be a good thing, right? Wrong.



So really, my advice is that shouldn't openly compare a person to somebody else's looks to be on the safe side.

Me, I've had my share. Never actually felt chuffed at any of the comments, and for the most part, I just displayed a huge amount of disbelief.

The worse would of course be Hilary Duff, whom I makes me think "tween on sugar", but the others were pretty tame enough for me to regard it with indifference.

Of course I was never met with the same indifference. It was more of adamant threat for me to comply and agree with the comment. But heck, I couldn't care enough to, well, care. 

I've been compared to an Indonesian actress once, but just once so I don't count that. And also a Bollywood actress a couple of times, but that because I was wearing something that looked like what she was wearing in a movie. The most comments I've gotten was that I look like Melissa Joan Hart, and this was the time in highschool. Supposedly it was around the eye area and face shape, but hell, I never saw any similarities. Second up is Summer Glau, this was a few years back by some friends. And when I was 12ish until I was about 14 or so, it was Christina Ricci.

But really, are your eyes really skewed?

I just like looking like myself.

I like the way I look, me being just plain and all, but I really don't mind.

 Love,
Linzy

If it was possible, I'd liketo disengage my brain and put it in a box for a while so that I don't need to think. You know, like in comics or cartoons where they will take out their dentures before going to bed? I'd like to do that, unhinge my skull, and place my brain in a box for safekeeping, until I'm ready to put it back in.

Better yet, if I could run it through a washing machine, or dust out the annoying thoughts like pebbles in a shoe.

I just need a break from thinking. My mind is overdrive and there is no solace from it. I need comfort that these coming years will be void of all this, and yet, there is no assurance for anything. It's all a wildcard.

I cannot deal right now. The voices in my head are just jarring...I want them to stop stop STOP. I'm tired, and I don't need these unnecessary worries that weigh down this already weary mind.

Please make it stop.

I need to clear my head.

Sometimes when I'm at work, and I'm a little worn out, and my mind starts to go to its own happy place, I have thoughts of you, more often that not.

These thoughts are a beautiful distraction. Sometimes alittle bit too much. Sometimes a little creepy. Especially when I get that smirk at the corner of my lips, eyes a bit far away, and my biting my lips to hold back from making involuntary sighs.

It's the words you say, little gestures, your cheeky expressions, wide smile, th ethings you do...it's everything.

I can't help it. My thoughts are filled with you. All the things I dream of doing involves you being right there with me.

Don't blame me. You made it impossible not to love you.

Love,
NeQ

I wouldn't call myself a fashionista. I love clothes, that's a definite 'yes'; and anyone who has known me long enough would notice that my supply of clothes is so that you could hardly see me wearing the same combo in a month (although I am guilty of overwearing non-iron t-shirts or blouses every now and again). But fashion savvy I am not.

I just love how clothes make me feel. I know beauty is skin-deep, but there's nothing shallow about feeling good on the outside other than just on the inside. When I feel good in both ways, I feel I can take over the world.

But a plus-size girl like me can't enjoy just anything sold in shops. Often I would need to hunt down the sizes I want, or even hunt down a shop that sells decent enough clothing in my size that doesn't look grandma.

But see, that adds to the allure. The fact that I have to work extra hard to look for something I could wear and on top of that, look for something that my salary could accommodate, adds fun to the chase of buying clothes. It makes it all the more precious. And when you've zero-ed in on that perfect outfit, you wanna hold on and never let go.

Nowadays, blogshops have been a saving grace. Clothes are now cheaper, prettier and less run-of-the-mill. Some shop is always offering something different from the rest. And you can just go ga-ga over the choices. The problem with sizes has also been minimized with so many plus-sized boutiques out there. Us gals are spoilt for choice, really.

I admit I feel out of place during times I've been into places like TopShop or Forever21 when friends wanna go there to shop. Aside from the lack of size, the prices there are especially a deterrent. If my salary could speak, it would outrightly say "Hell, no". But even if money wasn't that much of an issue, and even though their prices are not that bad, paying for just clothing at that price is like being robbed blind. Well, in my opinion anyway.

So here's me, not concerned and not up to date about the fashion world, but loves fashion nonetheless. And with my tight budget, finding affordable clothes also needs to be factored in. So I'm proud to call myself the thrifty plussize shopper; hell, I ain't afraid to say it.

Love,
Linzy

Bobbing to nobody's beat
A solitary island
Standing still
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting
For the ship to sail in
And remind it again
That these spaces between
Is for the rush
When the tide comes in.

(c) Hazlin Aminudin, 2010

Baby, come close this space between us. I miss you.
Disclaimer: Beautiful photo of a lone boat, titled "Lone shark" is by a.kay47 from Flickr.