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Article 24

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I give up. I surrender. I don't want to fight anymore.

I want to return to my comfort darkness, let it consume me and dissolve me

The most difficult part is not where you fall into pieces. You know that it's just pain, it goes away. The aftermath is the truly terrifying one. You have to restart everything all over again, all that hopes all that dreams knowing one day it will end and then restart.

It is tiring, I am tired.

It doesn't matter anymore if I "can" do it or not. I did it once, I can do it again. But I don't want to anymore, I don't see the point of making a single effort anymore

Let me lay down in the darkness where I can rest

This time I'm staying

Cry

Tea Party

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First photoshoot in Hanoi since i'm back!!  it's been awhile since i do some concept shooting in studio and not just the usual outfit post too! This time it's for a supa dupa cute brand from Thailand, Lazy B Club. Hope you like it baesss xoxo









Candy printed top and skirt set from Lazy B Club
Lazy B Club instagram: http://instagram.com/lazybclub
Lazy B Club shop: https://www.etsy.com/shop/LazyBClub

MISS BEHAVE

Article 20

welcome to the doll house

backstage

199s


back alley

Carmen

Article 14

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It has been a long time since i write something up here. And I wish that it is because I am happy right now, so I am more focused in the "real" life, instead of my online life, but actually, it turned out to be the direct opposite. I am feeling worse, and worse, sinking deeper and deeper into whatever this emotion called. Apparently there is no such thing as "rock bottom", life is an endless black hole that spin you right into the middle of pure shittiness, testing your body tolerance to the pain it can takes inside out, upgrading the level everytime you feel like you finally got the hang of this.

I finally have to admit, moving out of Singapore and moving back to Ha Noi, was probably one of the worst thing I have ever done to myself. So ironic, because Ha Noi is the city I love so much and i used to despite living in Singapore, but now i wish i can choose again.

I learned another lesson, never go back to your safe place. Never ever ever turn back to where you was happy and the sun was shining and you see the lights in the people's eyes, feeling the fire in your heart. Because it is never ever ever about the place, it was all about the moment. It was a point in time when you feel happy, that's why everything around you is beautiful and you feel like you are being alive and not just breathing, and in reality, the people, the place, the thing you find "safe" might not even be as half amazing as you thought it was.

I hated my life in Singapore, I hated it bad. Everyday i wake up i feel like killing myself. Every night i went to bed, knowing tomorrow will be exactly the same, and the night got longer when i can't sleep. I day dream about my life back in Ha Noi before I was forced to moved, how in love I was with everything: dancing, photos, best friends, even food. I long for the day I can come back to the place where i was once belong.

So I worked hard. I work and work and work. I work to buy a house, I work for the moving out money, I work so I can take care of myself, have a career, to achieve things, to prove to myself that I can survive this shit. I tell myself "tough time doesn't last but a tough girl does". I count the day in the calender until I can get on a plane and never look back.

And I did it, I got out. So what?

Silly me, thinking that she is going to be so happy sitting on that plan. Silly me, thinking everything is going to change. Silly me, thinking that everything is going to be alright.

My emotions when i sit on that plane was just overwhelming, Not particularly good or bad, it was just simply confusing, overwhelming confusions.

Not long after I have achieved to where I want to achieve, have a career, have my own house, I realized yet again, this is not going to make me happy. Sleeping in a bed i picked out in a house i bought after years of hard work, with friends all around smiling and cuddling me, I still wake up every morning feeling like killing myself and go to bed everynight knowing tomorrow will be exactly the same, and the night got longer  when i can't sleep.

What went wrong?

Oh dear, the thing you wished them to be, they shall never be. I crave my safe place, I crave "that moment", but with the sun gone down and the light went out that day, they have gone away forever. Friends are not the same. City is not the same. Even the comfy bed wasn't in the right shape I wanted it to be.

Long story short, I built up a dream life thinking I can achieve it if I work hard, try my best, hold on a little longer. Long story ended, dreaming is still just dreaming. Another same old cliche story of how you stay the same but everything else changed.

I feel exactly the same living in my dreamland and living in Singapore. Sad, depressed, suicidal. Again, same old same old. But at least in Singapore, I have things to look forward to. I keep myself busy, I went out do everything that I am supposed to do , I have a life in motion I needed to catch up on. I wanted to have everything. But once I have it, I am completely lost. My whole life, I took pride in myself for always knowing exactly who I am and what I want, but now I no longer have a clue. "Peaked". I got to where I want, I got what I want, I have what I deserve. But I don't want to be here, I don't want it, I don't have it in me anymore. And I am clueless of where I want to be, what I want to have, and what do I deserve, right at this damn moment.

Oh wait, may be I do know what I deserve. Banging my head to the wall till i'm numb, till i can finally fall asleep without the need to dream of a better place

mr and mrs Boney

Fragile

28/5/2015

the unusual diary post

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Since the day I started this blog, I have made a promise to myself to never ever be a sell-out. I am horrified to a certain kind of blogger which post things like "hey check me out with this face mask and my boyfriend's family how fun!!!"(please don't be offended basics i just simply don't feel ya). I wanted to be a concept, an idea, and for this blog to be a place where i show the world my mind, my feelings, my ideas through the colour, the aesthetic. I was aspired to be like an "illusion museum", where I show the world what i want them to see, and for them to be entertained.

In the progress, I realized that despite the facts I do blog about my personal feelings at time, it is just isn't enough. When my number of followers were smaller, they were more "understanding" in a sense, it was alright, but right now people are just expecting me to be something new, something different, something fun every.single.day.

And despite the fact that i want to be just a concept, an idea; I am not, and having fun every single day is just not possible.

Therefore, I have decided to do a little blog post about how things are actually going down around here, what is up with me, and not "plaaastic", a "behind the scene" kinda peek. This post is probably gonna be drowned in my next 12930192832137 outfit posts anyway but still let's do it.

1. I am poor

I am. I really fucking am. I have no idea how people have the idea of me being rich, and every time someone ask me casually about money, i sweat. In my mind, oh the horror, i calculate fun times in work hours, and "something nice for yourself" is "loan some money from the bank to buy something that is not gonna worth it bleeding in heels 18 hours later on" being said in a nicer way.

As most of you know, I lived in Singapore since I was 15 until last year, and I support myself. I worked as a blogger, photographer, a designer, a freelance social media consultant..etc. But as most of you do not know, I still wait tables, I live in an apartment that is only enough for a bed, and I literally hustle days through days.

Be hold the biggest revelation of the year: blogging does not fucking pay. Doesn't matter how long you did it for. Doesn't matter how may followers you have. Doesn't even mater you are a perfectionist and you do not post anything with the grade bellow 9/10. If you are not a sell-out, you have a chance of 0,01% in survival in the blogging world, and halve that into 0,005% if you want to not be a sell out and still make money.

I have brands, magazines, designers email me every single day asking me for "promoting their brand". I will put this out there, first and last: I do not fucking promote. What the heck is promote I don't even fucking know. I offer advertisements for brands, but only for brands I have personally wore in the past, ethically produced, and aesthetically pleasing. Please guess how many brands out there that have all that? close to nothing. And how many brands out there that have all that with an ability to pay me? even closer to nothing.

Every time I post a blog post, there is a hell of a production going on. Renting locations, hiring photographer, buying props, finding accessories, and on and on and on... And yet, people still telling me like "Will you promote for me i give you a free tshirt sometime soon in the future alright??". Hell no

I feel very much upset when my fellow fashion bloggers are thrilling and thriving under the sun when they sip champagne under the sunset in Bali, while I work my 16 hours ship , only to go home at 4am, get prepared and head out for shoot again at 7.

FAQ:
- How do you afford all these clothes?
- I don't. They are either from work, vintage or I made them.Have not bought a thing in at least a year

- How do you pay for all of your travel expenses??
- I stay at friend's house, couch surfing, sleep in a sleeping bed on a street. Take a 4 day flights instead of 1 to save 20 dollars, book ticket a year in advance, and let's not forget the amount of loan I have bigger than my head from the bank


2. I literally hate everyone
I don't know about you guys, but people who meet me for the first time always tell me that they thought I am a party kind of person. I am not. In fact, I could live happily in just my room for the rest of my life. I have no desire to hang/chill/have fun, I just want to be with my Netflix 100% honest.

Yesterday I went out to order food and i realize I have not open my mouth to talk in a week, and I feel just fine. Beside the depression, anxiety, and all that psychology term doctors use to describe me, I am just genuinely not a people person.

Fashion week party? No thanks. Brand launching, red carpet? No thanks. People also have the usual misunderstanding that I model for some reason. Please, I couldn't even bare looking at the mirror this morning. Have you ever seen a selfie of me on my instagram? May be 1 or 2 in my entire blogging life, because I hate having the camera pointing at me.

How do I make this work? I post photos on my blog and media sites and never look back. It's like you don't read your diary in the third grade, it is just too embarrassing. My one and only photographer is also my best friend's girlfriend, and she is the one who took every single photo of me in the past 2 years. I am just not comfortable working with anyone else, so yes that modeling thing is not going to happen anytime soon.

The amount of people assuming that I have a life is overloaded. I always receive emails like " I would totally sign with you but I assume you already have an angency". Hell no. No one even offer me a contract before lmao. Something about me gives out the aura that I am very "settled" I guess, like I have figured everything out, but honestly I only just found out I wore my underwear inside out and that's why I have been itching all day.

I have 5 friends, 4 very close one, and my photographer who work with me almost everyday. All of them have known me my whole life. If they offer me new friends, I said no thanks I have enough to use for now. I usually find myself very uncomfortable in a group more than 3 people.


3. I am the most unlucky person on the planet

I know I have talked about this before, but again no one ever seems to understand what I am talking about. You know how people always tell you shit like "it's all in your head" and "trust me it's just what you think". Come one people seriously stop being cliche. Obviously it's all in my head tell me what kind of thought doesn't come from my head?? Also it is obvious that it's just what you think that it is just what i think. Think, people, think.

Right now, when I am typing this, I am sitting in the immigration room of Singapore. I was denied immigration and been sitting here for hours, in a room full of prostitutes, coming here hoping to get married, just because I am Vietnamese and my school failed to document some of my paper.
If you think that "It is just a one time thing, you are just being negative", again, you are wrong. Actually, I have been living like this my entire life, and I didn't even realize that was bad luck until someone pointed it out for me. This part I admit, I am not good at realizing when things about me are odd to people, like when i squirt lemonade on pizza and received dirty looks.

My entire life, every time, if I decided to stay at home, the electricity is gone/heater broken/ a hole magically appears and from there shits start to fall into my bed. I wish I am being over dramatic but I am so not.

Right now, I just got out of the airport, went to a vegan place to eat, it has closed, and the hostel I booked has no elevator so I am carrying my 40kg luggage up to level 3.

Fun fact, one of the reason I chose to wear black, is because "black" in Vietnamese literally means "bad luck". That's what my friend calls me, bad luck. I also have a 13 tattoo on my elbow, because sometimes I think it's just what represents me the best.

And I am telling you, my bad luck is not even the universal bad luck type, it is the crazy tsunami tornado type. Example, first time I went to New York, it was the coldest ever winter in the history of America. First time I went to Nepal: snow storm in the middle of summer. Went back to Vietnam after winter in Cali? The hottest ever summer of the century. All of this, happen within 1 month. Call me crazy but that's shit luck.

Right now I just realized that my hostel is on top of a karaoke + "good time" bars and prostitutes are horrible singers. What's up with me and sex workers today omg

I got one hell of a story to tell you. Remember 2 weeks ago I was in Oklahoma for graduation? Well that shit was really fucking shitty as well. If you follow me on tumblr or snapchat, you will know parts of the story: My class went for a trip to the filming studio of Channel 5's weather station, and I took a random tourist photo with my middle finger up at the green screen which was showing a map of Oklahoma. Me, stupidly, post that photo on my social media sites with the caption "Hi, the weather is bad and y'all going to die", and it went VIRAL. I have no idea I could get a million reblogs in 3 days. At first, I thought that was cool, until I went to class later and I got scolded in front of the class for "doing bad things at channel 5". My teacher demand me to write an apology letter to Channel 5, and realizing it was bad publicity for them, I did and I was sincerely sorry, but I keep wondering how the hell did they found out?? Just at that moment my friend messaged me and said apparently I have gone viral on reddit and 9gag. I wish I can post the photo here for you guys to see but that would made all these happen again lol.

As I read through the comments on Reddit, I saw the reason why I almost got failed in my class: a guy tweeted channel 5 to ask who am I, because according to him "there is no way they let her on television with eyebrow piercing like that".

This was Thursday. And while all of these are happening, tornado approach Oklahoma. The first one hit right after I posted the photo,and the second one did while we was having our graduation dinner. Literally after I just put the lettuce in my mouth, the siren howled, and we rushed back to the hotel. We all have to went into the hotel's laundry room to stay, because that's the safest place in the hotel, and that's when I saw myself on BBC news. Yes, fucking BBC news. "This photo is becoming huge on the Internet because just after she posted it with the caption "Hi, the weather is bad and y'all going to die, Oklahoma got hit by one of the worst tornado ever". Imagine my feeling, I wished the ground would pretty please crack a hole so I can fall down on the side and sob for a little while.
Next day, here we go, my graduation. Wearing a gown and tassel and all, happy me was just received my cert and strutting off the campus street, when my teacher literally just came up and said " Channel 5 has canceled the tour for our school forever, I have wrote a transcript to the dean and you will never be forgiven in Oklahoma". After that she just walk off, like that damn tornado just wreck everything and leave with no hard feeling whatsoever.

Pissed, upset, hating everything, being bullied even more by my already terrible roommates, I couldn't wait flying to LA the day after to see my sister. Only it didn't happen. Obviously another tornado came and my flight was canceled. And it was canceled again the next day. And my flight from LA to Hanoi was also canceled for 2 days in a row.

Go on, tell me my name is not 13 now, I dare you.
Sorry, enough rant for today. I probably should go to sleep with other 16 people in the dorm room snores as my lullaby. That's what you get for being poor and unlucky and full of hate.



Doll

Recover, relapse, repeat

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Mental disorders, such a bitch. You will never know to take it seriously or not, when every signs may be resulted in something so crucial, so painful, but it also could just mean that you needed another cup of coffee. I am torn, has always been, but some days are just colder than others so the wounds spike up above the average tolerance level.

I always tell myself that I am a recovered bulimic, and emphasis on the word "recovered", because for me it is more than a state of mind, it is a promise of mine to me, to "just be clear" that I have gotten over "it". It happened, it sucks, but it is a thing in the past now, and although I am proud of myself for living through one hell like that, I know that it shaken my life so bad, I can never be as "innocent" as i once was.

A friend once told me, she doesn't believe in "true recovery". She said you relapsed once in awhile, just that where do you go from there. I didn't agree at first, because I know I have recovered, I am the living example that once can truly move on, but apparently I spoke too soon.

I hate it now that I woke up every morning with thoughts about food. Bad thoughts, good thoughts, spinning, circling my brain every minute of the day. Sometimes I wonder, why the fuck am I so concerned with such a mundane thing, just go out and eat like a normal human, it is so simple. Some other times, I caught myself screaming at loved ones for not being understanding when I can't share a meal with them, because I am afraid once I start to eat, I would not be able to stop.

Years into recovery, I found myself at a normal, healthy weight again. Thoughts about this, like everything else, is completely mixed. I feel much much healthier physically, and I appreciate that I could do all the things I couldn't when I was sick, but at the same times I feel lost, like I have just been thrown into another bag of meat that wasn't my own, and I feel so extremely uncomfortable with this body I feel ill.

Nights I lay in bed, stretching and cocooning and kicking and hugging myself, trying to own the skin I'm in. I know that this thing consists 70% water and blood and bones and neurons and muscles, but the urge to poke it open so the fats I KNOW that is drowning me inside can ooze out is so strong I can't breath. I don't know who is the real me anymore, the one who is sobbing and fighting, or the one that is being crushed to death inside all these layers of meat.

I feel disgusted, to say the least.

People around me being normal is the freakiest trigger. Walking around casually complaining about their new diet. Walking around telling friends they are fat. Walking around looking at photoshopped human and said " I wish I look like that".

Normal human who tells me "You are so healthy now I'm proud". Normal humans who grab my arms and say " Finally you are not all bones again". Normal human who just have to say shits about my weight, gain or lose.

I feel like I am lying now if I say I no longer have issues with food. I know that I have to get through this again, no matter how hard it is, not for myself but for many people who care about me too. Girls around with their EDs, always tell me how I am inspiring them to recover, and they say if I can they can too. What will they say now? I just have to do this, I just have to.

How is the questions. Will it be easier the second time around? Last time, I was all alone, but now I am surrounded. I never knew how much of a difference that a few years can make, until I see myself staring at my 180k followers account, hating every photo of me, wanting to delete every single one of them so no one can see those thighs, that stomach, the fats that can be seen no matter how many clothes I use to cover up.

I know what I have to do, but I don't know what to do.

Alley

your b-day gift this year: me

Flawless

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