Showing posts with label personal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal. Show all posts
Whether in secondary or sixth form or university, we need some tips and tricks to get through our studies without dying inside.
At least I did and still do.
Since I'm starting my second this September, I thought I would compile my favourite study tips. Perhaps as a reminder to actually study now. So here are my top ten tips to study effectively!
2 . Listen to music. Any white noise to help your brain focus on the material at hand. I recommend instrumentals rather than any current pop music.
3 . Create a studying agenda or a schedule. Figuring what you will study at a specific time helps your mind focus on the task at hand.
4 . Take breaks often, usually I study for 20 - 30 minute intervals and spend the next 5 - 10 minutes resting, by reading or knitting.
5 . Switch your phone on airplane mode, and laptop without wifi. Let's be honest. We'd get much more work done without internet.
7 . Get enough sleep, which is pretty hard. You'll get more work done when you have slept the full 8 hours, or at least 6-7 hours. If required…
8 . Take naps. I love naps, they are underrated. 20 - 30 minute power naps are perfect boosts during the day to get your mind recharged.s!
9 . Figure out your study plan or how you want to study. Some people use mind maps but I don’t like them. I prefer using Lined paper and writing notes there, with highlighters. It's up to you to find a preferred way of studying.
10 . Reward yourself. After a good study session, I eat chocolate because it does help boost your memory. At least that’s what I tell myself because I find any excuse to eat chocolate.
As a law student, I would like to pretend I use all the tips. In reality, I do the bare minimum to get through. As most of my friends do too. If you need more help, I compiled 13 study tips last year!
Still, I hope this does help you get through classes. O Level, A Level and the new semester is just around the corner after all. Yikes.
What are your favourite study tips?
with love,
"I am nineteen. You are twenty-one."
It starts like every other story. A boy meets a girl. They are young, careless and free. Just how they should be. Smiles exchanged, and a feeling growing. It wasn't love. No, not yet but it was something. Something they wanted.
It ends the way it shouldn't. A boy meets another girl. A girl becomes bitter. A girl writes a piece. And expresses it through an Open Mic Night a year later.
Whoops.
turban : Adlina Anis | earrings : (similar)
turtleneck shirt : Uniqlo | dress : (similar)
Photos by
I've worked with Kaleidoscope Studio before, all the way in 2015 for Shocktober. When I heard they were hosting an Open Mic night, I was compelled. I registered as a performer, and proceeded to freak out. I shouldn't have done this.
I had written a few pieces but I haven't been onstage for almost two years. It's been a while since I've had an audience that wasn't watching me through a screen. I will admit, my tongue no longer spits out words, rather rusty and stutters often.
That didn't stop me from filming it though.
That didn't stop me from filming it though.
More than anything else, it was a cathartic release. I forgot how much I enjoy being on stage. There is a comfort to speaking in public, unabashed and unafraid. Perhaps you need a bit of bitterness in your heart, and a kinder audience to watch.
Yet when you start speaking, all you can do is enjoy yourself.
I hope you enjoy.
with love,
"Video Everyday in August."
Easy, right?
I hope so or else, I am definitely overextending myself this month. Because I'm going to try to film a video everyday in August. Easier said than done. Pushing out ideas monthly is hard enough for one person.
So I need your help.
So I need your help.
scarf : Verona Collection | earrings : Phoebe Davey Designs
lipstick : MAC Lipstick in Taupe | shirt : H&M
My favourite creators have done VEDA of sorts, once a year. Because imitation is the best form of flattery, I decided to do it as well. I waited until August, it seemed like the most appropriate time. Summer break, a few events to blog, and perhaps when I feel the most creative.
I will be posting Monday through Friday, every weekday rather than everyday for my own sanity. I will stick blog every Monday and Thursday. VEDA is a way for me to express through videography, and explore other creatives.
Though, I don't think I can do this all by myself.
I will be posting Monday through Friday, every weekday rather than everyday for my own sanity. I will stick blog every Monday and Thursday. VEDA is a way for me to express through videography, and explore other creatives.
Though, I don't think I can do this all by myself.
This is where you come in.
Please leave your video ideas, and questions down below! I will film a video as answer, and hopefully, we can start a conversation. I was so happy to see the response from Monolingual Malay, and want to see more like it.
I'm excited! Are you?
Leave your video ideas & questions down below!
with love,
She said to me,
'You're almost pretty, but not quite.'
'You're almost pretty, but not quite.'
I wished I were but I’ve looked at my reflection long enough to realise it would never be.
Instead, I forced myself to try. Artificially, superficially, pretty. I caged my teeth in metal terrains for three years. I starved my waist three inches in three months. I hid my bruises beneath bright dresses. I started to smile more. People began to notice me.
It is then I wondered.
Is this what pretty feels like?
Oh, this is a trilogy I see.
I've been writing more this year, I note.
I flip through the pages of my book. Ink-stained fingers, blue and black. I smile to myself, recalling each reason I wrote each word. Most snippets were crap, these were feasible. Feasible enough for me to publish.
So here is another edition of Words in Books I'll Never Write...
It's filled with friends, food and the odd screenshot. I wish it were as curated as my Instagram. Instead, it is messy, wild and carefree. An almost perfect portrayal of my life now. I'm not complaining, I revel in the chaos.
But there are times, when I realise how much I miss blogging. I could organise my life in each post, assign significance to an outfit, or pretend I know things I actually don't.
I want to go back to blogging. I miss it.
But there are times, when I realise how much I miss blogging. I could organise my life in each post, assign significance to an outfit, or pretend I know things I actually don't.
I want to go back to blogging. I miss it.
My first thought is to apologise.
I forgot to update this blog on adventures I've had, and the stories I want to tell. There are drafts still here. An unfinished story from Easter Break, a love letter, and scripts for the next few weeks. My second thought is 'no one really cares.'
I forgot to update this blog on adventures I've had, and the stories I want to tell. There are drafts still here. An unfinished story from Easter Break, a love letter, and scripts for the next few weeks. My second thought is 'no one really cares.'
People forget, I forget.
I don't want to explain myself, give excuses and repeat. I don't want to write a long-winded concession. I don't want to do anything but say, I'm here.
Hi again.
I still want to tell you a few things. I am a blogger after all. Bloggers demand you know every good thing that happens to them. To make life seem more interesting.
six good things to note.
I removed my braces.
I saw Jon Bellion perform.
I watched Harry Potter & The Cursed Child. (met the cast, and proceeded to cry)
I finished my exams. I'm going back home.
April and May were good months to me. In general, the first half of 2017 has been a good year despite its rough start. I am back in a familiar place. Sitting in my bedroom, storage boxes stacked and waiting for a call. I am happy to say I'm happy. I hope it continues, pessimism insists it won't.
Someone asked if I will start blogging again. I nodded and said, 'Yes. Just give me some time.' They furrowed their brows, and ask why I didn't start earlier. Why did I take a break for so long?
I shrug.
"Life happens. That's all."
what's going on in your life?
what if he stayed? what if i left?
As a millennial, I feel it is my duty to be dramatic. Constantly wondering and woefully curious. Posing questions that perhaps should not be answered. Despite knowing fully well I shouldn't, I still nonetheless. And with these questions, always start the same.
What if?
"i don't seek lovers. i seek muses."
- every pretentious prick ever
More specifically, the pretentious prick in a red scarf.
Falling in love is a fickle thing. One that I cannot describe so easily. Many young writers have written novels about love, romance and its in-betweens. They express their love of love in ways the brain may be able to seek. These writes know love. I am not one of them.
Instead, I sit on my bed. Behind my board and books, and just talk about love. And why falling out of love is okay.
Yet still not enough.
It has almost been a year since the first edition. I featured three passages from a book literally titled 'Words In Books I'll Never Write.' I've switched books since then.
My best friend gifted a cardboard-covered book, with my favourite quote printed in gold. I squealed and told her I loved it. I keep all my slices there, filling it in whenever inspiration strikes. After a year, I decided to write up another post.
Here is another page from words in books i'll never write.
My best friend gifted a cardboard-covered book, with my favourite quote printed in gold. I squealed and told her I loved it. I keep all my slices there, filling it in whenever inspiration strikes. After a year, I decided to write up another post.
Here is another page from words in books i'll never write.
you smile.
"For tonight?" I ask, just as arms wrapped around my waist.
You nod.
"For tonight."
"For tonight."
I smile, caressing your face nuzzled in my shoulder. I can imagine you differently. I let your face remain the same. Brown hair and flushed skin. Slender and young, a wickedness lighting your eyes. I'll call you beautiful for tonight, as you will call me perfect. Plain lies we tell ourselves, and I almost believe it.
This isn't love, but we can pretend it is.
"There is not a single word in the whole world
That could describe the hurt."
That could describe the hurt."
I kept your heart in a glass box.
You gave it so willingly, asking me to keep it safe. You kissed my hands and wished me well. So I left it in the box, tucked away in my drawer. Every night since, I checked to see if it still beats for me. I always smiled at its glow. Tonight was different. Tonight, I removed it from its cage. Tonight, I held your heart in my hand.
This is where we end.
I never wanted this to happen. Staring at the concrete ground, refusing to look at you. My breath slow and tears swelling. I hold everything back, you say nothing. We both realise then where we stand. After a long silence, I finally speak. Three words; barely a whisper. I repeat it again and again, until I cry.
“I’m so sorry.”
How were you to know, we would end like this?
i love them to bits
but this is ridiculous.
but this is ridiculous.
A plethora of 'My [blank] Does My Voiceover' have sprung up online. From boyfriends to dads, neither of which were willing to do this. Instead, I turn to my siblings when I was back in Brunei. Two girls and an unwilling boy in the living room. I asked them up front.
"Do you want to do my voiceover?"
Each turned to me, eyes wide with mischief. And I immediately regret it.
So my family did my voiceover. How did it go?
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