Scorpionic - non sober post #1.

I get intense, I'm high-key possessive (not in a "I don't want you with other girls" way but in a "I want every part of you to be mine" way - arguably scarier), I'm all-or-nothing and jumping into love with blazing passion.

I'm not looking for casual flings or hook-ups or "lets see where this goes". I had a talk with a friend (the same friend mentioned in the previous post) and we agreed that we're very tired of the forced nonchalance in dating culture and we're sick of casual dating and we'd like the next relationship to be the last, but...

Dating is a numbers game. Logically, relationships are built on shared experiences, facing obstacles down together, and all that jazz. The key here being that relationships are built, not made. I am aware that, rationally, one cannot jump into a serious relationship immediately. Relationships are created from emotional sediment that comes in with the tide, and remain when the crashing waves cease.

However, I am emotionally incompetent, and my freakish intensity causes me to get serious way before it's time. Scorpio description: "looking for someone to bond with, on a soul level, in the area of love and relationships" and I suppose that's very much me. I want the chemistry (sizzling, unbearable, heated) and I want the emotional connection (intuitive, deep, jolting). I don't find that with everyone, so the rare few I can actually see myself bonding with, I pursue at a sprint.

As much as I crave intimacy and closeness, the desire wars against a very strong fear: that of abandonment or the potential to be deeply hurt (after all, intimacy comes with emotional vulnerability).

Of course, they say to check your Venus signs in love, and my Venus just so happens to fall in Capricorn. Committed, practical Capricorn who views a solid relationship as one built on investments and thoughts of the future. When I throw the rest of my astrological signs into the mix (Leo moon - passionate and dramatic, grand; Scorpio sun - intensity that can be scorching), I just end up becoming a huge trembling mass/mess of emotions.

Talked to my ex, Bear, and he mentioned that yeah, my intensity was overwhelming. But he realised it was a personality trait that he couldn't and wouldn't have changed about me, whereas what he could change was his reaction to aforementioned intensity. Which is a fantastic way of looking at it! Shoutout to Bear for being great enough to do that and for teaching me that.

In the end, what I did learn was this: your emotions are not "too" anything. They are not "too much", they are not "too intense" (hahaha, I know, time to follow my own advice). What matters is finding someone who is able to adapt to your emotional style (is that even a relevant phrase because if not, I'm making it one) and how you love. Bottom line... Love is love, regardless of its trappings, and if it's a healthy and consensual relationship, you deserve a partner who is able to take you, in all of your you-ness, in stride.

Choose a partner that chooses you, everytime and everyday. Not just on your best days, but on your worst too. Because it's better than the alternative, which is... not you.

Casual dating.

Much like casual sex, overthinking, and BDSM, casual dating isn't for everyone.

It isn't for me.

And that's okay. I had a talk with my ex, Bear (yeah, you'll see references to him sprinkled here and there on the blog, especially on my old posts), and he told me to stop looking for love and to let it happen. He told me to stop thinking for once and reminded me that love cannot be forced. Let go. Breathe.

His words got me thinking and I delved into a period of introspection. More than love, I think what I search for is commitment. I view loyalty and effort as more romantic than passion or emotion. After all, when the passion fades away, as it inevitably does, what is left behind?

As I was on Tumblr, I stumbled across a post from acutelesbian.tumblr.com that perfectly resonated with me and how I personally feel about love. It was articulate, well-written, and, as a pragmatic person, I could identify with it.

The post is here if you want to read it from its source, otherwise I'll be quoting their post below:

A lot of people ask me what my biggest fear is, or what scares me most. And I know they expect an answer like heights, or closed spaces, or people dressed like animals, but how do I tell them that when I was 17 I took a class called Relationships For Life and I learned that most people fall out of love for the same reasons they fell in it. That their lover’s once endearing stubbornness has now become refusal to compromise and their one track mind is now immaturity and their bad habits that you once adored is now money down the drain. Their spontaneity becomes reckless and irresponsible and their feet up on your dash is no longer sexy, just another distraction in your busy life. 
Nothing saddens and scares me like the thought that I can become ugly to someone who once thought all the stars were in my eyes.

The follow up is beautifully written.

I never expected this to be my most popular poem out of the hundreds I’ve written. I was extremely bitter and sad when I wrote this and I left out the most beautiful part of that class.

After my teacher introduced us to this theory, she asked us, “is love a feeling? Or is it a choice?” We were all a bunch of teenagers. Naturally we said it was a feeling. She said that if we clung to that belief, we’d never have a lasting relationship of any sort.

She made us interview a dozen adults who were or had been married and we asked them about their marriages and why it lasted or why it failed. At the end, I asked every single person if love was an emotion or a choice.

Everybody said that it was a choice. It was a conscious commitment. It was something you choose to make work every day with a person who has chosen the same thing. They all said that at one point in their marriage, the “feeling of love” had vanished or faded and they weren’t happy. They said feelings are always changing and you cannot build something that will last on such a shaky foundation.

The married ones said that when things were bad, they chose to open the communication, chose to identify what broke and how to fix it, and chose to recreate something worth falling in love with.

The divorced ones said they chose to walk away.

Ever since that class, since that project, I never looked at relationships the same way. I understood why arranged marriages were successful. I discovered the difference in feelings and commitments. I’ve never gone for the person who makes my heart flutter or my head spin. I’ve chosen the people who were committed to choosing me, dedicated to finding something to adore even on the ugliest days.

I no longer fear the day someone who swore I was their universe can no longer see the stars in my eyes as long as they still choose to look until they find them again.

I had a conversation with a friend and he said he believed that anybody could fall in love with anyone. I'm a little bit more discriminating, but I see the logic in that.

I suppose that I don't need chemistry, or mindblowing sex (bit of a stretch, this), or physical attractiveness in a partner. Those are all bonuses. Chemistry changes, sex becomes stale and boring, beauty withers (from a white supremacist, age-ist standpoint - I swear my partner will always be beautiful to me).

I just want someone who chooses me, and makes that effort to keep me, over anything or anyone else they can have. In return, of course I'd do the same.

Once upon a time, I met a male witch.

It was a fascinating set of circumstances that led me to him.

He had dark, knowing eyes and when he looked at me, it felt like he was stripping my walls away. Once or twice, I cringed away from his gaze and looked down at my lap (as if it helped).

"Your soulmate is somewhere in your life," he told me. I didn't (and still don't) believe in the concept of soulmates - there's something about the idea that one person was made to completely fit who I am or who I am meant to be that rubs against my thought patterns like a hostile cat darting away from pets, and it reeks too much of fate and destiny and the whole shebang that things that happened had been meant to happen instead of merely being cruel human nature.

Regardless, it was intriguing.

He told me a few things about my supposed soulmate:

1. He (yes, very specifically a male) was born in the morning, between 8 AM and 12 PM (even more specifically he told me that this soulmate was born between sunrise and noon), and he was around my age.
2. He was a happy-go-lucky person who enjoyed making people laugh and smile. Oh god, an optimist, I thought with an inward groan. I can't stand optimists.
3. He and I had not met yet, but we would inevitably cross paths as we were peripherally in each other's social circles.
4. He was even prettier than I am (I took to this particularly badly), and he was a bona fide pretty boy. Not good not good not good.
5. Our paths would intersect within two years.

The last point was of interest to me. This was in July last year, and more than a year has passed. It's obviously just a matter of months till he's proven right or wrong. Of course, being me, I came up with a list of counter-arguments in the event I do meet someone I fall uncharacteristically in love with, the first being:

It's highly possible that I meet someone who meets the criteria within this span of time and this causes a demand characteristic in which I adjust my behaviour and fall in love with this person purely because he ticks every box on the checklist, and then I date him and in the event we have a happily-ever-after because he can actually put up with my issues, I then believe oh my god, he is my soulmate.

I mean, it's not a terrible situation but still. I'm only a closet hopeless romantic because I'm much too sensible and logical and practical to toss everything to the wind and dash away into the sunset (forreals, that's a terrible thing to do because what about responsibilities). I lack spontaneity and you'll never find me kissing in the rain because guys, that's a really unhealthy thing to do considering the levels of acidity in our rains. 

What I'm trying to say is that the idea of a soulmate is one that scares my very practical and self-sufficient soul. Besides that, research has shown that invoking/believing in the concept of soulmates often results in higher dissatisfaction in a relationship and less working through problems. Of course, I'm being negative on purpose, and there is something or the other I'm missing out here (like the greater levels of satisfaction reported by the soulmate group after recalling conflict they'd overcome or whatever) in view of expressing my own personal opinion.

Anyway, the clock is ticking and I wonder.

Comfort.

trigger warnings for alcohol and drug mentions

Sometimes you seek comfort in the arms of strangers and that is alright. You crave physical intimacy, and you shudder at the sensation of unfamiliar lips on your own. Their bodies become maps to new worlds. "Touch me here," they whisper, and your hands slide over their skin in a place you never got to explore with someone else.

Sometimes you seek comfort in the company of slurred words and a spinning mind. There is a painful clarity in a high that is seamlessly painless. You do not understand it, but it feels like it understands you. You escape. Come back. You need you.

Sometimes you seek comfort in solitude. You feel the springs of your mattress underneath your body and think "I will not leave my bed today". The curtains are drawn and you lie on your side, tears sliding quietly into your pillow. I draw back quickly - some things are too private even for a lowly narrator to speak on.

Sometimes you seek comfort in friends. You reconnect with people you always meant to get back to but never did. You relearn them, and in the process you flame the smoking embers of what you used to be. You rediscover the joy of late night drives and early morning conversations. The constriction in your throat lightens in their presence.

You learn the difference between comfort being a distraction and comfort through an escape.

You will always seek comfort
sometimes in the unlikeliest of place
and sometimes in the usual avenues,
and sometimes you find it.

"You will fall in love again."

You will discover that different cultures have different ideas on love because, well, love is different for everyone. In Indonesian and Malay languages, love is ruled by the liver. In your mind, love is ruled by the unattainable now.

You will love again.

You will love the creation of art - the tap tap tap of your keyboard as you rhythmically key words together to create vivid works that sear across the imagination; the gliding smooth roughness of a brush over your canvas smearing colours that blend together to capture emotions in a way words cannot describe; and the feel of air whipping over your skin as you move through the steps of a dance. They say that heartbreak creates the best art. Whether or not this is true, I do not know. But wouldn't you like to find out?

You will fall in love with your friends all over again. Perhaps you have taken your friendship for granted, or perhaps you have not seen them in a while. Maybe you could see nothing but their negative traits, little quirks that annoy you, in recent times. But once they receive the news, you will discover the best friends you could ever have. You will rediscover the ability to laugh and cry all over again in a safe space.

You will learn to love yourself. You will remember that you wake up everyday and keep going, and that there is beauty in your strength and endurance. You will hear your laughter and you will not cringe away from it. You will feel your saltwater tears sliding down your cheeks and marvel at your capacity to withstand. Your version of self love may vary from day to day - some days it is pizza in bed, other days it is your body covered in sweat that drips to the floor around your feet.

There are many different forms of love.

There is only one you.

"Those who walk away from you in the dark should be forgotten in the light."

I've always enjoyed poetry - pretty words lined up in rows and separated into stanzas.

My current favourites are:

• Michel Faudet: beautifully erotic with some hints at the beauty of BDSM romance
• Clementine von Radics: romantic, powerful
• Meggie Royer: real, painful, her poetry moves me to tears

But what works best for pain? What soothes me best?

I found this book of poetry once with Phyllis in Kinokuniya: "I wrote this for you" by pleasefindthis. Instead of describing how beautiful this book is, I'm gonna leave some extracts instead:

“The bad news is, your choices and intentions, some people and places, those nights spent awake and all you've done, can lead you to the bottom of the pit. The good news is, this wouldn't be the first time someone's crawled, tooth and nail, out of hell.”

"I am not a place for cowards." - Caitlyn Siehl

Today, I fell in love with myself - unashamedly and without restraint.

The haze was unbearable, the heat oppressive. Dust flickered through the air and spun in my lungs. I choked, and like a knee-jerk reaction, tears rose unbidden and threatened to spill down my frantically made up eyes.

It felt a lot like loss.

I had a long ride yesterday, the bike clamped between my thighs. There was a sense of the erotic in its crude comfort - the strength of my legs keeping me safe, stopping the crash. I was balanced against the harsh post-storm winds of the tropics. Little drips of rainwater slashed a wet trail down my visor and the sound of the roaring air rushing past me echoed in my skull.

It was a shift in perspective.

I heard that love could be a thief - or love could be a robber. What is the difference? I wondered endlessly, my bare feet treading the cold floor. Semantics, technicalities. The difference lay in your awareness. One snuck up on you and the realisation dawns like the sunrise during a silly night with your friends. Your sleepy eyes are drunk and alcohol heavy, the indigo night lifts to a blurry grey and - "the sunrise" you murmur, jolted at the sight. Other times, you anticipate it. You see it written everywhere like the notice of the demolition of a well known building. You might even petition against it.

Oftentimes, we forget our own importance.

I was guilty of that (and maybe you are too).

I lay a quiet afternoon in bed, thoughts speeding through and leaving me like my consciousness was a highway. Their tracks left little exhaust trails all over my mind. I allowed them to consume me. I felt suffocated, like how you feel in the dark nightclub when the bass moves your body through the thick and acrid cigarette smoke. I scrubbed my body clean in the shower, each stroke setting my imagination aflame. I was scrubbing myself clean of touch, I removed the traces of other people from my skin, I belonged to myself once more. The self recrimination lessened and the ache eased. And just like that, my thoughts began to change.

I felt myself burst anew. Thoughts of self love hit me like the keen edge of protectiveness I felt when I first saw my youngest sister lying in the incubator - barely alive, barely more than a newborn. I felt delicate and fragile, just like the glass separating her from the world outside. I'd pressed my hands to the glass and felt its strength push back against my palms, reassured.

I knew everything would be okay.

My thoughts on The Witcher III: Wild Hunt.

Yes, I'm just now starting on Witcher III, and I'm several years late to the Witcher series party. *cringes* And boy, am I sorry for it!

Geralt can make wolf puns at me anytime he likes tbh

Backstory

I'm fairly certain everyone here knows the background of the Witcher series and how the games take a fanonical depiction of the book series by Andrzej Kapkowski, a Polish fantasy author. The Witcher games likewise revolve around the main character, Geralt, and his occupation as a Witcher (super badass monster slayer).

Why am I so lame

Because I spent forever playing that one Assassin's Creed game that I got majorly emotionally invested in. Assassin's Creed was (at that point) everything I'd ever wanted in a game: fairly decent open world, historic with a dash of fantasy, and god the graphics are fantabuloustic. However, my interest petered off maybe 30% into the game. The plot just wasn't that gripping (and I really do love me a good storyline), and I found certain elements a little too repetitive. Yeah, I'm fussy. Then Bear got me Animal Crossing: New Leaf and I got hooked on that. Pokémon released Omega Ruby/Alpha Sapphire and I spent forever on that, especially with the little Delta episode and the new hype on breeding (ask me about how Alan used me to con guys into giving me their breedjects).

How'd I get into Witcher of all things, then?

I'd actually spent months agonising over whether I should get Dragon Age or Skyrim. Friends over here immediately told me Skyrim was a better choice, being an open world fantasy game. However, I thought they were biased since DA wasn't a big thing over here. I put the question to Harley, a friend in the US, and they (a big DA fan) recited a list of very good reasons that made me very tempted to buy Inquisition. 

Then another friend did a bit of research and brought up the Witcher III, telling me that it was an open world fantasy RPG with a fantastic plot and main quest. Seeing that it had the traits I liked best about Skyrim and DA, I thought, "yeah, that sounds about right - I'll try that one out".

Truth be told, I'm actually surprised at the lack of hype surrounding the Witcher III over here.

Most of my friends here had only ever heard of the game peripherally, and so I didn't get anyone going at me "hey, yeah, that's a great game" or even "nawh, don't get that game". Nobody knew enough about the game to give me a solid opinion. Of course, it could also be possible that I didn't know enough gamers, or that my friends were into very different games. Nevertheless, I'm quite surprised at the general lack of knowledge about the game series.

Thoughts on the game

I loved the everliving cheese out of it. Immediately into the first hour of the game, I started getting emotionally invested in Geralt's quest. His character is mostly determined by the in-game choices, but it's easy to see that he's the stereotypical Strong Dude™ but what makes him so much better than that is the liberal dose of sass. Geralt isn't taking any of anyone's shit, and he makes damn sure everyone knows it (even the emperor ahhhh). His voice actor (Doug Cockle) has an absolutely amazing voice, and I honestly love listening to Geralt speak. Most people love the voice acting done on the game, but something about the voice acting for Yennefer bugged me - I didn't find her convincing enough, especially in the opening sequence. That didn't stop me from loving the game though, and I did grow used to it so it wasn't a major hang-up.

Samesies

I heard about the graphics downgrade and I was a little concerned about it, but the moment I booted the game up, I couldn't help but notice how amazingly pretty the whole thing was. The scenery (whether the forests or the cities or even skimming around the lakes) was just gorgeous. The sunlight glinting off the water, the glorious reds of the sunset glowing off the water while you're swimming... Wow. Even the wind is well done. The way the trees and leaves are whipped around by the air is a pretty immersive sight.

Which leads to how immersive the world is, in general. This is a world that is very easy to care for and about, from the war ravaged villages, to the bustling cities and opulent palaces. The world seems to be torn every way it can be, with war and monsters and scheming politicians. Gwent doesn't care for , but you do make important story decisions quite a bit so you've definitely got to be careful there. There's a huge pick of side quests in the game, as expected. Even the side characters are decently fleshed out, and if you opt to do a lot of side quests, it's difficult to get bored with them because it's a pretty diverse that you get to pick from. 

Then there is the inclusion of the card game Gwent. Pokémon trading cards fans, gather around, because this is where you're going to squeal. An analytical game that you can play against other characters, it relies a lot on logic and strategy and... card collecting. You can go on quests to collect cards, or you can buy them. 

Playing Gwent actually unlocks a secondary quest called "Collect 'Em All" - ohmaigod, be still my heart!

And... yes, Yennefer. Love her or hate her, you probably have a strong opinion about her. Don't get me wrong, Triss is pretty cool, but Yennefer... You've probably heard of her background story (and if not, it's a very quick worthwhile Google search away and in any case here's a quick recap: abused child becomes great sorceress and our Witcher here ties their fates up together with a genie wish and the pair have had a stormy relationship ever since). She's strong and independent, and she doesn't care about whatever stands in her way. A woman after my own heart. 

A few little notes: The soundtrack is very nice too, and I'm of the opinion that the soundtrack can really make or break a game. I've also heard good things about the DLCs, so if that's a thing you're into, it would be worth getting everything in one go! 

All in all, I can honestly say that this is the best game I've ever played (disclaimer: I've not played many games) and I think I'm going to be engrossed in it for, I dunno, forever. This is precisely the kind of game I like and everything about it appeals to me on every level. If you're up to the open world RPG thing, or if you like fantasy, then this might just be your thing too.

Here's a pretty good video review that I can relate to, but isn't by any means unbiased. :p

Multiracial baby.

Being a multiracial child comes with its own bunch of problems, much more if you have a white passing surname like mine (Morden; German for murder, an English town). At first, you think, hey I'm unique unlike all of these monoracial people, we live in a multiracial country, and then...

You realise you're in for a boatload of issues you never signed up for, but that doesn't mean you can ignore them.

Your racist monoracial relatives who don't approve of your parents' marriage or your mixed ethnicity, is one major one. You meet up once a year and never feel like you belong. You won't. And nobody will go out of their way to make you feel welcome. Everyone speaks in a language you don't understand and they're not gonna bother to translate for you - the perceived outsider.

You may have white privilege. You may even be white passing. This will gain you loads of attention, unwanted or not, at the expense of people who don't look like you who need the attention or deserve it better than you do. It's not my fault, you protest. Yeah, well, doesn't mean you shouldn't do anything about it either.

You're going to discover colourism. You're either going to be darker or lighter skinned than some of your family members. If you're lighter skinned, you'll enjoy more positive attention. If you're darker skinned... Well. We've heard all of those anti-black remarks from the people around us, and the advertisements on skin lightening... It won't be easy living in a world that demands that you hate yourself, hate your skin, hate your heritage. Us lighter skinned folk really need to speak out against comments on darker skin (God, the number of infuriating comments I've gotten from strangers about how fair I am and how that makes me so much prettier...) and remember that lighter skinned does not superiority make.

People are going to fetishise mixed race babies right in front of you and talk about you like you're an exotic hybrid. Tell them how gross that is. I always think of my monoracial friends touching my face gently and telling me how I'm lucky that I'm mixed and how that makes me better looking and I get so angry. Not at them, but for them. Just because we're mixed doesn't mean that we're the best of the worlds we've inherited. Doesn't mean we're any more talented, or intelligent, or better looking (the Ms Universe and white passing or Eurasian girls thing is a discussion for another day and involves eurocentric beauty standards so refer back to white passing privilege).

Some people might even argue about what culture you belong to. None of them and all of them, you think in your head. "You're only part x," your friends exclaim laughingly. You're part everything and wholly nothing, you inadvertently recall. Being everywhere, but belonging nowhere. You don't know the traditions, you don't remember practising any, your childhood is ethnically ambiguous. Let me tell you that you are more than the sum of your parts and that your inheritance of a culture does not come with the qualifier of having had to exercise it from childhood. You can choose to learn more about one of your cultures at adulthood and still belong to it. Likewise, you can feel completely disconnected to it and never have to identify with it if you choose not to.

Stupid xenophobic bullies will make their presence known. My sister was teased for years over her first name (Maria) and over the fact that our mother is from the Philippines. Some of her friends (whom my mother was friendly with and picked up from school and sent home, welcomed to our house, cooked for and listened to) made jokes about our mother being a maid, about my sister being a maid (not that there's nothing wrong with being a helper! There's so much we wouldn't get done without them.). They'd call her "Maria" like they would a dog. Feel free to tell these people off. They don't deserve your friendship if they don't understand why they're wrong after you've told them. It's okay, you'll always find better people.

Racism becomes a much more complicated issue when you're mixed race.

You're not going to know how to deal with a lot of the problems that do crop up. And that's okay. You will meet people who understand, or people who don't but are willing to listen. Find a supportive network, and support those multiracial children who are less privileged than you are. Educate the people around you on why and how they're being offensive.

I'm going to end this post here because it's past midnight and I can't think of anything more to add to it. Feel free to post comments on what I've missed. If I've overstepped myself, do correct me.

2015 in a nutshell.

• Found myself. Lost myself. 2016 - finding myself again.
• Cut my hair short because seriously, reject the idea that your femininity is tied to your hair, the way you look, your clothes. I am female because I say I am - I have no need to prove it to the world.
• Learnt to ride a motorcycle - a sleek and shiny black Kawasaki Ninja 250R is now my primary mode of transportation. There is nothing like the rush of speed through your blood, feeling the wind battling against the awareness of your frailty, the sheer magnitude of the dawning realisation of your mortality. 
• Fell in love with Shakespeare's Measure for Measure - Isabella the Zealot (crushing mere mortals in her grasping strides towards communion with God), Angelo (fallen from grace and favour - why do your words make my heart beat so? - stricken with emotions he never anticipated, his downfall)... God, I could go on and on.
• Epiphanies on how short life truly is and the reentering emphasis on how I should do things that make me happy.
• Cut out toxic people - or people that I could not see meeting me in a true marriage of emotional or intellectual maturity (which is not to say they weren't smart or good people, but rather that they could err on the side of offensive humour - honestly, that shit is tiring and unnecessary). Some of them did not understand how they were contributing to the stigma of oppressed groups, and they needed to go.
• Met new people - amazing, kind, genuine, wonderful people. 
• Lost weight, gained weight, losing my (shitty) perception on what I should look like and how much I ought to weigh.
• Got more tattoos done, that's for sure. Bigger pieces, smaller pieces, pieces that matter, pieces that serve no emotional purpose beyond their aesthetic.
• Discovered new things of myself. Fabulous things, terrible things.

Here's to 2016, and may it be a better year.