beauty .


Name: Jayne Lee Mei Ying
Age: 16 years old
Date of Birth: June 29th 1992
Location: Malaysia

Touch a feeling you've never had.
Hear a voice you didn't know.
See a person you hadn't thought of.

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Monday, May 19, 2008
1:39 PM

I just have to be such a hard-core MTV lover, don't I? Well, I watched the replays of their award shows last year, over the weekend (which I should have been using to study for my biology exam on Wednesday), and I discovered what a Woodie is, and that it's the first award Boys Like Girls won, and that I absolutely love the song Monsoon by Tokio Hotel. Ok, I pretty much love Tokio Hotel now.

There's a difference between liking a band's music, and actually getting impacted by the band itself. I, for one, get introduced to new bands all the time, and if I like how they sound (especially the singer's voice), then I'll download them onto my playlist, and for those bands I really, really like and I know I'll never get tired of their songs and would pay to go to their concert, I put as my favorites.

And then, there's the one rare exception. Eventhough I like all the aforementioned bands, and I listen to their music... I'm not motivated to actually get to know the band; I just enjoy their music. That's what set apart TC5, in the first place. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but I was suddenly reading their interviews and I kind of fell in love with how real they are.

That's why I wanted to meet them so much, and know everything about them. They're interesting. You may want to go to a band's concert, but you probably wouldn't care much whether you met them or not, depending on how much they've actually impacted you, just by being themselves.

A serious, die-hard fan loves the band itself, and not just the band's music.

This is a conundrum, though, when you consider how many teenies love the band itself only, or only became interested in the band because of the singer's looks and then, only started caring about their music. But, I don't think it's our place to judge teenies, anymore, as much as we hate them.

Sure, they might be pretty clue-less sometimes, and babble too much about how hot the band members are, and be so nice it's a bit fake, and think they're the most hard-core fan out there, and that's annoying, yes, but they're still fans. Misguided maybe, but they still buy albums, not illegally download the songs (usually, they don't or they do and then buy the album later, anyway), and they still pay to go to the concerts and buy band merchandise and everything. They still contribute to the band's earnings.

It's just because of the fact that they're usually cocky show-offs on the boards, that we hate them. But, I don't think it's fair to classify those kinds of girls as teenies so much, anymore. They have every right to be as passionate about the band as much as we do, don't they?

I think the only thing we can truly hate is when someone who knows nothing about the band, has never heard them play before, knows none of their songs, and basically doesn't care about them at all, enters all those pre-show contests and wins them, making the band think that they're the real, serious fans and they get all the glam and free stuff that comes with it, which should've gone to the real fans.

That's what we used to call teenies, remember? And now, the TC5 boards are probably the most malicious ones around, because a portion of the girls who joined didn't know the rules and the way the boards work, and we weren't tolerant enough to show them the way nicely, I guess. I'm not blaming anyone. I've bashed so many of them so many times, and although, at the time, I could barely stand them, it was also the wrong thing to do. :(

I think we've all forgotten that when we first started liking TC5 or perhaps any other band we were once crazy about, we were just as obsessed as they were. I remember wanting to gather every scrap of information I could on them, watching every video, gushing over how cute Kyle looks, and wanting to meet them desperately. That was last year. Now, I'm pretty much over them all, and I don't remember why I liked them so much in the first place.

I could miss the June 7th concert, and not really feel like I've missed out on anything, other than not being able to spend time with my best friends. It's just a phase every fan gets, but they'll eventually outgrow it, and even if they don't, we shouldn't be mean or upset about it. We'll just have to accept it, and if we really can't stand it, just steer clear of them.

This doesn't mean we shouldn't point out that they've broken the rules, because we should. And if they don't learn, then to the mods we go. I know I sound like a patronizing school-teacher or something, but I don't want out boards to be so conflicted and hate-filled anymore. I don't want us harboring resentment against the 'teenies', because it hurts us too.

We're being racist when we generalize that all teenies are the same. Some, if given the chance, could've been really good friends. Sorry if any of what I've just said ticks you off and/or makes you never want to speak to me again.

I side-tracked too much. I meant to explain how Tokio Hotel impacted me, the same way TC5 once did.

Tokio Hotel has four members, and two of them are identical twin brothers, who don't look so identical anymore. Anyway, each brother has their own developed music taste and dressing style, which are basically polar opposites of one another. One has wild two-tone hair, and likes to wear tight stuff, and resembles the usual hard-core emo rock type. The other has dreadlocks, trucker caps, and wears baggy shirts and pants, making him look like a hip-hop enthusiast (which he apparently is).

So, anyway, I'd never in a million years have guessed that they're twin brothers who are supposed to be identical; they only look alike when it comes to their sharp cheekbones.

What does this have to do with me? Quite a lot.

Lately (or rather all the time...), I've been feeling so ordinary when it comes to how I dress and look; I feel like nobody really gets a sense of who I am, and what I like. I'm always pushing to find my identity, and I can never really find it. I always feel like I'm lost in other people's opinions, my parents' ideas of me, and the fact, that I'm basically not allowed to dress the way I really want to.

But, when a pair of twins can so distinguish themselves from one another, like that, and have such a unique sense of who they are, it gives me hope that maybe, one day, I'll be able to be that unique as well. They're like role-models for me. I don't want to be plain and usual with how I look. In fact, I've always been attracted to Harajuku styles and pop-out hairstyles.

It's just that, for now, I've no reason to dress that way. I don't go anywhere, and wherever I do go, isn't really worth dressing up. So, I'm biding my time until college. At least then, if I attend an art school, it won't be weird to look weird. And then, I won't have my parents barking at me because of the way I dress.

Tokio Hotel also impressed me with the fact that their band's been around since they were in middle school. And they really work hard on their music, especially since they're German, and they had to translate their songs into English and sing them as if they were written in English (you'd never guess that the singer actually has a thick German accent), when they released their international album, Scream.

Ack. I think I'm babbling about how great I think they are, now. *shuts up*

I'll probably still be missing from the boards, because of my horrible exams, which are starting to make me go mad. I keep wondering if I wrote enough to get the marks or not, and my dad's making it worse, because when I say there wasn't enough time, he says I didn't practice enough. Hell, I'm done with wanting to find the perfect way to study. I just want to get through this.

Running through the monsoon,
you're the world to the end of time.

And when I lose myself I think of you,
together we'll be running somewhere new,
through the monsoon.

Saturday, May 10, 2008
1:01 AM

Kanon! She's a Japanese singer, with a very enchanting voice. You give me the power, you give me the strength. I love that song. Anyway, I found out about her when I went searching for a way to download the opening theme for La Corda D'Oro Primo Passo. This fansite, Crescendo, had download links for her Brand New Breeze album, and for the album with the ending theme too (by Stella Quintet). The albums have the instrumental versions of the songs too.

So, then, I got so inspired that I wrote a one-shot for fun. Which I posted up on Fanfiction. net. And received 130+ hits last I checked, but only four people reviewed (including Bao-chan <3).

I like getting reviews and reading them. They make me smile, and I mini-spaz everytime I see an e-mail in my inbox that I've been reviewed. What I don't like is having to beg people to review. I don't want to be whiny, and demand people to review, but it's irritating to see the hits rise, while everyone keeps silent.

It's weird, but I see it as a sort-of rejection when that happens. I've seen other stories get thousands of reviews, and not to be obnoxious/mean/bitchy, I don't think most of them were all that great either. I work very hard to make sure my stories are neat, and written with proper grammar and spelling. Another thing I don't like is repetitive and over-used plots, so I make sure that mine are as original as possible, or I don't write it.

Ok, I'm not talking about the fanfiction in the La Corda D'Oro section. I'm specifying the Twilight section, since I've written three stories there (I had another one but I deleted it because it was a bit too much to handle, plot-wise). I've tried to tweak my stories to appeal more to the readers, taking hints from the stories with many reviews, but it hasn't worked.

Maybe it's just because I'm not writing stories involving the Cullens directly. But, there are thousands (I'm serious, there are about 20, 000+ stories in this section) of stories with them as characters, already. I'm simply trying to provide a little more variety for everyone. I guess it's tough when there are so many other writers out there to compete with.

I am glad, though, that I've had a few loyal readers since I started my first story (in May, last year! I'll be officially one year-seasoned at the end of this month). Sweet girls. I have some of them in my MySpace and Facebook, but we only talked occasionally. There was this one girl, though, who was nice enough to message me on MySpace and ask me what was wrong, when I was down once. I'll never forget that.


Oh, gosh. I've gone through two out of three of my Mentos Sour Mix rolls, already. 99 cents each. They're like drugs for me. Ever since the supermarkets stopped supplying the Trebor Sherbet sweets, I've turned to Mentos to keep me satiated. They don't taste as good as the sherbet ones did, though. I think the company producing them discontinued the product, or went bankrupt.

On an off note, those sweets really did have this white powder substance inside them, so I wonder if they really were some-sort of drug? I used to go through two packs of 36-45 sweets in a day, when I was younger. My dad had them banned, but I still found ways to sneak them in. Like, secretly dropping them into the shopping trolley and my mom paying for them without realizing, most of the time.

Yes, I am a criminal mastermind. ;)

I think I'd make a good pick-pocket. When I was in primary 5, I went to my friend's table, picked up her pencil box in front of her and walked away, without her noticing, since I was so naturally calm about it. My other friend was so amazed. But primary 5 and 6 are not my happiest years. I have lots of reasons but I don't feel like talking about all of them now.

Lately, I've been having a very dirty imagination. Sigh. I feel both blessed and cursed to have developed so fast. On one hand, all the adults I meet always respect me more because they think I'm in college or working, and I could probably pretend to be older and not have anyone notice or ask questions, but on the other, I have to deal with all the stuff that comes with being a woman, not a girl.

My boobs got bigger than any of the other girls in my class when I was ten, and I was the only one who didn't want to wear a camisole. I wasn't ready to grow up yet. But, I did. Then, the attack of the acne came when I was eleven, and I didn't do anything about it (something I horribly regret now) because I didn't think they'd get so bad. Now, my face still has red marks like I've got pimples there, eventhough my skin is actually smoother than it looks.

And then, I got my period at age twelve, in school, and the entire class, all guys included, knew, because first my skirt was stained with so much blood (sorry, if this is grossing anyone out... :/), so my chair had some, then my friend like rushed me to the bathroom, but nobody cleaned the chair, and then this guy SAT on my chair, and my other friend went "ZOMG." and told him, then he was like, "SHIT." and then suddenly, the whole class knew because he kind of yelled or something.

Thank God, I didn't know what happened until the next day. Otherwise, I might as well have just died. Good thing, it's a taboo to talk about such stuff in my primary school, since the students were mostly Malay. My mom says I'm lucky, because if that happened at any school she went to when she was my age, I'd have been taunted and humiliated for days. :(

My feet growing to size 9/10 so fast when I was little, that I had to start wearing adult-size strappy heels before I even went to secondary school, is another thing I hate. I'd look at all the Bubblegummers shoes and wish my feet weren't so big so I could wear those instead, and not have to look at the adult sizes and wonder if they'd fit me or not.

I still feel sad that I didn't get to enjoy wearing Mary-Janes when I could still fit them. Regretting the past is very bad, but I wish I had a way to go back to when I was eleven, and tell myself to go wash my face. I wish I could go back to my six-year old self, and tell her not to pick at the dry scabs on her legs, because they'd leave scars.

But, what's done is done. Now, I've got to live with all the mistakes my childhood self made. I whine about this stuff too much. I'm like a tape recorder repeating the same things over and over again. I should just shut up and forget about the past, shouldn't I?

Ack, I completely side-tracked from what I was supposed to talk about.

The whole reason I started talking about my horrendous puberty stage, is because I feel like I'm older on the inside too, the way I am on the outside, sometimes. I'm always thinking about what it'd be like to have a relationship, to have my first kiss, to hold hands with a guy, to have sex. Mmhm, I'm very dirty-minded. :(

My mom says I'm too young for all this stuff, and that I should just enjoy being young and care-free while I still can, and just have guy-friends, but I think I grew up too fast, before I had a chance to be a kid, mom. I've been thinking about having crushes since I was seven. Heck, I had my first short-term crush on the twelve-year old I sat next to on the school-bus when I was that age.

That's primarily one of the reasons why I've always had problems being friends with any guy. I'm too conscious of the fact that I might give them the impression I'm attracted to them,or something like that. Another thing is that I went to a school full of Malay guys, so I never actually talked to any Chinese guys my age before, in my life, until I went to secondary school. I didn't have any guy cousins my age either, or neighbors.

I once went to the park in front of my old house when I was about nine or so, and I kissed my little sister on the cheek, when she was playing on the bouncy rides, and this guy my age saw me do it, and he yelled to the entire park of kids that I'm a lesbian. Which of, course, made me cry.


His mom came out and scolded him, but I gave up on going to the park in the evenings, awhile after that. None of the kids liked playing with me either, and I was just too shy to ask if I could join in.

...I just realized that I've had a very messed up childhood. I even have a very early memory of when I was about two years old (babies remember certain stuff for weird reasons, sometimes...) and my mom brought my brother and I to one of the neighbor's apartments, in Singapore, to play with her two sons (they were mixed ang-mohs, that I remember too xD).

And I don't know why, but I think I did something which made them scold me, and I burst into tears, and ran to my mom crying, and I distinctly remember my mom and the aunty laughing. See, even as a two-year old, guys already made me cry. :(

OMG. Do you think I'm one of those girls who has problems with guys because of childhood trauma? :/

I just realized I have a long history of guys hurting me (there are more experiences, but I can't list them out, or this post will get even longer). Could this be why I'm so desperate for a relationship? So, for once, a guy won't hurt me but love me instead?

I guess this is why it's so tough for me to trust even the guys who are nice to me, or to realize that they're genuinely being nice (there was one guy who tried to be nice to me when I was in Form 2 but I was kind-of dumb and didn't know it). Ugh, go away stupid tears in my eyes, now.

Seriously. This never occured to me before. I always just thought I'd read too many romance novels, or watched too many movies or adult TV or something, so I was conditioned to think grown-up things.

I find it impossibly hard to believe that I'll ever find a guy who can actually love me. What guy could love someone as mentally and physically screwed up as me? I'm not worth it. Excuse me while I go drown in these tears now.

(You guys don't have to say anything, I know I'm always such a crybaby about everything.)

Saturday, May 3, 2008
2:56 AM

This is the outcome of reading, doing, eating, breathing only mathematics for about a week or so, every single day: I now see cyclic quadrilaterals forming from the diamond shapes on my bathroom's tiled-wall.

I just finished doing the chapter on probability, and now, I'm thinking that the probability of incredibly hard probability questions coming out in the exam, is very scarce, based on the questions I've been doing, which are accumulated questions on probability from all the past exams. At least, I'd be able to do the first two parts of the question with little probability of me making a mistake. See, this is what I mean!

Ok, fine. I admit it. I purposely worded that whole paragraph with the maximum amount of usage of the word probability that was allowed, just to prove a point, but I was literally thinking that way just now. Imagine what vectors and matrices will do to me, then. Actually, I don't think matrices will do much, since matrices seem pretty useless to me (eventhough, their questions are kind of hard to solve).

On the bright side, knowing that I only have about five or so more chapters of maths to analyze and decipher, helps me to stay calm. The probability that I can finish all of them by the end of this weekend is one in two. Meaning, I can either do it or don't. So, pray I can do it, or else my study time for the other three subjects is going to be put in jeopardy.

Here's some motivation for you to pray for me! If I can finish my maths fast enough, I might have some spare time to compose a new fic chapter (for those of you who read my fic, which would mean everyone). Fair deal?

Getting off the subject of exams and maths and probabilities, I bought a new book today, after much hesitation and searching through the cluttered and haphazard shelves of Borders' YA Lit. section. I only have very limited space left in my book-drawer, and I still have seven other books I intend on buying, once they hit Malaysian shores (if ever...).

15% off all full-priced English and Malay books! Not even 50%. Pshhh. My brother misheard me and got all excited because he thought he could buy his hard-cover Warrior series (it's about wild cats who have clans and legacies and wars in a forest) books, since he can't normally, thanks to hard-covers being exorbitantly-priced, and our dad being so stingy that he once bought the hard-cover for my brother, without realizing it cost so much, and once he found out it was more expensive than usual, photo-copied the book for my brother and returned it to the store for the credit.

My brother was pissed, to say the least. Even he knows that having a photocopied version, is not only stealing, but that it's not the same for someone who prizes his favorite book series, and would rather have the nicely-bound original copy, than the knock-off (of, course).

It's weird how my brother and I used to be at odds with each other all the time when we were little, and now, we're like so alike, and he's the sibling closest to me, too. I think going to art class together, taking piano lessons together, and him hating and liking the same stuff all falls into the equation, I guess. Did you all know that if he didn't ask me to get him Jenny, I'd never have started liking TC5, never have joined the boards, and we all would never have met and become friends?


It's amazing what one simple action can trigger. Keep this in mind, the next time you want to travel back in time, and rectify your past mistakes.

This blog is getting a little bland, without pictures and links, isn't it? It's all just words, words, words. Ok, if I go to the Neue Format Design Mart at +Wondermilk, this Sunday afternoon, then, maybe I might bring back some pictures or a non-academic/profound knowledge story, so you don't have to think so much.

Provided, of, course, that Lee Yee or somebody else accompanies me! (I don't want to go mingle with a crowd of college students all by myself. I could barely walk into the front lobby of KDU without fainting) I could have gone with Winnie, but she didn't know it was falling on this Sunday, so she's now off on her way to P. Redang for a weekend of sun, surf and beach.

I think I know how anorexic people feel, now. Due to my hard-core studying habits, I only eat one meal a day at night, once I'm done with my work, and chores. Sometimes, I eat a late-lunch, before that. But, once I'm done eating, I start feeling like I'm a pig and get a bit down. Eventhough, I should be eating three meals a day, and I know that only one meal is pushing it. But, I've had this dietary schedule for longer than just these past few weeks, in reality.

I haven't eaten breakfast normally since standard 4. I used to fall asleep in the afternoons after school, when I was in lower secondary, so I'd miss lunch then too. Which brings me to only eating dinner, sometimes. It's like normalcy for me now, so I guess I'm slightly paranoid that if I change that, and eat regular meals again, I'll put on weight. It's not crazy; it's common sense. I don't lose weight from eating only one or two meals a day, so I might gain weight if I add to it.

Yes, this is why I get why anorexic people find it so hard to eat, when they've gone without it for so long. Please don't call a psychiatrist or rehabilitation hospital on me, now that I've told you this, ok.


I still like eating ice-cream, potato chips, candy, cookies, cake, and all that. It's not like I'm turning completely anorexic and starving myself. Just skipping meals! Nothing to worry about. Really. Once I'm done with my exams, and Click comes and leaves, I'm sure I'll have more time to focus on my snacking, then.

I find it so funny that my music player switched to Flipside, right after Inside You. A joke you probably won't get, if you're not a TC5 enthusiast. Ok, I must tape my mouth shut, and tie my hands up now, because this post has gotten to be two million miles long, thanks to my incessantly-wandering mind wanting to write down every single thought it gets, and using superfluous words and adjectives in it's sentences. Like, right now.


Friday, May 2, 2008
Time To Tell The Truth
1:16 AM

I feel like I'm being kept from my one true love by my dad, like in all those romance movies. He doesn't support my passion at all, and it's such a big contradiction, on his part. Two years ago, he told me to go after my dreams, and to never tell myself 'no', and now he's telling me NO. My parents used to be so encouraging. Now, with my brother pursuing politics and economics and writing books, it's like... I don't know. Like, they want me to top that. Or they don't want me to do radical stuff like him.

My dad keeps putting more and more pressure on me about the exams. He keeps asking me how I'm doing, and I keep on having to lie. I feel horrible, but if I don't lie, I'll just bring unwanted attention on myself, and things will just be a whole lot more worse. Not to mention, I can't keep myself from swearing and cussing whenever something pisses me off, nowadays. Last time, I never even said the word 'shit'. Now, I say BIG words under my breath a lot, and that makes me feel even more ashamed of myself. I shouldn't be saying them, but I'm just so aggravated.

I can't write new fic chapters, or draw and paint, because I have to focus on studying, and working at maths, and feeling like an idiot everytime I do, because it just doesn't make sense to me. I literally spend the whole day staring at my maths book, and then, about an hour of piano-playing, and that's it. I feel so deprived. I want to read my books again! I want to draw portraits, and paint new pictures, and write more of my fic! And I can't. I CAN'T. It's killing me.


I tried telling my dad about my plans after the exams, and when I mentioned that the college I wanted to apply to, The One Academy near Sunway Lagoon, only needed a minimum of one 'O' Level credit for you to apply to their Art and Design Foundation program, he scoffed and said it must be a lousy school, if it had such a low standard. And it's one of the best art and design schools in Malaysia. I got so mad, that the moment he said that, I just said "Never mind." Then, he was all, "What?"

Seriously. My dad doesn't get ANYTHING. Ughhhh.

Nobody believes in me, not even my mom. And definitely not my dad. I don't know when this whole 'discourage Jayne from going to the USA' started. It's so damn irritating. Just because I say I want to go to the School of Visual Arts New York.

"New York's too dangerous."

"Go to Auckland University. It's free."

"Just New York? Why don't you think of anywhere else?"

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

I'm sick of hearing all this negativity! Why do only I believe in myself? Why do only I see my future? Why do only I think I can do it? No one has faith in me. I'm all alone. I'm tempted to swear again. Now, I know exactly how all my friends feel. This is the crappiest feeling ever.

And I'm expected to beat my elder brother's grades - 6 As 1 B. After all, I am the one who has gotten straight As in the UPSR and PMR, so why shouldn't I be able to top his 'O' Level score, when he didn't get straight As in either the UPSR or PMR? That's easy to answer.

Because I'm not a genius who can write and argue about politics and get a near-perfect SAT score, and get invited to a month-long leadership seminar in the USA because of my score. That's my brother, not me. Heck, I still have no idea how I got straight As in the UPSR or PMR! I expected to fail my PMR, thank you very much.

Now, it's like I'm forced to live up to something I don't know how I accomplished in the first place. And they expect this of me, but they don't think I'd be able to qualify for a scholarship to an art school. Crush crush crush.

I rarely like to fill my blog with rants, because I don't like writing out bad feelings and memories - I don't want to have to remember them, when they're finally over. But, I'm changing that rule now. If I can't be truthful with myself on my own blog, how can I be truthful with myself at all?

Just now, my sister was watching High School Musical, the original, and I started to feel reminiscent. It made me remember everything I used to love - school, clubs, activities. Can I ever go back now? Can I ever return? I never got to know what it'd have been like to really be involved in something. I'm hoping going to college would let me have that chance, but... it's always been in the back of my mind, that this New Zealand PR thing would come true, and then we'd leave and I'd get to go back to high school for another year, and be normal again.

But, it doesn't look like it's coming. I'm still praying, and hoping, but that faith and hope's starting to waver. I can't believe this. The one thing I always keep in mind, from the Bible, is not to worry. But I feel like, is God telling me to stop having false hope? Or does he want me to keep praying, and holding out, and believing, and to stop doubting? I don't know.

And I feel like I don't deserve to keep praying for this, because of my gutter-mouth habit lately. It just feels wrong. I wish, I wish, I wish. I tell my mom not to give up hope, but here I am, being weak, like this.

I want to live my own life, but I'll never be able to do that as long as I'm stuck here. My parents still keep tabs on my elder brother, eventhough he's already eighteen, and about to finish his freshman year. AND ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD. I, seriously, refuse to allow myself to get the same treatment when I'm his age. It's embarrassing.

Sometimes, I just get so sick of being drilled with the same crap all the time, that I just want to go against everything they've taught me since I was small, just to prove something. They think I'm going to go sleeping around with some overly-tattooed guy, and start doing drugs, if they let me out of their sight. It's ridiculous. They were NEVER this protective/strict when I was younger. Shouldn't I have more freedom, now that I'm older?

It's all because of that stupid incident, a year ago. Now, they need to know everyone's phone numbers, and they're paranoid I'll get kidnapped. Hey, if I get kidnapped, I get kidnapped. Goodbye, forget I exist. One less burden to spend money on, huh, Dad?

Before that stupid thing happened, my dad didn't give a damn who I went out with, didn't notice. Now, he wants to do all this shit. Ugh, I wish I never went out on that stupid outing, and I want to sue the creators of Death Note 2 for making it 3 HOURS LONG. Thanks to them, I now have to suffer for the rest of my life.

This all sounds incredibly harsh, but it's just the truth. I'm sick and tired of being compromising, and neutral. This is what's going on inside me, and this is what I think. No edits, no cuts. Judge me all you want. Just don't think it'll affect me one bit.