"I am honestly just at that point of giving up. I've edited my resume for the nth time and I have had no response from any of the nth companies I've applied for so far except for one that was so gracious enough to say that my application has been declined."

Sounds familiar?

/my 30-hour stippling drawing of a stag back in 2nd year diploma

You're probably not the only one having the same issues. More or less, mostly everyone who is graduating or has graduated recently is going through the same exact emotions and thought process — rage, anger, denial, doubt, fits of murderous tendencies — you know, the norms. However, it can become self-denigrating to continuously experience rejection after rejection. It's as if the world has turned its back on you at the moment you need it the most.

I've been there. In fact, I'm still there.

As a graduating Graphic Design student, it's nerve-wracking to imagine the world outside of the four corners of the campus. The lecturers have been the kind of clients you could only ever imagine in the dream world and being confronted with the reality that your designs are probably not as good as you hoped they would be is even more damaging.

/my approach to our infographic timeline assessment in the history of design

Let's not mention that the reputation you have in school will probably carry you during the first few years of your job search. This particular reality haunted me.

I have to be honest. I haven't been the best at keeping my attendance perfect for the last three semesters. From a growing financial struggle to a seething depression, it wasn't easy to focus on anything. Add up the death of my grandmother who was like a mother to me, I haven't really been able to bounce back into full gear. I want to, but I just haven't really been able to.

/my tropical-inspired watercolour painting

I'm not saying that I'm not okay. I'd like to think that I'm still in a much better situation than a majority of people around the world — and while I have read somewhere that everyone's battle will always be different and that you shouldn't be comparing your own demons with someone else's, I also would like to think that everything in our lives happen because we have to learn something from it.

This is one of those lessons.

/my original illustration based on resilience and growing a pair

It is here to remind us that you shouldn't be counting the steps if you know where you are going — you just have to know that you are moving forward.

It's not gonna be easy and who are we to say that it's gonna be worth it once you get it, but here's the thing, you are doing this for a reason. You are pushing yourself to send a hundred applications within two hours every single day for a good reason.

So, don't stop now. Who knows what will happen tomorrow?

Keep pushing forward.

Last Friday, I had the misfortune of being visited by a few old friends — fever and migraine. It was such an unexpected visit that I couldn’t help, but be hard on myself for catching it. I started blaming myself for not drinking enough water or maybe, I don’t have enough vitamins in my body. I started tracing back my steps and figuring out the reason why I got sick in the first place. I couldn’t accept the fact that I was sick and that it happens so I should just get over it.

My head started running as to what the repercussions might be for skipping my classes and calling in a sickie for work — again because I had severe dysmenorrhea last Saturday and I had to attend a house open last Friday as well. It wasn’t like I wanted the fever and migraine, but I felt so responsible for catching it that it occupied most of my brain activity and started affecting my self-esteem.



I thought that this would greatly affect my ability to perform well in class and that I am wasting time by being sick. I managed to conjure up different stories as to why I do not deserve certain help because I shouldn’t even be sick in the first place. I was relentless. It got so damaging to a point that I felt so ashamed about taking a day off to look after my health.

At times like this, it can be very difficult to get back up and just move on. You can be easily side-tracked by what the rest of the world might think of you and what this decision might reflect on your overall image. The thing is, when you’re sick, you shouldn’t be worrying about all of that. You should only be worrying about one thing — yourself.

It was hard having to remind myself that it’s okay — that we’re allowed to breathe sometimes so that we can push harder the next day. It was hard having to tell myself that you need a rest and your migraine won’t go away no matter how much you tell it to go.  Your fever is simply your body’s way of communicating that you need to hit pause.

You’re not giving up. You’re just reloading your ammo. Give it time. You only have today.



PRIORITISE YOU.

Finding yourself is never an easy thing to do. It is a constant battle with yourself as to what you want to do with your life and what is the purpose of your existence. Whether you ask yourself these questions on a regular basis, it is a topic that comes up from time to time. Recently, however, it is a subject matter that has been a constant loop in my mind. Questions like "how do you really find yourself?" and "what is my true passion?" would come up more than I'd like to admit or address. If you're one of the lucky ones who have figured out what they want to do for the rest of their lives, then good for you. You don't need to be reading this entry. Run along now and do your thing.


But for those who are still looking, welcome to a mind that is just like yours. It may be because you grew up witnessing a few more possibilities than you could care to imagine or it could be an environment wherein you are limited to a few opportunities which then rendered you indecisive in the process. Whichever it is, you ended up not realising what your true passion is and you always find yourself doing one thing after another, while constantly waking up to the same question every single day.

I still haven't found my "one true passion". I'm not sure if I actually will, but I'm not losing hope. For now, I think I'm meant to just continue living life and exploring as much as I would like to know about the world and how I can make the world a better place for being what I am and continually changing in the process.

Right now, I'm studying Graphic Design and I love every bit of it. There are days like today wherein my migraines paired with my lack of motivation would prevent me from coming to class, but that doesn't mean I'm not doing the work. I still do it. I still research about Graphic Design, how I can improve my creativity, how I can be more influential and things that would make a Graphic Designer incredible. My heart is still in it.



Then there are days when I would dabble in music and poetry and ask myself how easy it is to just do this instead. I would write songs after songs for hours on end and sometimes, even finish a piece in a matter of 15 to 30 minutes. And yes, I am working on these things too. I am working on how to become a better songwriter and poet. I watch Spoken Words on YouTube, drown myself with the voices of Sarah Kay and Neil Hilborn, and read countless heartbreaking articles just to understand the workings of the mind and how fickle it can be. Because it is fickle.

A few years ago, these things are not even in my horizon. Yes, I would sing a few originals in a pub when the opportunity presents itself or I would create an illustration piece for a beloved on special occasions, but never was it a definite path. And yet, today, here we are.

So, who knows about tomorrow?


At this very moment, one thing is clear. You are reading this. And if you are reading this, then there's a good chance that you are looking for motivation, a glimmer of hope, an inspiration. Maybe, this article helped you see that you are not alone. Maybe, it taught you to just go with the flow. Maybe, you slowly found yourself towards the end. I don't know. But you are here, right now. So, live. Forget yesterday. Forget the possibility of tomorrow. Live here. Now. Notice your breathing. Notice what's around you. Look at the sky. Gaze at the stars. Listen to the noise. Listen to the silence. Listen to yourself.

What's it telling you now?

And we're back to where we first started- beaten, broken and broke. How appropriate! Now, don't get me wrong. This is not a depressing story, just an entry. I don't really want to complain about my life because if I were to compare it to everyone else's, I'd say I'd still pick this one. It's just so hard to see where it is going at this rate, to be honest.


Before I came to Perth, I was broke. I barely had enough money to survive. I was living with my lovely mother and her partner so I pretty much had a good life - free rent and free food with no bills to pay and a 24/7 top class care by the most incredible being on earth who will always love you no matter what. All I had to worry about were my own trivial petty desires. It was a pretty good life.


Everything turned upside down when I left for Perth. All of a sudden, I owe a ginormous amount of money beyond my wildest dreams and there I was, thinking to myself that if I avoided credit cards, I won't be buried in debt. Right! Apparently, financial literacy was and still is not my strong point.


Heading to Perth was like jumping off a cliff without knowing if the water is 50-feet deep or half-a-meter high, but you'll jump regardless. You'll jump because of the thrill, the adrenaline, and the high. Sometimes, though, we forget about the pain, the scratches, the bruises and the loss of breath in the process. That before you experience the peak, you have to go through the low.


That low translated itself phenomenally in a form of a backpack. I bought my backpack on a sale rack one lazy afternoon about a year ago. It gave up after a few months, but I still believed in it so much that I fixed it up - best I could, and went on to use it for the next following months. However, it still surprised me when it has finally handed in its resignation. I couldn't believe it. It's done. It won't take anything more. There's definitely no fixing this one and that's okay. It was okay.


Somehow, this struck a chord with me. It reminded me of how you can always stop and let go, even if it's hard. You may even be heartbroken in the process, but you will always come out strong. Before I came to Perth, I was broke. Now, I am still broke, but I am rich in experiences I never would have imagined if I didn't come here. And that is what made this whole journey worth it.

So yes, I am broke. I am bruised and I am definitely bagless- at least for a moment. But that won't stop me from moving forward, because really, why the fuck won't you? You've got nothing left to lose.

As I am writing this, I'm still at the stage of procrastination. My bags are still full and I have unpacked nothing, but a few everyday devices which I would need to survive this weekend. In case you're wondering why I need to survive, I moved to a different house last Friday (6th of January), and I finally have my own room. It has its perks, of course, but I do miss the noise, the crazy, the hugs and the amazing people I always look forward to seeing after a long day at work. After all, these are the people I lived with for almost a year. How can you not miss them? So like my normally crazy self would do, I decided to drop by the house after work so as to say my proper goodbyes and to take my bicycle with me to the new place. After about an hour of inappropriate normal conversation, I decided to say my goodbyes and take my bike for a spin, because why not? We can do this.

Boy, was I wrong!?

Obviously, since my phone died throughout this whole trip, I don't have any photos to use as proof at all. Hopefully, you can enjoy the view of Fremantle instead. It is not anywhere near where I live, but I still think it's a pretty awesome place. Plus, I got a ton of stock photos of Freo so might as well put it to good use. Right?

Not only did my phone's battery die in the midst of the ride, I ended up going around the same street three times which was surprising because I never knew that my navigation skill was that bad until it was staring me right in the face. It was like, what!? Do you believe me now?

Moving forward, halfway through the ride, I just had no idea how to get to my new house. My phone was dead, the sun has set, the moon was taking over and I do not have lights - at all, in any form. Since my back was starting to ache, my legs were getting sore and the unknown territory started looking like a foreign land filled with fast cars and dead bikers, I decided to ask a passerby who was crossing the road I am obviously stuck in. He stopped, gave me the biggest smile and then proceeded to tell me that he had no idea where the street I need to be is. We shall now rejoice! I am officially lost.



Remember that time when I told you that getting lost helps us find ourselves? This was not it.

So upon passing by what seemed like a gigantic park, I decided to ask if I am still going in the right direction because yes, I just kept going after being told by the first stranger that he had no idea where I am or if I am even on the right path. Luckily, the hanging man - the man was hanging upside down on some monkey bars at the park (No, I don't know the answer why. I didn't bother asking him. I was too busy looking nice so they would actually believe that I'm lost and not an Asian-looking thug who is about to go machine-gun bruce-lee on them)

- knew where we were. The man confirmed that I was in the right direction and that, all I needed to do was to keep going. So I did! And boy, that hill was not easy! He could've warned me about the steep slope, but no... And the ride down seemed like a roller-coaster accident waiting to go bazooka on me as well. The man told me of a landmark I should keep my eyes open for, but it's either it went hollow man on me or my eyes were not as good as it used to be. By the time I realized where I am, I knew that I am in an entirely different part of town.

Pulling off the sweetest face I could muster, I asked a couple if they knew the place I was headed. The woman, Evelyn, started telling me which way to go and which paths are safer for cycling. Her partner, Patrick, proceeded to suggest alternative routes as well. Being the amateur that I am, they must have read on my face that I had no idea what they were talking about since they decided to drop me off instead. I was struck!



Evelyn asked me where I was off to and when she realized that we were headed the same way, she didn't even think twice. She just up and asked me if I wanted a lift. It was getting dark and the streets were about to get nasty and probably slightly obscene, so you can't really blame me for accepting the offer. Plus, would I miss a chance in getting to know strangers? YES!

This was a different situation.

Evelyn was pretty casual. She asked me where I lived and what I have been up to- basic stuff. Patrick kept quiet all the while. We were walking to where they parked their car when she made a remark about how adorable my bicycle looked. Around this time, two police officers ran around and in between us to get to their car while balancing their cup of coffees. It was funny to see how Evelyn noted that despite the "emergency", these two police officers still made sure that their coffee will make it to the car in one-piece. I naturally responded by noting that they even took a sip before starting up the car to which she laughed so graciously.



Moving on, we arrived at where they parked their car and Patrick helped put my bike in the trunk. Actually, I didn't do anything so he technically did it all by himself. Evelyn told me to hop in and we were on our way. During the ride, Evelyn asked about my whereabouts and I asked her about her travels as she has mentioned it during our walk. Afterward, she talked about how she's lived in the area for ages, so she knows it like the back of her hand. She also shared some facts about herself and where her partner came from (he's a Kiwi- we're not referring to a fruit, people).

By this time, I just went speechless. They trusted me- a stranger. I wanted to know more about this couple, but I couldn't believe the kindness they have done to me that I was left flabbergasted. My brain refused to function. I don't even know if they have a kid or if they live nearby. I don't know anything at all- what they do or what they don't do. All I know is that they bought about four to six boxes of cereal and they ate at Pinto's that night (if I even spelled that correctly). Next thing you know, we were a few steps away from my place. I didn't know how to thank them so I just wrote this story instead. Because how often will you find a stranger help you at your time of need? Most of all, how often will you have a stranger extend their hand in ways that you can't even imagine? It's a rare quality and I'm glad I stumbled upon it.



So yes, I didn't find myself this time around. I found something even more beautiful. I found kindness and selflessness in ways that you can only expect from the movies. It was a first-hand experience of how incredible people can be if we give them a chance. So, take chances! Risk getting hurt. You can't say that you've lived if you've never been hurt. Society can be harsh, but it's moments like this that make us remember why living is worth it.

To Evelyn and Patrick, thank you so much for your help. You may not ever see this, but I hope that you know that a stranger is thankful to have stumbled upon your kind hearts. I wish you a remarkable and an unforgettable adventure, wherever life takes you.

Again, thank you!

And to you guys, cheers! Let's make 2017 a great one. Always.

This was a poem I wrote during my first semester of Certificate IV in Graphic Design. It was supposed to be a stop-motion photography, but I just can't help myself. The poem goes well with the concept so the only logical thing to do was to incorporate it with the final product. Hopefully, I did it with some justice. What do you think?

Until next time...

I have never imagined how much work goes into making a booklet or a brochure. Being always surrounded by magazines and leaflets- seeing that it is somewhat my obsession to hoard random booklets from everywhere, it has never occurred to me how every single detail in it has been carefully thought out to the point of insanity. Everything, in a sense, is made up of formulas or calibrated to a certain degree in order to look visually appealing. But despite its laborious tediousness, I love it. The roller-coaster of making a spread, creating and trashing concepts while witnessing the deadline crash on you by the minute is such an exhilarating ride that I am having a hard time to accept that it's over. However, I must admit that seeing the final result has brought a sense of pride in me. I mean, after all, I did it. I DID THIS.


The idea of the contents page literally jumped out of my mind and into the paper (computer, in this case). It was an idea that didn't even brush my thoughts until the very last minute. It was a spur of the moment creation in which I am incredibly proud of, to be honest. You can even say it's my favorite page of all, but that's being biased considering that they are all my babies. Yes, I treat them like my children (not that I have one nor do I want one, for the love of all that is holy! Bite me.). How can you not? You've poured your heart and soul into making this concept a reality. The least you can do is be proud of how it turned out to be!

And I am.

The CMYK concept made the design dynamic visually pleasing, but coherent. Although, it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows when it comes to playing with this theme. Too much of it can make the design look tacky and unappealing while using less of it can reflect an imbalance throughout the whole design. I can't even keep count on how many times I've gotten to finishing a design concept, only to throw it away because of an off-element or because it doesn't look put together.

We never really truly had our time together. We've never done our nails together. We've never had a sleepover. We've never picked clothes for each other. We've never had coffee together. We've never borrowed anything from each other. We've never even met again after that night of crazy fun in Boracay. Most of all, we don't even know each other's birthday without looking at our Facebook bio. Let's not mention the fact that we don't even have a proper picture together! How crazy is that?
But with this growing friendship that we have, you and I have proven the most important thing a relationship should have- honesty and vulnerability. We were never scared of being vulnerable with each other. You were never shy about your incessant need to pose during video call conversations and summoning your inner Sasha Fierce despite the low-resolution screen hindering the proper rendering of your epic make-up skills on top of a really bad lighting, and I was never scared of letting my bladder run lose as I talk to you nonstop while I do my business in the bathroom. It may seem trivial at that moment, but those were just as much as who we are as we let society assume in us. We trusted the fact that despite our own insane and probably abnormal antics, this person will still accept us, and you did. You accepted my inability to dig my own grave so you brought it upon yourself to do so and remind me that sometimes, I need to break myself just to piece myself together again. You accepted my shortcomings and how my head doesn't work with my heart sometimes and that I truly need a good bashing before being able to get back up. You accepted a part of me that I never even knew existed and for that, I thank you. Most of all, thank you so much for denying me the chance to crash when all I can think about is staying broken. Thank you.
Thank you so much.
Thank you for existing.
I say this to people I truly value, and I am just happy that you, YOU, exist and that you still choose to exist in my life.
Thank you for trusting me with all your worries, pain and your deepest and darkest secrets (CHOS!) and thank you for knowing that you will always be in my life as you are in mine. Thank you for the late night conversations and the non-stop chikka on the phone. Thank you for the heartfelt advises and tough love. Thank you for the virtual push and pull every time it is warranted. Thank you for the corny cheesy jokes, the unexpected make-up tips and tutorials and thank you for always having faith in our friendship. Ultimately, thank you for believing that we will always find our way back to each other despite the distance that prevented us from doing all the things I've mentioned at the beginning of this letter. Thank you so much.
And if I haven't emphasized it enough, thank you. And really, I couldn't wish anything more for you, but to be just who you are meant to be. You have the whole world at your fingertips so believe in yourself as much as we believe in you. You are an incredible human being and don't you ever forget that. You are lovely, strong and don't ever deny yourself the chance to see what we see in you. I guess, what I'm trying to say and hope and probably wish, is for you to see the beauty we've always witnessed in you. Because YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL, YNNAH. And this year is just another proof that the world is not ready to lose a stunning gem like you, so keep shining and don't you ever stop.
I love you so much - NO HOMO.

Now first, let me apologize for not being able to show proof of my brave escapade. My battery died during the most crucial turning point of my life, and all I can do now is describe the experience as much as I can to you. And while this may be a bad thing, I can't help but think that no picture will ever be able to make you understand the feeling as much as I can tell you. Or it could be that I'm just trying to make the best out of the current situation.

My stopover before the big step to the moon (not really to the moon, but it felt like it!)

Okay. So a few weeks ago last year, I failed to stick to a plan I've been carefully mapping out for weeks which left me feeling devastated and quite disappointed with myself. While I'd like to say that this year it's gonna be different, I'm not really sure. I can't say that it was fueled by a New Year's Resolution either as I did not exactly have any New Year's resolution this year (I know! Shocking, right?). But going back to the story, it was mostly fueled by my curiosity and my refusal to disappoint myself again. But I'm telling you, it did not start off great.
It happened quickly, actually. It was more like a spontaneous decision than a planned-out one. I was heading home when I realized that there's an event happening at the same place I initially wanted to go to in which I didn't. So, I began going back and forth, and weighing the pros and cons if I did go. I kept pacing around the city- fidgeting, staring blankly at the sky and then walking aimlessly from left to right and vice versa. In one word, I was frantic. It terrified me. The idea terrified me. And there was the constant battle of WhatIfs and Maybes on both sides of the equation.
My mind was going crazy. I felt like crying because I didn't know what to choose. Should I go for it or not? Should I miss out on it again, knowing that I might just feel the same thing I've felt last time? Will I actually be able to forgive myself when I have deliberately set myself up for the fall?
At the end of the day, I knew that the answers to my questions is a big NO. I refuse to back down. I refuse to set myself up for another disappointment when I can prevent it from happening. I refuse to be consumed by my fears and the frightening possibilities created by my own imagination. Most of all, I simply refuse to do the same thing twice.
I already knew the aftermath of my first decision, so why do it again when I wasn't happy with how it turned out the first time? This was what fueled me to push through and dive in headfirst. I did not care anymore. I just told myself to enjoy the ride.
So as I walk to the train station, I can feel the anticipation in me swelling up like vomit. I know it's the worst metaphor I can ever think of, but that's exactly how I felt that time. I was so excited that I wanted to throw up. I did everything I can to delay it. I walked slower, made a few stopovers and even found myself making up excuses.
As I approach the entrance, my head and heart was preparing for battle- against each other. It didn't help that I needed to go to the loo (toilet) either.
But I guess, I would have to thank my bladder for giving me the nudge I needed to just go in there and say 'Fuck it!'. And since I had to go to the loo, and there's no other place to go to, I went in and immediately asked the staff where the nearest bathroom is and if they have food. When I was rehearsing the words in my head, I found the inquiry funny- hilarious, even. I suppose it was somewhat rude though since the staff did not even show nor hint a single stifle (Oops!). Or it could just be that I don't have a sense of humor at all... Let's go with the rude delivery instead.
After the trip to the loo, I felt at ease. I was shy at first, but I found myself enjoying the atmosphere. Most of all, I felt proud. I felt proud of myself for pushing myself out of my comfort zone. I felt proud because I made a decision to step forward- no matter how little or trivial or petty it was. Most of all, I felt happy. I felt happy because I took control- not of life, not of the situation, not of others, but of myself. And for a moment there, I felt invincible.

Do you know that feeling when you've decided days before that you're gonna do something, but when it's time to actually do it, you end up second guessing yourself and eventually turning the other way? Nope? Just me? Great.

With all seriousness here, I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one feeling this way, and I'm over a hundred percent certain that most of us have been in this situation one way or another. But in hindsight, it's not the fact that I chickened out that disappointed me the most, it's the regret you feel afterwards. It's that constant question you have at the back of your mind asking you 'why not?' and that follow up statement saying 'What Ifs' and 'Maybe You Could'ves'. It's that feeling that you did something wrong, and that your gut is telling you that you made the wrong decision. That somehow, doing it would make everything worthwhile even if it terrified you immensely.

Most of all, it's the limitless possibilities that could've happened and opened up only if you did what you initially intended to do. It's that feeling of missing an opportunity, no matter how small, just because you happen to lose your balls at the most crucial moment of your life.

I say it's crucial because you've actually decided to do something different. You have taken charge and made a choice to step out of your everyday routine and do something out of your comfort zone- no matter how trivial or petty it may seem. And in life, that's all you can ever really do, right? Being brave.

Because by being brave, you teach yourself that the only thing you can be comfortable with is your own thick skin and your sharp wit. Everything else is unpredictable and all you can ever really do is to be brave enough to face the music even if you have to dance alone with your two left feet.

Hopefully next time, I can muster up enough courage to take on the world no matter how much it frightens me. Knowing that if I didn't do it, I would probably regret it right away - while reminding myself that if I did do it, and the golden opportunity turned out to be a gold-plated piece of metal, the important thing is that I tried. I conquered my fears, stuck with my balls, grew another pair and was like "Hell yeah, I did it! What's next?".