.Beautiful Disaster.

It is said that each moment of our lives
We live in 2 seperate existence.
One right smack in reality, that of which we currently live in
One we perceive, that of which we live for

Or wat we make ourselves to believe.

Often times the reality we seemingly live in is in itself an 'imagined' reality
Meaning it was constructed to fit the image of our ideal.

For instance, we all have an idealised picture of what a mother is.
A mother cares, nurtures, protects and rears her children.
Her love is supposedly unconditional and deep.
Its a fact. Its biological. They just have this built in motherly instinct going.
Oh really?

I know for a simple fact there are women out there who dislike children.
There are mothers who neglect their kids.
There are mothers who allow their daughters to be sexually abused/sold/trafficked.
There are mothers who vent their anger on their children for a failed marriage.
There are those who abandon, forsake and sell their kids.

You might tell me those are a minority. But you have no statistics to prove that claim.
Then again we ask ourselves if there are so much expectations and meanings attached to the term of motherhood, it is no wonder why many working females have little or no kids.
When we try to strive for something so idealised and picture-perfect
And reality has structures that constrain and impede such ideals from materialising
We lose hope. Lose focus.
Most times we retreat altogether and escape from the ideal.
Most people forgo having kids for a reason. And it is more than just a preference.
Its an escapism of an idealised expectation.

I think i'm becoming way too critical for my own good.
The fact that i major in Sociology doesn't help one bit.
Sociology itself is a debunking discipline. A highly negative school of thought.
I might become a critic all my life, dismissing all my hoped for ideals as social fabrications.

Is that a better outlook on life?
Though it might be pessimistic, it hopes for less, accepts the cruelty of the world, rejects those dreams concocted upon dreams themselves.

Or perhaps i should seek some sorta balance in life.
On one hand i vehemently refuse to be that ignorant, dreamy, unrealistic ditzy gal lulling over intangible dreams.
No longer am i waiting for a prince charming on a white stead to come agalloping and carry me off away to some enchanting paradise.
I sweat it out almost every single day on the train at peak hours with a handful of foriegn workers, dull businessmen in ugly ties and suits, ah peks and goofy nerds in sch uni that i know and am sure of i know that ideal is never gonna happen in a.thousand.years.

On the other hand as i'm wise-ing up i can't seem to let those childlike ideals ive held and believed so dearly vanish.
Some part of me still hopes those visions can really be achievable
Some part of me is still hopeful, still overly ambitious
Some part of me still thinks that prince charmin *might* come

Though not necesarily in a white stead.
Heck as long as he looks vaguely like that guy in the Fairy tale books i read since i was five.
He can come bump onto me in the trains during peak hour ANYTIME.

Til then i'm a snubby critic.
And only people with a PURRFECT life can come try knocking some ole' sense into me.

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Some pics taken during CNY:(cos i keep to my promises!)

Tessa & cousin Ethan, aka Jing tong yu ni of e day

Cousin Amber

Her again. She's extremely photogenic.

Beloved grams!=D

Moi parents(who look really stern) plus aunt & uncle Ling.

In case u're wondering why i didn't any photos of me, tats cos i was sick(and still am) all throughout new year so i look dreadfully pale. Hence no photos! =p