Money is something I would readily admit, mean nothing to me.
My ideal life doesn't concern money.

Of course with a hell of a (sometimes) loud mouth and a giant ego, I tend to say that I want a job that pays more than the average person.
It seems the money you earn measure the mass of intellect a person can have where I live.

But back to what I think, and I have many times, in a huff, screamed at my mother :
Money means nothing to me, as long as the life that I live is the life that I want to live.

Do I shout, yell like a teenager? I frankly don't know.
But now standing where I stand, I hate to admit it.
Money does matter.
Money determines the quality of life I so seeked.

When I was interning, my mother hated me.
It was a tense period in my life.
It was a major decision I stood by myself.
I quit my temporary job and I decided to intern, with a strong, (and what I thought was a) mature mantra repeating in my head.
I would rather spend my time doing what I love, unpaid (I was paid peanuts, not nothing, just FYI),
Than do what others want me to do, well paid.

I thought that the experience was something that I really wanted, something that will expand my horizons on the fashion world.
Indeed, it did. I still think I walked away with a greater eye for fabric, and silhouette, and figures.
I walked away drawing better, and being more disciplined in doing technical drawings. But so what?

After that 6 weeks internship, I went on to do other temporary work, occasionally giving tuition.
I was earning sufficiently and comfortably.
I was happy and thought than money was always somewhere to be earned although I was not given any allowance from the time I started working. I was happy and contented that unlike others I was self sufficient and able to pay for my own wants, not merely needs like travel expenses and food.
I was, happy.

But then school started, and I had no time to give tuition anymore.
I no longer had a job.
I cried because I felt the pinch of the poor

and I begged my mother to give me an allowance.
And we had a fierce argument and a fierce fight.
She repeated what I said.
That money didn't matter, why was I so upset over it.
So if it didn't matter, I'd be able to survive without it.

This whole semester was difficult. I had to scrimp discretely.
I had to lie to my mother (you know I know she knows but she pretends not to know) on money spent on school materials
so that I had money left to spend on food.
I think it was quite comfortable in this way
except the occasional times I was bothered
because I had to beg my unwilling mother for money and transport is really expensive!
I must admit though, I attempted to sustain the bad habit of purchasing a new item each week.
But they were all cheap! But that does not mean that they were justified purchases.

But these days, I'm jaded. I'm tired of the money thing.
I wished nothing required money.
I damned well wish that I didn't have friends who would tempt me.
The occasional treats and spluging on food is fine.
But the continuos urge to want to shop is killing me.
I don't want to feel a slave to the urge to buy something.
And I hate that I'm so frequently tempted because the people around me
seem to have a serious case of shopaholic tendencies. And till today I find the money thing an issue because
I'm still not given allowance.

It's one thing to be given, it's another thing to beg.
It's humiliating, even though it's family.
On good days its a mere mention of the need for money,
on others it's a tough fight and one which I lose. [Yes, with my mother you don't always win =( ]

Work is humility.
And I'm going to tell myself that continuosly when I start work this thursday,
with all eyes looking past me as I try to do what I got to do for the job.
Frankly I hate it.
But maybe the distaste can help me become a stronger person. And pay my expenses on transport and food and whatsoever.

I secretly know why my mother is doing this to me.
I know she's punishing me for the words I say so easily.
And I know that we are well to do,
and I know how much I hate it when people ask so dismissively,
why can't you just buy that which you buy?
Because they know I'm not poor but it's
so hard to explain this is a lesson and a friggin' irritating,
almost permanent stone-in-shoe situation.

And I hate to tell you this, but my mother or my father would definitely not
transfer a few thousand bucks to me because I had a bad stomachache.

Perhaps I'm being as sour as my gastric juice but nonetheless,
I know I have to pull through, and I will.

Just forget the many times I mentioned how much I detest begging
for money and having to work for money when I can imagine
how much useful things I could do
not working, (and many indulgent things as well..><)
I hate this, but it's still a dilemma. I sometimes like the punishment. =(

I am such a confused person..

The problem with beautiful people is that we get into them very soon. And in that soon disposition we lose sight of their true quality, taken away as we are, by their exterior attraction. Beauty could be a core for destruction, it is just as easy to sweep away the fast cemented attachments because it itself as a reason of attraction, is so fleeting and transient. When we start to look past the beauty, and then maybe discover the insensitivity, the ignorance, the blissful tactfulness about them towards their surroundings... we become distinctly aware how inadequate they are, and the lack in comparison to the wonder their beauty promised. Worse still, the mundaneness of their being are but the surface of their lack. When they do not develop based on the probability of their potential, and instead, become drowned in their continual mistakes, their problems plague them, and then affects the people around them. So all those who saw past the beauty and wanted to dwell in those disaster may stay and thrive, but most people are driven more likely, away, and discuss density, or some topic irrelevant and unrelated, to escape the predicament forced upon them, to save the weak. And then perhaps, we all want to inch away and move further, and further, until the drowning drowns.

Now would you choose to be boring but with immense strength or would you pick being pretty and hollow? (secretly, I still yearn to be pretty, and maybe hollow accompanies, just to experience.)

Certainly, there are many who do not comply to the above generalisation, but they are the anomalies. They are the outliers. Majority of beauty, is self destructive.

I think the implied Andy Warhol in the film is an emotional hermit. I think the implied Edie Sedgewick in the movie is an airhead. But that, again, is a generalisation.

"How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot!

The world forgetting, by the world forgot

Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!

Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd. "