92 Dragging Footsteps

I will not let anyone walk through my mind with their 

dirty feet.  

-Gandhi

The quote above isn't really relevant to this post --and this post isn't really relevant to anything at all-- but I just found it rather meaningful and, of course, as vital a reminder as Mother Teresa's one a few posts down.

The exams --both prelims and As-- are accelerating towards me faster than I'd thought possible and I couldn't help but remember what sec 3 was like, when I'd just come back from Bangkok. Looking back, I can't remember what was so stressful about the workload, but I do remember getting panic attacks almost every morning and feeling so stressed I'd just sit and cry over the weekends. It's a terrible period I don't exactly like talking about, but I am glad I've moved on, and it just made me marvel at the fact that no matter how down I've gotten these 2 years, I have never sunk to the same level I was at in sec 3.

Perhaps it's perspective I've gotten over the four years that have lapsed. At fifteen life is a microcosm; the world is small and you hold it in your palm, liable to let it drop to the ground and crash. Any external or internal influences can cause massive destruction. And, of course, I started learning ballet that year; sometimes I wonder if it's ballet that has given me a strong inner core (figuratively, of course; my literal core couldn't be weaker) to stand still in a storm.

Nowadays I come home feeling so incredibly weak and drained. Fatigue is a better term than tired. (Speaking of which, here's an interesting, off-topic article on why weak is a different term from stupid: read more.) The worst thing is I'm not even productive most days, if you judge by my study plan, which I'm almost stubbornly not following. But even doing as little as 6 math questions in school can make me collapse onto my bed when I reach home, and the tiredness doesn't do anything for opening my mind to its demons.

Anyway, all I wanted to say is that I'm tired, and I'm searching so hard for the strength to carry on and push on. I'm searching for the little miracles, and the fact that my fatigue has thus far only led to a desire for thankfully temporary rest is a small one.

91 Dancer

we are the dancing shapes on the back of the universe’s eyelids

Quote and pictures from Tumblr

90 New Ideas

Atlantic Pacific is slowly debunking my previously staunchly held theory that peplum tops only go with fitted bottoms.

Besides this, check out her blog! She's a wonderful example of how a consistent style (in terms of favourite silhouettes and flattering colour palettes) can be reworked in a myriad of ways with the help of standout pieces. Check out the not-quite-nude peach heels above, and how she later pairs the same peplum top above with similarly pointy-toed hues in a striking lime green colour.

I'm trying to do the same with my wardrobe: I've long resigned myself to sticking to the fit-and-flare silhouette, and that navy blues and whites --though classic, sometimes boring-- suit me best; but of late I've bought pieces in a colour that's slightly off (try ice blue instead of baby blue!), or pieces with slight tweaks to the silhouette (such as lace instead of a plain swathe of fabric, or a square neckline instead of a scoop). These, paired with my favourite outfit finishers (nude heels, cream quilted bag, often either drop earrings or a statement necklace), usually put me in good stead for Sundays (a.k.a. the only day I dress up in the whole week) (woes of a student).