Life Updates

It’s been so long since I last posted! 2 months, at least (I’m referring to the public posts)? I’ve completed my first term of study in university and just began my second term on Monday. Time truly flies. Alhamdulillah, for the most part, I enjoy school. I complain about assignments/ teachers/ etc from time to time, but my dissatisfaction is often short-lived. I have no major complaints about school, and I do not wish to act on my trivial displeasures because I chose to go to school, and Allah fulfilled my wishes. I will be grateful and will do my best in my power to achieve my best. Alhamdulillah, so far, my efforts have paid off, but I will remind myself, continuously, that grades are not everything.

Also, yesterday was the second time I listened to Ustazah Liyana’s live discussion on Instagram, and I must say, I truly, absolutely love her. She’s so lovely and extremely down to earth, she’s extremely raw, she’s not afraid of sharing her flaws, she discusses somewhat ‘taboo’ topics in Islam – for instance, love, which she mentioned is a topic she adores talking about, and, for lack of a better term, she stoops to our level, which makes me see her as a friend and fellow human who understands, more than a teacher, who, more often than not, come off as superior. I’m going to keep watching her live videos and perhaps, even watch her discussions in person.

Actually, I came to WordPress for a different reason. My skin condition has been taking a toll on my emotional well-being, and try as I might to be accepting of it, it really isn’t easy. I’m not going to go into the whole pep talk on beauty because I’ve done it before. And while I do not care for a moment about the external appearance of other people and see beauty in everyone, because surely, everyone is beautiful in their own way, I cannot say the same for myself. Indeed, we are our own worst critic. But the worst part for me is that the effort invested into controlling/curing it doesn’t seem to pay off.  I took antibiotics for about two years (on and off), I use different facial washes, apply different sorts of creams and gels, but none seem to be working and they’re burning a hole in my parents’ pockets, which, really, is so sad. What’s worse is my sister and younger brother also have problematic skin. Treatment and medication for skin conditions are EXPENSIVE. Anyway, I’ve finally stopped taking antibiotics and just today was prescribed isotretinoin, which is a ‘higher level’ acne medication. In a sense, it’s riskier than antibiotics but I’m willing to risk it because antibiotics aren’t working anymore. Acne is painful and acne bloody sucks, but I have to remember that acne – the fact that I have acne – was willed by Allah. And Allah is my creator. So I will trust Him.

Yesterday, my mother told me that my father said we (as in my sister and I), must inform our potential spouses, whoever they may be, of our skin condition and let them decide whether they want to go ahead with getting to know us (i.e. eventually marrying). When I heard that I felt so criticised because, at that moment, I thought, “Oh, so if we have acne, it makes us less worthy of love?”. But I know how acne is like any other diseases – diabetes, eczema, pneumonia, what have you. I understand that. But I want to know, do we actually need to let other people know if we have some type of disease, whatever they may be? Is it only fair that we do that? I’m not saying we have to keep them in the dark, because honestly, I would let other people know, but I would say it as a fact, because it is a fact about me, much like telling others I love to cook, I’m studying Social Work, so on and so forth. At the same time, I can understand why my parents would say that because, for one, I surely do not want my child to experience the skin conditions I’m experiencing. I know how sad, how frustrating, how emotionally painful it can be. And at the same time, I feel like it isn’t fair because I want to get married and I want to have children. I don’t know, perhaps it’s due to the way I’m brought up? You have to understand that I am prone to all sorts of skin conditions, not just acne. I also have eczema and I’m prone to allergies. Please help ): Let me know what you think.

Lots of love,


SUSS OBS Team-Building Camp

The camp is finally over. Done and dusted.

I wasn’t very excited for it, nor was I reluctant. The only thing that made me slightly apprehensive was the fact that I had to be around new people (and something else, which I’m not courageous enough to share). When my group first met during the induction, we were extremely awkward. None of us are exceptionally loud or extroverted, so there wasn’t a member who managed to hype up the group. Our student buddy wasn’t very loud either and slightly awkward too (not that it was a problem because I’m sure he did his best).

On hindsight, however, I think I’m quite lucky because firstly, I’m introverted and I cannot handle extremely loud people. Secondly, although as individuals none of us exactly stood out, as a team, I think we’re pretty impressive because we complemented each other with our individual strengths.

It was a 3 day 2 night camp, with the first day mostly comprising of talks and team-building activities. The service learning talk which I initially dreaded turned out to be pretty interesting. The content suited my interests and I learned quite a bit too. I even braved myself to speak up! Undoubtedly, it’s easier because it’s a small team, but it was still something that required some mustering of courage. I realise, though, that whenever I speak in front of a crowd (small or large), my voice and perhaps face and/or hands (if I’m holding something) giveaway my nervousness. My voice tend to tremble and with all eyes on me, my face will flush. It’s a physiological response I have no control over 😦

For the day 2 expedition, 3 groups, including mine, were assigned rowboat. The whole journey from our campsite (Pulau Ubin OBS Camp 1) to a forested area (where Kekek Quarry is) roughly 15 kilometers away took about 6-7 hours. As someone who works out and is able to do pushups, I shamelessly thought that it wouldn’t be too difficult for me. I was so ready to deal with it head on because I am a strong, independent woman (not a braggart – I am just proud of being strong!!). But, boy, was I wrong. The journey was gruelling. Truly. The paddle is heavy, the tide was against us (for the first ~10km), and the weather was BLOODY BRUTAL. We felt the strenuousness even when we barely started! But, we pushed on and persevered and it felt excellent. Then, the blazing sun emerged and fatigue crept up on us, and somewhere after the halfway mark, I desperately felt like giving up. I was close to crying because I was so, extremely exhausted. My arms were aching, my back hurt and it became difficult to keep up with the pace of paddling. There were several stronger boats ahead of us (we were initially the first few boats) and we were lagging but I no longer cared about being last (not that I cared about being the first few, but being last can be pressurizing). I stopped paddling several times when the rest of my team members continued and I began wishing that the 15 kilometers was a joke the instructors played on us because at that point, it genuinely felt like an impossible task. But when I saw my team members soldiering on (especially my new friends, Faiz, Nadine and Jun Wei) AND keep up with the chanting (to ensure we were synchronizing), I realised that I can’t be the only one exhausted. They must be too – of course, because we were going through the same thing. This might sound really deep but it was their determination and tenacity that truly motivated me to go on because we were in it together and I didn’t want to let them down.

In the end, we made it and it could not be more fitting that the night before, our professor shared with us this quote:

“It always seems impossible until it’s done.” – Nelson Mandela

Yes, I was listening quite attentively to his long-ass life story (even with my eyes closed) and thoroughly enjoyed it despite it being rather untimely because it was pretty darn inspiring. There were several good quotes shared but this quote moved me the most.

Needless to say, the expedition and night spent at the forested, no-toilet area was the highlight of the whole camp because those activities are the ones that truly tested our determination and assessed our group’s ability to work together. After all, I think we would all agree that we learn more from our tough times than good times. The talking/ bonding session my group had that night was also a highlight for me because as someone who has trouble opening up to new people, I genuinely felt comfort and joy in their presence.

Another highlight for me was the bonding session we had with our second instructor (our first instructor left early on day 3 because his engagement was on that day). Our group wrote comforting messages for each other, shared our favourite moment during the camp and our takeaway, and wrote a letter to ourselves. The latter 2 had to be returned to him, and will make their way back to us one day via mail, when we least expect it. Like a time capsule. Interesting, huh?

Alas, though I enjoyed the camp for the most part, I disliked the fact that we had to pee in the nature without proper toilet facilities. I can be outdoorsy and adventurous if I have to, but the whole peeing in the forest thing is not my thing at all, sorry. 😦 I also wish we were given the opportunity to spend more time with our OBS instructors and student buddy because we were barely able to do that properly. And the last event (superhero/mascot thing) was pretty lame and rushed. But okay, whatever, I guess.

I never thought I’d say this and I don’t care if it’s cliché because I really will miss the time I spent with my group members during the camp and nothing would be more apt than ending off this post by sharing a few good photos of my new friends.

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Lastly, here is a beautiful view of the morning we set off for our campsite on day 3. Taken by our resident photographer, Jun Wei 😛

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Love, Amelia

Ps I’m sorry friends I got mad on day 3!! I am extremely expressive. It shows when I’m happy, excited, sad, scared, nervous so when I’m angry, it will most definitely show too… I musn’t use it as an excuse, though, I know.






I meant to just leave this as a mini rant on Twitter but I felt like this needed a post on its own. I am absurd when it comes to talking to guys in real life. Whatever the circumstances. I’m not even talking about the non-platonic kind. I cannot look at males in the eye for longer than 2 seconds. It’s exasperating. I know lowering the gaze is a thing in Islam (and a good thing, for that matter), but I am utterly ridiculous because whether or not I am making eye contact with the person, when it comes to talking to males, I’m a blundering mess. It gets very distracting, which makes it awkward for the other person too. Just the other day I was at SUSS’s induction and my student buddy (i.e. facilitator), who’s a male sophomore, wanted to break the ice and strike a conversation with me and I couldn’t, for the life of me, have a proper conversation with him.

I thought I was getting better at talking to males because I was able to text quite comfortably with a male group mate who reached out to me via email (I usually get anxious even online). It felt great. Then, I met him during the induction and I became an awkward mess.

Honestly, I’m generally just shy and awkward. That afternoon, I was gathered with my OBS group and we had to introduce ourselves – it wasn’t much; we were asked to share our name, the school we were from and our passion/hobby. Something so simple as that was enough to make me feel extremely anxious. That wasn’t all. During an ice-breaker activity, I had to do a forfeit because I messed up but because I was so immensely awkward, something that was supposed to be light-hearted and humorous became so dull.

Truthfully, I feel so boring around people. It’s a horrible feeling because I’m not actually boring (hah). Don’t know if I’m being too hard on myself – perhaps I don’t actually seem that awkward, which can be perceived as a good thing to some, but the fact that I feel anxious ALL THE TIME around large groups of people drives me bonkers.

But I know that aside from my preordained shyness, I need to let loose. I have some insecurities that are hindering my ability to be comfortable around people. This whole insecurity thing is bloody toxic, I tell ya. I need to gain a bit of confidence (read: A HELLA LOT) and stop letting my insecurities hold me back. 😥

Edit: So I read this blogpost that talks about the reasons why some people are shy. It’s not exactly scientific or anything but the author truly spoke my feelings for me. There it is; the underlying reason for most people’s shyness – our insecurities. The vile devil that eats at our confidence. And okay, I guess it’s true that shyness can be situational. However, I’m still convinced that overall, I am shy (and introverted) (such an unfortunate combination).

Love, Amelia

Thoughts: Beauty Work

Hello, again.

So I was just thinking.

Physical alterations to the body has become so rampant that people are now finding it acceptable to do so. Before I delve deeper, makeup is not included because makeup does not provide permanent changes.

I find it so bloody scary that SO many people are doing it.

For instance, in Asia, as it has been since centuries ago, having fairer skin equals to greater beauty. We are hard-wired to automatically view fairer individuals as being more beautiful. Heck, I used to think that until I learned to accept that the world IS made of this whole variety of skin colours, and all of them are equally beautiful. If it isn’t confirmation enough, look at just HOW many Asians who’ve become fairer (and pinkier – you know?) on Instagram. Honestly. Nearly all of the most famous female Asian public figures on Instagram are fair. Celebrities are getting fairer. So many cosmetic products that claims to whiten the skin are being circulated, and so many people are endorsing them. Celebrities are even coming up with their own product that whitens, and that appeals to SO many individuals. Why? Why do people go crazy about wanting to be fair? God has created so many beautiful skin colours – why do we want to change that so bad? Isn’t it boring? Nearly every popular person looks the same now (I’m mostly talking about Malaysians (honestly, no offence) because they literally flood my feed). Previously, each time they pop up on my feed, my initial reaction would be to ogle at them – “wow, she’s so fair”, “her skin looks beautiful”, “she’s so beautiful” – but ogling after ogling had me ‘shook’ (as they say it), because so many people are looking like that nowadays. So boring. Colours are fun! Afterall, it is how the world is made. Shouldn’t we embrace that?

But, of course, that’s not all. I find that so many people are becoming more physically beautiful in recent years. Now, I don’t doubt that there are naturally beautiful individuals. At the same time, I learnt that so many people have undergone cosmetic alterations. Hollywood celebrities, Korean celebrities, public figures on Instagram from all over the freaking world, you name it. I know because most of them are not being silent about the work that had been done, and even if they are, it’s pretty damn obvious. Because it has become so rife, people are no longer ashamed of sharing it to the world. But it got me thinking. How bloody scary is it that people are okay with permanently changing the look that God has given them? They change how they look, and then take credit for it. I feel silly for constantly admiring people whose looks aren’t even real. Honestly. I think the human race is already pretty f-ed up. Our ideas of beauty are very distorted (as much as we try to change that, those ideals are going to linger) and the fact that so many people are adjusting how they truly look is just so frightening. And it’s sad that so many young people, especially girls, are looking at those beauty icons and wishing they are pretty as them when so many of them have had work done.

Now, I know I constantly discuss about the topic of beauty, I know there are more important qualities that can be talked about and I know there are people who believes that *external beauty is something that shouldn’t be complimented on because it’s what one is born with, unlike, say, intelligence, strength, what have you. But, come on, we’re humans. We make snap judgments about someone based on their exterior. We are more attracted to those who are good-looking at first sight. And subsequently, we compliment. Because looks are the first thing we see about someone! I’d be lying if I said someone’s looks doesn’t appeal to me. It’s almost as if it’s automatic. In fact, I’m quite certain it is. Now, you might think: “Exactly! This is the reason why people alter their look.” Makes sense, but! – I think we all know what truly matters at the end of the day is our interior. And, even so, it doesn’t make changing our natural look okay. Because, there is no such thing as perfection in this world – not everyone are born beautiful, that’s the reality of life. Some are more beautiful than others, true, and we acknowledge that. But after we’ve passed that automatic stage of admiring someone because of their physical features, we should get over it and understand that there are far more things to love and admire about a person other than how they look.


Before I digress and start discussing about my journey towards accepting myself which is not the point of this post, I’ll just end off by saying that people are so fake nowadays. That’s honestly what I came to say. Goodbye.

Love, Amelia

*I beg to differ. After all, one can also be born nicer, or smarter, or greater in certain areas than others. Although looks aren’t the most important thing, if it’s okay for someone to be complimented on their other characteristics, why can’t they be complimented on how they look? And even if you tell me you will try your best to avoid doing so, you’re still going to end up doing it. It’s a matter of whether you simply leave it as a thought or verbalise it.

After Borrowing

Remember I said I borrowed 5 books? Yeah, I only managed to complete 1. 3 books were unfinished and 1 was completely untouched (The Life Intended by Kristin Harmel). That was all I could manage in 2 long months. How sad.

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However, to defend myself, I chose not to finish one of the books (Some Kind Of Normal by Juliana Stone) because it was too ‘teenage-romance’ for my liking. I thought high-school/teenage romance cliches appeal to me, but I learnt that its appeal only applies to movies. Perhaps it’s because reading requires more of my time and if I had to invest my time in reading, I’d rather read a book that has an unpredictable plot.

I could almost finish another book (When In Doubt, Add Butter by Elizabeth Harbison) but didn’t because I caved and read the ending. It spoiled the fun for me so I stopped reading it. YOU NEVER READ THE ENDING. You just don’t. It’s like a spoiler for movies. It ruins everything. I find that this always happens to me, unfortunately. Even with dramas. Whenever I get too eager to know what happens but am not patient enough to watch the events leading up to it play out, I will read recaps AND THEN mentally throttle myself for succumbing to my temptations and spoiling the fun. What made me want to read the book was the development of romance that stemmed simply from written messages passed between 2 characters. Other than that, the storyline was average. There were also scenes I would much rather not read (read: bed scenes).

I barely touched the fourth book (Little Beach Street Bakery by Jenny Colgan), although it was the book I was most excited to read. I knew I would love the style of writing and I was right because the author is British, but she used far too many new vocabulary I had to look up the dictionary every 10 minutes. It was disruptive and tiring, but I promise myself I will pick up the book again because I really do want to know what happens. Plus, we’re talking about bakery. I utterly adore bakery-themed books.

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Alas, the only book I managed to complete is the one above. It was originally in French but was translated by- I presume -an American author because the writing sounds very American. I thoroughly enjoyed the book. It’s romance-themed set in a hospital, revolving around a man and a woman who’s in a coma . I can understand how the woman in the coma could fall in love with the man who bares his soul to her (as she can listen and formulate her response in her mind) but the man, too, falls in love with a woman. How interesting is that? No matter how I think about it, it simply doesn’t make sense to me. How do you fall in love with someone you barely know and cannot engage in a proper communication with. I wanted to find out how. I could almost accept the concept but halfway through I realised that I’m reading from the point of view of both the characters so I’m aware of either of their thoughts, but for the man, he hasn’t got a clue what she’s thinking. In the end, I still couldn’t comprehend how something like that can happen.  But, it was still fun to read.

Finally, from this experience, I learnt that I shouldn’t overestimate my capabilities, especially as I’m only getting back to reading. Lmao.

Love, Amelia


Life atm


It’s been quite a while. Recently, I was motivated to write a post about my uncongenial sibling relationship, but I forgot why I wanted to talk about it in the first place so I only left it in my Drafts. I felt like I need a good enough reason to share something so personal. I suppose the reason why I decided to bare my sole and talk about it is for me to comprehend why exactly this has happened.

I am not talking to my sister, and haven’t been for quite a long while. I know my mother wishes that we talk, but affection cannot be forced. I can be quite childish and play the silent treatment game, but experience have made me wiser and I understand why my mother would want to see her children bond. I thought long and hard, and I became slightly baffled. My sister and I weren’t exactly close to start of with, but our relationship wasn’t too bad. We joked and laughed and could tell each other secrets. We didn’t stop talking without reason. An incident that happened about 2 years ago triggered it. I may have blown it out of proportion, I confess, but, several times, I had wanted to reconcile. However, each time I had wanted to, she annoyed me again and the feeling instantly dissipated. I will not go into detail about what she had done because I am not a saint and I’m sure I’m also guilty – one way or another – of contributing to our fall-out.

For a while, I felt horrid for being this way. I wanted to know if it was normal for siblings to be like this, so I resorted to Internet to find out. I read several blog posts, one of which this one. My sister truly isn’t that bad, but what I learned was that, while it is considered undesirable, it isn’t very wrong. Yes, I know that Islam discourages estrangement amongst relatives, but it just feels so difficult right now.

I really wish I could talk to her, but I just cannot bring myself to do it. I have so much built-up frustration towards her that the thought of talking to her seems so impossible. I suppose I’m quite tired. My poor mother depends on me the most and I don’t blame her for any of this. I am trying my best to be a good daughter (I don’t think I am there yet, honestly) and will continue to do that but what frustrates me the most is that I am fighting to make things easier for my mother against all 3 of my siblings. I, alone, am not enough to make my mother happy.

Now, on to happy things. I cooked for the family thrice, and unsupervised! Boy, was it pressurizing.

Menu was:

  1. Paru Semor Suun (beef lungs + glass vermicelli + dry sambal)
  2. Chicken Rice
  3. Spaghetti Bolognese

The first one was quite a disappointment. The paru was so difficult to chew because I didn’t boil it long enough, though the taste was quite spot-on. I was low-key shattered. I truly felt so sad. This always happens when something I made doesn’t quite make the cut.

But, Alhamdulillah, I succeeded with the other two. You have no idea how accomplished I feel. My father loves my mother’s cooking and he couldn’t detect the difference. That’s an excellent start! One thing I realised after having done housework succeedingly for three days back-to-back – IT! IS! TIRING! How my mother does it routinely for close to 25 years bemuses me. She is a superwoman. Mothers are superheroes, I tell ya. (Of course, fathers can be too. No discriminating here :P)

I’ll let you in on a little secret. Truthfully, I am torn between wanting to be a careermum or a homemaker. First off, I’ll let you know that being a wife and mother has always been a life goal of mine. Growing up in a household with a housewife as a mother influenced me a lot in my desire to be a stay-at-home mum. I enjoy doing housework, that’s one, but I also think for some woman, there’s so much joy in being able to be there for our children literally every step of the way, witnessing their growth, having all the time in our hands to make our family breakfast, help our children get dressed for school, sending them to school, allowing our family to come back home to us, help our children with their school work, the list goes on. Not that we can’t do all of that while working, but try as we might to balance work and family, we will somewhat be limited by exhaustion and/or stress from work. Not all women will agree with me, but seeing as how from a young age (I berangan a lot, lmao, please spare me your judgment), I’ve always dreamed (yes, dreamed) of being a stay-at-home mum, I feel extremely tormented between wanting to be that and pursuing a (perhaps successful) career as a social worker – which is a recognisably physically and mentally draining job – or other probable job my qualification might take me.

Talking about qualification – I am starting school very soon! I am terrified. Once in poly I was so overwhelmed by the intensity of the semester that I cried due to stress. Over something that hasn’t even begun yet. Admittedly, I am quite the crier. In primary school, I cried in an English class because I couldn’t describe an oral picture. In secondary school, I cried due to fear of heights when attempting several high elements course during camp and in poly, at freaking 17, I cried TWICE – the first time in a public speaking class when I stumbled during an impromptu presentation and the second at a high element course. You can probably deduce from the above-mentioned that 1) I am very expressive – can’t help it, 2) I am TERRIFIED of heights, and 3) I hate public speaking.

I don’t think I’ve shared this before but it has been confirmed (insyaAllah) that I will be studying Social Work at SUSS (previously SIM University). I attended their Get To Know You Session on Wednesday, where students were informed of what to expect during our 4-year programme. I left the room feeling bloody petrified and slightly regretful I hadn’t chosen Criminology at SIT. But who knows, Criminology could be worse. The lecturers were set to scare us, I’ll have you know. The same thing happened in poly and usually, the semester turned out to be better than I’d expected. So I don’t know if they’re just trying to prepare us for the worst or informing us of the realities of the programme. We were informed that there will be a lot of public speaking. Just thinking about it makes me feel faint. But, InsyaAllah it will prepare me well for the job because being a social worker involves a lot of communicating.

But if there’s one thing I learnt, it’s that they lied. I was told by many (i.e. my public speaking tutor) that with practice comes improvement or perfection or whatever, but I can vouch for its fallacy. Not sure if I had sufficient practice but in secondary school, I held several leadership roles where I had to repeatedly speak in front of a crowd (as a student councillor, camp facilitator, CCA main committee) and in poly, where I had to do countless presentations, and yet, at every instant where I had to speak up, I am engulfed by a colossal wave of anxiety comprising of 1) wild butterflies bombarding the insides of my stomach, 2) the false urge to poop, 3) face red and hot as burning coal, 4) sweat swamping my entire existence and 5) a desire to escape from reality. Fine that I experience that, but I thought I hid it well. N to the O. P. E.  People often ask me if I’m nervous, tell me to “relax”, “take a deep breath”, “count to ten”, so on and so forth. And as if that’s not telling enough, my hands literally vibrate if I’m holding a cue card, which oftentimes, is a necessity (for me).

I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again. Sometimes, I feel disadvantaged because the ability to communicate and/or speak well is an asset for school and work success. Yeah, success requires stepping out of the comfort zone, yada yada, but at times, I get so tired of repeatedly experiencing such an anxiety that I just wish I could forever stay in my cozy, warm bubble of comfort.





I suck at titles when what I want to talk about doesn’t have a theme, so I’ve decided for such posts, I will just title them as ‘Babbles’ categorised under – yep, you guessed it – ‘Babbles’. I figure adding categories would be convenient for readers and myself. It’s also useful for readers who might be sensitive towards certain type of posts (i.e. rants). If you’re one of them, kindly avoid all my rants, thanks.

My blog is still under construction – there are still tons of uncategorised posts. I am going to categorise each post to neaten my blog because I am a quite anal about organisation. I’m also going to remove some posts. I recently converted from Tumblr, so there are a lot of reblogged pictures and posts. I don’t quite fancy them being here so I’m going to delete them but keep them on my initial personal blog. I am also going to clean up that blog, but I’ll leave that for later.

If you wonder why I have 3 blogs, here’s why (skip if you’re not concerned): my main Tumblr is for reblogging images or quotes I identify with or enjoy looking at – but, I maintain its aesthetic. My other Tumblr is where majority of the posts here came from. It used to be where I rant and talk about personal things as well as reblog images or quotes that doesn’t quite fit my main blog. Now, however, I will post all my lengthy personal posts here, and leave my personal Tumblr primarily for reblogging images or quotes.

…I suppose I’m rather fussy when it comes to things like this, hahah. I utterly love my main Tumblr though. It’s simple but I spent a long time customising the design. Took care of it like it’s my baby, and I occasionally drop by just to revel in the fruits of my (scant) labour. And if you’re wondering, my URL comes from my self-created Korean name, Shin Ji Hye, 신지혜 (‘hye’ pronounced as ‘hey’).

Love, Amelia


Sea Of Books

I went to the library for the first time in ageeees and it made me so ridiculously happy. Being enveloped in a sea of books and its enticing smell reminded me of just how much I loved reading and, simply, books. I walked out of the library 5 books heavier.

One of the books I borrowed is recommended by a friend – it discusses life after a spouse’s death. Another is a cliche teenage romance, 2 others are bakery- romance themed and the last is also romance but set in a hospital. If it isn’t obvious enough, I love to read romance novels.  It used to make me feel really silly because I know there is more to life than romantic love and, oddly, I felt envious whenever I encounter bookworms raving about non-romance related books. I’m not ashamed of it anymore because, really, why do I have to be ashamed of something I like? I also love love love bakery-themed books. It’s funny – the word bakery on its own is capable of sending sparks of glee inside of me. I love baking and whenever I imagine the glorious foods (breads especially), engulfing sweet aroma and cosy ambience of a rustic, wooden-furnished, yellow-lighted store (how I imagine my ideal bakery to be), I just fall deeply in love.

And I notice that I tend to enjoy reading books written by English authors more than American.  There’s just something more appealing about the way they phrase their sentences, their choice of words and simply, their aura.

I’m 3/4 through the teenage romance novel and I must say I am disappointed by how fast things are moving. There were barely any relationship progression and all of a sudden, they began to like each other and were kissing. I personally regard kissing as a big thing, where religion isn’t a concern. It should be saved for someone you love; not someone you simply like. People pass around kisses like nobody’s business. It mortifies me. The story also discusses life issues surrounding the 2 main characters – that appeals to me more than the romance, honestly.

I will share about the books in greater detail once I’ve finished reading them, so that I can squeeze in a brief review. I’m very excited to start on the bakery-themed ones but I’m careful about harbouring high expectations for the fear of disappointment.

Love, Amelia