Do You See What I See?

I've always had this notion: what if people actually see different colors? What if what I perceive as red is in fact perceived as blue by someone else? And what if although we perceive them differently, since in language they have the same word, we never notice and think they are the same color? Or how can you be sure that what you perceive as red is the same kind of red someone else sees?

Think about it that way: We know that language is arbitrary right? Which means there is no connection between the sound and the actual object it represents (in this case the color). For example, there is no connection between the word "table" which is a combination of sounds (or if you know linguistics a little, phonemes) and the actual object "table" which we have dinner on. It could have been called anything else.

This fact (or theory) aside, we know that we don't see color with our eyes, it's processed and "seen" with our brain. In fact, we can even dare to say there is no such thing as color, there is light. And light can take on any color in our mind.

Moreover, we know that language shapes our thoughts and how we perceive the world. There are some languages that don't use directions or even don't have the concept of time, hence, people speaking those languages perceive world differently than us.

Now then, these three things combined, why can't languages shape color differently, if they have different vocabulary for color? 

When I told my friends about these things, I always had the same answer: "Dirim, you are retarded." But according to a documentary, "BBC Horizon - Do You See What I See?", people in fact see color differently. (HA! Take that, haters.)

There is a tribe in Northern Namibia called Himba and they have a different vocabulary for color than we do. They categorize and describe color differently. The most interesting part is that how this effects the way they perceive color: They have different words for different types of green, the types of green which is even hard for us to differentiate than the original green. But, since they have different words for them, it is much easier for them to spot the difference. However, they have the same word for blue and green. And while we can distinguish blue and green rather easily, they have a hard time doing that. In other words, they actually perceive colors differently than we do.

And how cool is that? 

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xl7eh1_horizon-do-you-see-what-i-see-part-4-4_shortfilms

Captain Teemo on Duty!

So, a co-worker of mine was on a business trip in USA and he had a surprise for me when he came back this morning: Yes! He brought me back a cute Teemo hat, HOORAY!

I like playing Teemo in League of Legends. Because it's fun to annoy the hell out of people with your shrooms and by blinding and poisoning them. I'm currently a silver ranked player, well, who am I kidding, I've been a silver ranked player for the last 3 seasons. Anyways, I don't play Teemo on ranked because I think he is just not suitable for it (sorry Teemo). But when I play some casual, unranked games for fun, I play Badger Teemo with a AP/AS hybrid build. Then, he pewpews and pawns everyone. It's funny how something so small can be deadly. But hey, you know, size doesn't mean everything.

Now I want you to focus and find the differences between the two photos. The one on top is like "Fuck Yea!!! I have a cool Teemo hat. It's time to show off." Among the couple of photos I took, umm 27 to be exact, I've picked this one to post. The photo on the left though is also a winner. Because it reflects perfectly what goes inside my mind at that moment: "Pffftttchh, this is so fun. I'm taking a self shot in the WC on the building of my workplace. And I can hear a girl peeing in one of the cabins behind me. Er mah gerd, I haz a Teemo hat! I'm gonna burst into laughter. She's peeing and I'm secretly taking photos of myself with my fabulous Teemo hat and she doesn't know it. Trololololol."
Yeah, weird is my middle name.

Portal 2 OST: The National - Exile Vilify

I was playing Portal 2 a few days ago and I came across one of Valve's Easter Eggs in game, which are always clever and fun. But this time it was something more than just an Easter Egg for me, because it made me discover something fabulous. 

I was on Chapter 2, Test Chamber 3 and I was scoping the place to see what's around. Below was another room, which looked like there was nothing useful inside, but I jumped down anyway. Then I heard it. A song was playing in the room so I followed the sound to find the source, I turned around and found one of those Aperture Science Radios in a corner. The song had already touched me by then. There was a poster on the wall, "vilify", "don't even try" and "feels like a trial" was written on it. On another wall "sucker's luck" and "exile" was written. I really liked the song, so I took the radio with me to listen to it throughout the level. I admit that this test took me longer than the others, and the reason wasn't because it was harder to solve, but because I loved the song so much. When the test was done and it was time to leave the radio there and move on to another test, that's when I gave up and Alt+Tabbed to find the song. Then I found out that the song is in fact one of my favorite band's and I was like the only person in the world that didn't know about it. It's Exile Vilify by The National.

I just love it when you randomly discover a great song from TV series or video games. Although Exile Vilify is written for Portal 2 exclusively, it still doesn't make the lyrics any less influential. Matt Berninger's voice is charming as always and the piano tune is simply beautiful.

The song itself is very soothing, yet very depressing at the same time. Or maybe it's because I have been a bit depressed lately. Sometimes when you listen to a song over and over and over while troubled by something, you start to relate that song to a specific person or occasion. And when you listen to that song again, even after a long time when everything turns out okay, all the emotions you felt when you first listened to it come back and haunt you. Oh, now I see, that's what the song does to me in fact: it's haunting me. And I know that a few months or even years later when I listen to it, all the feelings and the sadness and the anger and the confusion I've felt for the last few days, will probably come back and haunt me again. I guess this is one of the downsides of having an auditory memory. But does it stop you from listening to a great song? Is the song really great if it makes you feel down? Or is it great because it can arouse such strong feelings in you? Is that the true meaning of what they call masochism, doing something that you know will hurt you? Does the song make you feel like a "Lab Rat"?  Or perhaps the right question is,

 "Does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine?"

Kindly Remove Yourself From My Personal Space, Thanks.

Sadly, there are some people who don't know the meaning of "personal space" or "privacy". It's not that I expect everyone to be the same, I know that we all have our differences and similarities, and are unique in our own ways. And after all, these concepts are highly variable depending on the intimacy level of the sides that are mutually involved, such as your relationship with coworkers, family members, a spouse, friends, or acquaintances. But still, if some people had an electrical shock at 1V for each time they enter someone else's personal space, they would be electrocuted and turned to crisp by now.

Some people grow up in dorms or crowded houses. Sharing their rooms with others, they don't have much personal space while growing up. That's why they don't know the concept and can't imagine there might be others who feel intruded when they do something. And then there is the opposite group of people, who grow up alone, without any siblings or many friends, so they can't share anything even when they need to, they can't let anyone in. But that's a whole other thing and I'll focus on the former one for now.

In my workplace, there is this cleaning lady who is extremely curious and it really gets me. Whenever I leave my desk, if she is near, I always catch her peeking at my computer screen out of the corner of her eye. Why woman, why? What are you trying to achieve? Will your life be suddenly complete, when you finally know who I'm Facebook messaging with? Will the void you feel inside be filled when you learn what insignificant matters I talk with my friends about? Meh, I just don't get it. Annoyingly, when I have to get some work done, she sits across me and tells me stories about her personal life, in which I have no interest at all, and completely disrupts me. Other times, when I take a break and want to be alone for a while, she just stays next to me, stares at my computer screen, and consequently, I can't do anything personal. This is a tricky situation. In times like this, you have to be professional, you need to suppress all your emotions. And the professional and polite girl I am, at these times I keep a straight face. But my inner voice shouts "WHAT-THE-HELL-GO-AWAY" continuously on a loop, until the danger fades into the distance. Nah, I really can't possibly see how personal things about you can hold so much interest for a complete stranger.

Not all cases are this extreme but they are usually almost equally irritating. I don't like it when you go to an ATM with a not-so-close-friend or an acquaintance and they stare at the password screen when you type your password. And if they sense that you get uncomfortable with it, instead of showing the decency to turn their head away, they mock you for being a private person. Well, this may come as news to you but, BEING MY FRIEND DOESN'T MEAN YOU NEED TO HAVE ACCESS TO MY BANK ACCOUNT, BITCH. This was not in our contract. Or, when you send a text message while using public transportation and the old lady next to you tries to read what you're writing? Dear vast and curious lady, if I wanted everyone to read what I'm sending, I wouldn't use a personal mobile phone, I would put it on a Billboard where my friend and everyone else can see, mmkay? And what about the pal that follows you out when you go outside or to a different room to take a private call? Gee, dude, is the reason you follow me to eavesdrop to what I'm talking or simply to make me reeeaaly uncomfortable while you do some unnecessary thing that you can do 5 minutes later anyways? 

We all encounter these kind of intrusions at one time or another. But aren't we all sick of them and want our personal space back? Yeah, roger that. The trick here is when people make you uncomfortable, you make them even more uncomfortable so they leave you alone. Here are some examples of what you can do to scare people off next time they enter your personal space:

1. All of a sudden, start screaming as loud as you can, continue until they move away.
2. Quietly, stare them in the eye for a long time, then lean forward towards them and in a really creepy and monotonous voice say "I'll kill you in your sleep."
3. Suddenly shout "Hey look! There is a ..... behind you!" (fill in the blank with any noun) and when they look, push them off the stairs or the building.
4. Put your hand on your crotch and act like you're masturbating.
5. Whisper in their ear saying: "Does this rag smell like chloroform to you?"

You can find more examples that are suitable for your occasions. Feel free to use your imagination in any way to scare people off.
Also, print this and hang it on the wall behind you in your workplace, room or classroom. If you're mobile, you can attach it on your chest and back with a pin. Scientific studies have shown that people who wear it encounter 67.48% less personal space invasions. 
Science!

Little Prince - Part Two - Chapter 27

This is the final part of the book. I want to share it, because we all have our own Little Princes somewhere out there that we miss dearly. We all have someone that when we look at the sky in the night, we wonder if they are looking at the same stars as we. We all have someone that when we think they do, we are suddenly happy, and when we think they don't, we are suddenly sad. 

And now six years have already gone by...
I have never yet told this story. The companions who met me on my return were well content to see me alive. I was sad, but I told them: "I am tired."
Now my sorrow is comforted a little. That is to say-- not entirely. But I know that he did go back to his planet, because I did not find his body at daybreak. It was not such a heavy body... and at night I love to listen to the stars. It is like five hundred million little bells...
But there is one extraordinary thing... when I drew the muzzle for the little prince, I forgot to add the leather strap to it. He will never have been able to fasten it on his sheep. So now I keep wondering: what is happening on his planet? Perhaps the sheep has eaten the flower...
At one time I say to myself: "Surely not! The little prince shuts his flower under her glass globe every night, and he watches over his sheep very carefully..." Then I am happy. And there is sweetness in the laughter of all the stars.
But at another time I say to myself: "At some moment or other one is absent-minded, and that is enough! On some one evening he forgot the glass globe, or the sheep got out, without making any noise, in the night..." And then the little bells are changed to tears...

Here, then, is a great mystery. For you who also love the little prince, and for me, nothing in the universe can be the same if somewhere, we do not know where, a sheep that we never saw has-- yes or no?-- eaten a rose...
Look up at the sky. Ask yourselves: is it yes or no? Has the sheep eaten the flower? And you will see how everything changes...
And no grown-up will ever understand that this is a matter of so much importance!

This is, to me, the loveliest and saddest landscape in the world. It is the same as that on the preceding page, but I have drawn it again to impress it on your memory. It is here that the little prince appeared on Earth, and disappeared.
Look at it carefully so that you will be sure to recognize it in case you travel some day to the African desert. And, if you should come upon this spot, please do not hurry on. Wait for a time, exactly under the star. Then, if a little man appears who laughs, who has golden hair and who refuses to answer questions, you will know who he is. If this should happen, please comfort me. Send me word that he has come back.

Little Prince - Part One - Chapter 21

Little Prince is still one of my favorite books of all time. Whenever I read it, it doesn't matter which state I'm in, I'm always filled with ease and comfort. It's incredible how you can learn so much about life from a children's book. And this, Chapter 21, is one of my favorite chapters:

It was then that the fox appeared.

"Good morning," said the fox.

"Good morning," the little prince responded politely, although when he turned around he saw nothing.

"I am right here," the voice said, "under the apple tree."

"Who are you?" asked the little prince, and added, "You are very pretty to look at."

"I am a fox," said the fox.

"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy."

"I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed."

"Ah! Please excuse me," said the little prince.

But, after some thought, he added:

"What does that mean-- 'tame'?"

"You do not live here," said the fox. "What is it that you are looking for?"

"I am looking for men," said the little prince. "What does that mean-- 'tame'?"

"Men," said the fox. "They have guns, and they hunt. It is very disturbing. They also raise chickens. These are their only interests. Are you looking for chickens?"

"No," said the little prince. "I am looking for friends. What does that mean-- 'tame'?"

"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. It means to establish ties."

"'To establish ties'?"

"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..."

"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince. "There is a flower... I think that she has tamed me..."

"It is possible," said the fox. "On the Earth one sees all sorts of things."

"Oh, but this is not on the Earth!" said the little prince.

The fox seemed perplexed, and very curious.

"On another planet?"

"Yes."

"Are there hunters on this planet?"

"No."

"Ah, that is interesting! Are there chickens?"

"No."

"Nothing is perfect," sighed the fox.

But he came back to his idea.

"My life is very monotonous," the fox said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..."

The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.

"Please-- tame me!" he said.

"I want to, very much," the little prince replied. "But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."

"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me..."

"What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince.

"You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me-- like that-- in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day..."

The next day the little prince came back.

"It would have been better to come back at the same hour," said the fox. "If, for example, you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances. At four o'clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you... One must observe the proper rites..."

"What is a rite?" asked the little prince.

"Those also are actions too often neglected," said the fox. "They are what make one day different from other days, one hour from other hours. There is a rite, for example, among my hunters. Every Thursday they dance with the village girls. So Thursday is a wonderful day for me! I can take a walk as far as the vineyards. But if the hunters danced at just any time, every day would be like every other day, and I should never have any vacation at all."

So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--

"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."

"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"Then it has done you no good at all!"

"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields." And then he added:

"Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret."

The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.

"You are not at all like my rose," he said. "As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world."

And the roses were very much embarrassed.

"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you-- the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.

And he went back to meet the fox.

"Goodbye," he said.

"Goodbye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

"It is the time you have spent for your rose that makes your rose so important."

"It is the time I have spent for my rose--" said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.

"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose..."

"I am responsible for my rose," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

A Must for a Girl's Blog: The Beast.

If I were to ask Gollum a riddle, I'd ask this: What's small, cute and pink? Yes, a uterus! But, we girls know that things are actually not what they seem to be from outside.. or inside. The uterus is in fact deadly. It is a nightmare living inside us that we can't get rid of. It sleeps quietly until it's ready to pounce, and once every month, it wakes up and shreds you into pieces. And that's why I call it "The Beast".  

When The Beast is almost ready to wake up, you experience some physical and emotional changes. The physical ones are easy to describe: your face is covered with acne like a teenager, you gain weight, your breasts grow one cup bigger than they normally are, which makes you want to toss your bras in the garbage can, because they do not fit anymore. 

As for the emotional ones, they are not really that easy to describe, because during this time, you transform into something else, but I'll try anyway: You're super jealous. You're easily offended. You're extremely moody. You're very unhappy and you don't know why. You're restless. You make a huge deal out of smallest things, unlike other times. Your libido goes berserk. You get too emotional. You realize how much you love everyone and you start to cry. 10 minutes later, you realize how much you hate everyone and you continue to cry. Then, you accuse yourself of being a bad person for thinking those things and you cry some more. After a while, you don't even know why you're crying anymore, you just do, because you feel like it. You become too attached and dependent on things and people, and this makes you feel weak. You feel like you're the ugliest person in the world. You become obsessed with the things you couldn't achieve in life and think you are a failure, which fucks up your self esteem and self confidence. You get angry quite easily. You hurt the ones you love the most. You yell at everyone. You burst into laughter and end up crying. You feel like you are a mentally ill person who needs to be locked up in a hospital. But fear not my fellow warrior! You're not a maniac. You're just having PMS.

When the PMS ends and your period begins, if you think you've overcome another month, you're dead wrong, my friend. Because the most dangerous part starts now: The Beast attacks, and it's time for you to meet the worst of the worstest pain in the world. On your period, while writhing in pain on your bathroom floor, there will be a time where you'll doubt if you're having your period or actually dying. Every month, at least once, you'll think "maybe I had a disease or a tumor all along and I didn't notice it's symptoms and now it strikes and this is how I die." And those cramps, nausea and backache will be so unbearable that you will wish you were dead.

But why does The Beast do this? We know that violence is in its nature, however, The Beast actually wants you to have a hundred babies. Because in its own way, The Beast thinks this will make you happy. And when it realizes that it's not gonna happen this month either, The Beast feels betrayed. Because another month's work is for nothing again. With the anger running through its veins, The Beast thrusts its paws into you fiercely.

Although you can't really tame The Beast, you can still compromise with it, try to make it docile. Eat a lot of chocolate, ice cream and candies. Also, lock yourself up into your room, and never go out unless it's really necessary. Don't even answer your phone. Don't chat with people online, either. Spare people of the inconvenience you'll cause. One day, you will be free of The Beast's curse again, but for now, The Beast is all you have. And until then, together, you will be The Beauty and The Beast. Ha! Ha-ha. Punny. Or not.

How To Do Your Hair In 20 Steps

Attention: This is a girly post! If you can't handle the sweetness level of rainbows and unicorns, abort now!

Today I want to write about something that we, the part of the world population who has boobs (I don't want to use the v. word), have been struggling with in the mornings throughout our entire lives: How to do our hair.

We're soon gonna celebrate the New Year... New Year's Eve... New Year's Eve's Evening... Uhm. Whatever. You get the point. And I want everyone to look fabulous, so I'll just give some tips on how to do your hair. 

I noticed that there are some certain mistakes that girls tend to make when they try to do their hair. First, your hair is not your enemy. It is a part of you and you need to embrace it, no matter what. Second, try to be gentle to it, your hair doesn't like to be bullied. Third, don't just do your hair right away, this is what you do wrong. 

Here is how to do your hair in 20 easy steps:

1. Introduce yourself to your hair, it works! Example: Hello hair I'm Dirim, how do you do?
2. Get to know your hair. Learn what its interest are. See what it likes or not. 
3. Take your hair out to a casual date, go to a movie or something. 
4. Let your hair know that you're interested in it.
5. Talk to your hair on the phone. Your hair likes to talk on the phone, believe me.
6. Try to get to know your hair better. Understand what makes it happy, angry and sad. 
7. Take your hair out to a nice, quite dinner. Communicate with your hair. This is the key to everything.
8. Be patient. Don't push things if your hair doesn't want it. Take it slow.
9. Take your hair out to a bar: Drink, laugh and have fun with your hair.
10. Don't treat your hair like it's an object. Your hair has it's own ideas, thoughts and feelings. Acknowledge them.  
11.Respect your hair. Or at least, act like you respect it. 
12. Show your hair how well you get along.
13. Give your hair the impression that you are perfect for each other.
14. Make your hair happy.
15. Invite your hair to your place.
16. Cook your hair some yummy food, serve alcohol on dinner.
17. Get your hair drunk.
18. Take advantage of this fact and start to kiss your hair. Your hair will kiss back.
19. Take your hair's cloths off. 
20. Do your hair.

And this, my dear friends, is how you actually do your hair. Now you know.

P.S. At this point, you have two options:
You can either have a happy, healthy and long-lasting relationship with your hair,
or,
All of a sudden, you can start to ignore your hair and make your hair cry.

It's up to you.

Wednesday Syndrome

I hate Wednesdays. Wednesdays are like ticks that enjoy sucking your blood. Wednesdays are vectors. Wednesdays carry other diseases and infect you with depressive thoughts. Wednesdays slowly and painfully suck the life out of you. Wednesdays want to wipe out any traces of life from Earth. Wednesdays like to make you suffer. Wednesdays live on your misery. If you were to choke on a little, cute peanut and die in a very ironic and twisted way, you know who would enjoy it? Wednesdays. Wednesdays like to make you feel trapped. When the days of the week were distributed, Wednesdays picked the Wednesday on purpose, so that you would be just as far in the workdays as you'd be out. Wednesdays are dangerous. Wednesdays love to play with space-time continuum. Wednesdays are secret time benders. Wednesdays slow the time so they would have more time to carry out their subtle plan to take over the world. Wednesdays don't ever want to end and leave their place to Thursdays, because Wednesdays hate Thursdays. Wednesdays hate everyone. Wednesdays hate everything. Wednesdays hate you. Wednesdays always pretend. Wednesdays pretend to be good, so no one understands how malicious they actually are. No one but me. No one sees Wednesdays for what they really are except me and that's why Wednesdays torture me more than they do anyone. Wednesdays can never be trusted. If the Wednesday forecast tells you that it's going to be sunny, do not believe it. Wednesdays intentionally spread fake sunny news so that you would be caught in a storm and get soaked. Wednesdays like to catch you off guard and then laugh about it. Wednesdays secretly want to see you get caught up in a tornado and disappear. When your boyfriend cheats on you with a bitch and then dumps you for her, guess which day it is? It's Wednesday. Wednesdays never sleep. Wednesdays never get tired. Wednesdays are selfish. Wednesdays only think of themselves. Do you know why we hate Monday Syndrome? Because Wednesdays framed Mondays for a crime they didn't commit and now Mondays are charged with Monday Syndrome. Mondays are innocent. It should be Wednesday Syndrome. Wednesdays always watch you. Wednesdays stalk you. Wednesdays spy on you. When you go to your room on the Wednesday night to do your man/woman business, do you think you are alone? Well think twice. You are not alone. Wednesdays are with you. Wednesdays are watching you. Wednesdays are watching you do it. Wednesdays are creepy. Wednesdays are your recurring nightmares. Wednesdays know your deepest, darkest secrets. Wednesdays like to blackmail you. Wednesdays know your worst weaknesses. Wednesdays are your worst weakness. Wednesdays lay low and wait for the perfect opportunity to strike and destroy you. Wednesdays are to be stayed away from. Wednesdays should cease to exist. Wednesdays are a huge threat to humanity. Wednesdays are sick.

Why am I so grumpy, anxious and out of my mind today? Because it's Wednesday!

Weird Childhood Crushes, Serial Killers and Masks

So, Dexter is coming to an end, and I've decided to dedicate this post to him. No need to be alarmed though, there won't be any spoilers, just some QQing about how much I love Dexter and don’t want it to end, and some random thoughts on serial killers, I guess.

Call me weird but ever since I was a kid, I've been amazed by serial killers. Well, the fictional ones, mostly. As a child, I would constantly watch horror movies and every single time, I would fall in love with the serial killer in the movie. I've always had a thing for masked ones especially. When people asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up, I would even joke about it and say "I want to be a serial killer when I'm 30!" (Yes, I'm THAT weird, get over it). Now that I think about it, I haven't done much in my career choice,  but hey, I still have 6 more years to practice and perfect it right? (*insert evil laughter here*) Anyways, my mom used to forbid me from watching horror movies, because they would affect me badly, but I would always find my way into watching them and I still carry the consequences of it as a part of me: I can never, ever sleep in the dark, and I'm drop dead scared of being in the dark, alone.

When I grew up and became a teenager, horror movies turned to horror books. This time, it was not the looks (!), but the brains that impressed me about serial killers. I wanted to learn how their brains worked, wanted to understand their ways of thinking. I even wanted to meet one in person and ask him/her questions to get to know them better, in person. My interest in masks remained unchanged though, it just expanded to include different type of media, such as the music band Slipknot (don't judge me, okay?). 

Now I'm 24 and this mask obsession still grows on me. It's now spread to characters in video games, such as Ezio in Assassin's Creed series. (I know it's a hood! It still counts since you can't see half of his face, so shut up.)

I'll be a sweet girl and give you a secret. For the boys out there who like me but are too shy to open up to me, here is an insider tip, just wear a mask and I'm all yours.

*A wild weird horse mask guy appears*: 'Sup babe?






Oookay, I take back everything I said about masks.
This thing is... It's just... I mean... Seriously, what the hell is that? You are a disgrace to the mask world, horse mask!

Ahem, back to my original point... Which I'm not sure if I even have one anymore... You know what? I'm done. This was supposed to be a post on Dexter, but it turned out be a really meaningless, creepy, serial killer and horse mask post. How can a post can stray off this way? Go home post, you're drunk. I'm calling it a night.

But this isn't over, Dexter. I WILL write about you.

To be continued...