Posts in Category: Design


While I was ignoring this part of my self, Amber sent me these questions to answer, so here it is.

1. What made you want to start blogging?
I started teaching myself to code when I was 13 and as I got better I began noticing other blogs. Being a traumatised teen with many bottled up emotions to express, I decided to begin typing my scattered thoughts and publish them to the internet. As you do…

2. What is your biggest dream?
To perhaps one day encounter and experience ‘true love’.

3. If money were no object, what would you do all day?
Help other people who are less fortunate. 

4. What is your favourite country or place to visit and why?
I would like to visit everywhere equally, there is something new I could learn in every place. 

5. Oops, you’re stranded on an island (with plenty of water & food). What three things would you want with you?
A satellite phone, mac book pro with internet connection.

6. Name a movie and/or book that you recently watched/read and can highly recommend.
The Never Ending Days of Being Dead – Marcus Chown – Book 

7. What do you collect?

8. What do you do to get “zen”?
Go outside and walk to a physically isolated area, lay down, listen to music extremely loudly, think of positive memories and smile to myself. 

9. What is the wisest thing someone ever told you?
That existence is a joke.

10. What song do you like to sing out loud?
So, so many. One of them is… Say Hello to the Angels by Interpol. 

11. If you could learn something super fast (Matrix-style), what skill would you pick?
The ability to read minds.

1. I am an atheist.
2. I have two favourite ice cream flavours – vanilla and cookie dough.
3. I am the eldest of three children.
4. There are four super powers I wish I possessed – flight, invisibility, telekinesis and telepathy.
5. My favourite 90s boy band was 5ive.
6. I was severely bullied when I was in grade 6.
7. In year 7, I was the shortest person in my class.
8. I first read about how Mars could be theoretically engineered to sustain human life when I was 8 years of age and have been fascinated with the idea ever since.
9. When I was 9, I thought I was a witch and created a spell book.
10. I used to watch my all time favourite show, House, on channel 10 every single week for years.
11. I have had 11 crushes during my entire life and not one has ever returned the feelings ¯\_(‘.’)_/¯


It feels a little strange to be typing something, knowing that I will soon publish this on my long neglected blog.

It evens feels a little strange to think that I have a blog these days, they’ve kind of disappeared. They don’t exist in the ways that they used to. Blogging is something one can do professionally these days. Anyway…

My absence can be explained by an absence that I felt from myself.

During the last 15 months… maybe a little more, I slowly lost pieces of myself until I was just… a body. Existing but feeling completely lost – empty, isolated and very, very afraid of being alive.

I have a habit of rambling and rambling and being inappropriate in the ways that I over share so I’m going to attempt to restrict myself this time.

Losing myself lead to many changes inside my own head, where I often dwell for far too long. I no longer have any fear of my own mortality, and I have truly let go of any anxieties that I ever had about the perception of myself that other people hold.

It’s difficult to explain how I felt because in many ways I was not feeling. It was as if any emotion had been drained out of me, by some hidden force and I couldn’t express anything. I had become a zombie-like creature; no motivation, no drive, no ambition, no desires, no joy, no sadness just, a void, forever.

Absolute pointlessness.

With such lack of feeling comes lack of will to live, to know anyone, to care about anyone or anything. It was a sense of odd calm but not in a peaceful, content way. It was a horrid sense of calm. Sometimes, when the emotional side of my brain broke through the calm, the only thing it was capable of feeling was self hatred.

In a revolting, toxic kind of way, this subtle, constant, negative, radiating energy wasn’t always bad. At times, it felt liberating. It didn’t matter if anyone ever conjured a negative thought of me because I could beat them. No matter how negative anyone thought I was, I knew that they couldn’t possibly think of low as me as I thought of myself. I’m not sure how that’s really liberating, but at the time, it felt like it was.

I was afraid of nothing except for interactions with other humans, especially those unknown to me. Attempts to connect with anyone, in any way, when you are struggling to connect with yourself, is terrifying. I ignored so many people and blocked out others. I was locked deep inside this empty vessel, my personality trapped somewhere deep in a dark place of my mind.

My relationship with myself became so foreign that I began to subconsciously sabotage myself, carefully disguised as a plan to be better. I destroyed myself and lacked energy. I was freezing all the time, even inside, next to intense artificial warmth, my fingers were blue. I would wake up in the morning and wish I could cry because the intensity of the cold I felt was physically painful and crushing. I felt hopeless, paranoid, nervous, hideous but most of all, I felt like a failure – in a variety of ways, the list so long, I can’t even begin to count it.

I became sick of existing as a shattered mess and after a long time of trying to reconnect with who I once was, I finally decided to seek external assistance.

I have become less self critical and my relationship with time has become more flexible. I no longer have a need to plan so obsessively for the future. The future is so uncertain now anyway, so I feel it is pointless to plan for and too often leads to immense disappointment.

I feel again and I want again. For now, to me, that is all that matters. Peace.





I am so insanely drained right now. I can’t even begin to think about what I was supposed to type for this post which I started thinking about two weeks ago.

Last week was very negative and strange. Life is strange. Or maybe, it’s not that strange at all, maybe it’s just my perception. Maybe I’m just strange – probably.

I must have looked incredibly miserable because in the last seven days, a number of complete strangers felt compelled to sincerely ask if I was okay. It’s interesting to observe how willing people are to open up to you when the answer they receive appears to be honest. I informed these individuals that my week had been terrible, that I felt like shit, instead of the usual, “I’m fine, thanks”. In response, these complete strangers would share personal burdens they carried on a daily basis, many of them told me things that made my sadness seem completely pointless.

Well… it is.

A sadness that no one gives a fuck about is perhaps the most pointless sadness of all.

These images are a little meh – probably because my state of mind is meh to the extreme. It also doesn’t help that my ageing computer can’t seem to handle what I try to render in photoshop these days.

Everything is flux, so I will be too.




Zero chance. Zero hope.
Never, ever, not even once. Considering the possibility of a chance is amusing.

Some will tell you that it’s better late than never.

Time to erase the fantasy and focus on the isolated self.

Force the memories out.

Make them fade away… (you said) melt away.

fade away
melt away
fade away
melt away
melt away
melt away
fade away
go away


I could not explain the imagery of this post if I even tried. I started this over a week ago and was planning to finish it a few days later… however, I was then offered a job out of nowhere and everything I had planned was postponed.

The other day (Friday) at work, I had this moment, sitting there, staring at the monitor – someone had just told me I did a “really good job” with the work I had created. My eyes were suddenly full of tears but I’m still not crying so it was easy enough to compose myself. If anything, it was a little more difficult to do so this time, as they were tears of happiness… or perhaps, tears, due to a sense of accomplishment, rather than sadness.

Some people strongly believe that if one works hard enough, one will achieve whatever one wants to achieve. I disagree with this notion. I have always felt that those who reach their goals are blessed with a little bit of luck.The job I was offered is one I have been aspiring to for an entire decade now. Being officially employed as a graphic designer is quite the emotional moment for me.

That night, as I walked to the train station after work, I caught a glimpse of my reflection and I felt so lucky.

I’m not cool, or super pretty, or super smart or super interesting… or super anything, BUT, the chances of me being who I am were so low. I wasn’t supposed to be who I am, I had to fight to be who I am – I had to fight hard.When I was younger, my first proper goal was to be a singer – no joke! I wanted to be a famous performer SO badly. I think I was about eight or nine at the time. I used to write lyrics in one of my school exercise books and practice singing them at home. I even tried to compose the music on a piano when I was in grade 6 during music class – even though I knew NOTHING about music (and sadly still don’t).

I think I let that dream fade away when I got to the age of 12 and realised an awkward loser like myself was realistically never going to be successful in an industry that appeared to be so shallow, at least that’s what I believed at the time.

It is around this time that I was also having an exceptionally terrible time with my existence.
I was basically a loner and the internet became my escape from the atrocity that was my reality. This is when I first began experimenting with graphics, initially as a need to create images to support the websites I was creating to practice HTML. (Hello nerd) It didn’t take very long for me to enjoy creating images more than coding, and eventually I realised it was something I could potentially pursuit as a career.

My aspirations of being a graphic designer had nothing to do with school, (at school I actually sucked at Art and I was a lot better at Maths, Science, English… and basically everything else other than Art class and… P.E) it was something that developed over time during the many moments I spent distracting myself at home.When you experience enough unfortunate events during your life, eventually, you begin to stop expecting that anything good will ever happen. I never stopped practicing digital visual art – never. However, I stopped expecting to ever gain full time work as a designer. If it happened – great, I thought, but I had completely given up any hope of it actually occurring.

Two weeks ago, just like that, it happened; I was offered a job. I wasn’t even actively applying for jobs at the time, I was in the process of fixing my folio so I could attack the job application process again with full force. That, was just luck. I got so lucky and I can not explain how strange the feeling is.

I know, that in a general sense, it’s not really an accomplishment, but it is for me. I have come a very, very long way since I was that loser 13 year old and I’m so pleased that I didn’t let myself down. There were so many times that I was pressured to completely give up on design, to not even blog, to cease all forms of practice. Now, it feels like all the work, dedication and the countless hours spent on photoshop were worth it. :)

Going to your day job and practicing something you love is an amazing feeling. It is even more amazing and somewhat surreal when that love is something that basically saved your life when you had nothing else to live for. 
I feel like this post is written more poorly than usual. I am awake way past my bed time and I feel quite delirious right now, I apologise.
I feel like I’m finally at the beginning of the good part of my life. It’s a pretty unique and awesome feeling. So, uh, yes. Things seem to be going decently for a change. The only problem I have is with people.

You know when you *like* someone and you know that nothing is ever going to happen? You’ve accepted it and you can deal with it, but as much as you try, the desire lingers and fails to exit your brain. It’s highly irritating. If anyone knows of how I can access the emotional ‘off’ switch in my head, please do tell.

Ah, I need to crash.Maybe I’ll try to actually make a fashion related post next time. We’ll see :)