{016}; L’appel du vide.

I wish I have Acrophobia, the fear of heights and high places. I thought I was afraid of heights. I thought I overcame the fear when I’ve discovered the beauty of bird’s-eye-view and the panoramic view from the top of a tall building.

I cannot be more wrong.

After a couple of encounters of high places and its panoramic view, I’ve come to a conclusion on why I thought I have Acrophobia.

I am not afraid of heights, I am afraid of myself.

Have you ever been on the rooftop and decided to throw something down just for the sake of it?
When I was younger, we used to have a room of the top of a building in Pattaya where our family would go there for a relaxing family trip once in a while. The room was on the 23rd floor of this very chic condominium and every room has its own balcony for residents to enjoy the beach view.
When we first brought the room, everyone was very happy about it. When I first got there, I was very hyped about the sea view. I went straight to the balcony and look out into the horizon. The sun was setting and everything was yellow, orange, and with a little touch of pink. When the sun went down, there is nothing more to see other than the night sky and what is below us. When I look down, I remember seeing houses and cars and people walking under the street lamps. Everything seemed so quiet up here and the night have made it even more peaceful.
Then my mind started to do this usually weird thing where I know I am not going to, but I could.
I could jump.
It’s like something is pulling me to go closer to the ground, and a major part of my mind thinks it’s a great idea to climb the balcony to get a closer look at what is below us.
I don’t really recall what happened next, but the balcony has been sealed shut by my grandpa from that day onward until the day we’ve decided to sell the room. No one is allowed onto the balcony ever again, not even my parents.
My mother thinks I’m suicidal and she blames herself for not raising me well enough.
I’ve tried explaining to her that I was not going to jump, and I didn’t have the thought of ending my life. I just want a closer look at what is there on the streets.
Although there is an urge to jump, but that’s not because I am not happy with my life.

It’s not the height I’m afraid of, it’s my mind answering to the call of the void.

I believe we all have our fair share of this experience where we could, but we are not going to. We could throw whatever it is in our hands into the void, but we are not going in. I could just take one big step to answer to call, but I am not going to.

When we are young, our superegos are still learning what should and should not surpass from our id. The boarder line between these two territories is still a blur.
Even when I am 22 years old with a basic knowledge of physiology and Freud’s Psychoanalysis theory, the temptation of the void gets me every single time.

I think that explains a lot about who I am as a failed human being. Of everything I am scared of, my very own mind is still on the top of the list. My mind has this build in bug for self destruct. I like to think that the bug was buried deep down in the pit of my id, but it seems like my super ego just failed to do what it’s suppose to do when I am confronted with the call of the void.

I think that’s the reason why my subconscious decided to push the thought as Acrophobia in order to prevent any confrontation with the void. I know I am not going to jump, but I never know when that would change. I fear that, when I am on the ledge, there might be a time when my conscious is the one answering to the call, and I would self destruct.

I might have underestimated that self-destruct bug I have in my mind. It’s just that my conscious and my superego is doing a great job preventing it from being temped to being suicidal. We have been through a lot to get from there to here.

I’ve tried repressing dangerous and self destructive thoughts, but my id is like a vault rather than an bottom-less void.

There would come a time where I’d have to decide if I would answer the call or walk away, and it is terrifying that I might hesitate.

{015}; Here, There, and nowhere.

Where will we go from here?
How would I know.

Where are we heading?
I would love to know, too.

Is there an end game for all of this?
I have no idea.

There are hundreds of unanswered questions during the four years of Bachelor degree, and that multiplied like blood cells after graduation. It's startling, and also daunting, to be leaving school; the only place where our identity can manifest fully. In the real world ahead, we have to conform ourselves to the society above us. I've had a fair share of that myself due to some experience working part-time/freelance.

I used to hate the society I am living in. I hated the way people interact with each other, and how they depend their whole lives on the collective identity based on the imagined community. I hated that people refer to themselves as a collective individuals rather than their individual self.

Collective, collective, collective. We, Us, Ours. Them, Theirs, You People. Kill, War, Genocide.

Then, what am I without the society? What is the society with out people? It's undeniable that I, too, am a part of the society I loath. There is no escape, and we are all trapped here together. I cannot escape my nationality. I can pretend like I am not a part of all this, but at the end of the day, this society is inescapable.

People around me called me an ungrateful little shit.

But what is there to be grateful for? My family worked my ass off to earn this place in the society, yet I have to be grateful for something that does not exist, rather than being thankful for my family and their hard work? I don't understand, and I might be better off that way.

Now that you are very sceptical about me, lets get to know each other once again.
I've realised that I haven't had a proper self introduction yet. So here it is.

My mother gave birth to her first child, me, on the 1st of September, 1993, making me the first grandchildren of my grandparents before my brother was born four years later. Disobeying the traditional Thai belief that the child has to be named by a respectful monk in order to have a prosperous life in the future, my grandfather named me himself after an angel in heaven.

I’m basically the girl version of Raphael in Thailand’s Buddhism context. Actually, I’m more like Lucifer, but that is not the point.

The name is Rata, by the way.
It’s a name of a red flower in Māori (Metrosideros fulgens), and it’s a kind of rodent in Spanish (La Rata).

My grandpa didn’t expect me to take Spanish in college, so yeah. Apparently, it has quite a good meaning in New Zealand, a place I’ve spent some time in while i was growing up. I was too young to remember the details, but I remember it being awesome.




In the year 2000, my mother moved me to a British international school (St. Stephen’s International School BKK), and I stayed there for ten full years. During my ten years in the school, I’ve never thought the British accent was sophisticating at all. On the contrary, I tried my best to imitate different American accents from films and other medias. I’ve never actually look up to the British culture I grew up with while I was in school. I used to joke around about how the teachers are not making sense when they speak with a British accent, let alone northern accents.

Oh, how the table have turned.

After leaving school to undergrads, I then realised how sophisticated everything was in school. All the tea time, the way we are taught to hold ourselves, the language we use, and so on so forth. College is a wild place, and our school was a school for richer kids. I’ve never thought of myself as a snob, but I have to admit that I was. I am truly sorry. Our school was very small, therefore I don’t usually meet new people much.

I think it was during the iGCSE period (Year 10? I think so…) that I’ve realised that I can not do math. The core Math course was too hard for me to do, and I was thankful to every gods in the world that I’ve received a C for that. My brother, on the other hand, is a mathematic genius. This is not a gender/sex thing, it’s just that I wanted to be less like my brother, and more like myself. So that’s why I seek out a different path. I am also a bit of a rebel, and I want to prove to my parents that I can get by without being good at math because, in real life outside the text book land, there are these little thing called calculators, and it’s every offing where.

So I stop. I stop doing math completely. I cannot find x. After iGCSE, I’ve decided that math and I are over. I’ve chosen Literature simply because I thought I would be better off writing an essay than solving someone else’s problem.

I’ve found my way of life.

There was a gigantic fight four years ago between me and my whole family because I was seeking an alternative path. I understand them completely, but they also have to understand the fact that it is my future, and not theirs.

Will my life be easier if I’ve taken a business course rather than a Liberal Art major? Maybe. It’ll sure be less complicated, with less philosophical questions where the answer is another question. I wouldn’t care so much about gender equality, nor the fact that people are inhumane to the point that they might as well be the new Hitler of the 2000s. I might not have a critical opinion like I am now. I might see the world differently. Liberal Arts is a degree where you need to use what you’ve learnt and reflect it upon yourself, and the people around you. It’s the tip of the ice burg I want to remain on. Seriously, I would not want people unleashing what is below my superego. It’s too dark for the society to handle.

I see people being all literate on the internet, calling other people stupid and ignorance, when they, too, is illiterate as fuck. I am sorry, but there is a balance of being selfish, and being a member of the overall society. I simply do not understand why the people around me think that the bigger picture is not important. A nation cannot exist on its own, and therefore we should consider the world as one nation, regardless of our differences. Aren't we all the population of the world? Why only care about your/our people without giving two shits about the rest of the world?
Liberal people trying to be free of all identity boarders. Illiterate people wants something to hold onto to feel like they belong in the little community they are in, and that makes it easier for the hegemonic group to interpellate them with the imagined community ideology, making them unreasonable robots (no offence to robots).

You see, most people in the country were taught, since birth, to not ask question.
At home, it’s annoying for kids to ask questions simply because the parents does not know the answer as well.
At school, if the student ask questions, the student is viewed as not paying attention, and therefore will get their points deducted. Seriously, the teacher does not make any sense, but due to the ego and the cockiness of the teacher, we are not allow to not understand them. Shitty, I know.
We can not question religion, nor any practice leading towards religion. Let us not get into that real deep, or this entry might gain a lot of hate from the supernatural believers, and they might send me rape threats. Oh, I am not overreacting. Welcome to Thailand.

You are going to regret being outwardly critical in this place, especially if you are a radical feminist. Rape threats on all your houses.

This entry is going to go on forever.

Let’s end this right here, shall we?

I want to conclude this with a more positive note. I am not a hateful bitch who criticise everything, but I’m the bitch that believe in equality in its different forms, and in factual arguments. To me, religion is irrational and can not be proven. It’s one man’s word against physical evidences from sciences. Let me quote my friend here:

“But isn't it funny? a person who believes in something no one else does is considered a maniac but if a group of people believe in the same thing, it's religion?”

It is hilarious, but it’s the joke that might get us killed.

The four years in a Liberal Arts school taught me not to associate myself with people who does not see human being as equals. hey are not stupid, oh no. They are just people with too much insecurities that everything is threatening. What a shame.

After all, as I’ve mentioned above, I am a part of the society I loath, and it’s my responsibility as well to make this a better place for myself and everyone in it. Why? you might ask. Well, I may be a selfish motherfucker, but I am a selfish motherfuck that lives in this society. Thailand is my home, no matter if the people are culturally illiterate as fuck, it is still my home.

Liberal feminism seek to educate.
Dear god of feminism, please give me the strength not to kill people.

With hope at last,
Rata Pengmesri


PS: Please don’t send me rape threats. I might be a free-wheeling bisexual, but I am also asexual … except if you are Aaron Johnson, then please.

{014}; I am very proud of you, my little cry baby.

About 6 years ago during my iGCSE period, I've been assigned to help organise the elementary sports day. I was not into sports that much, but it was better than sitting in class. I love kids. I love the sight of children playing in the sun. I love the innocent smile they have of their faces because every little thing impresses them. They remind me of the new dawn that cleared away the darkness of the night.

The event was fun to put together. I did not do much since I was just helping out, but what I did changed my life. My life would not have been this contained if it was not for this event. I could say the event was life-changing, but it's not the event, it's the people I met that has changed me.

She was a cry baby. She was the one you'd find clinging tight to her handkerchief in the back roll of the stand because she was too afraid to face the word on her own. She was scared of all the things that was happening around her. It was too overwhelming for her and her small little hands to grasp. She needs someone she could hold onto in order to feel safe again.

She was crying, and no one asked her why. People thought she was 'just crying' so they've ignored her and let her cry. If you see a little girl cry because she feel uncomfortable, it is not her fault, and she is not weak. I was that girl. I was the girl who would rather have someone I trust with me in an overwhelming situation such as a very crowed sport day. She reminds me so much of myself, and I knew how much I wanted someone to shelter me, and boost my self-esteem. Or someone to talk to me quietly until the tears dry away. I sat with her, telling her random things to make her feel better. The talk distracted her for a while until a member of staff came over and forced her to compete in a running event. She was shaking to her bones because she was afraid she would let her team down. The staff keep pressing her to go get ready without considering the situation.

I let her go, telling her that people cannot blame you for what you have tried your best on. Now that I think about it, I think they can. Even if they can't, they'll do it anyway. The society of condemnation, I suppose. And so she went, running to the event, looking better than she was before.

And she won the race.

It has been six years, and she has grown into a beautiful, and confident, young lady. I don't know if she still remembers me or not, but I want to let you know that  you were the strongest kid I know. You were fragile, but you know how to put yourself back together. Looking at how much you have grown these past 6 years have made me so proud. You've gained a lot of confident along the way, and is now a very lively girl.

Now that you are older, therefore is more experienced with the world and it's conducts, you might have realised that I am not a perfect older sister. The world is a very complicated place, and the more you grow up, the more you are pulled into its core. The kids' outer circle where everything is full of life drifted away as you grow older, replacing with the ugly truth of the world.

You, my little cry baby. It is alright to be a cry baby because you know you would pick yourself up, dust off the dust on your clothes, and held your head up high once again. You, especially. You have the potential to be someone, and to do something incredibly gigantic, don't let others bring you down otherwise. Most importantly, don't forget the time when you were at your weakest, because there would be no strength without the contrast of weakness. Big girl do cry, and it is okay. Don't let the society tell you what to do, or who to be.

Happy Belated Birthday, my little cry baby.
2015/02/27

{teatime de ratata'} 001: St. Regis Hotel, Bangkok, Thailand

Introducing this new section of 23km-down the rabbit hole blog, {teatime de ratata'} or #teatimederatata on instagram. Since my passion is to exploit the capitalist leisure phenomena, I usually spend my free time in a cafe or a tea boutique. With this regular leisure of mine, I've decided to turn it into something that may, or may not, be useful to people -especially afternoon tea lovers like myself- living in Thailand, or those who will be coming to Thailand.

Disclaimer: This series of blog entries/reviews are not aimed to discredit anyone, or any place. It's purely the writer's opinion and personal experiences on that particular place and time.

I do believe that, like all things in the universe, there is no place that is all bad, or all good. Just because some of these places got very low ratings does not mean the place is bad, it means that I didn't like it.

Just because I didn't like the place does not mean the place is bad.

Kay broh? lol


---------------------

001: St. Regis Hotel, Bangkok, Thailand.
(February 14, 2014 | 3:00PM)

I arrived at the hotel via the BTS (skytrain, Ratchadamri Station Exit 4) at 3PM. My friend has booked a table for 3 at 3pm that day because, apparently, there won't be any tables for walk-in customers on special occasions.

Located on the 12th floor of this lavish hotel in the middle of Bangkok, the St. Regis Lounge was decorated with bronze and brown interiors. The moment I stepped out of the elevator, I was greeted by no one. The staff are busy serving tables (mostly foreigners) that they have ignored the existence of new customers. I was half expecting that the tables would be filled with people, but there are only 3 tables visible in the front and about 7 in the inner corner of the lounge. There were only about 4 to 5 staff members and I have to wait for about five to ten minutes for one of the staff to take notice of me and ask if I've already reserved a table beforehand. It's not their fault I am a socially awkward person in which standing in the middle of a tearoom, not knowing what to do, does not really help me to be less awkward.

The table the staff led me to was next to a pillar, in which it blocks all the view I was expecting to see. The only available set was the Valentine set. At the time, I didn't really care which set they have because I'm the type who could eat anything and will eat everything. When my friends arrived, we call the staff to order our set. There are about 6 to 7 types of tea available on the menu. I called the staff 3 times before they've noticed us calling for their attention. I asked them on the different types of tea, but they are only able to tell me if that tea is black, green, or red. I was quite surprise that a tearoom staff does not have the basic knowledge of the different types of tea they are offering, but not everyone is picky when it comes to tea. Most people would rather focus on the food, methinks.

I ordered the vanilla bourbon tea because that's the closest blend to my favourite from TWG (yes, St. Regis serves TWG teas) because the blend gave this soft and sweet scent of vanilla. I usually go for the Midsummer Night Tea because of its chocolate and mint scent. I prefer black tea, but red would do just fine. I also have my tea without any sugar because I don't like the sweetness of the sugar to ruin the sweetness of the tea itself. I love my tea black, like my soul.

There is nothing much to say about the tea because they are just typical TWG tea in which I think tea people are quite familiar with already. I was expecting more types of tea for a tearoom in a luxurious hotel, but they only have the basics such as earl grey, english breakfast, chocolate and vanilla bourbon. There are others as well, but not that various.

❥ My Blanc shades, I love you.

The champaign that came with the set was alright. Yeah, it was just alright. I wasn't expecting any dom perignon or anything, so it was quite alright. I only drank half of it because I don't feel like drinking any alcohol with tea.

Now, moving on to the food. As always, we start from the bottom and work our way up. The 3 tier stand filled with pink deserts and food was served ten minutes after our order. There were 2 of each on the stand, and there are three of us.

Thanks to the filter grid app ❤

1st floor: The lobster sandwiches was nice. Actually, those lobster sandwiches were so nice we have to order more of those as an A La Carte. The rest? Inedible. The salmon smells like it has been in the fridge for a few days. The beef was quite alright, but I was expecting more from a very well known hotel chain.

2nd floor: SCONES. There were 4 scones, two plain and two rose scones for Valentine's day (yay for all my badass single ladies out there because even scones came in pairs lol) The scone itself wasn't bad, but the clotted cream ... are you kidding me. First things first, you do not leave the cream in room temperature for more than an hour because it will melt. Second things second, how are we going to eat one scone with one teaspoon of clotted cream? I purpose the hotel to give their customers the right amount of cream to the amount of scones. I have to call the staff over from their busy task for more clotted cream. I don't mind if you are using a thicker whip cream instead of clotted creams, but please put an appropriate amount on the table for us to eat, much appreciated.

3rd floor: The abomination of St. Regis' Valentine's day afternoon tea set. Everything was made of roses. Rose cake, Rose mousse, Rose this, Rose that. Each of us took one bite of each desert and shook our heads in disapproval. We gave up trying to finish the top floor of the stand. The desert looks so good, but tasted so bad.

The Lobster Sandwiches that cost 500 THB ☹

I was unimpressed by the food and also the service of the place, period. From the price I am paying for the whole thing, this experience was not worth it.

Rating: 4/10

Thumb ups:
- The utensils was easy to use and handle. I really love their knifes and forks. Their utensils are practices are beautiful, they goes well with their overall atmosphere and interior.
- The way their food looks. The food was well decorated and the lighting helps it to look good on picture. Do not let that fool you.

Thumb downs:
- The food, period.
- The service, and the amount of staff is too little that they cannot attend every customer when they are needed.

The Price:
- 2,500 THB (£50/$77)

x

☁ The food looks so nice.

PS: Thanks to Melody19s and Palayate for coming out with me on Valentine's day. Lots of love, xx 

{013}; I crave le freedom.

So,
I've decided to vlog as well.

Here's the first vlog featuring My queen Jessica's Blanc & Eclare.

ps;
I can't handle my agyo either, I'll show myself out lol

{012}; imperfecciones.

Let's talk imperfections.
If you are a feminine human being, are you confident enough to leave the house without any make up on? Let's be real here, the answer is yes.
I would leave the house with no make up on my face.

But I wouldn't want to meet anyone except my friends, or take any pictures. I definitely wouldn't want to run into anyone.

I hate my naked face. When I say 'Naked Face' I mean my face fresh out of shower after a layer of moisturising cream.

I don't usually wear suncreams because ain't nobody got time for that when you usually wake up at 7 and your class is at 8.

I also leave my brows to the point where it looks like there are seaweeds stuck to my forehead before I go to the waxing saloon to wax them in shape. Yes, I wax my brows and also other places. When I say 'Other places' I meant Legs and Arms. I'm not going to lie, I have hairy legs and arms. Boys in my class was envious because his arms and legs are not as hairy as mine.

Well, I could shave it off, but I'm also too lazy for that. Why spend half an hour saving your arms and legs when you can spend three painful hours and 1500B for some random stranger to rip the first three layers of your skin off, including all your hair and it's root.

I'm just a failure in life. Like, I just fail to live like a human being in general. The previous sentence does not make sense at all. I am a failure in living my daily life, basically.

I used to be very proud of my huge eyes, but not anymore. I've realised that my eyes are not even. It pisses me off every time I'm trying to get a good selfie and my eyes just messed it up. Are you even serious. One of them is bigger than the other. And also my nose. I hate my nose and I will fix it as soon as I come back to Thailand with a master degree. I'm going to fix my nose no matter what.
I don't even want to talk about my chin and my chubby cheeks. My mouth is very weird, and I cannot take side portraits because of my out of shape lips.

Those are just some of my imperfections. I also have other imperfections that would be quite harmful to myself and the people around me, but I would want to save that for my vlogs. Yes, my vlogs.
I will now be filming vlog updates as well as writing blog updates. YOU CANNOT ESCAPE THE RABBIT HOLE. Sorry, not even sorry.

The conclusion of this entry is:

You either wear your imperfections like an amour, or conceal it deep enough that you forget about it.

Shout out to those people who are able to wear your imperfections like an amour, and is proud of theirs. I can never be one of you guys, I can only admire you guys from this little dark corner I'm hiding. I'm the latter group. I'm one of those people who would deny the existence of my imperfections, and push it way further down my id that I forgot about it. I also make sure that the superego dudes and dudettes does not let those shitty things run around in my consciousness. Apart from this entry where I'm being honest about how f-ugly I am, these things will never be mentioned again. I am an ugly human being, but I'm trying to cover those things up with all the make up I can buy. I'm also aware that aesthetics also play a part in this 'am I ugly or am I not' thingy, but lets be real;

I cannot even accept this without any filter.

{M5} Mon

When you have to scroll through your old entries to see the number of your latest tag,
that's when you should realise that you have been gone for way too long.

This is M5, i.e. the 5th entry about Films, and stuff in relating to films.

As you may have noticed that I've been working on this short experimental film since December of 2014 (which is just a month ago). I've put a lot of effort into this project since the very beginning -planning the theme and storyboarding and stuff- till shooting the footage. I just finished editing it last night at 3am (GMT +7). It wasn't as pretty as I've expected, and it's not much, but it's a start.

I've also decided to do a vlog as well, so stay tuned to that.

I'm starting to have this doubt whether or not I really want to go to Yorkshire for Masters. I don't really know anymore. I thought it would be good for the future, but I just don't know anymore. So that's new, and that's something I'd like to spend some time thinking it through.

Anyway.

Here it is.

Thank you, and have a better day.

- Rata

{011}; 'Tis the year of changes.

I'm getting ready to flee Thailand.
I'm getting ready to flee Bangkok.
The only thing that's in the way of this path is the dubious near-future.
Not everything is set in stone, but the possibility is quite high. I've done my part, now it's up to the authority to judge my responsibility and make their decision.

What am I blaming about ?
Right.
I haven't been completely honest with all of you.

I am currently working at Harper's Bazaar (Thailand) Magazine as an intern/translator. I'm the writer's apprentice, basically.
I've been working on this job since September, and I am enjoying it so far. However, as I've been planning on leaving the country straight after my last day of my 4th year, I need to focus solely on the application and IELTS.
Talking about IELTS, I am scared. Ok, my English isn't perfect, alright. I've made mistakes, here and there, occasionally, most of the time, yeah. No one's english is perfectly perfect, alright. By all means, I need at least a 7.0 to shove it down someone's throat, and also for the master degree submission. Yes, I am going to Yorkshire for Master in Marketing Communications.
Hey, my dream job is to work for a company that organise concerts and events, alright. Can I just work for Royal Pirates.
And yes, I've been a fan of Royal Pirates since they were still making music in America. After all that time, they've decided to come to Thailand on the day I'm extremely poor and busy. Perfect timing. I went to send them off at the airport, though. And James received the polaroid I made for him. (brb screaming). I have no idea if he's gonna bin it later or what because it's his now, and he can do anything with it. Once a fangirl, always a fangirl, I guess.



I'm in Kanchanaburi right now for an annual family trip. Grandpa wanted to donate some money to build this buddha statue up on the hills. I'll not say how much, but he could send me to America for 2 years, and England for another year with that money. I am not going to judge or anything, but how is giving money away to a temple will make us richer. Yellow should stop using fear to earn money, and Yellow should stop spreading fear and false hope to people. Until someone comes up with a prove that donating money to the temple would gain them access to heaven, or that any of this bs even exist, all this is just ISAs and RSAs controlling the people, repressing them, forcing them in giving money to a certain group of people.
I don't want to talk about this serious business right now, since it would take the whole day. I am not an anti-religion or anything, I just believe in reasons.
And I'm also allergic to bullshit.



Happy 2015, people of the internet.