In Singapore there are only two types of people, poor or rich. The city is so rich, ordinary people are also poor. I'm sure this time i'm on the kind of too poor. Money to work just enough to pay for a room crammed with a bed in the distance, but about 800 dollars a month. I struggled between wanting to get better when I paid for medicine for myself, but at the same time I thought I was spending on something invisible, and I know Darling thinks so too. You find the bills that the doctor sent me too absurd, and I am too ridiculous. I can't open my mouth to ask for money but my brother or sister can, how to say "Give me a few hundred for my psychiatric exams"? Just like that, I can't stay anywhere for long, every few months the rent increases and I move. There are also tricks such as going home from school to find that our belongings have been thrown out on the street, and the neighbors tell us that this owner actually rented out someone else's house, then let us rent each Room with a higher price to block the difference, then discovered. The scene where I dragged suitcases of clothes for tens of thousands of dollars in the hot sun, not knowing where to go, it happened so much that i got tired. Tired of moving houses, tired of poverty, tired of being treated like a dog.
Tension and sadness, nothing new, for nearly two years it must have moved two dozen houses, there is no pillow in Singapore I haven't cried above, there is no public toilet in Singapore I haven't vomited in it yet.
Since 2014, my blog started up quickly. The number of followers danced a few thousand a day. Just last month, I complained that I never made a living by profession, then the next month I was picked up by a limousine to the event. The tricky thing here is that if you do blogging properly with your conscience, your income from it is less than half as a waiter.
A little bit about blogging, something like the old web 360 chat blog is pushed up to the professional level. You build your own online site, a portal about yourself and feed it with information every day. Each person writes their own thing, if you cook well, you will be a food blogger, if you often travel, you will be a travel blogger, if you have big breasts, just uploading a photo to adjust the white chin v-line is OK. I work as a fashion blogger, get clothes from brands, take a set of photos as I usually see in fashion magazines and post them to advertise for that company. The more popular a blogger is, the more followers he gets paid.
Like so many things that used to be a trend, blogging is one that has been saturated. Everyone is a blogger, everyone makes a photo model, the photo before the next photo looks like a game of finding differences. I get mad at these "dumping" components - they think blogging is an easy and leisurely job, which in turn makes bloggers lose respect. If done right, blogging is a fast, effective and highly personal way of advertising. If you get it wrong, it's the one thing that will make you stinging the eyes of well-dressed kids forever.
Every week, when I see each wrap of clothes from several brands sent home, "Thank you, take a picture for me, I am looking forward to the photo", I sweat again. Wearing nice clothes, glitter glitter, I count coupons to go to the supermarket. Use the latest Iphone to check your i-banking account with $ 0 in it. I'm a literal virtual youth.
There are things that seem like everyone understands, then clearly no one understands. Do art, obviously need money, what in the world can you do without money? Painters need to buy paint colors; Singers need to record, need videotaping, need costumes. Dancing needs shoes. I need the following:
- Pay the photographer one third of the amount paid for the goods.
- Rent a venue and studio.
- Lease of tools, camcorders, lights.
- Rent extra costumes, various kinds of props.
- Transportation, road, and food expenses.
- Etc.
But the brands you want to advertise, you always put up a sentence: "I don't have money for blogger, I give you free clothes is too much, then you ask for anything else." Everyone thinks they are paying for a photo, but they never see what is needed and minimal enough to make a work of art. Maybe you big companies are a bit delusional, think that I have unlimited financial power, or think I'm a good, unknown petty kid not worth the money, I don't know. The second part must also be a little right, because more than a year later I still bite my teeth to clean dishes to support a virtual life. Every time I leave the house, even though I don't believe in the gods, I always pray that no big fans will see them while their idols are wearing slippery uniforms, their faces full of grease.
For me, fashion is a way of self-respect. If I feel nothing, I will wear a tank top, shorts. I feel good, I'll dress up pretty. I am completely not the type of person who does not know how to express myself, even I express too much on the other side, but expressing forever but still no one understands so I had to put things on myself. But also because each of my clothes is an emotion, a thought, every time someone criticizes me for being badly dressed, I think people think my mind is out of place.
My blog is the result of a sleepless work process. It was like a barrel filled with tears that I rolled to the top of the hill, when I arrived, my face was also salty and salty, making me obscure all memories of the process of climbing to this place. So, even though I worked day and night for too long, tormenting myself with too much calculation, so much stress and mental breakdown, I just began to vaguely understand where I was. Every time I go out on the street, I have to wear a mask and sunglasses so that fans won't come to take pictures. Only then did I understand why celebrities cover their faces when they go out on the street. In the past, it was ridiculous to see it on the newspaper, who did not know who it was and had to hide it? It turned out to be a cover to let people know that I was feeling bad and I didn't want to be bothered by anyone, so that no one would dare come near. I was walking with My Lover on the street without wearing a mask and it would take thirty minutes from ten minutes, with twenty new acquaintances. That was both surprising, but also something I knew it would happen sometime. I never know how to react when people tell me that I am "role model", "idol". Thinking, "Oh he does not know what he is saying?" yes, bored, and surely no matter how many years I do not know how to deal with strangers who are trembling with suspense when meeting and asking how am i.
When I started blogging, it was the loneliest period. There were so many stories to tell that I had a gag on my throat every time I met my friends, so I just stayed quiet, so I blogged. It was like a letter from far away sent home, but it saved the part of having to imagine how the recipient reacted to it. Blog like: "Ahaha, that's how I am, if you like it, okay. if you don't like it, okay." Who expected this world to be so unjust, and injustice would like to read the injustices of other injustices, so I went up like a wind. That's why art is always on fire when you are living in your own hell.
YOU ARE READING
Lỗi - Error 404 English Translation
No Ficción"Finally, my autobiography book, Error 404 is out, after 2 years of work. It actually took me only 6 months to write 99% of the book, but couldn't write the ending for a long, long time. I wrote a book about a child who was sexually abused, unhappy...
