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in the grand scheme of things

i want to be able to believe that i am trying my best. i don't know why i always feel like an impostor - that even when i know for sure, genuinely, that i am trying, that i cannot actually believe it. maybe it's because i scatter so many distractions into the mix of what i aim for.

i really wish it was easy to live, that i didn't somehow scam myself into living life on hard mode because of my own personal interests. how is it that i am not passionate for anything but still have the audacity to choose to only do the things i can somehow enjoy? how dare i not just force myself into doing my best for every single thing?

i speak about the kindness i tend to have for the people i care for, but is it not kindness for myself that allows me to slip so far behind? maybe it is just self-sabotage instead. i'd like to think that i am putting in 100% into this envisioned future i have in my head, but the thoughts constantly circle back to me wanting to just. to very much just, stop. a jellyfish mindset, a fickle dandelion seed blown into the breeze. i let the currents of time and life bring me to places without fully realising the impact of what actually happens. a cowardly way to live.

to fight for what i want, to throw myself into a situation where i could fail, to believe so strongly in myself that i refuse to say i give up. i yearn. i want to do. i want to stop being such a bystander.

the past few months of 2024 have been a ride, i have allowed too much bullshit to let slip. i'm slowly turning into a person that i despise. how dare i do this to myself? how dare you waste the effort and care and love put into you by the people who believe in you? i turn into someone i can barely look at in the mirror, the only good things about me being absolutely fucking shallow.

you talk so much about how much depth you can hold, but truly do you believe the nonsense you spew?

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unvalentines

i think that a sad little fact about me is that even having been in a serious relationship for the past 6 years is that i've never really celebrated valentines in a romantic manner - to make things worse, i associate valentines' with the memory of me staying up to bake cookies for my then partner, and whose partner then decided to hang out with his friend on that very day instead. so in a fit of passive aggression i left the cookies by his doorstep and went back home.

sure, not very mature but honestly, what else could i have done? told him the obvious fact that i (someone who was in their first relationship) would have wanted to celebrate valentines with their partner? or that i would have appreciated a heads up on his perspective on celebrating commercial holidays? i'm not saying that it's not allowed to not celebrate it, but in my hearts of hearts i am a sucker for gestures of love.

it fucks me up to think that the only time i've received flowers from him was for my graduation and never anytime after even though i'm someone who adores flowers. you would think that because he didn't believe in days set aside for having a celebration that he'd try a little harder to sprinkle a silly little romance every now and then. but really, i guess i did not actively do anything to deserve those gestures.

something something, you accept the love you think you deserve. is it really so bad that i'm easily placated by people thinking of me from time to time. this small thing reminded me of you, i thought of you today and that's why i'm messaging you, you live in my heart wherever i may be. i don't think it's the gift in and of itself, it's really the fact that you'd think of me enough to think that i'd like to see your smile when you receive this from me.

anyway, valentines' truly isn't that big of a deal. i know. i don't put as much importance on it as i used to, i'm jaded or whatever. honestly though, i'll just give myself a little extra self-love then, it'd work better that way i feel.

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cognitive dissonance

i'd like to think i wasn't stupid, but sometimes the decisions i make are bordering on brainless if not just actively harmful to myself. how have i already felt like i've fucked up a little bit too much after it's been barely two months into 2024? tbh though, i feel like i think that a lot of things could work a lot better if i just learnt to put in care into things that were worth it. i care really, but maybe not just for the right things at this point.

being on dating apps and meeting new people have made it much easier for me to distract myself from the more real issues that plague me. but honestly that's probably much cheaper than actually going back to therapy and meeting a psychiatrist. honestly wish i was more scummy so i could care a lot less for the people i will probably have to hurt inevitably at some point. there are some things i wish i had put a strong full stop on, rather than leaving them so open ended and so easily continued.

honestly if the cycle of me drinking too much and then very much regretting my own actions as someone who was basically black out repeat again, i will just have to quit drinking. probably easier said than done when i personally think that drunk sadi is much easier to be than sober sadi. sober sadi thinks too much, but i guess drunk sadi thinks too little.

my brain keeps hopping from one thought to another and i kind of deeply wished that it would stop, really. i worry about some of the stupidest things. even right now i'm worrying about work and how incapable i feel because of things that aren't exactly in my control. i also worry about how much i'm liked by people i honestly shouldn't care that much about. (but that's probably me not facing up to how much i actually like them as a person.)

another thought that keeps swirling in my head is my apparent incapability to be loved as i am. who am i really right? i tried explaining this to a friend recently but i couldn't really do it very well. what is the image i give to people really? i know that i appear a little silly (that's just something that's true) or maybe that people think i'm too easy because i tend to easily allow people back into my life. do i make you feel special? do you just like who you are when i'm around rather than my presence? bcos it feels like that a lot.

i think that things would be so much easier if all my relationships with people had a label on them - "friend", "someone to fuck", "stranger" - i don't enjoy not knowing what i am to people and especially what people are to me. i hate when things aren't clear cut or that i don't know for sure even whether i might somehow be in love with someone. things being unclear truly just makes it so much more confusing to me.

a friend concisely putting this into a string of sentences that actually made sense actually made me tear up a little bit. maybe this is what i mean when i say i wish i was looked at as my own person, to be liked as who i am and not what i might be able to give you or what you think i could grant you. a wishing well full of the yearning of men who can't give me much more than a dinner or two or who can only spout empty compliments at me when they don't even know me that well.

it might be my fault in the end though, i keep putting up pretenses and catering myself to the people that i meet just so i don't have to face up to who i actually am. they don't deserve to know me but then sometimes my facade cracks and they somehow believe that they can somehow fix me. or that i've become someone who has layers and suddenly they want to know what lies beneath the mask. everybody trying to steal pieces of my heart as a little trophy when i know that they won't end up staying for any longer than just a while once they know the full extent of my "crazy".

i really do deeply wish that love was easy, or that to be loved was simple. it feels like i keep having to clarify - do you like me? or do you like how i make you feel? would it be the same if it was someone else who could make you feel special? would you preferably settle with someone who could give you those same kind of feelings and who doesn't harbor this kind of emotional baggage? am i actually special to you or do you just feel special around me?

my fault that i keep finding some kind of external validation from the kinds of people who probably just want to have sex with me. it's my problem that i can't seem to just have sex without wanting to get to know them before it, i care about the stupidest things really.

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nothing lasts forever (really)

i hold onto memories like they're a rope to safety when things get tumultuous, but really though they anchor me down in ways that i don't think is quite healthy for me. to look back with fondness, and think of the past with nostalgia is so terrible. i just keep leaving pieces of my heart with people and places i'll never really be able to go back to again. that moment you feel infinite has passed, and you're not quite sure whether you'd feel that way ever again.

i think the fact that my scrapbook is filled with people i just no longer talk to or where our connections has fizzled into something barely there has made it much too easy to pine. but it is too real though, that these people have changed me and become parts of me in ways that maybe i don't even know. a friend that still has me in her bio, a friend that has a username i helped create, a friend i think of when i pass by a certain spot - all of this little things, all these ripples we created in each other's lives.

i can't help that i try my best to remember people fondly, that to hold anger or a grudge is not exactly something i know how to - even the anger i hold in my fist for the people who have wronged me gets replaced with a sense of guilt most times.

i wish the best to the people that pass through my mind - selfishly i hope i pass by theirs with a sense of fondness as well. 'how are you? i hope life has been kind to you. i think of you sometimes.' - to say that I miss them would be wrong really, i do miss the time that we share, the happiness we had in each other's company but there are just some things that are never really the same after going through the passage of time.

i am lucky really, to have had the opportunity to have spent some time with you (all of you), in another life maybe our lines would stay side by side a little bit longer, rather than just pass by a singular point. i truly wish that i had been better as a person, so i could have kept at least some of these connections for longer. i'm sorry, really. but thank you. i'll think of you sometimes.

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i'm not sure, really

i truly believe that i don't know how to be happy. that even as i do things that should bring me a sense of positivity, that i don't really fully understand what that feeling truly is. or maybe it is just that i feel like i don't really deserve to bask in that feeling for as long as i want to.

what am i feeling right now? disappointed? upset? angry? it's a lot of negatives for a day, haha. i feel like a big disappointment, to myself and the people around me. sure, no one has said those words to my face at this point of time. but i know, i feel it really. that there have been too many things that i haven't been able to do, or fulfil.

mostly though, i'm disappointed with myself. it truly feels like i could be doing a lot more. but my enthusiasm for life has faded into a vague flickering of a candlelight at best. and i feel so angry that i can't bring myself out of this pit. this despair filled pit full of all the things i just, can't seem to do. it's pathetic. how hard is to be human? why does it all just feel so out of reach for me? when will i stop feeling like i have to try so goddamn hard to just be?

after so many years of being clean of SH, i went back to it the other day. embarrassingly, as a 25 year old of all things. how have i not learnt to have better coping mechanisms? my brain was so muddled with too many different thoughts that i really, i truly did not know how else to deal with it. the silence that filled it right after the first cut was so blissful that i really couldn't bring myself to fully stop.

disappointing. and here i thought i knew how to love myself at this point. but, no. i just tried to pretend. i knew all the steps really, i knew the tick boxes but i couldn't actually do it. time is looped for me, the emotions that plague me when i was younger, plague me again now. they never really did stop. perhaps, even, they got stronger over time. futile to hope that i could have somehow gotten stronger too.

i feel a little tired. i wish i could take a nap under the sun, and feel somehow reassured that my place in the world was important. and yet, would i ever be able to believe in that thought? why is it so much easier for me to believe that the people i care for are the ones who deserve love for who they are? when will i be able to show that same kind of kindness to myself?

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lizard

you know, there used to rarely be any lizards in the house. back then, whenever one even appeared, tobi would take care of them. terrifying how he was so proficient at playing around with the tiny lizards - i felt bad at times and tried to bring them away, but usually he'd get to them faster than i'd realise they were there.

these days though, even after i released one into the wild. i keep getting one lizard visiting my room from time to time. it'd scare me in the middle of the night because i'd hear the plastic in my garbage bin moving. but these days i've come to realise it was just the little guy. i'm assuming it's the same one that keeps coming, and maybe even the same one that i brought out. that's a persistent little guy if so huh?

when i get frustrated with the lizard making noise at times i end up almost wishing tobi was here to help drive him away. not really kill, but i think the presence of a cat helps a lot with pests in general really. but then again, it's not like that's the only reason why i wish tobi was here. i still open the door expecting a furry body to run out. i still look at a food bowl that's no longer there. i still expect to hear the water from his fountain whenever i'm in the living room.

experiencing loss twice in a year really isn't that great. of course, the death of my cat has hurt me in ways i don't really understand. (i cry sometimes looking at happy cat videos of all things.) but the heartbreak of no longer even being on speaking terms with someone i consider my first love is just. something else i guess.

it's like opening the door to no one greeting you all over again. i see traces of him everywhere, a memory tied to something as ludicrous as bert from sesame street, a song not even about love that plays on shuffle, in the food choices i make and yet can barely keep down. the instinct to say hey, this reminded me of you or how i wish i could ask you how often you thought of the roman empire. so silly and small and yet so fucking painful.

i wish i knew what the deadline for grief was. the end point where i could fully say somehow that i am truly over it. i know that it's wishful thinking to say that maybe by the end of the month, all (almost) 6 years we shared could somehow mean not so much. i wish i knew what it meant to heal, it feels like i'd much rather wish for the knife that you held to still be lodged in my heart. really truly, the warmth from the blood covering it somehow feels so much more comforting than the gaping hole it's left behind.

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selfish

sometimes i think that there will be a day that i feel comfortable enough to cry in front of my mother. that when i truly feel like i am drowning in my incessant need to be loved that i will have the courage to go up to her and ask her to love me and reassure me that everything would be okay - even if it wasn't actually true.

i am already 25 and yet sometimes it feels like i am just 6 again, crying in a corner all alone, waiting for someone to tell me that the words that were ringing in my head weren't true. i wish i had been there to tell myself that things will get better, even if it wasn't true. how would i really explain to my younger self that the reason why i still can't sneeze too loud was because of how irritated my mother would get when i was sick? or that my irrational fear of getting too nauseous on the bus and having to throw up would incur some kind of wrath from the people i travel with was still so deeply intertwined with my mother screaming at me while i puked into the bushes next to the bus stop?

i don't know how to let things go very well and these days i'm plagued with the fear of disappointing people all over again. it is another thing altogether that i hear ringing in my head this time and truly, really, it is my own fault that i let things get to this point again. if i could be better, if i could have been more sufficient? would it have been easier to be someone who could make the people i care about proud? would i have disappointed less people with the decisions i so wilfully chose to make? i'm not sure how to fix things that feel this broken anymore. i'm not sure how to fix anything really, sometimes maybe it would have been better if i was some kind of repairman. but it feels like i've only known how to destroy and make things worse since i was younger. how do u change bad habits that have been within yourself since you figured out your own consciousness?

sometimes the way i am with other people and how i feel so loved makes me forget that there are so many things i should be sorry for - that there are things i've done that shouldn't be just forgotten or forgiven. i want to stay in those moments forever. but how could i be allowed really, to want to live like that? i can never run away from who i really am even if i try to move to the furthest place from here. maybe i will have to suffer with the remnants of everything that's passed for the rest of my life and that my mind will always find a way to remind me of everything worse that has happened. maybe i'm just trying to protect myself from lingering too much in all the emotional attachments i've made with all the kind people i've met in my life. how much longer will i take advantage of the people that care about me and never learn how to repay them because i am so selfish? i'm sorry. i'll do better. i really just want to do better until i no longer feel like i owe anything to anyone anymore. maybe then i'll feel reassured enough to let go and not feel the desperate urge to hold on to everything that i'm so scared to lose.

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mistakes

the one thing i’ve always despised most about myself was the urge i have to run away from anything i found too difficult to face. that’d i’d rather fully destroy relationships and connections by just disappearing from them because i didn’t know how to say that things were difficult for me or because i didn’t want to hurt the other party. but instead i end up disappointing them, and making them feel worse about me because all it came to be was me being someone who had no sense of responsibility. 

‘you have no responsibility’, it seems petty but those words have been stuck in my head since the day you said them to me so nonchalantly. maybe i just felt angry because it felt like i couldn’t dispute them. i only know how to pretend to be the things i wasn’t, i didn’t really know how to change who i was deep down inside. maybe, it was learning that you probably felt the same way as everyone else did about me, that i could really never be branded as more than someone who was lazy and irresponsible. 

i never really knew when that came true, maybe me giving excuses to myself because of how i grew up was just me hiding from the ugly truth - i am just lazy and too stubborn to really admit that to myself. no point, really, pretending to be something i wasn’t. i never really stopped making things harder for myself, things like that can’t be explained away. 

i’m sorry to everyone i have disappointed because i’m a coward. i really always am. why do i just keep taking advantage of people’s kindness towards me? 

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the list of things

if i woke up and forced myself to be better would it work? that i’d stop fluctuating between two extremes and i learn to be actually okay? i sleep on time, i wake up on time and i do the things i’m supposed to. seems like it shouldn’t be difficult and yet it always feels so much harder than it should be. 

i look at life like it is not mine, this weird third person perspective of things happening to me instead of me actually doing something about it - that i don’t actually feel a sense of urgency to do something about things or that i am filled with so much urgency that i don’t know how to get pass it. 

what do i mourn when i cry, why do i even cry in the first place? nothing actively bad happens and yet my heart is constantly heavy. who am i carrying this burden for? why is it so hard for me to let go of it? 

i would like to understand myself, i would like to know what is fundamentally missing from within me to always feel like something is wrong. to constantly feel like i’m always on the edge of losing all control. i look into the abyss and the abyss looks back. sometimes it feels a little too inviting really, to just stop trying. 

but i cannot or at i least i think i should not. then again maybe i just have an inflated sense of self, would it matter? the world moves on without you, the sun still shines if you are not here. i always thought i’d grow out of it, this unbearable emotions, but i think it has been part of me for too long for me to know how to get rid of it.

kinda cringe to be depressed as an adult huh 

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susah

life is an upsetting cycle of trying and failing, of trying and feeling, of trying and hurting. why is it always so hard to just be okay? even when i look back at the things i did get through it feels like it was not worth it. i don’t want to keep feeling terrible or less than or not good. everything just genuinely feels not worth the trouble anymore. i would like to be a jellyfish

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また逢う日まで。

only for yu

i don’t think i know you very well. or whether this constitutes as a breach of privacy in some sense. but i’m talking to an empty audience anyway, and i think that should be somewhat allowed.

i never really knew where i stood with you- friends? just someone you talked to to pass the time? some kind of sign that your past life did happen?

but it always bothered me, to not really know you or understand how you thought. the more i thought i knew, the less i think i did. you’ve complained about how it seems like everyone expects too much of you, and i guess i tried to pretend that that didn’t include me. 

from the start i always knew that i was not special/important to you - at one point i wished i was i think. but i grew out of that feeling because of all the other things i learnt about you. i realised that who i got to talk to was not the same person everyone else talked to. 

that you tended to become a nasty person to whoever tried to get too close. i wasn’t sure where that placed me in your hierarchy of people - was i okay because i never pried too deep? was i okay because i was just easy and fun and free? 

i’ve never really thought my expectations of friendship, of honesty and openness in the way you approached me was too much. but i think i realised that maybe it was. it is/was hypocritical of me to expect that of you when i tended to play dumb about what i heard from other people. 

what is closeness when there is so much facade placed between two people? that there are things that i will probably never know or learn about you because apparently closeness is defined much too differently by the both of us. 

it’s not like i’m not thankful, i am. i’m happy to think that you tried to show me the best sides of yourself or at least parts of you that were more pleasant to be around. it is probably why i feel the sadness i do, to try and separate myself from all this before it gets just a little too much for either of us. 

i’m sorry if it was unfair of me to just decide on my own terms to step away the way i did, without as much as a proper explanation and instead it was just me saying what i wanted and leaving. i think i tried my best to be someone who was supportive and i think that the best way i could support you is probably just from a little further instead. 

i promise that i am always an open line if you need me, that i can be a listening ear with no judgement but it takes two hands to clap, it’s whether you feel like you could trust me enough to actually talk to me. 

thank you for the memories, i’m glad you gave me the opportunity to get to know parts of the real you. 

maybe it is not that i don’t care about you but that i am afraid to care about you too much 

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i love you

in the way that i worry about the things you say, in the way that i think of you, in the way that i always hope the best for you. 

in the way that i know that i cannot be the one most important person in your life, in the way that i want to carry all your hurt for you, in the way that i would give all my happiness to you in a heartbeat. 

people might call it dependency but it is love, i swear it is love. it is a love so deep that i am not sure that i can live without it, that i could be okay without knowing that you are safe. it is a love that makes me want to see you grow old and happy, it is a love that protects me from myself. 

it is a love that makes me want to be better, braver and stronger. it makes me want to protect you from everything, that i truly wished i could be so much more for you. i want to be able to hold your hand through your happiest moments and be a shoulder to cry on when it is not as good or okay.

you are so brave and strong and capable, you are all the good things that make life worth it, you are and always will have the biggest portion of my heart. 

i hope that this next phase of your life will be good. i hope that you are the kind of happy that makes your cheeks hurt. you are the love i’ve learned to accept for myself and you are the kind of love i hope i am lucky to have in all my lifetimes. 

thank you for loving me as much as you do, thank you for teaching me what love is, thank you for letting me love you. 

i love you.

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future nostalgia

sometimes i wonder if i would miss walking that path on the bridge next to you, or whether i would have ever passed through it without getting to know you. maybe i would miss our walks, or the way your back looks while you’re doing work. maybe i would miss the way you try to make me laugh when i’m sad or how you listen to me so seriously when i talk about what hurts me. 

there are some things i know i will miss so badly. 

but then i start thinking about everything that hurts - the way that i sometimes feel a buildup of nausea in my stomach from how much it physically hurts to be around you and feel so lonely. maybe calling any place (anyone) home was always bound to make it feel like loneliness. do i expect too much of you? maybe. does that mean i should expect less? probably not. sometimes people are too much like jigsaw pieces, if we don’t fit then it just hurts to force it. 

i can’t say that i hate you, even when there are nights i can feel my heart hurting because of how much i yearn to be loved. maybe it is because i love you that it hurts the way it does. if i had truly stopped caring i think the tears would have stopped by now. some nights it feels like my heart is breaking so loudly that the silence in the room seems to be filled, but it might just be the thumping in my chest and the tears on my face that makes things feel just a little bit too much. 

i wish i could make you love me the way i want (need) to be loved. i wish that the way you loved was the way i want (need) to be loved. i wish that when you told me you love me more than i know that i could feel it (trust it). i wish that it would stop hurting in my chest when i think about how things could (should) be. 

i know that i lack so much and that maybe that is why. but these days i just wish i could be loved as who i am and not who i could be or who i no longer wish to be. maybe we are just not meant to be happily ever after.

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ikea furniture & changing the essence of who i am

feeling manic is not unfamiliar to me but somehow i feel even more intensely to try and be a different person - i want to improve, to reform, to distance. i keep trying to run elsewhere to try and be different but all i feel now is that maybe, i should, instead start from the root. i can trim everything all i want but if i don’t actually check the core, everything’s going to come out rotten anyway. 

i don’t know why i doubt it so deeply but i feel like things won’t come out the way i want it to - that i’d still find some fault in the way things are. but i want to change. and i guess that’s better than not trying. i hate how fresh things feel and how unbearable it gets at times to look at all the things i lack (at all the things i could do better in) but i want to try, i yearn to be better so badly. 

i doubt things can get solved with a haircut and 800 dollars worth of furniture but it is a start and a risk that i am willing to take. i will look at things down the barrel and be brave for myself. 

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not the same / as it was

I recently rediscovered this blog (in one of those moments where I decide that I want to look back on the past) - and I thought, why not, start it back up again? 

I’m not too sure what I want to share on here anymore, or what I have to share with the world, in a space where barely, if anyone, would see it: but maybe it’d be nice to do this again. I don’t really know where my love for writing went, or whether it actually disappeared - it’s not as if I stopped writing altogether. I very much still keep a journal and write my (godawful) thoughts down from time to time.  But maybe, it would be nice, to try and say it out loud again. (Again, out loud is subjective - I suppose.) I’m not used to this just yet but a recap, of what the two years of radio silence was like would be nice: 

1. I’m back on my weeb bullshit, be it Vtubers, anime & the like - I like 2434 and I especially enjoy a certain mafia man and a certain VSF guy. 

2. I’m still friends with (most) of the people I was friends with at the point of the start of this blog. I’ve made new friends in the span of time since then. 

3. I’m still -

4. I’ve made many more expensive mistakes since, some of them that I do not dare say aloud, on the off chance that I regret saying them into existence in a permanent format. 

5. I’m trying my best - to be a person, to get better really. I can’t say that I’ve become a much better person but I think the main point is that I’ve really been trying and that is a testament in and of itself.

6. Disappointingly, there are many things that have stayed the same that I wished had improved by the last two years. But sometimes the things that have been the same for 22 years can’t really be undone in 2. (Although I wish they could be.) 

7. At the root of it all though, it’s been a work in progress. Even with all the things I wish I could improve on and all the things I wish I had changed, I think being hard on myself would be one of the worst things I could do right now. Instead, I’ll be grateful for all the good things that came and for all the good things that stayed.

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If anyone is still reading, I’m okay.

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pls go away