24 February, 2019


i’m not in school for the third time in my life. big deal, i should be used to it by now.

but i’ve had all the time i need to dissect my behavior for the past few years, past jobs, friendships, relationships.

i am becoming hyperaware of what i do to spend my time, and i am in full panic mode because i don’t feel progress. like SHIT!! i’m supposed to be doing a lot MORE!

i have two journals open in front of me, a magazine published in 2016, the cranberries playing in the background, a cup of now-cold tea next to me.

it gets scary when the things that comforted me doesn’t do the job it’s expected to do anymore.

but yesterday, i had a sudden urge to dig up this one song that i used to play on one of those apps that lets you download music for free. it reminded me of my usual path home, when i used to secretly smoke. it was raining. it was june.

i’m frantically searching for ways to feel sane. and i feel like i’m overlooking what i need to be looking for.

i always expect something for myself and maybe that’s whats so damaging.

i want to be the home i go back to for myself. i want to be able to comfort myself. i don’t want to be so mean to myself. i don’t want to think that this is a piece of shit writing because this is real and everything i feel. i don’t want to feel like i have to prove something to someone. i want to be doing me and being proud of it. i don’t want to feel like i have to adjust for others. i want to be friends with myself again because i haven’t been in a very long time. i’ve lost that connection over the course of this past couple of years. or maybe we weren’t friends in the first place.

i have a terrible relationship with myself.

i’m never honest with who i am. i shape-shift to fit in with others. i’ve done it for such a long time that i forgot how to even let myself be authentic in front of me.

there’s a constant mask.

there’s always a way that i’m supposed to be doing something.

being authentic was a lot of work because i felt i had to compromise with other people. i never learned how to be honest unapologetically because i was afraid of hurting someone in the process, when the sacrifice in that was myself.

now, according to my culture, i’m expected to be considerate of others. but its come to the point where i’m cutting off parts of myself where it doesn’t fit into this mold i’m expected to be in.

i’ve been in environments where this is encouraged, and i seemed to fight it with every cell in my being. however, ironically, it has seemed to become a default mindset somewhere along the way.

somehow, i’m trying to find every way in order for me to be a little closer to what i want others to see me as, killing bits of myself in the process.

perhaps the reason why i look to myself in 2017 is because thats when i thought i was the most authentic to myself.

i’m sick of how saturated media is, and how i still feed off of it. when was the last time my thoughts and desires weren’t controlled by pixels? i learned to identify with what the world seems to think. “i’m opinionated, i know what to think.”

signing off




im used to goodbyes at the airport; this time, im the one leaving my home.

im finally away from everything i have subconsciously consumed myself into.

as soon as i enter the gate, i feel chains on my feet. everything drains out on me all at once. i cant smile.

ive been trying so hard to make myself understand that this is going to become my reality.

ive been trying to make myself feel the pain i thought i had deserved to feel.

i feared it multiplying in intensity, only to haunt me later on. better to get it over with, right?

id been searching for the pain that didnt need to exist in the first place.

sitting in my new room, a strange space, i felt familiar thoughts rush into my brain, translating into ink on paper.

these thoughts are what i find true value in.

id been unable to access it through the thick smoke of inauthenticity and dishonesty i had unknowingly accumulated throughout my life in structure, control.

this was me realizing the fear i had of pain.

i stepped out of the airport.

the first air i breathed,

first thing i smelled,

were perfume and cigarettes.