- The cold brings a certain kind of brightness and clarity to everything; it almost heightens and elevates all of the senses. I’m beginning to really appreciate the sun, the moon, and the stars even more.
- Running into you today was quite shocking. Unexpected, really. It’s funny how things don’t really change much on the surface, but so much of the change occurs under it. You still smell of the same cologne that used to draw me in. Your hand clasping my hand for a warm grip reminded me of this mug that I used to have, it felt like home, but I threw it out. You don’t smile at me much anymore.
- I can see you staring at me, wanting to peer into my soul. I just wonder what it is that you’re thinking.
- The leaves are crunchy.
- You can either choose to love somebody or choose to let them go.
- I think I’m growing used to you letting go of me. It hurts a lot because you used to hold onto me so tightly, wanting me to stay with you for forever - but now, I’m not so sure. I say my goodbyes hoping you would stop me from sleeping alone, from my heart growing colder and colder, but things have changed. Is it the feelings? The loss of infatuation? The feeling of growing comfortable with each other? The taking each other for granted? All I know is that it wasn’t like this before. You used to want to cover me with your warmth and love, no matter if it means that you were getting bit and burned by my sharp tongue and harshness. You used to call my name nonstop, letting my phone ring endlessly, choosing to extend and open up yourself towards me. And, for once in my life, I thought that I was slowly warming up to the fact that I could stop slashing at everyone and let you inside of my soul - but I guess that this has all gone to waste in the end anyways. Now you say goodbye as easily as sand slips between the fingers.
- Maybe we should let each other go.
My body refuses to go to sleep tonight… Today is going to be absolutely exhausting - mentally and physically.
Nothing ever lasts. Everything is a different version of something. You can’t possibly stay stagnant - there are two ways, either up or down.
I think that this feeling of being incomplete and dissatisfied with everything that I have done in my life and who I have become have all been correlated towards this one thing that I have recently been struggling with (the most): I don’t know what I want to do with my life anymore. I used to have this burning passion that kept growing, growing, and growing - for knowledge, for wisdom, for understanding, for more of an improvement on my writing, and for every single book in this world to be crammed inside of my brain… But, now? Now, all of these things are barely existent.
It’s strange to say that I have never felt this sensation before. This feeling of not knowing what I want to do with these many skills and assets that I, hopefully, have. I always thought that I was the lucky, one-in-a-million girl who figured out since the age of six years old what she wanted to do with her life. The one who continuously worked up her appetite for literature until her current age of twenty - but now that this has all evaporated… What now?
Completely unrelated, but… How do you have the ability to romantically love somebody else when you haven’t even fully developed as a person yourself - somebody who loves your own self. I guess the heart wants what the heart wants. Maybe we’re all just selfish, even when we try not to be (for the sake of wanting to feel generous). Everybody has a motive for doing something, right?
I’m sorry to all of you who have been constantly messaging me - the ones who I haven’t been replying back to and the ones who have been begging me to write again. I don’t know when I’ll be able to write on here, as consistently as I used to, but I’ll hope that that time will be soon. I’ve been in the midst of attempting to sort out my life (once again) and I felt that I needed to shut off everything that had been distracting me. Tumblr was one of them, especially because so many people I knew somehow found this blog of mine and have been making such a big deal out of it; it wasn’t my outlet anymore.
But in regards to figuring out what has been going on in my life, my mind has been feeling sorely disjointed and ajar - a lot has been changing. Who I am, what I like, what I feel, and what I am choosing to do with myself have all been shifting. I don’t appreciate the same things that I used to. The way that I listen, speak, and think about things have all been morphing towards a direction that I have no idea what that is. Hopefully this is all for the better, but… Lately, it has been so immensely discomforting to realize that I am trying to adapt into this new body and this new mind[set].
To those still reading, to those who have been going back to read my old posts to like or to reblog, please be patient with me and thank you for always being so positive.
My insomnia is back and it’s worse than ever before. I keep pushing everyone away from me because I have these seemingly immovable thorns and spikes on me that will only end up hurting them if they get too close. I’d rather be by myself than with anybody else, although most of the times that’s all just a lie. My heart keeps pounding, throbbing, and aching with this unbearably awkward and miserable pain. My head hurts. My chest hurts. My eyes are bleary. I feel like I have this shortage of oxygen and my panic attacks are starting to come by more frequently now, at the most inconvenient of times. I’ve been clean for almost two years now, but, these days, I can feel myself struggling just to get by. I can almost feel the blade in the drawer of my room tempting me, calling to me. This is like running in circles all over again. Maybe I’m just chasing my own tail.
But, I’m trying to stay the bright candle that I’ve always envisioned myself to be. I’m trying to be strong. I’m slowly getting back into my books and writing, so at least there is that positive thing.
Cheers to pre-semester woes.
I’m feeling one of those 4:56 A.M pains right now - the one where your heart shrivels up, crumples, and slithers down through the chutes to your empty stomach like a dead body slumped, sliding, and slipping against a paint-chipped wall that almost taunts the chip on your shoulder. It’s just a hunch, but something tells me that this can’t be simply remedied with warm cups of earl grey tea or a thrilling book to divert my attention elsewhere. No, this hurts and runs much deeper than what it seems.
Years old receipts with faded ink, smudged with grease stains from various restaurants with distant friends. Rusted friendship bracelets and dusty rubber wristbands honoring the many clubs that I had joined throughout those middle school and high school days that now seem so far away and faded. Collections of unsent letters. Crumpled up notes passed around during my classes, indulging in the thrill of never getting caught by the teacher, and disintegrating napkins from my mother with no more than a sentence, telling me to enjoy my day.
All of these, and more — I have thrown out.
The old me would have been stupefied and stunned.
I’m still not sure if I feel better or worse, for accepting to let go of what has happened and for who I have become right now - because I’m not sure if I like who I am. Sometimes I feel like I’m walking in somebody else’s bag of bones and skin. It’s uncomfortable, disheartening, and alien.
I remember when I used to read books for hours, pour over the pages, inspect them over and over again, read in between the lines, and revel in the sheer beauty of them because they are so much more than black letters, constructed sentences, and bound paper pages. I remember when I used to go outside much more frequently, marvel in the suffocating embrace of nature, and enjoy stretching my muscles and ligaments to their fullest extent.
All these things I have been remembering recently, but it frightens me that I had forgotten about everything that had encased my entire being along the many crusted years. Where is that fuel that fired up my soul, that passion that ignited my heart, and the same thing that made me hunger for more of life?
I’m in this phase where I can’t understand how you are so bad for me, yet so good. It’s like, every single time that our eyes strike, I’m sipping on my favorite whiskey; you intoxicate me, you give me that warm buzz, and you make me want more than just a couple of sips, but I know that I shouldn’t. I honestly shouldn’t even be ten feet near you. Sometimes I wonder if I’m going mental because there’s this magnetic pull that draws me towards you — not so much that it makes it extremely obvious that I want to be near you constantly, but just enough to make me go mad with these fantastical imaginative scenes that my brain conjures up.
You excite me with these little things that you don’t normally show towards other people because you act like you’re so goddamn heartless and emotionless all the time. (I guess that’s why the effect is that much greater and that’s why I remember so deeply with my heart and not just with my mind.) Those rare moments where you’re pinching or tugging on my cheek with your thumb and index finger with a gentleness that you never reveal to anybody. The way that you pat, pet, and caress the top of my head, all the way down, almost to my neck, smoothing out my hair - as if you have already known that that comforts me and that I love it. And that one, firm pat on my back that gives me such a weird sense of happiness, almost an ecstasy, of knowing that you are satisfied with me and with whatever I have done.
This all coming from you who has never shown anything but apathy and indifference - somebody who I once severely disliked, with you probably having the same feelings towards me too… But now - wow, have things drastically changed.
Your eyes light up when I see you and the way that you try to hide your smile by smirking or by putting me down with harsh words makes me feel so childishly giddy. Something has changed between us and I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the way that I feel towards you and maybe I’m just making everything up in my head, but… It’s still different than before. A good kind of different.