benzo buzz.

sometimes, things just work out in a way that you never really expected it to. maybe you're not particularly happy with the outcome, but it's an outcome anyway. none of this is particularly profound but while coming back from school, i felt calmer than i've felt in all of november and the things that led to my newfound peace weren't that pleasant but i'm glad they happened anyway.

as for not being able to keep up with the daily challenge, i forgot how rough novembers get. at least this year, winter decided to settle in early so its already dropping below 15°! and the cold does wonders for grief!

also i think im developing a strong dependency on my medicines which is not good for my already weird state of mind. 

its starting to feel more like a benzo bummer.

twirling.

my only achievement today was learning how to twirl a pen. 

my next step will be a coin. 

sadly i'm not in the mental state to come up with something pretentious enough for this blog so this is a true filler! 

have a lovely day. 

situation vacant.

post vacant: looking for humanity.

minimum salary: two eggos.

contact by 4am.  

plot twist.

if i were to say i didn't feel like i was imploding last night, i'd be lying.

truth is, i haven't felt hurt that intensely since maybe last year but it's starting to feel like emotions that knock me back into place is a reoccurring theme every november and december. 

suffice it to say, i did not have a good night. 

for what reasons, i can't explicitly say but i may just have to get "distance" tattooed somewhere i can read it easily. consolation, i realized, is such utter nonsense. 

what is consolation compared to the truth of the matter? consolation is a safety net maybe, a little way to numb the after-effects but god, it's such nonsense. 

all of it is. 

someone else.

if i were to switch us around, i'd be scared.

what are all of those papers for? 

is there something on my face?

maybe you don't mean to, but it's not hard to be mean-spirited. 

a little mismatch of words, a misstep in conversation- an allusion to an underlying truth. 

there's forty four lines to say and i'm part of thirty 

so i've hidden the rest in my suit. 

talking of suits, i can see you tomorrow

maybe i'll sit a little away, i'll take off my glasses and blur everything in between 

tapping feet, warm seats- a classroom has never felt this cold  

appetite.

i'm too exhausted to wax poetic about something ordinary that happened today but i did figure out how deeply rooted my jealousy issues are today and i really should work on it. 

life is short. kiss their hand if you want to. 

a guide to feeling better.

-you're allowed to feel bitter

-you're allowed to feel angry about feeling bitter

-maybe stare at the wall catatonically, like an avant garde model. 

-pride is subjective.

-go to sleep, everything's easier in the mornings. 

telltale signs youre in love.

-looking at them for more than a few seconds is near impossible.

-there are voices everywhere. you dont hear them.

-sometimes, you'll look up. you'll meet their eyes and you cant help wondering how long they've been looking at you. 

-the room is dipped in ochre. they walk in and laburnums seep through the walls. 

-you won't cough up flowers. blood is more likely.

-god, when did your pulse get so loud?

glitter.

it would have been wise of me to line up a few drafts for the nights i feel particularly sleepy but as i've proved time and again, i am the farthest thing from wise and i must derive some subconscious pleasure from challenging myself to such odd lengths; seeing as i have barely had the time nor the motivation to upload a post more than once or twice a month.

i was hoping i'd turn the tides with november.

regardless, today was a very good day. i saw a few of my friends and had no homework to complete (or i like to tell myself that) so apart from an ache splitting up the left half of me, i was pretty relaxed all day- a very pleasant change from the run of the mill stress we encounter daily.

its all about the silver linings, i guess.
im clocking out for another 24 hours.

a different kind of trap.

recovery is a scary process.

i knew a person who was afflicted with the same illness- same medicine, same psychiatrist, same situation. after he shifted out of the country he seemingly got better, his social media came back to life again and conversations with him didnt feel so heavy anymore.

it took around two years for him, of which one was spent trying to pass out of highschool and the other, trying to get admission into colleges. i was in ninth grade at the time, two months into my course and i wondered if it would go that way for me too

two years later and things are falling into place!

matter of fact is nothing is as easy as it looks and even though it sounds like utter nonsense, sometimes recovery is almost harder than living with the illness itself. 

oddities.

time has never felt as unreal as it does now.

it seems like i should be used to the flow of time by now; after all, i have been around for sixteen years doing various things that perhaps contributed to the shaping of my subsequent years but the years start coming and they dont stop coming after all.

the last twenty days have been particularly weird. i've done so little yet so much? in other words, if i were to expel the same amount of energy i've expelled during these few days on homework, i would've finished a month's worth of sociology questions (to scale, that is q u i t e a few math problems)

maybe in some twisted way, i am used to it; my tolerance for the elasticity of time just changes occasionally (however time is not elastic- only our perception of it is- it is a measurable, fixed entity, the only thing making it elastic is my very primitive limbic system. that is not to say the limbic system controls the perception of time, it simply controls my emotions that influence my perception of time. does the day not feel longer when you're miserable?)

but all i mean to say is i've watched way too many of ilyx's videos today and i'm grasping for straws. 

non-commital nanowrimo.

have i gone a little bit mad to think i can pull off writing a post every day of november? 

perhaps.

its only the first day and im cutting it close with ten minutes to spare. hopefully, this month won't be as stressful as every other but this could also be a classic case of famous last words. 

speaking of famous last words, my only source of amusement this weekend has been seeing all of the ex-alternative people who have long since grown out of their emo phase absolutely losing it over my chemical romance's unexpected reunion. to be fair, i was a little shocked myself. one of the artists i follow on instagram dug out an mcr tee from her middle school days just to actualize her nostalgia. it was sweet. 

another person started posting a slew of frank iero sketches mere minutes after the original reunion post went up. i also spent a solid hour reading through the comments under that post; there was some dark stuff in there.

5 minutes to go till the second day!

i have officially pledged myself into this challenge. 

hope everyone had a fun halloween. 

update is an ugly word pt.3

last year, i went through the effort of changing the blog background to pumpkins to commemorate the spooky season.
this year i became an actual ghost on this site. i will choose to interpret that as a very fitting disappearance.

but im still alive!
just barely though, october was a rough month.

i spent a stressful week in france, i lost my uncle, i took part in an interschool competition, i wrote and got back the results of my first terminals. it was busy, to say the least.

i picked up a habit of writing a daily letter to someone very close to me. i also managed to rush through eight seasons worth of anime in a week. i got my room repainted, rearranged all my furniture and procrastinated hanging up all the pictures and decor that was up before. i spent the last two days flat in bed, not because of a physical or mental hindrance or anything, simply because i wanted to and it was becoming more and more apparent that if i didn't catch up on my sleep soon, i would end up in a very unfortunate situation.

sadly, all of this means i have been putting myself on the backburner. i got a harsh wake up call yesterday about my alleged harsh treatment of people and have since then decided to completely renovate the way i come off to people;  seeing as it is halloween, my costume for this year and the rest is to be a nice person.

"costume" doesn't imply i could just drop it whenever i wanted to, all it implies is that it doesnt feel natural yet, similar to how some people feel wrong dressing up as an angel. maybe that will change eventually, only time will tell.

october ends in half an hour. im glad its over, this month was easily one of the worst in 2019. yet i cant help but feel a little regret at my complete lack of effort at trying to enjoy the first month of autumn. to be fair, i live in a country where temperatures dont drop below 30°c until november so it is hard to immerse myself into the autumn feel plastered all over the net. but i did have one pumpkin spice latte, so i did do something.

it doesnt matter now though; november shall treat me better (i am not relentlessly optimistic)

fourth dimension.

we are not separate from what we learn.

you are witnessing the waxing and waning of generations; every memory recorded, every sunrise captured, every bird watched, its in your hands. you are what you perceive but you're perceiving nothing. 

sitting in history class today i remembered an image i was fixated upon a few years back. unfortunately, i didn't possess the skills to draw it out nor was i proficient enough at writing that i could describe it the best it could. there are things you feel, things you know, things you imagine that are too complex- too ridden with emotion- to be translated onto anything else other than your consciousness. this was one of them. 

the image came back today, full detail, so vivid i could almost see it. my teacher was talking about the decline of the mongol empire. i was looking at people playing volleyball through the window. our class overlooks the school ground, we get to see all the people walking in, all the people walking out, every little movement. 

that is, if you weren't too busy being a good student or whatever. 

but while i was watching them play with an utter disregard for the rules of volleyball, i thought about all the visionaries that have existed throughout the course of history- be it, good or evil. mandela, genghis khan, kevin feige, henry ford, whichever charming british dude came up with the idea of colonizing half the world; a vision leads to great things, there's been no doubt about that.

i guess the real challenge is actually fleshing the thing out. 

my image, i guess it can't be called a vision as it is a singular scene- a really artistic gif, if you will-, has something to do with time blurring enough for the sun to become a single line through the sky. all the colors, all the stars, rotating and revolving so quick it looks like nothing but an ill-placed smudge. it's a common strand i find through all my daydreams, if you can call them that. the concept of time unraveling. it's hard to imagine a world without the time dimension, einstein would have definitely gone out of business but despite my brain being incapable of comprehending it, i wonder what it would be like to live through all of time at once. 

civilization after civilization, discovery after discovery, death after death, the rise and fall of empires, 

it's just a little blip when you look at the grand scale of things. maybe millions and millions of years from now, after the earth has slowed down enough to add an hour to the day, after we've probably blown all of mankind up over a petty war or after artificial intelligence has taken over, humanity can look back and resist the urge to recreate the chaos we've caused over and over again. they would resist the urge to live through history. 

we are not separate from what we learn, that is what my history teacher said to us today. it's not as if our current affairs aren't going to be studied by hordes of students in the distant future. perhaps that's where we're erring, who's to say we won't be forgotten the way exam schedules are? 

but then who's to say our place in history won't be remembered and thus studied with a burning urgency, the way exam schedules are remembered a week before the first test? 

time has always eluded me. we know nothing yet we progress like we know everything. 

i wish history witnessed us the way we witness history. 

it's the miasma of humanity. 

aching to live. 

aching to witness. 

not channeling bill wurtz.

ever since i discovered ''history of the entire world, i guess'' i've had this unhealthy obsession with bill wurtz and his social media presence. i think i spent a solid hour once analyzing his tweets, trying to look for the meaning of life because if there's one man that knows it, it's probably him.

he also hasn't monetized his youtube channel, which is admirable in itself but when you go to the questions sections (say that five times) of his blog, he doesn't even acknowledge it when people ask about it. i was so intrigued by his personality that i also read through all of the notes that he has uploaded on his blog trying to understand him. honestly, i still can't figure it out.

or let's occam's razor it, this dude just really likes music.

but that's not why i'm writing this. i decided to sign up for adsense today. perhaps i watched a few too many videos of people showing off their rare collections of bags and shoes and stuff that i can do without- but there's a reason greed is one of the seven sins- and i decided, being a sixteen year old with no job living in a country where it's illegal for teenagers to get a job, i should try to find a way to make some money.

maybe i'll save up; make it a little easier on my parents whenever the time comes for paying college tuition fees. or maybe i'll give in to my base desire to open packages. who knows? that's what really scares me about having my own money.

but while i was typing in my address details and everything for the adsense account, all i could think about was bill wurtz not monetizing his channel.

but by far, the thing that troubles me the most is when you go to look up "is bill wurtz-" the top result is "is bill wurtz ok"
and that is truly intriguing.

bill wurtz, are you ok? 

ink.

i had a project the whole of 2016-2017 that reached up to 80,000 words and 186 pages. eventually i stopped it because i realized i wasn't smart enough to tackle topics like schizophrenia without coming off as ignorant. but the hours i spent into reading documents upon documents about it, i cant even begin to tell you. 

the other day i found the file again. i tried reading the first few chapters but i honestly couldn't get through it. it was the equivalent of finding a painting you did as a five year old a decade later. not to say that my writing has improved very much but i'm kind enough to myself to admit i wouldn't cringe as much reading this blog when i'm 25 and regretful. 

maybe i might pick it up again. maybe i'll rewrite the whole thing. 

maybe.

patience.

it is a very public fact that i have a short temper. it doesnt take long for me to fume and unleash all my rage on the keyboard but in spite of that fact, i only have very few things that annoy me enough to  get me mad.  but to be fair, i have been in one of the worst moods for the last three days or so; the stress of falling sick before a flight coupled with pre-school jitters is its own special cocktail. the point being, perhaps i wouldn't have gotten so annoyed today but it is what it is.

i learnt that being asked to curb my sense of humor for the sake of another's fragile ego infuriates me to no end. and i shouldnt have to say it in this day and age when jokes and sarcasm make up most interactions, but unless the joke demeans a race/nationality/belief/anything of the sort, getting offended by it is in no way the other person's fault.

i learnt offense is born out of insecurity. at least it is sometimes.
that wasnt a particularly profound statement but it warrants explanation because somewhere, somehow, someone is going to read this and feel singled out.
but am i going to explain it? no.
 if the shoe fits, wear it i guess.

i learnt it is not obvious enough that i make sense of the things i am not good at by poking fun at it (such are the perils of being a burnout student). i never have a problem with the people who are good at aforementioned thing but i do have a problem with the thing itself which is a feeling i am allowed to have.

and as i type this i can feel that white hot anger simmer at my fingertips but coincidentally, i also learnt people don't like hearing the truth.

my patience hasn't been tested in this way in so long.
but at least i didn't snap at anyone.
and for that, i deserve to be happy. 

childhood toys.

the city is crying at our dismissal. 

maybe i won't come back next year. only time will tell. 

the sunside project.

summer is painful.

its the first day of august as i write this (or, well, the last twenty minutes of the first day) and i've found myself obsessively checking my instagram story archives to see where i was at this point last year. in 2018, on august 1st, i was on a flight back home and absolutely dreading school.
now, i have a flight tomorrow to one last place before i fly home and i'm not dreading school as much as i was back then.

improvement? perhaps.

i had a conversation with a friend today, it got me thinking about the plain duality of summer. the stress of holiday homework along with some expectations about relaxing; it truly messes with you in its own special way. i could relate very strongly with  him. when i took up humanities i failed to realize the amount of theory that goes into each subject and with that, comes an ungodly amount of writing (which i havent been able to complete yet).

when its nearing the end of the first semester and the internet is flooded with tweets about the summer holidays, it's almost as if the insane amount of stress that comes along with such a long break goes unacknowledged- which is fine, live and let live. but now that we're almost at the end, the pain of reverting back to normality pricks everyone in the back and it's total anguish.

summer is a treacherous liminal space that holds its own position when it comes to making people feel slightly unsettled.

i adore you, summer, emotions wouldnt run rampant if it werent for you. 

seventy five page odyssey.

stress comes in the form of a white folder divided into five subjects and a crinkly packet of hundred a4 ruled pages. also, switching pens between assignments isnt fun. 

down with the traditions.

let's be honest. sometimes i spend a solid half an hour looking for a quote that fits the post but i can't keep doing that and my resolve has been worn down now; partially because it's 4:30am but mostly because i can't have goodreads making up 30% of my search history.

speaking about history, i have a history project worth 40% of my grade due in two months and i'm pretty sure starting it at dawn wasn't a good idea but the one tradition i'm not willing to break is my horrible study routine. i've been reading the same three pages over and over and the sentences merge into one sometimes and guess what! i need to re-read the paragraph again!

why am i not going to sleep?
good question.

i woke up at four pm today. i fell back asleep at seven and woke up again at nine pm. therefore in the last twenty four hours, i've been asleep for eleven. no point in trying to sleep now.

so in a surge of productivity. i cracked open my history reader. got my highlighters out, put my phone away and to go the extra mile, i opened up a new tab just so i could look up the topics i wanted to elaborate on in my report.

and then i opened the reader.

it's almost as if my brain isn't massively confused as to where it is due to my ever-changing sleep schedule! gotta keep it on its toes.

calling back to going down with traditions, i told myself before starting the new school year i would stay on top of all my work during the summer break, even if that meant having to stay in a few more days than usual, because isolation is a small price to pay for the reward of no stress.

normally, i rush finishing my summer assignments in the last week of the break. i wasn't gonna do that this time. perhaps my favorite thing about my new school is the extra month of summer vacation i get. but suffice it to say, while i have done pretty well, i haven't kept up with my schedule which demotivates me a little bit.

this blogpost was pure procrastination. time to twirl my highlighters around.

update is an ugly world pt.2

"only time can heal what reason cannot"
                     -seneca


i know! i've been gone a month! i pulled a daniel howell but at a lesser degree. but i haven't come back with any mind blowing news so i'm sorry to disappoint.

basically, i just took an unintentional hiatus. and i may still not come back but i felt like it being the last day of june, i should at least have one entry posted in its name.

i've learnt how to cycle.
i can play comptine d'un autre amelie after three days of non stop practice.
i picked up watercolors again, my set just arrived a few days ago, in fact.
i also travel for the vacations in eight days.

i'm doing well.

informed melancholy.

"all truth passes through three stages. first, it is ridiculed. second, it is violently opposed. third, it is being accepted as being self-evident"
                              -arthur schopenhauer

the truth to everyone else is that i have done well. perhaps they're in the third stage and i'm stuck in a limbo between the first and second stage. the fact remains that i cannot change anyone's mind and they cannot change mine.

when yourself and your brain seem to work as two separate entities, it gets hard to live the bloomer lifestyle in a doomer-oriented world. but i'm gonna try anyway. when i found out my exam results are coming out tomorrow, i felt my heart sink.

two months ago or so, i wrote a post where i mentioned making it through if i do end up with less than satisfactory results. looking back at that time now, i should've known i'd have a whole panicfest for three days straight. i've been living with myself for nearly sixteen years. it's stupid how my parents know me better than i know myself.

but coming back to my point. i am not what my brain tells me. my brain likes being incessantly pessimistic no matter what the occasion. so what if it's a celebration. my brain thinks i didn't need one in the first place. therefore, i am not what my brain tells me.

when there's a disconnect between your brain and your consciousness, competing with yourself becomes redundant. i cannot beat my personal best if my personal best isn't even satisfactory enough for my brain. all those little neural impulses and conducts have convinced me i'm going to let myself down tomorrow. but my consciousness still pipes up saying, "hey! your past can prove you wrong! you're not wholly terrible"

but i know this, the vaguely humanistic perspective i've acquired because of the two most optimistic yet practical people i know is telling me i will be fine. someone else told me i'm going to be pleasantly surprised when i open my results tomorrow. i'm fighting against my own gut, but that's okay.
who needs an enemy when you've got a brain like mine? 

update is an ugly word.

"what's past is prologue"
          -william shakespeare, the tempest

can i be informal
i will be informal

last two weeks have been pretty great. today was rough but that's okay. a lot of people from my new school have seen this blog and i feel like there's something symbolic in that. nobody from my last school knew about this site.

endgame was good. not as sad as i thought it would be but i'm glad things went the way they did.

i haven't felt like writing in a while. so i'll see you all later. 

thought.

"ants shape each others behavior by exchanging chemicals. we do it by standing in front of each other, peering into each others eyes,  waving our hands and emitting strange sounds from our mouths. human to human."
            -chris j. anderson



you can stand in front of hundreds of people and recite a sonnet with perfect adherence to iambic pentameter but what's the payoff? maybe the feelings you've tied to those fourteen lines are monumental, they've carved the course of your life. but when you're standing there, words spilling out and hands gesturing midair, what's the payoff if nobody else perceives the emotion you're trying to convey?

in the second week of december, my psychiatrist scheduled my next appointment for april 10th. i considered it as a sort of checkpoint; a way to identify the first turning point in my life despite having several other reminders of my newly born displacement here and there. back then, april 10th seemed so far away. as march came to a close, i was still waiting for reality to set in. the moment has arrived. i've finally cut my hair, i've shifted schools, i've cut a few people off and i've resolved to change the way i look at things. the moment really has arrived.

if my life was a stage and the way i stumble through the different challenges shooting at me was my performance, then i haven't done a very successful job in translating my actions to whoever's judging me. where's my little placard showing me my score so far? have my weekly show and tells in primary school not paid off? if television depictions of horse racing are anything to go by then i should've been aware by now of how fortunate the bets i placed are. there's no payoff.

people can spit out their philosophy to me and i can surely dredge my way through them but at the end of it, i would be knee deep in filth and have nothing but a handful of good ideas. no payoff, just more application.

painted nails and perfume.

"one can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar"

                              -helen keller, story of my life   

 (i had to analyze this book for an exam i had a few days ago. its bittersweet)

find happiness in the smallest things. 

like singing along to demi lovato's heart attack and realizing you still remember all the lyrics and can totally belt out that chorus. 

or having a cup of coffee that overshadows all your previous failed attempts.

or getting a shuffle sequence on your playlist where all the best songs play in a row. 

its always the small things. 

purple prose.

"so many large words, as though syllables will hide the truth"
                                                         -sharon mock, she walks in shadows


bless horace for conceptualizing purple prose in ars poetica but i can't say im too fond of the criticism against it though, art is art.
if i wanna draw parallels between the fluttering of eyelashes to the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach with a bunch of adjectives thrown into mix, then let me do it.

in practice, i would never but i if i saw a whole paragraph describing the way the old wardrobe in the corner of an unused room creaks open for the first time in years, i'm gonna be immersed in it.

all i'm saying is, maybe there shouldn't be so many rules to things. it's just preference.
does art need gatekeeping?

going haywire.

"come tomorrow, ill wake up new"
           -chad sugg



i've been struggling a lot. i'm caught in quicksand and there's literally no rope strong enough to pull me back.

does that sound angsty? it's not though. i'm struggling because i literally cannot find a rope strong enough to hang some stuff from. not myself, actually, but there are wall hangings i have and every one of the ropes i have used so far have snapped halfway through the night. i don't wanna drill holes into the wall but at the same time, i'm getting real sick of getting woken up by the world map landing on my face.

but if i have to go deeper, i'm getting really worried about myself. i'm not progressing. if anything, i've gone back to the person i used to be in 2015 and i'm not too pleased about that. i decided to manifest this discontent by planning a feature wall in my bedroom but so far, there's nothing but fairylights and a poorly planned collage.

i've not been writing. not even nearly enough to classify writing as a hobby. i've rarely been drawing- i pushed myself to finish a skeleton themed spread today (as if i'm not trying too hard to be edgy already). i've not been looking for new music, i haven't touched my piano in god knows how long, all i've been doing is wasting away or wearing out the spines of my school readers from all the turning and folding.

suffice it to say, i've been having nightly freak outs about what i'm doing, what i'm not doing, and everything else in between. things are going too fast; we're running the risk of disintegration.

prozac poop-out.

"he wondered about himself (whether he was broken or special or better or worse)"
                                   -victoria schwab, vicious (villans #1)


im writing this on my phone so im not sure if it'll format the same but anyway, its midnight on a school night and tomorrow is kind of my personal judgment day. of course there will be bigger judgments in march and june, but for now tomorrow seems like a big enough to hurdle to cross.

i am, by no means, a weak student but there's something so incredibly terrifying about getting back exam results. im not sure how to fall asleep tonight. i wake up in five hours as well.
i went through all the effort of logging onto my blogger account on my phone just to vent a little i guess, this has become my corner where im almost anonymous. anonymity is comforting.

im listening to rm's mixtape on repeat just hoping itll calm my nerves. it seems kind of futile though, as im lying down in the dark, the restlessness is creeping back and i know its gonna be one of those nights again.

i have half a mind to stay up and get through tomorrow on the verge of collapsing; i wont be conscious enough to register whats happening. but then again, i dont have that kind of willpower.

lately ive been noticing some kind of return of all of my symptoms; i cant sleep, im binging on the most unhealthy food, and im so so disinterested in everything again. i cant even be bothered to make conversation with anyone. where did the spark go?
i dont even feel like sounding vaguely fancy- and that's saying something because  i always strive to be the most pretentious and annoying as i can be while writing. hence the title. i think its happening to me.

who'd have thought it'd happen exactly after a year? salipax, you break my heart. 

tangential thoughts.

"vengeance was one hell of a roommate"
                -j.r ward, dark lover

in scotland, circa 2006, a boy sat in his dorm room with the neck of his t-shirt between his lips with a notebook in his lap writing "mom, weed is awesome, im so sorry"

"im gonna come back now. im so sorry. i think its getting to me. i thought it wasnt, i swear it wasnt. i cant stay here now- have you seen the weather? gloomy as shit. the girls are all covered up too"

twelve years later, a girl sat in front of a doctor, neck of her t-shirt between her lips, trying to choke out words that made sense. he said its genetics.

"probably genetics?
''no,definitely genetics"

god, you little addict. you did this to me. 

conversations with a wannabe engineer.

"whether or not it is clear to you, 

no doubt the universe is expanding.

as it should"

    -max ehrmann, desiderata:a poem for a way of life

"of course, things are relatively different, but the real question is why do you do the things you do? why do you get up in the morning? things like that. they make you who you are, what you believe in"

"you never really have a concrete reason for getting up in the mornings, at least i dont, i guess looking for little things is enough sometimes"

"you can't really look at things with a big picture at all times. just imagine looking at a complex 3d structure and try to remember it. i doubt anyone can do that"

"the real geniuses can i guess, their brains are just wired that way"

"not really, at times, they are much more like us, i believe that they just happen to see the world differently, just like literature or anime. again, it's our free will and thought to look at things in a particular way"

"you ever heard of determinism?"

"no, i haven't. i also believe at the same time that equality doesnt exist in this world, at least not in the way i want it"

"read about it, i feel like thats the way the world works sometimes. the world sucks in that aspect, nothing is fair to anyone"

"equality in reality would involve limiting those who found an advantage in a system and exploited it, in fact, i believe that the ones with a disadvantage should go about using the innovation developed"

"yeah exactly, like mario kart. i feel like the world just wont progress until the lowest of the low get the rights others have and with the way the world's going, i doubt that's gonna happen anytime soon"

"just take economic inequality for example, those who earn a lot have done so at the expense of hard work. just tell me how do you expect them to go around accepting a reduced salary. that's practically selective slavery with no bonds"

clutching.

"but safety-like light-is a facade"

             -c.j roberts, captive in the dark

when i'm alone and the lights are off, there's something that makes my hands so restless that it could crush bones. i can't lie still without moving my legs every few seconds and while restless legs syndrome is still incurable, there's something to be said about falling asleep every night drenched in sweat with your duvet wrapped tight around you because that's your only solace in that dark, dark room.  

the overarching theory.

"i keep turning over new leaves and spoiling them,as i used to spoil my copybooks; and i make so many beginnings there will never be an end"

         -louisa may alcott, little women. 

it doesn't matter what you've done in the past 24 hours when what you're feeling starts becoming tangible. i don't know how it happens, sometimes you're lying down and it takes the shape of messed up sheets. or it could ruin your skin. sometimes it means pulling yourself up and washing away the thin layer of grime that's been stuck to your face for hours. in whichever form it manifests, there's no amount of distraction that can cover up the fact that things are slowly but surely changing. 

transitions are never easy. i remember, in eighth grade, i was sick of my frameless glasses so i switched to this chic pair of versace frames that have gold plating on the sides. i loved it. my friends told me i looked much better. but when i walked into class the next day, wearing different glasses for the first time, people laughed. 

"oh my god, why are you wearing nerd glasses?''

"hahahah you look really stupid"

but it was whatever, i needed a change. my classmates got used to my newer and bigger spectacles eventually and there were no more than left handed compliments every once in a while. i didn't mind it. 

but now, the change isn't material. it's like everything familiar has now been uprooted like the trees on my street and thrown about. i close my eyes and there are flashes of fear; fear of the unknown, of the untried, of the future. every night i switch off one of my fairylights before going to sleep, and it triggers an immediate reaction; there's just an unrelenting flow of doubt and hesitance but no matter how much i want things to stay the way they are, things will change soon. 

and there's nothing i can do other than to accept it. 

seventeen-reverse.

"a short story is like a quick kiss in the dark from a stranger"
                                    -stephen king, skeleton crew

when i was nine i didnt have a laptop of my own. understandable.
on friday afternoons, i'd sit at the head of the table where my dad's laptop is and spend a few hours on microsoft word writing god knows what. back then, i didnt know what bad writing was. everything i wrote was amazing and i honestly thought i'd get published at the age of ten and beat the guinness world record for youngest writer.

cut back to now, i spent this evening staring at my laptop wondering if i should give writing a shot again. i miss it. i miss coming up with concepts and managing to put it down on a document while sounding coherent. there's something so incredibly scary about actually writing a story; not just foreign snippets.

i remember coming up with a fantasy story. a girl finds herself in a world where creatures are controlled by some almighty mountain dweller that feeds on crystals. and if thats not weird enough, the creatures are some kind of gnome-dwarf hybrids. her quest was to travel to the mountain and beg the mountain creature for forgiveness for trespassing onto his world. upon getting his forgiveness, a wormhole would open up at the foot of the mountain which would bring her back to wherever she came from.

honesty, it sounds like a fun story. but as a nine year old i had no clue what wormholes were and what hybrids were (thanks ao3). so even if i cant really remember what exactly i had written. i bet it wasn't very good. that's not the point though. i didn't think it was bad while i was writing it. i thought it was the best story ever. pulitzer-worthy.

those were good days, i was the self proclaimed ruler of the world. i didn't know negativity. especially when self-aimed negativity. but right now, it's a perpetual wii swordplay showdown at midnight and those three-heart players seem to be coming at me with a vengeance.

exam season.

"finally, from so little sleeping and so much reading, his brain dried up and he went completely out of his mind"
 -miguel de cervantes saavedra, don quixote


my charger is bust open right where the wire meets the charger that connects to the phone. on either sides of it are helpless strips of electric tape. its pretty much how i'm feeling. what a stupid comparison.

i pretty much have the next two weeks off from school in the name of study leave. its only the end of day one and im already delirious. either im in bed wasting away or im sitting in front of my desk, staring at my notes somehow hoping all of the information just transfers into my memory (osmosis?)

remember that one episode of doraemon where he ate bread slices with the answers of his homework on it so he could remember all of it? that's for a niche audience but i cant think of a more relatable thing at the moment.

anyway, thats how im doing.

listen to chase atlantic's latest ep.

seventy seven.

"i feel half faded away like some figure in the background of an old picture"
                         -iris murdoch, a severed head



interest is a funny thing. it seems to drop when the outcome gives you a lot less satisfaction than you wanted. i talked to someone about it a few days back and they said the satisfaction didn't affect their interest in a particular thing. i kinda wish i had that quality.

i would kill for effortless intelligence. sometimes there seems to be no solid output to all of the effort i've seemingly put in and it's almost like karma is shaking you by the collar asking for spare change.
this has happened before; being less than the best. and i've dealt with it, i think i have.

but a lot more is riding on a satisfactory outcome nowadays than before. that's the pattern, i guess. the higher up you go in a system, the more weight your actions hold. 

i'll come back to this post exactly two months from now. i'm hoping i'll be happy with the results ive gotten over that time and if i'm not, i hope future me knows it'll work out, it always has. 

feeling bitter.

"and that the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that i may lose what i have now, and not find anything except loneliness"
              -sylvia plath, the unabridged journals of sylvia plath


there's a theme winding itself into everything i'm feeling nowadays. it's something i don't really feel all that often so when it comes to dealing with it, i'm at a complete loss. when i'm finding myself with nothing to do except look straight ahead, this wave of fear hits me. every time. for the past hour, i've been lying down and concentrating on the little specks of dust that found their way onto the ac vent and thinking about everything that's gonna happen over the next six months.

i'm feeling all types of things. i know somewhere deep down there's some kind of excitement at the prospect of the unknown but when i don't wanna dig down too deep, it's just layers and layers of apprehension and uncertainty. i don't wanna come up with some pretentious metaphor so i sound like some pretentious literary arts kid but pushing all things aside, i'm so so scared.

i'm leaving the school i've known for the past twelve years. i'm leaving many of my friends behind. as for the friends that are moving schools with me, i'm not even sure if they're gonna go through with it. someone i know has already chickened out. i'm leaving behind the reputation i've made for myself at school with the teachers, the students, the management. the fact that two months from now, i'm gonna be walking into a new place with classrooms of fifty people and not knowing anyone strikes pure terror in me.

it's not just that i guess. i've been preparing myself for this moment for the last three years so i'm not as bad as i thought i would be. but there's this persistent loneliness just gnawing away at me, and god, the last thing i want is to sound pretentious but feeling all of your friends drift away from you ruins you. i genuinely don't think i have a friend to go to anymore. everyone i used to be close to has become close to each other and all of a sudden, it's like i'm not part of it anymore. it's like stitching something that ends up not fitting you at the end. that was a bad analogy but it gets the point across.

i miss having a proper close friend. a friend i can turn to, online or in real life, without feeling a single doubt. i had that. i lost it, school came in and took me away, leaving me neck deep in stress and without time to reconnect. having to justify yourself for disappearing days at a time to your friends when you finally get some time to reach out gets tiring after a while. it leaves you wondering if it's even worth keeping in touch when you're gone 50% of the time. why hang onto someone who probably doesn't really wait for you to come back, right? 

i have a partner, and i am so grateful for that. i wouldn't trade it for anything; only thing keeping me going. 
but what's life without friendship?

a glimpse.

"and those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music"
                      -friedrich nietzche


the high point of pure tension is dancing to the 1975's 'be my mistake' in the bathroom, with a foamy toothbrush in one hand and the world in the other. 

1,2,3 action!

"i don't know anymore. i don't know, i don't know, god, i'm so tired"
              -francesca zappla, eliza and her monsters.



here's the deal; i'm the biggest drama queen i know. i will kick up a fuss for the smallest things if it causes me any inconvenience and despite being reminded of this trait of mine for years on end, i have not taken a single step towards changing it.

do i wanna change it though? maybe not. there's a lot of things i wouldn't have gotten if i hadn't thrown a tiny little temper tantrum here and there. but after the hundreds of hours spent sulking, there's one thing for which my displeasure is totally justified.

i don't like school. i have never liked it. the education part is fine but for the past two years, there's been no education; it's just a slurry of information that i will not need. my third round of exams start on tuesday. on that day, i have my science exam. the rational side of me wants to study every second of everyday but the drama queen in me is sitting in her plush recliner waving her hands in dismissal announcing "who needs that? you have skills!''

and who am i to disobey a queen?

one eighty three.

"ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation"
                                               -kahlil gibran



the quoted poet possibly has some of the most pretentious poetry ive read and ive read a lot of it. and the fact that i'm calling something pretentious must mean something but the quote is relevant so its fine.

but that's not why i'm here. i'm only on here when something's on my mind. i didn't mean to write anything tonight but a friend dropped by, said a little goodbye and left. i'm not gonna be able to talk to her for a while so it stings a little.

i didn't really realize how much she meant to me until she told me she's leaving. i fail to realize the kind of force people play in my life. i can say that i withdraw myself as much as i want but i spend way too much time talking to people even if it's not face-to-face. when they leave, i feel it the way i wouldn't feel it if i truly did withdraw myself from people the way i say i do. this doesn't have a point to it, i needed to put it in words though.

in the afternoon i was thinking of ditching social media like i've seen some of my friends do this year. i'm considering going through with it. if anything, at least i won't give this blog (i honestly don't know if i can call this a blog) up. when i'm long gone, i'm hoping this corner of the net will stay preserved. 

dawning.

"a person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn and not easily mended"
                                    -ian mcewan, atonement



the timestamp for the last two posts have probably been a little weirder than the others. i can explain this one; i thought pulling an all nighter was a good idea. i'd reset my sleeping schedule and i'd have extra time to prepare for my preboards, killing two birds with one stone. (feeding two birds with one scone @ peta are you happy)

even though i powered through my 4am slump, i can feel the 6am slump heavy on my eyelids, weighing my shoulders down and she's not taking no for an answer. it'd defeat the whole purpose though, if i fell asleep now.

anyway, lately i've been thinking about stress. who said lust is one of the lords of life? stress has me chained to my desk with a grip on my nose bending me down to books i do not want to read. the next four months are arguably the most important in my school life but it's not sinking in. the fact that it's here and it's no longer a dreadful time teachers and parents would warn us about has still not cemented in my reality and that's resulted in tonight; what i thought would be a productive few hours but instead turned out to be a burden on my tailbone and a strain on my eyelids. i forgot to switch night mode on.

i've been averaging eight hours a week on social media and that's inversely proportional to the amount of time i've spent studying as well. maybe it looks like i've been working but i've really not, i know i've not. if i had, i wouldn't have been awake now. winter break was fairly uneventful as well which left me with my hands empty, save for the guilt of procrastination i've had to lug around with me for the past week. i wish i could say i'm normally not like this but i am. case in point; i only wrote two blogposts in december 2018 because i couldn't force myself to spend fifteen minutes in writing a few sentences.

i don't know what i'm trying to say, all i know is what i'm feeling. and nothing about it is particularly pleasant.

i hope this serves as a reminder, a warning. a gentle push- whatever you want it to be- towards accomplishing something you want/need to. unless you wanna live in a perpetual state of fear (i don't recommend it) you should probably focus on your work as soon as the task exists.

new year, new you right?