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.