💣Silent Chaos 🎇

What is today suppose to be?

I am losing track of the dates and day.

Everyday feels the same, play, pause, rewind. 

Communication is key, isn't it?

At least that's what was mentioned.

I used to think communication was the key, until I realised what comprehension is. Try communicating all you want with someone, but if they don't understand you, it's pointless. Words fall on deaf ears, it is as if you are talking to a wall. But even some walls echo back the words heard. At least, it's being heard, somewhat.

Speaking your mind doesn't kill right?

But why do I get shot for speaking?

The most pathetic feeling is when you get in a fight with someone because you expressed what made you feel upset and irritated. Instead of apologising, they find a way to make you feel even worse about it and you are left regretting saying anything at all. I should have just kept silent.

Should I just not say anything at all?

I wish for adventure, or at least something to look forward to.

I wish for peace and harmony, not obliviousness.

I wish for silence, not silent chaos.

Sometimes a whisper is louder than a shout.

But I can barely hear myself, mumbles.

My words are only too loud when they don't hear above their din.

Just a month more...

Maybe slightly more than a month, who knows.

I gave up counting.

Zero o'clock 🕛

23:59:00
It's already coming to the end of the day.
How has your day been?

23:59:05
It is the last minute of the day, what are you up to?
Have you washed up and preparing to sleep?
Or perhaps, maybe already catching the much needed forty winks?

23:59:17
It seems so long ago that this minute past by without me realising.
Clickety-clacks of the keyboard and the buzz of the hand phone.
The cacophony of sounds in a panicky rush to meet deadlines.

23:59:38
Time seemed to pass so fast then.
Within a blink of an eye, it was already the next day.
But not anymore.

23:59:45
Just a mere 15 seconds more.
One minute is sure along time.
Alot of things can happen before tomorrow comes.

23:59:51
Plenty of things can change.
A drop in the temperature, a loss of a strand of hair.
I watch as a fly gets trapped in a web, unable to escape.

23:59:56
But what if this was the last minute of your life?

23:59:58
Silence.

23:59:59
I sat there and stared, as the minute and second hand overlaps.

00:00:00
Is it today, tomorrow, or yesterday?
Let me check.

... ... I'm still breathing.

Don't give me your attitude

I'm honestly sick and tired of your nonsense.

I've had enough.

Don't test my patience any longer.

Time and time again, I have let bygones be bygones.

Trying to keep my cool, I tolerated and pretended like nothing has happened.

But you have to throw your sass into my face once again.

You said you want to be treated like an adult. Then act like one!

You find the most childish and trivial things to argue and fight with. Every little event that goes against you, you blame others for the misfortune. It is never ever your fault. You are always right. You always seem to feel that you need to put others down back into their places and you think highly about yourself.

You said you want to take care of the environment. Why don't you take care of yourself first. You rather save the chickens and be all high up about ethical farming, and starve yourself till you get an unhealthy stomach and make others worry about you. Heck it, you don't even take your meals properly and you call yourself a functional adult. 

You said we don't care about you. But you just don't see it.

Multiple times I've tried to be the caring older sister and strike a conversation with you. 

How was your day? Where are you headed to? Have you eaten?

All these harmless questions just to ask about your well-being, and you shot them down.

Why do you care?

And then when I give up asking, you say you don't act like an older sister and you don't care about me. 

It hurts a lot honestly, a lot.

It makes it seem I am no good as someone older, that I am unworthy to be in your sight.

I've tried and I want to keep trying to salvage it.

But I am tired of your attitude.

Anyways, beside the rants... ...

A milestone reached! 

My 100th blog post!

Seems like it has taken me awhile.

This is my first and only blog so far, and I've kept it up and running since 2011. I'm so proud of myself for persevering on and living life. 

At least this ended on a positive note.

䷻ A Limit ≐

Everything has a limit.

A speed limit when driving on the road, to make things safe.

A tolerance limit when drinking, before going tipsy.

A limit to how much something can be stretched, before it snaps.

Some limits are higher than the others.

Some limits are worth breaking and going beyond it.

Some limits are meant to be kept and tolerated.

What's my limit?

I feel that I have reached my limit a couple of times already, and it is only the first month of the new year. I'm so close to screaming my head off and even swearing. It is so not me to lose my cool, especially when I am in public places. The ache and the tears, I choose not to show them, but they lose control anyways. I hate crying, it makes me a mess. I'm not weak, at least I don't want to appear to be. 

But you have pushed me to my limits, till I'm losing my calm and cool. 

I've tolerated long enough, all of us have.

You don't even seem to notice the tension in the air when you are around, do you?

You are an oblivious fool, an insensitive jerk with a lazy and commanding nature that irks everyone. Clean up after yourself for once, you have limbs for a reason, put them to good use. Thank you very much, but most of us are fine living without your help, if you didn't know.

Ugh. 

How am I going to survive till the end of the new decade? 

When I have had one too many, 

And am not writing coherently.

I need to stop trying, 

Trying to be deep and meaningful.

I shall give up. 

I've given up.

With maybe five shots, 

Definitely less than a bottle.

Just some alcohol somewhere,

Drowning in my system.

I'm not a poet.

I'm just a girl,

with too many thoughts, 

and not enough sense, 

To stop typing.

🌅 A Day Dedicated to Me 👧

With a few more days left in 2020, I feel the need to at least accomplish something that I always wanted to do and try. 

I have always wanted to go on a trip on my own, overseas, that is. 
However, there always seem to be restrictions and liabilities that I need to deal with. I wasn't "allowed" to venture far alone. I needed to "grow up" before finding an adventure. I couldn't bring myself to have fun alone, when others could tag along.

Since I can't go overseas, why not be a tourist in my own country? 
Sure, My home country is small, there isn't much to see, but the thought of spending a vast majority of the day on my own, outside and without anyone I know or recognised with me, is giving me thrills. It is exciting but nerve-wrecking, I haven't actually done this before.

Putting on my favourite socks, most comfortable shoes and my handy backpack, I set off with much vigour and worry, hoping this day would go well.

And it did.

I didn't have to take into account about the likes and interests of other people. 
I could just venture where my feet would take me, step by step.

I didn't have to wait on anyone or vice versa. 
I could spend time fully and slowly, no restrictions, no timetable to follow.

I didn't have to deal with mood swings and emotions of others.
I could take charge of the day based on my own emotions and thoughts.

It feels... ... free. Is this what freedom feels like?

But it does get lonely, especially during mealtimes. 

Coming back after a day of exploration, I question myself, why did I want to do this so badly? Have I learnt anything?

Was I exploring the sights, or was I exploring myself?

Was I doing this to desperately escaping the rising discomfort and tension at home?

Was I just attempting to leave the reality that I want to deny from so badly?

Maybe it wasn't about getting the permission to travel solo.

Maybe it wasn't about being "not allowed" to seek adventure.

Maybe it was just me ... ... feeling scared.

One Lunar Year Ago 🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

Lunar Date: 己亥年 十月 二十九日 

(Year of the Pig, 29th day of the 10th month)

I lay in bed, gazing at the ceiling, barely making the outline of the ceiling fan above me. The room was still dark, the sun has yet to risen. But I am already awake, hearing the ticks of the wall clock somewhere in the room. Lazily, I reached to grab my phone, temporarily blinding me with light as I glance at the time. Squinting my blurry eyes. 

6:25 am

I shouldn't be awake at this timing, my alarm hasn't even rang.

As sleepy as I still was, I couldn't get anymore shut eye. I just lay there staring blanking into the darkness of my bedroom, watching the light peep in through the curtains as dawn breaks. 

I really didn't want this day to start. I know what lies ahead today, but I still can't accept it. Maybe I am still in denial, not wanting to believe that it has already been a year. A whole lunar year has passed, and I am still... ... the same. 

6:45 am

The alarm finally rings.

It is time to go about and do this day.

11:50 pm

Day ends. The sky is dark and dull, the moon is nowhere to be seen. The damp smell of the finished rain and wet grass lingers in the air as the chilly winds whispers. I sat at the desk, once again staring blankly at the page I am struggling to fill. I am tired, honestly, but sleep isn't claiming me.

Even at the end of the day, I still can smell the incense of the joss sticks and paper, and feel the warmth of the burning in the urn. A smell that used to mean nothing much to me, but now it brings back clouds of memories that I wish wouldn't diminished with time.

It is difficult for the sun to filter through these grey clouds of regret and wishing this didn't happen. I wish all these grey clouds away, I wish I had done more to regret less, I wish I could rewind to that day one lunar year ago.

😕 I did alright, right?

It's so pretty!

You have really done well!

Good Job!

Compliments.

They do make me happy. 

I feel overjoyed when someone wholeheartedly praise my work and acknowledge my effort. Even a simple 'thank you, and I really like it' over a text message has brought me smiling inwardly. The mere thought of the joy and amazement that my work has brought to others just makes me feel so happy, a feeling I have genuinely not felt for a long time. 

I keep replaying the compliments that were showered on me during that time, even though it has happened almost a week ago. 

It's amazing! You have put in so much effort into them that I really need to keep this properly. How much time did it take? I think you have found your calling. Finally we found something you can win them in.

Rarely do I get so much compliments coming towards me that I don't know how to react to them. It's awkward when all the attention is on you. But it is a good kind of awkward. 

It's nice to have your efforts appreciated so openly. 

I have always been worried and unsure if my effort isn't good enough. People see things differently. Something that I felt that I have placed a lot of effort in maybe just so-so work for them, nothing of standard. After all the effort and time that has been taken is only known by the one who done it.

I am really thankful for this group of friends.

Thank you for appreciating me!

You have really done good!

Really?

I am just glad that we are all still good. 

📕 Case Closed, or Not? 📖

Courtrooms.

Prosecutions and Defendants.

We know of their existence of them, and their purpose.

They are seen on TV, dramas, news etc., but never in my life I would have thought about the need to visit it once. 

This issue has been bugging me for some time now, but I could not find the words to explain it. I studied no law, so most of my thoughts are based off of my emotions, which may be biased, so bear with me. 

A little past a month back, there was a need to visit such a place and listen to a court hearing. Not knowing what to expect, I went in with a heavy heart and with a little fear.

Statements and facts of the matter were made, clearly and surely.

Adapted from: Section 304A Penal Code (Chapter 224, Revised Edition 2008)

Causing death by rash or negligent act
      304A.     Whoever causes the death of any person by doing any rash or negligent act not amounting to culpable homicide, shall be punished -

        (a)      in the case of a rash act, with imprisonment for a term which may
                   extend to 5 years, or with fine, or both; or
        (b)      in the case of a negligent act, with imprisonment for a term which may
                   extend to 2 years, or with fine, or with both.

5 years maximum, it mentioned, but you were only sentenced to 2 months in jail.

Just because you pleaded guilty does not mean you are not as guilty. You still have committed a crime that caused a life. 

2 months in jail, while the rest of the decease's family members spent several months and even years in sadness as a result of your mistake. The sentence doesn't seem severe enough to atone for your mistake. And this is not your first mistake. The amount of fines you have paid over the years hasn't let you learnt your lesson, what will 2 months of jail term do to you?

I know that life is unfair, but isn't this too unfair?

I was hoping that by sitting through the court hearing, most of us will feel the much needed closure of this case, reaching a settlement of our emotions, calming our hearts.

On the contrary, this seemed to do the opposite instead.

The case may be closed, but the unsettled feeling is still there.

The gavel was raised and a knock was heard, echoing through the entire courtroom.

"Case closed." they said. Clicks of the handcuffs could be heard after, as the criminal was lead away by 2 police officers, serving their much needed punishment.

Tension dissipates, as the head judge rises from their seat, followed behind by his left and right judges. Shuffling up to their feet, everyone bows in respect. 

Other emotions start seeping in. 

Relief comes in as a replacement to the anger felt towards the criminal. 

Respect to the higher authorities that kept their calm and seriousness throughout.

Regret, that all this has to happened, but it serves as a reminder of the laws put in place to keep us just and safe.  

But none of that happened.

Creating another Island 🌌

I want people to know more about me.

I want to step out of my comfort zone.

I want the world to see my life through my eyes. 

But the online world is a scary place.

I am scared of the comments that will be given.

I am fearful of the meek response that maybe given.

I am a timid mouse just wanting to hide away.

It was after much deliberation that I decided to create an Instagram account.

All the hype happening on Instagram, allowing us to get a peek into the life of a star, gain inspiration for both art and fashion, and etc.

I too want to be part of all this hype. Maybe it is me wanting to gain acceptance and recognition from someone somewhere else, or just paint a facade. Sure, the posts on both this blog and there would still be as anonymous as it already is, no name and no face shown. 

I hope I am not making a grave mistake by creating an account and linking it to this blog. I have stay hidden as a blogger ever since I've started blogging, and kept changing the URL of this blog. It is going to take up a lot of my time, not that I have anything better to do. 

It's not too late isn't it?

🏠 Lego House

힘들어도 안 힘든 척

아파도 안 아픈 척

그렇게 계속 창고 살다 보니,

겉은 멀쩡해 보이는데 

속은 엉망진창으로 망가지고 있는 것 같은 기분

- 김토끼 -

Translation:

(Acting as if I am not tired, when I am

Acting as if I am not in pain, when I am

After living all those years with suppression, 

I look fine on the outside, 

but it feels as if I am starting to break into pieces inside)

I have heard the above quote when Hara posted on her social media account.

It just hit me in the feels, that everyone is breaking at some point. Some of us hide it better than others, making people think that "Hey, you are acting usual, just like yourself". Maybe we just don't want others to worry. Maybe we just do not like when the attention is on us. Maybe we feel that others can handle it and go on with life, we could too. 

Sometimes, I don't even know if I am breaking or picking up the pieces. Which part of life am I suppose to be on? My hands are getting filled with the pieces that I have picked up, pieces that I don't know where it belongs to. Are they mine? Or am I just blindly doing things for the sake of being useful when I am still alive?

Over last week, I heard the song Lego House, by Ed Sheeran. His lyrics in the song just struck a chord with me. Playing with Lego is a childhood memory to me. It has always been fun piecing them together to form shapes from our dreams, building relationships with my siblings over Lego. However, as children we didn't really focus on the fragility of them. Once fallen, bricks with  come loose. Step on them, and they hurt a lot.

I am going to continue picking up the pieces, 

To built a Lego house.

Brick by brick and piece by piece, 

I childishly stacked them up,

Making a feeble attempt to patch myself up.

One wall of the brittle Lego house is already done.

Just a wall, with no doors and windows.

A wall of colourful plastic bricks,

Giving me a fake sense of security,

For one push is all it takes for it to crumble.

Will it be able to shelter me from the storms that are raging?

Barricading me from the howling winds.

Or will it cast long dreary shadows,

With impenetrable darkness,

Even the lighting has failed to lit.

When someone comes along, 

Would they help to build the unfinished walls of the house?

For it isn't a house with just one wall.

Or wasting the timorous effort of mine,

By tearing it down to come face to face with me?

A Dormant Volcano 🗻

A sudden light flashed across the sky, illuminating the already dark  purple sky. It is accompanied by the sound of rumbling thunder echoing in the otherwise silent night. There is a slight rustle of leaves, a couple of pitter-patter of the raindrops, that's about it.

Besides the couple of raindrops already trailing down the window, I doubt it would pour.

I sat on the floor, next to the windows. Curtains drawn. 

Pressing my face against the glass as I gaze outside, feeling the coldness against my skin. 

A comforting coldness numbing the boiling fire within.

The weather is really trying to help me isn't it? It matches my mood.

A thunder storm is brewing, yet it doesn't rain.

A fire of fury and hatred is ignited, but there isn't any waterworks to extinguished it.

Save the few tears shed, doubt it will help.

Hate is a strong word.

I hardly use it, I would usually say I dislike this and that, but seldom hate.

But I'm frustrated, angry and upset.

All the pent up emotions are forming a boiling pit of lava, waiting to erupt from a long dormant volcano. 

It is bound to happen sooner or later,  me losing my cool and getting angry.

It's just a matter of time before one of us snaps.

But maybe it is just me.

女儿和女佣，虽然这两个字有个女字在前面，但是意思是非不同。

你不能随意把女儿当成你的女佣来看待。

女佣可以不喜欢她的雇主， 因为她能还雇主，再也见不到他。

但女儿不可以不认她的爸爸，只能默默地讨厌他，忍着。

Sorry, I just had to type in Chinese to get my message across, but here's the translation.

(A daughter and a helper, although both are females, but their meanings are really different.

You can't just treat your daughter as a maid.

A maid can dislike her employer, because she can change him, and not meet him again.

But a daughter can't disown her father, just quietly dislike and tolerate.)

I hate it that you are so stubborn and oblivious.

I hate it that you are a stereotypical old male, always waiting to be serve.

I hate it that you treat us like this.

I wanna scream and lash out at all the injustice.

We are women, not servants.

Stop throwing your man attitude at us.

But I cannot do anything about it. For now.

The dormant volcano was on the verge of erupting.

But the bubbling magma needs to be swallowed back down to the ever fiery pit. 

But keep in mind, this dormant volcano will never go extinct. 

Replay ◀️ ; Rewind ⏮️

It has been a long time since I wrote here. 
A break of four months, should be sufficient time for me to organise my thoughts and life right? 
I guessed not. 

I feel that I keep hitting a replay button. 

I am back to where I am used to be, lost and unmotivated.
There have been many things that I wanted to say or do, but nothing seems done. I keep telling myself that I need to do this or that, I want to learn new things now that I have the time, or I should use what I learnt to make things worthwhile. 

Nothing has happened.

A new chapter of my life has began a long time ago. A milestone has been crossed almost a year ago, where the chapter closes and a new one begins. Although off to a rocky beginning of a new chapter, I am barely a page in. The me from four months ago is as unaccomplished as the me four months older. Most of my peers are building up to the climax of their life chapters, but I am stuck and unmoving.

The lack of motivation is real, I get distracted and stare into space often.

Hitting the replay button once again, a memory floats by.
A friend, who once read my previous entries, mentioned that many of my posts were usually about a similar topic - the lack of a goal and a dream. Reading back the past ninety posts, I realised that this is true. Many of the previous posts were about the lack of motivation, escaping reality, being lost, insecure and unsure about what I wanted to do with my life. 

What if I could rewind time ?
Would that change anything ?
Or would everything replay itself once again ?

The Waiting Game ⌚

Let's go.
Yes, let's go.
(They do not move.)

Waiting.
It is a game, isn't it?
You never know when the time is up, or if it is worth waiting until the very end.

You can wait and wait, but in the end it doesn't happen.
It's like the play titled Waiting for Godot. I've never watched or read it, but one thing I know is that in the duration of 2 hours and 30 minutes, Godot never appears. 

Then why are the characters still waiting?

"Pozzo:

Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time? 

It's abominable! When! When! 

One day, is that not enough for you,  one day he went dumb, one day I went blind, one day we'll go deaf, one day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not good enough for you?

They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams as instant, 
then it's night once more. "

- Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

Time waits for no one.

But sometimes, the only think you can do is hope, and wait.
Wait for something to happen, hope that that something is going to be good.

I waited for you to reopen your eyes to greet me, like they used to.
I waited for my eyes to greet the daylight, awakening me from this nightmare.
I waited for a miracle to happen, I wished and I hoped.

I waited, and I am still waiting.

But it doesn't happen, you're gone.

Littlespace

I chance upon this by accident, while reading fanfiction on Wattpad.

It's intriguing, the more I read about it, the more I'm drawn to it.

"Littlespace is a mindset in which an adult relaxes into a state of carefree, responsibility-free safety. It may be a developed time in which an adult relieves childhood memories, scenarios, or desires that were unachieveable in their adolescence. As an adult in littlespace (often referred to as a 'Little') may involved another adult referred to as a caregiver, engage in activities viewed as childish, and some may even participate in adult sexual interaction during their time in littlespace."

- Urban Dictionary

It is a form of ageplay, or age regression. I don't feel it is wrong or unnatural, it's just a coping mechanism for some adults to deal with stressful situations. There is nothing kinky or sexual about it. These Littles retreat into their littlespace to find happiness and escape from their reality. Whatever the cause that triggered them to enter, be it their fears, problems or worries, it makes them happy.

Am I a Little?

Maybe, maybe not, I am not too sure myself. I would say I'm childish and like childlike things. Just thinking about a possible littlespace makes me extremely happy.

Imagine a regressive state of mind where is it peaceful and pleasent, and a place where worries, anxieties and fears melt away in twinkling sparkles. It is replaced by the sweet scent of happiness, relaxation and calmness. I sit on a lap of a giant brown teddy bear, with its arms on either side of me. I snuggle against the soft pale yellow blanket that is draped across my shoulders. Strains of Disney music could be heard, as the credits continued rolling. In front of me, there's a table, and with it is a mug of thick hot chocolate with marshmallows at a reachable distance. There is a colouring book splayed open, accompanined by a large holder containing assortments of colouring markers, pencils, pens, crayons etc.. Stretching out my legs, I turned to my right to face a full length window overlooking a picturesque view of a clear lake framed by red maple trees and snow-capped mountains in the background. I pressed my hands on the glass, cool to touch, as I watched the maple leaves tousled in the wind. 

Justing imagining it gives me a freeing feeling as I escape from any negative feelings for  awhile. It's going to be comfotable. It's going to be a safe place, nothing can hurt me, and there is nothing to fear.

Give me a colouring book.

Ask me what my favourite colour is.

Don't let me pay or hand me money like you would to a big girl.

Feed me snacks and drinks with special bowls and cups.

Tell me when I'm doing good, love me still on bad days.

I want to be a child, and not have to deal or worry with anything at all.

Shelter me from my fears and anxieties, and the evilness of world.

It would be nice to escape reality once in awhile, but it is not possible, is it?

Society's Toy

I have never really been interested in studying at all, neither was I one that was good at sports. Instead, since young I enjoyed music and art classes more so often than any other subjects. I enjoyed the performing arts too, be it dance, piano or even cheer leading (in primary school standards). I do find the thrill in standing on stage and performing, maybe I like the attention. I haven't been incredibly bright or artistic, and I do not excel in any aspect. 

But here am I, having studied almost 17 years in an education system, stripping me of my individuality. I was put into the education mould - from kindergarten till graduation from university, but I don't feel that I have grown as a person. Instead, I felt that I have lost who I am and I can't seem to see myself as an individual person anymore. My individuality has been drowned out by the society's mould, shaped by what society thinks its best for you and what you should do. 

Maybe I was not forced into the framework.

I was just too scared to break away from it, too timid to rebel, too afraid to be about of the societal norm. Just go with the flow, be safe. I keep thinking back, what if I had the guts to go against my parents and society's ruling and do as I deem fit, onto a path that many has claimed to be profitless and without a future. Would I be happier? 

There I lay as a society's toy.

Nothing special, Nothing unique.

I hear my life ticked away, 

As I watched the clouds float by, thinking,

What's the use of being perfect. 

A circular round piece with no flaws, 

no unsightly edges and ends, 

only to be out of place, alone, 

and unable to fit in the jigsaw society.

Love Yourself 💜

I have been really lazy again, skipping last month's post update. There are many things that I have wanted to post about, but I couldn't put it into thoughts, let alone words. The past month has past by unknowingly fast, and my emotions are in a mess. I don't know where to start. 

I am going to take a big step and confess something.

It might be risky, but I just want to let it out, for awhile, before zipping it back up.

There is someone that I may have a crush on. 

I've said it.

Is it love? Are the feelings mutual? Are you going to confess?

I'm not sure. Doubt it. Nope.

I never really realised it, until last year. We have known each other since our school days, with us getting along as better friends as every school year passes. At first, I thought maybe the slight uncomfortable emotion I was feeling was due to my usual awkwardness with people. But after a couple of years, these feelings didn't go away. I yearn to talk to you and spend time with you. I trusted you, just as you trusted me as a friend. I didn't need to hesitate to tell you about my worries or when I just wanted to whine.

Once awhile, we spent time together, just the two of us. The fluttering of my heart was evident, even if the time we spent alone was just a short span, like waiting for other friends to arrive. It was in that little time where your attention was on me and I dared to step out of my quiet bubble to talk to you.

I wanted to step forward and get closer to you, but I am afraid, to you, it might be too close for comfort. I wanted to reach out to you, and hug you, but there seem to be a boundary that I couldn't ever cross between you and me. 

We are complete opposites. 

You are always confident and the cool-headed one, keeping everything within sight and at task. Unlike me who is reserved, meek and quiet, hardly motivated to do anything.

You have plans, dreams and you knew what you have wanted to do right from the start, while I floated aimlessly following society's ruling without a backbone of my own.

You could do well in anything once you put your mind to it, you learn incredibly fast. I barely survived school with menial grades and knowledge similar to that when I first entered school. 

But opposites attract right?

I am afraid of pulling you down with me. As lonely as it gets on the ground below, watching you fly high and happily is kind of sufficient for me.

I wish I could just forget everything and say "I like you", but our friendship is far too precious to risk. I rather we just be good friends. At least we are still friends.
Maybe we are better off being just friends.

"I look at you in the mirror. 

A gaze full of fear, the never-ending question.

Perhaps, loving myself is more difficult than loving someone else.

Let's be frank, the standard you set yourself are stricter than anything else."

- Answer: Love Myself, BTS

It's going to be difficult to comfortably love someone else.

Until I can finally love myself.

And be myself confidently. 

Falling but not Landing

Another month has passed, it is July now isn't it? I've lost track of time. Alot of things can be achieved in a month, but the me from one month ago has not changed till today. I have been stuck in the same spot, in the doldrums for as long as I can recall. A bittersweet chapter of life as ended, promising another better beginning, but all is seen is an empty darkness.

The overwhelming darkness is eating me alive and making me tired. I am tired from chasing after dull dreams that is not mine. I'm tired from doing things that does not benefit me. I'm tired from listening to what I should and must do. I am just tired, tired from life. I feel that I am being drained of my life and my individuality. I want to find back myself, find the things that I lilke to do and a find a definition to what's me. 

However, with the darkness, I have lost my sense of direction. I have got zero motivation to save myself from this darkness. Hobbies that I used to have have become a burden, and I do not enjoy them as much as I used to. On the contrary, they drag me further into despair upon realisation that I am not good at them at all. There isn't anything that I am good at is there? I don't know where to start looking. I know I should look deep within myself and be true to my feelings to find an answer, but I am always wary.  Wary about my surroundings, worried about just almost everything.  

It is an inescapable nightmare, 

No matter how hard I try to pinch myself awake, I don't wake up.

Darkness clouds around, drowning me.

I want to put an end to it.

But only to realise this isn't a nightmare afterall, it's life. 

It is alright to regret, it is okay to fail and fall,

That's what they said.

Tears fall too, it is gravity's calling afterall. 

But they do not have to land, just wiped away without a trace,

Better to be kept unknown to the world.

I will just keep falling, 

I wonder how much further till rock bottom.

Falling deeper and deeper into darkness,

Waiting for that little 'thud', for me to find my feet again.

But I just don't land.