Posted in Completely Random!!

intrusive thoughts

i’m going to super glue my fingers together to see how much strength it takes to pull them back apart.

i’m going to scream into the void to see if anyone will scream back at me, or just realise it was me screaming at myself from the start.

oof. angst. that’s why you should use glue. stick those pieces of a mind back together, ssshhhtk! and then hold them in place for hours. when you let go, they can hold themselves together, but just barely. hold them carefully.

(or drop them!)

nobody is listening. what does it mean to listen? asking questions, right? if you want someone to listen but they aren’t allowed to ask questions, do you even want them to listen? or is it only that you want someone to understand.

i don’t think that’s it, but you can’t think of something better at this point, can you?

shhhh they’re not supposed to know.

Posted in Completely Random!!, Sleepless Nights, Writing Bits

they told me there was nothing past death, and that i should go back.

which is ridiculous now that i think about it. i had just taken the effort to die, and now they were telling me ‘nothing exists beyond the void of the life you knew’; yet their very existence defied their own claims. who knows who or what they were, but they clearly didnt want me there, and so they sent me back. what kind of place we were in, i don’t remember – maybe a room, maybe an empty plain – but somewhere filled with a white fog beyond which you could see nothing.

no, maybe that was it. maybe it was all nothing except for them.

rather than expose their disinformation by pointing out the fact of their presence, i only felt a dull disappointment at the time. they faded from view as time rewound (even though time wasn’t supposed to exist there. curious). as the memories return of that place, surely one of them was God? and He had said that He did not want me.

i found myself back on earth. a younger version of myself might have found the void beyond death a great reason to die, but now with firm confirmation of the absence of any kind of afterlife, the existence of life became much more beautiful and endearing. it would be the only thing i would experience, and that made it all the more precious.

dream logic is something that will ever elude us.

Posted in Completely Random!!, Sleepless Nights

the danger of love

is that it’s the most vulnerable yet comforting state of existence.

To love means investing time and energy into someone who may or may not reciprocate. It means taking a step forward even when you’re not sure how someone will react. It means getting hurt because you care, and it means being willing to overlook the imperfections of another human who will inevitably let you down.

To be loved means being known, and being known means being vulnerable. It involves tangling up with other people — letting them in on the mess inside that might cause them to draw away and confirm your suspicion that you’re unworthy of love.

To love is to risk.

And yet… we need it so desperately.

It’s funky to need something so badly and yet be so deathly afraid of it as well. To be loved is to risk. To love is to risk.

Posted in Completely Random!!, Writing, Writing Bits

the angst from the conversation we just tried to have.

static begins to play in the silence in which you expect an answer. an answer won’t be given; i’ve forgotten the question at this point, and the thoughts have been fleeing from my head. maybe they’re trying to protect me by keeping it blank. is it blank? no, there’s a song playing in the background, and the voices have been changing out in fragments like there are five people inside talking at once. what are they talking about, i wonder. the blood pounds in my head. what started as a bit of tiredness has evolved into the beginnings of what i know to be a battering headache. i put a cold hand to my warm forehead.

corona, says one thought ironically.

i think i was happy yesterday. i think i was even happy today, but then it’s not my happiness anymore. it’s a stranger’s, and warm liquids are threatening to spill out. my eyes. my nose. my head just banged against the table. what do i even feel right now.

uh. nothing anymore. the tissues are warm on my desk and there’s a stain on my jeans.


f- f- f- f- f- a word repeats in my head until i don’t remember what it means. i think my fingers aren’t working anymore. the feelings are gone and instead of a sniveling pity party inside, there’s just a cold corridor filled with spiderwebs. is this body mine? i don’t think so. there are even soundwaves beating against my eardrums that should maybe make something happen inside. it used to sometimes. the tears are long gone now though, and my throat didn’t even get to scream.

huh. hello?

i never liked you.

Posted in Completely Random!!, Sleepless Nights

4:39am thoughts

halla, it is currently — yes, as you guessed it — four in the morning, yet here I am for some inexplicable reason.

the inexplicable reason is my arms are hurting. Not sure why. The only inexplicable part is why they’re hurting.

In any case, it’s time to start an early-morning rambling before I inevitably go back to sleep and wake up regretting this several hours later. Who knew arm pain could keep you up? I did before actually but I forgot. Fun reminders.

Anyway, what is up. I was sorting out some crap in my room yesterday, and I came across a couple old letters that an adult friend ‘sent’ nine-year-old me to humour me at a time when I put up little cardboard mailboxes on every family member’s door in the house. What a champ. Those letters are epic and I will keep them. Anyway, I didn’t want to keep them in the little box they were in anymore, so I decided to stick them in one of my old journals — my first journal, actually, which I’d originally started for some kind of project my mom made us do, then just continued afterward.

The ramblings of a 9-year-old are hilarious; I journaled quite literally and just explained everything that happened in a day. My mom was the one who made us kids start it for some reason, so she read through them like they were some kind of homework assignment (which in a way they kind of were). At one point I started an entry with, ‘My mom said I don’t have to write every detail.’

I guess my mom didn’t want to read what I ate for breakfast every morning, or about how I ate said breakfast with my sister under the dining table because it was fun.

A few years ago I wrote a mandatory post on why I personally find journaling fun, but one thing I’m pretty sure I left out was the bit where you get to read your old journals to see how you’ve grown or changed over the years. Of course, most of the information in my very first journal isn’t exactly insightful or deep, but it does give a glimpse into the mind of a kid and how they process things. Reading through some of my journal entries from a couple years ago reveals things like just how dark of a place I was in without realising it. Some entries from when I was a sixteen-year-old were surprisingly mature and thoughtful. (Imagine having depth of thought nowadays.) In a way, reading past journals is like meeting your past self to see what you think of them now. Is it always fun? No. My journals are full of random crap and details that are no longer important to me now, but sometimes you can find interesting tidbits amongst the past brain throw-up.

Huh. I knew this post would end up focusing on one thing. Good thing it usually does.

Well, that’s my 4am self’s thoughts on journaling in light of reading some old journal entries. My arms still hurt, but maybe exhaustion will trump the pain.

Posted in Completely Random!!

when people surprise you (blog challenge: day 10)

This has a legitimate reason for being late which you do not need to know.

(I got busy and forgot.)

Today I looked through the rest of the blog challenge prompts, and deciding that most of them were boring, I have opted to finish the challenge with this one last prompt.

Buckle down for some random facts and ten things about me people don’t really expect:

  1. How many hobbies I have. I feel like I do way too many things and have way too many interests, like I got killed off early in a past life and now must experience life to its fullest. (Haha….)
  2. I’m really into maps. Then again, who isn’t into maps. They’re nice and cool and have a certain aesthetic to them. World traveling time.
  3. English classes are awful. Ironic, seeing as I’m writing this blog for fun, but most English classes are just weird and feel like a waste of time.
  4. Math is fun to me. It’s kind of surprising when math is fun to anyone, isn’t it?
  5. I am actually Asian. This really shocks people especially when they meet me in person; they always comment things like, ‘Whoa, you have black hair and brown eyes, so I didn’t even think you were Asian…’ (sarcasm. I’m running out of things to add)
  6. How many stories I’ve finished writing. 90% of them were as a fourteen-year-old. That was quite the year. So far I’ve written ten novel(ettes… they’re all incredibly short), and now I question how I ever had the motivation and/or time and/or lack of perfectionism to actually finish all those stories. Oh motivation, why hast thou forsaken me in my time of need?
  7. I can enjoy certain romance stories. Usually people who’ve known me for at least a day are surprised when I tell them I like which-and-what book or whatever-movie because they’re romance stories. I’m not exactly a romantic person, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a good ol’ love story, right?
  8. How bad my memory is. It’s just unexpected because it’s so bad compared to the average person, apparently. This especially comes up in conversations with friends when I ask the same question multiple times. I’ve taken to writing down more important information about people now so that I don’t end up asking the same thing as many times.
  9. Where I grew up. When I mention I grew up in Asia in the US, people like to hit me with the ‘Whoaaa your English is so good! I never would’ve been able to tell!’ but often don’t understand that that was what we mostly spoke at home. I’d hope my English is good. (Sometimes it do be purty bad doe.)
  10. Certain medical videos are incredibly satisfying and fun to watch. Cyst-popping, wart-burning, ear-digging — you name it. Another weird quirk, I guess. but they can be so darn satisfying.

Anyway, now that I’m officially done with the blog challenge, it’s time to go back to random ramblings and rants about everyday life. And maybe write some stories and poetry.

I dunno. My poetry always kinda sucked.

Thanks for sticking with me on this short-lived blog challenge, and I hope you enjoyed it. For anyone who’s interested in trying this specific challenge out for themselves: again, the original blogger Lori Carlson who made it seems to have deleted her site of Rattling Bones, but here is the original image:

Posted in Completely Random!!

oh boy, romance. Just kidding! cats (blog challenge: day 9)

‘When was your last kiss?’

Well, kind of awkward to admit this, but my last kiss was actually several minutes ago. I can’t not see one of my cat’s soft, fluffy heads without giving them a kiss. Their heads were made to be kissed. They are so precious. Fluffy. Impeccable.

Some days it strikes me how crazy it is that there are two little fluffball species living in my house rent-free. I clean up after them, give them food, water, pets. What do they give me in return? Fluff all over the place. Scratches on my hands and arms. Adorable glares from the couchtop.

Yeah, they’re worth having around.

It’s kind of like kids, except less rewarding, less funny, and less… everything. You just get a little bit of companionship (when they’re in the mood) and get to laugh at their ridiculous behaviour. That’s it. But it really is the simple joys in life, innit?

Posted in Completely Random!!

and on the eighth day… (blog challenge: day 8)

…the topic was something that I’m currently worried about.

Trigger warning: depression, suicide.

Uh, fun fact: I didn’t have anything super significant to worry about when I started writing this post, but life likes to remind me that nothing is all cotton balls and candy, so some stressful news just came up about family because some of us have mental health issues. *peace sign*

Meh. Life is so much rougher than people will tell you it’s gonna be, especially if you have mental illness. Which is something I was thinking about the other day, because a discussion post asked people with depression / suicidal ideation what helped them to get out of it, and a lot of them mentioned just medicine. Some people (especially me, even though I’m on happy drugs right now too) like to think that depression is something that can be cured ‘naturally’ — do yoga, eat healthily, drink a lot of water, establish good sleeping habits, exercise, get a lot of sunshine, etc., etc.. But the fact is, some people genuinely just need some medicine because their brain is a fallible organ that simply does not produce the right chemicals. Just like someone might take antihistamines for allergies, sometimes happy drugs are just what someone needs, and no amount of lifestyle changes is going to alter that.

Anyway, my sister has been in a pretty dark place for a while and was actually in the psych ward a couple months back for almost trying to off herself. Mental health is always a series of ups and downs, so turns out today was not the best of days for her. She doesn’t usually talk about it either, which is kind of understandable but also… makes me angry. Which therapists always tell you that anger is a secondary emotion, so underneath that it’s probably hurt and scared because she doesn’t trust me enough to talk to me about it, so she would definitely kill herself without consulting me. (The nerve??) Which I have zero control over, obviously, since I can’t always be with her and checking on her, especially if she doesn’t communicate when is a rough day for her.

As someone who’s also been there, I’ve tried to help her in ways that I know would have helped me when I was in a dark place, but people are different and she doesn’t need the same things I did. She doesn’t even really want them. Trying to remember when I was in a bad place to try to better relate to and try to help her probably isn’t the best for me either, but I guess it’s a reminder that nothing in life is permanent. Things get better. Things get worse.

Through the rollercoaster, a question I’m asking myself again is, what even makes it worth it? Someone pointed out the other day to me that we live for however many years but spend so much of that time just working. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. Is there anything in the grind that is really worthwhile? Why bother waking up every day after all when it’s all so temporary and will be erased soon?

To which the only answer that came to mind was… people. Relationships. Even people in the secular world would be seen as temporary, but what if there is an eternity where everyone has souls and matters? Then what would you focus all your time and energy on? Work is necessary for survival, but what if even during work you could make an impact on someone: actually care about them, or just be a nice human for once. What if all our actions have consequences.

So I guess that’s what I’ve been worried about lately. Will my sister die. Is anything in life worthwhile. To which I guess the answer is still, yes, though sometimes we can lose sight of it.