anniversary

 everything and nothing has changed.

Oct 1st

Everyone talks about vulnerability as if it is something to be applauded, but those who show off their vulnerability are the most invincible, who have convinced themselves that there is nothing to lose.

Is that true vulnerability? Or just a reflection of personal things they have deemed so out of touch that it doesn't hurt?

the feeling of an ending

I lost my thoughts from last August. I remember sitting on this little chair in the hallway of this hostel in Kyleakin, writing while Shallows by Daughter was sang to me through my earphones. The silks of the sun melting in the sky, leaking seamlessly through colours and clouds. Incandescent hues of honey and blush. A latter blue, the warmest colour. Those thoughts I have left in my diary, now left in a hotel room in Macau and lost and gone forever.

I wonder what I was thinking back then, what those thoughts contained. Were they of peace? Were they of realisation or reflection or pondering of life? Those thoughts, then put into words, now obliterated.

I remember feeling lightness, not anticipating what would come in the following months.

The subsequent entries, of the mess in September, of losing my mum in December, most of those I rather not remember. I'm alright with forgetting.

Maybe one day I'll learn to leave it all behind.

For today, I wonder.

The song is now forever attached to that memory.

almighty

what makes a person believe in the existence of God? is it the experience of the deity itself? an overwhelming goodness in their life? or just knowing there's a higher being who created you? i have tasted the sweetest of love. a love so pure and warm. but rn i can't see pass my tomorrows. surrounded by sadness and darkness. even His extend of hand seems far.

I think the part I cannot comprehend most is that i am a creation of God. me, ugly, broken, mistake. me, undesirable, disposable, non-valuable. i'm running out of synonyms for unworthy. I just don't see how people can treat each other with such condescension and disrespect and expect us all to be children of God.

relapses

The hands on this clock just ticks away. It doesn't ever stop, or pause for a moment, or go backwards for a little bit, it just goes on and on and I'm trying to keep up.

I don't take care of this body as much as it tries to take care of me. I bruise it and I harm it and all it does is heal, never complaining for all the bad things I had done to it.

I can't take care of myself. But maybe, if I stood in as a third person pov, I could. I would lay clean clothes out on the bed for me to change into after a shower. I would cook or buy myself healthy meals so I would get the nourishments I need. I would tidy this desk and this room and tuck away the mess in piles or back where they belong. I would clean the dirty dishes. I would put away the groceries. I would. Do all these things for myself. That I can't do myself. Maybe the only way for me to take care of me is to pretend for a moment that I'm not me.

Maybe today will be better.

in every version of my dream, and even reality, i am at fault.

Effortless

"I'm trying."

"Try harder."

I think the world has lost colour since you left

My mistakes seem so much more prominent tonight. I've begun writing again in the past few weeks, a habit I try to upkeep. These words don't flow like they used to. I find it difficult to understand how I'm feeling most days, much less describe it.

An incredible yearning for a different time, a different place. I have always wished to be somewhere else, sometime else. But in recent years I'm not sure where else I could escape to. I've become cognisant of all that I would miss about this moment right now if I were to fast forward, or rewind. But still, I so deeply wish to. Or at least be given the assurance that things would turn out okay, that it doesn't get worse than this.

Every day is short lived with nostalgia, longing, grief, remorse. Some days it feels lighter, but it gets heavy again. It takes time, right? That's what they say. So many tasks in hand right now I wish it would just bury me, stress me till I. can't. think. This mind is the most treacherous thing I can't leave behind.

I dream about her every night.

Precious

I take the things that mean something to me, clutch onto them with these calloused hands, called them mine and never wanted to let them go. I hold onto them, afraid that if I were to show them to you, they would just evaporate.

If I had shown them to someone else besides myself, would they lose their meaning, or do they become less real, less personal?

turning point

dysfunctional

the past few years of hurt and experiences have engraved so much change and ugliness into me. i no longer recognise who i am or who i aspire to be. i had wanted such a different life i don't know how to live this one. i look at myself and wonder who could ever find this beautiful. i keep wanting more more more. i wish i could erase all these traces of hurt and pain and trauma. how do i rid me of myself?

Things I've learned from grief

1. It gets worse as time goes on
2. You just feel sadness and loss and sadness and loss and sadness and loss and it's never ending
3. Things won't actually get better bc what you lost will never come back, but it will get better in the sense that one day you won't be as affected by it anymore
4. Constant emptiness in the space of absence
5. Guilt and grief easily intertwine and you don't know how to tell them apart anymore
6. You're okay but you're also not okay
7. It gets so much worse as time goes on
8. You do everything besides what you're supposed to do, bc subconsciously you know that nothing is the way it's supposed to be
9. You feel uneasy for feeling sad due to the time that it has gone on
10. You start to mess up or forget details about the person but you can't double check with them to get it right anymore
11. You worry one day you'll forget everything or most things about that person
12. This doesn't mean they were insignificant, but you get upset thinking you'd be better at remembering if they really meant that much to you
13. You see them in everything you do
14. It doesn't come a day that you don't miss them
15. You wonder if anyone feels the same as you do, but it's unlikely as everyone experiences grief differently.

I think I'm writing this down so it becomes something tangible, so these thoughts don't become as fleeting as the memories of her

charm bracelet

I think I always liked myself a little rougher around the edges, makes me easier or harder to grasp depending on who is trying to.

after her leaving

So much that has happened over the past few months, and I wonder how the world to me could mean so little to someone else. I think what I have realised is that even as time goes on, no matter what happens the world does not stop for you. People will still continue living life, falling in love, falling apart, falling down from buildings, going in and out of places, buying new things, disposing of things; go to work, climb a mountain, start anew.

We keep growing bit by bit, and despite all, I do still wish people would have cared enough to show a little care to me. I am incredibly blessed in the sense that I would not be here today without them. But still I am stuck and fixated on the parts they were not. I wish I would be able to conjure the end of the crossing of our paths. People in our lives come and go, and it is perhaps selfish of me to think that I could keep them forever. Maybe it's just time to let go of them, instead I feel like I'm forcing them to stay when they themselves do not wish to.

I think a lot about the words 'purpose', 'meaning', 'value'. All the sorts. What the words themselves bring and how to quantitatively measure it. I wonder if anything that I am doing is even of value, of meaning, of purpose? I don't feel passion or enthusiasm for much of what I do anymore, much less life. I'm not giving up on it, but much so pondering if I am where I should be. I always pour myself into the wrong people, the wrong things. I always feel like everything I try and invest in are futile.

Suppose we should still look forward to what we have and have yet to lose. Little blessings harbour itself in the most unexpected and unseen places. But somehow it almost feels absurd to be happy or celebratory over anything since the loss of her. How can people celebrate life when I am still mourning over the loss of one? Life in itself has its way of contradictory and irony. Who knew absence could occupy so much space?

Every year I feel myself being forgotten more and more. I wonder what sorts I'd be up to on my birthday this year to make myself feel less so. Much so, I wonder if I'd even still be around. I ball up those thoughts, the burden of imminence and tuck them away in my dresser drawer, tidy and unheard.

impermanence

 what in this life is permanent?

i look back at moments where there was a gap in pictures and it was almost like i never existed. i look at social media and think how it would be to erase my digital footprint almost completely. i look at memories and wonder how much of it is altered or blurred or forgotten. i look at people and think of how we could experience the same thing but perceive the experience so differently. i look at us and wonder how we are exactly the same person and also a completely different person from who we used to be.

everything on earth is ever-shifting. who's to remember any of this or any of us years from now?

everything is only real only to us. it will be as if we never existed.

my heart dies every time i think of you or see a picture of you or miss you

i must be doing so much that makes you so disappointed in me

i dont know what else to be.. i dont really know what else to do

it's been more than 2 months and i'm still not quite sure how to function

2019

lost so many things that mattered to me