This should be my only social media tbh.
i only live vicariously, never truly
I wonder: Am I unhappy because I’m not pursuing my passion? Or is this constant pursuit of passions the reason for my discontent (and ultimately my happiness)?
When does one move from childish dreams to adult aspirations? Because clearly I have yet to make that leap.
I remain, as I always have, at the foot of the proverbial stairs waiting–– for courage or an unfortunate accident, I’m still not sure.
Maybe the universe will throw a ball down the stairs one of these days. And maybe, just maybe, I might catch it. Provided I’m not distracted by things that obviously do not merit my attention but which I attend to in an attempt to appear normal in front of peers whose approval I will never get nor ever need.
My brain has decided to barrage me, quite intrusively, with thoughts of impossible goals and forgotten (see: presently unattainable) dreams.
I am living a makeshift life–– cruising as I’m going. Always feeling temporary, never permanent; Always changing, never content. Complete chaos in an already disorganized world. And yet I stay.
Sometimes even with fake gusto. Fake it ’til you make, the say. How else will you survive an otherwise dull existense if you don’t feign enthusiasm for the things that keep your life going as it is.
Like a hamster wheel. Running but never going anywhere.
Do I still have time to chase a worn out, faded dream? Maybe.
If I believe in it strong enough.
certifiably deluded
If anyone claims to know how to love, they’re frauds.
Ironic how I’m typing this up mere hours after giving “love advice” to a friend.
As I wore the angst and bitter resentment that comes with accusing people of being unable to know the ins and outs of love, my advice was to love free and let love be.
Because love wasn’t meant to be logical or rational despite this being against my whole nature. It was meant to be savored, not cooked for hours then left to burn.
I played the games. I lost my pieces. I’ve gone bankrupt in the Monopoly bank of falling in love.
Through all that was and is, one thing is clear to me: it wasn’t worth it to be rational or logical. Overthinking how love would play out meant that you were sacrificing the unknowingly little time love has allowed.
Go for love that is genuine and true and doesn’t fry your brain thinking if his “okay” really meant “okay”. Life is too short to be stuck on a problem where a solution doesn’t exist. It’s too short to be chasing a vision that only lives in your head while you miss out on actually living.
You should love free and let love be.
If anyone claims to know how to love, they’re frauds.
I certainly am one.
midyear check in check out
OH! YOU KNOW WHAT, I should do a midyear check up of my new year’s “resolution”.
Okay, here we go.
- Stop the hesitation to write
I’m pretty confident about this one, i’m not gonna lie. The habit to write every day still eludes BUT I’ve been trying REALLY hard and that’s really all I could ask of myself. HAHA - Start letting go of the hurt I’ve been harboring
This was was HARD (given that I was also riddled with intense depression at the start of the year) but is getting easier to do every day and especially every time I remind myself of my worth. - Stop restricting my own potential
I don’t… have a… scale or measurement… for this. But I would give myself a 3 out of 5 stars. Passenger comment: Driver does not follow directions well. - Start staying true to myself
Oh, THIS ONE. this!! one!! I’ve been working really hard on, if I do say so myself. I’ve been rethinking my intentions, my goals, and what matters most to me. I’ve been doing a lot of math too: Subtracting all the unnecessary accoutrements of life (including material things), adding purpose(!) or at least trying to, and multiplying the good universe vibes (wow that sounded so millennial and cliche). My attention is still, disappointingly, divided (lmao). - Stop regretting giving parts of myself to people
I’m doing this by caring ~less. - Start going after opportunities
Okay, this one I, uhm, haven’t done iM SORRY OKAY SHEESH STOP YOUR GRANDIOSE EXPECTATIONS OF ME MYGOD whoa that got away for a second there
Overall, I think I’d give myself a grade of 1.75.
The results so far are definitely not worth a 1.0, but effort I put into being better is.
All the in-betweens are a need-to-know basis
And frankly? No one other than me needs to know.
Til the bed rocks,
Laur
childhood home, adulthood woes
One of the joys about coming home to my hometown is looking through old photo albums and flipping through the pages of my scrapbooks.
Ah, yes. Scrapbooks. My childhood obsession. They were such a joy to make and such a joy now to flip through.
I would spend a whole weekend doing arts and crafts to add to my scrapbook, thinking of ways to cut my scrapbook paper into cute frames for the photos, tracing over posters of W.I.T.C.H. for a dedicated fangirl page (and my equivalent to posting drawings on the fridge door with a magnet, which I also voluntarily do at my parent’s room).
Nowadays, I just stare at a computer screen or play with my Switch. And although my new mechanical keyboard is super fun to type with, it just isn’t the same as using your hands to cut and glue and trace and draw.
Nowadays, I channel all my energy to create with a powerpoint dedicated to mental health (which I haven’t done in a hot minute) and making graphics about mental health (which I also haven’t done in a while). Damn, I haven’t done anything I guess.
In the same way I come home to our old house on the hill every once in a while (sometimes begrudgingly), maybe I should also go back to what I used to love doing. Are we so afraid of anything analog and ancient that I can’t even leave the screen for a day?
Or maybe picking up a gun or a rifle and shooting some targets at my cousin’s shooting range also beats paper and scissors.
Hmm.
Maybe I shouldn’t stick with rock. I don’t think that’s the lesson here.
Maybe the lesson here is that paper beats rock.
Hmm.
Lemme just go back to petting my 9-year old Dachshund.
Or watch Youtube kids with my nieces.
Cope and Wander 