Scatteredfafa

I'm back. It's 2am. And I have things I want to say to everyone. I'd probably regret it, I mean regretting being vulnerable, not the things I am going to say. But who's going to read this anyways? My blog is like my diary, which I secretly hope someone would read but no one will.  I've missed writing. I didn't realise this until tonight. What have I been doing? So preoccupied to the point I've negected what sets my soul on fire. I'm disappointed in myself, but I've just learned a new word:  "Amor fati", it means love of one's fate, and I intend to practise this stoic way of life. It's Nietzche by the way. Is it fate that I didn't write? Is it fate that it just so happened that I had time to write but didn't feel inspired to? I don't know, it clearly stems directly from my choice to not write, but I'd like to blame it on fate.  I should probably write a little something each night. Maybe I should write stories.  Okay ...

The world is vast beneath me. The awareness that I'm just a speck in the universe hightens yet I feel much more alive and seen than I've ever felt. I stretch my wings wide as the fast wind ruffles through my feathers, urging me to leap off the tallest building in the world and trust my wings will carry me somewhere and my heart will soar. Do I trust the wind? Do I trust my wings? Do I trust the place I'm going? Would trust be enough? I turn my head around and squint my small eyes against the torrent of the wind, just enough time for courage to dissipate and self doubts barges in. Do I really need to do this now? What if I can't do it? What if I fall? Suddenly I can't breathe. My heart's drumming in more fear with each deafening beat.  I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to push the fear down. It is now or never. I will always be afraid, it will still be scary the next time, but each time I survive the jump, I will be braver and stronger. I lift one le...

In a tiny little cottage obscured deep in the forest, with two chimneys and walls made up of twigs and stones, there lives Effie who loves nonsense more than anyone else. She has a head of colourful long hair tied into three ponytails because two makes too much sense and one makes her sad. She has a laugh too loud from a little girl like her and sometimes it comes with tears and a snort that seems to be infectious to those around her.   Her friends live together in the crowded village, because they had said it made much more sense to always be with people you care about. They had frown and tutted at Effie’s cottage when they came to visit, saying it is nonsense to live so far alone. Effie had simply tutted back and ran around her cottage, singing at the top of her lungs.   “Stop it Effie! You’re being too loud!”, her friends had shouted through her singing, but Effie paid no heed because she had moved on to hit on her drums, playing the most impressive beats. When she ...

I stepped onto this crochet journey in Novermber 2021. I'm totally hooked now (pun intended) and I would like to share the learning process, the mistakes I've made and my thoughts alongs the ups and downs.   Click the link below and follow me for updates! Thank you                                                             Instragram link- Crochetcrody Cottoncrody, crody stands for crochet candy. I wanted to name my instagram account (fingers crossed my side hustle which can sustain my sweet tooth cravings in the future) Crochet Candy but apparently this name is already taken, so I had to improvise. I grew to like the name Cottoncrody more. So there's that. After my exams, I was trying to find new hobbies to pick up and something crafty that I can make as gifts for loved ones. I actually wanted to learn how to make scrunchies...

My mind has been swarming with negative thoughts, and the familiar feeling of doom is back. My pores are clogged up with toxicity oozing out from inside me, and the air around me feels heavy, clinging on to my skin, anchoring me to the dark clouds that surround me, drowning myself in a torpedo that no one else can see. I feel very bad about myself. There's so much limiting beliefs that I cannot shake off. People say self-awareness is the first step towards healing, but I feel like I'm still stuck in square one. I'm confused and lost but most of all, I'm scared. I'm afraid of the future.  I'm stuck inside too long. I wonder whether the sun misses me, but then I doubt that, who am I anyways. There goes the problematic self-deprecating way of how I talk to myself these days. There's no need to contemplate on whether or not I think too much, I'm a known overthinker.  Delving in deeper, all I see are my flaws, and I don't know how to look somewhere else. ...