Scatteredfafa

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. ...

In a blink of an eye, there are only 4 months left to another new year.  I would like to first congratulate all of us for surviving. Survival has been the ultimate goal these two years. Despite the many disappointments and regrets over what-could-haves, I am immensely grateful to be alive. I'll leave the more thoughtful and tear-jerking 'essay' reflecting the year in December, I just want to whip up something short about my thoughts and feelings on these past 8 months. The first 3 months was me being burned out and busy with moot competition. People say, "To do one thing that scares you every year", I've gotten that out of the way early on. They were dark days filled with anxiety and nervousness. Surprisingly in the midst of it all, I still had a lot of fun. It's the first time in many years that I finally allowed myself to relax over studying and not to punish myself too hard. I'm really glad I took that leapt to step out of my comfort zone, even thou...

22k cases. My mind can't wrap around the logic of how this is happening. I believe everyone is as fed up as I am. It's a frustration that's brimming and even the lid is flying off, the whole being about to explode. It's an invisible itch that appears to be crawling along every inch of the skin. The question that haunts me, driving me up the wall to yell at everyone: "how the fuck did we get to this point?"  I've been like a lunatic. Randomly saying how life is meaningless and making jokes about how stupid everyone is. Fake it till you make it they say. Waiting for someone to inject hope into the wound swollen with pus of despair. I have a great imagination, but it has failed me, because I cannot imagine what could make me happy today or even in the future.  I love being busy, I don't like my mind. Ever since the lockdown, it has just been a constant inner fight. I can never go to therapy because I'd feel bad for wasting the therapist's time and...

Just watched the news, it's heartbreaking to see the devastating condition we are in. We can cry and we can be angry, but we must never lose hope. We must do the best we can with the bitter lemons thrown at us. We have to focus on things that matter in life and appreciate every little thing that is good. Be kinder and more thoughtful of others. Care more, it doesn't hurt. Be there for someone who needs you. Make someone laugh, make sure they know you're there for them.  Because right now, everyone could use with a little love and laughter.

I miss life before this nightmare. I've compromised the 'new normal' which requires face masks in public and wired my brain into not standing too close to people, but now we are thrown back into isolation, and it's driving me crazy.  I'm immensely grateful that I get to cower in a comfortable home and wait out the 'war'. But it's getting depressing and not doing anything to help the situation fills me up with guilt and I feel ashamed to even feel what I feel, let alone express it. I know I'm not alone in feeling this way. Some days I remember that life needs to go on and to focus on the things I can control and appreciate life, but some days I cannot find the will to get up from bed to face another day of bad news. It's a loop of dejected sighs seeing the rise in numbers and self pep talks to maintain the hope that things will get better. It's tiring to get up each day just to trip again and again, wondering when it will ever end. I cannot se...

I've wanted to learn many musical instruments in my life, but I'm not good at any of them. Music has never been my forte. I cannot even sing. I can never remember lyrics or the tune or pitch, anything that makes the song, a song. My sister always says that I ruin the song for her after listening to me singing it. Well at least she'll laugh when she listens to that song now.  I don't have the voice of an angel. That's fine, but I don't have the fingers for music either. Tragic. Or maybe I'm just lazy and impatient.  My parents have always wanted us to have the opportunities they didn't have when they were younger. Hence, the typical ballet, piano, swimming lessons etc; but I was inelegant for ballet; Piano never interested me; Swimming? Young me preferred to drown, thank you.  The first musical instrument I've ever touched was a green colour guitar at a club in Pulau Tioman when I was 6. (Amazing how I can remember what that guitar looked and felt lik...

I have not been writing much. I've been talking to myself more. Trying to understand what is this weight that makes my heart so heavy. I feel like an outsider, a third party watching life happen around me. It feels like I'm on a rickety bridge of uncertainty, afraid to risk that run to either side of the bridge. I just stare at the churning water below, wondering what I should do next, trying to convince myself if I can be brave enough to jump, I might find myself having wings.  I'm anchored, by what, I don't know. A mime trapped by her own box.  I think I need a push.

Before the pandemic, I used to wake up at 4am. I was very much deeply entangled in the 'Hustle Culture' (Which drove me crazy, but this is a story for another day). But because of the depressive state of being in a pandemic and a competition which required me to stay up late, my sleep schedule has gone into disarray and  I have turned into a perpetually yawning sloth. It made me feel horrible and great at the same time. Being sleepy must be one of the greatest pleasure in life. It's equivalent to being drunk to me. I'd confess to crimes I didn't do when I'm sleepy.  Anyways, I still like mornings better. Sleeping in makes me feel irresponsible and days seem ridiculously shorter. I don't want to waste my youth on sleeping, I get to do that when I die. And of course, sleeping and waking up earlier is essential to be in the pink of health. I'm happy to say that I'm back to a sleep pattern that I like. I've gotten this idea to write this because my f...

At the start of quarantine, I was thrilled to be able to do online classes. It meant I don't need to socialise, don't need to face terrible humans or be stucked in traffic jams which I could feel sucking the life out of me. (Pinterest) Me in my fluffy bath robe and 150ml of wine for the antioxidants every other night. Time passed, online classes for my final year in University has come to an end, and we are still stuck in quarantine. Again. To be honest, I'm starting to get.... lonely. A sign confirming that I am human with social needs. There goes any hope of me getting notified that I am actually a mermaid. I have caring friends and a loving family, but I still feel lonely sometimes. It confuses me too. I talk to my family everyday but sometimes I just feel this pang of emptiness. My friends seem to be living busy and fulfilled lives that I'm always scared I might be talking too much (which I know is absurd). I'm always alone in my room and although I love being f...