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. ...

I have arrived again at a crossroad. The arrow signs are crooked and unwieldy. My compass has gone haywire and I can feel the invisible tugs coming from every direction. A choice has to be made, but my heart is heavy and my legs refuse to take another step forward nor backward. It's a strange predicament to be in. Knowing the sky is the limit but yet struggling to fight off the feeling of being chained and restrained. I've been standing at the same intersection for some time, trying to calm the nerves that frizzled at every bird that flutters past and to hold on to hope that dwindles at every light that dims. Time flies, ignoring my silent hopeless pleas of stopping just for me, a wretchedly lost girl.  And so I come, to the comfort of words, to listen to my heart. I've come back to swim in the swirl of my thoughts. I shall now sit and listen at the crossroad. Soon, I'll see my path and walk it with faith. 

I find my mind drifting to the future recently. Imagining the days I would have, the life that I wish I would lead. It's so fun decorating the house I have in my mind. It's like playing sims social or cafe story (My knowledge of games is limited). I would probably still stay here in my little town. I love my little town. The other place I might consider moving to is Ipoh, no explainable reasons. Maybe it's the rumours of good food or the excellent people I know who come from Ipoh. I actually love the current house I'm staying. My room is the best place in the world. But if my parents want to sell it and move back to their hometown, and my sisters are married, I'd want a small little apartment. Like those in F.R.I.E.N.D.S but I think that would be difficult or impossible to find here. It's not going to be minimalistic. Decorations would be everywhere, souvenirs and gifts from loved ones or places I've travelled to, all displayed in the living room. There woul...

Olympic drama, politics, plague, people etc! So many things! So many problems! So many hate! So many evil! I'm moving to another planet, where love grows flowers and tears heal all wounds. I'm just tired, knowing very well that I have not done anything for the fight against evil and contributed nothing to the world but I still wish I can bring joy and hope amidst the chaos. I don't care about drama where it just involves pure hate, not scandals and conspiracy theories. Politics hurts my feelings, I can't believe how selfish politicians can sleep at night. If I think too much about the coronavirus, I don't think I can function. It seems like everyone is preoccupied with either one of those things right now, I wouldn't want to be a bother. And so I isolate myself and I write. I've been writing everyday, but I never finish any of them. Conversations with myself has increased tenfold and I have this nagging feeling to be a whole new person and start a new life. ...

Healing is a process. Self love, a relationship with yourself is like any other relationships, it's not perfect and sometimes a turbulence hits.  I've just realised that these few days, I have not been true to myself and it has caused me to relapse. I don't know where my mind went, I wasn't conscious. Doing things that I don't want to do and being a pathetic beta. Let's call her out shall we.  Few nights ago, a group of friends of mine wanted to have a call, I didn't really want to but I went anyways. I was quiet the whole time, I felt even lonelier than being alone. I've never known how to end or leave a call, and so I stayed on, and I hated myself for that so much. It's not their fault. I wanted to be part of their group. I messed up my own sleep schedule and neglected my own feelings, and ended up being really angry at myself. The old me wouldn't have done that, the old me cared about me. I need to believe that I'm good enough that people ...

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 don't think I am an extrovert but I'm not entirely an introvert as well. Maybe I'm an ambivert or an introvert who tries to be more extroverted. Here's how my social life goes:  I like talking but I prefer listening. I love going out with people who have many things to say and I get to just sit and listen. I can be very talkative and I do have a lot of nonsense, fun facts, jokes and gossips packed inside me, but sometimes I wish people would tell me stories and make me laugh instead. I love collecting stories like the Grimm brothers. I call anything anyone says as stories. Questions like "How are you" makes me uncomfortable. I'd have the itch to talk about how I felt when I woke up that day or how bad my PMS was last month, but I'd suffer from inner panic because I don't know where to start and end up just awkwardly avoiding the question. Some days I can call my friends for no reasons at all, while some days even replying to a 'Hi' takes ...

(Tortoise) Capturing the beauty I see through my eyes. Here is the link to the song - Late Night Melancholy . You should listen to it while you read this. I've never thought "hmmm, hmmm, hmmm, hmmmmmm, hmm" would be my favourite song, but it is, and I'm writing to say how much I love it. I wish I could listen to this song on the train. Everytime I'm listening to the song (which is 24 hours since it's on loop non-stop in my mind), I imagine myself as a swaying tree with flowers snowing down or a drugged hippie in my own world. It fills me up with melancholy as its name promises. Sometimes the 'tearful and life is meaningless' kind of melancholy, and sometimes the 'everything happens for a reason and I'm where I'm meant to be' kind of melancholy. It makes me miss people, the ones I knew and strangers I don't even know. I hate it but love it at the same time. I guess I'm addicted to being sad for no obvious reasons, crying is catha...

I had a video call with a close friend for more than 2 hours and then jumped from one chat box to the other. I was only talking to a few people on the same day, and now I'm ready to slam every door I can find and ask the whole world to shut up. Really dramatic. I don't know how people do this. I've seen my sisters' chat boxes and how she's always on the phone, the amount of notifications alone is enough to give me anxiety.  I love my family and friends, I really do, but catching up can be so tiring! Socialising for too long switches on my bitch mode (Okay, bitchier mode). In real life, I would just stare at everyone without saying anything, being passive aggresive, now I just ignore people. Do I feel bad for being like that? I do. But I can't help it. I get so angry I don't even want to look at the people I'm with. Sometimes I think I only enjoy reading text messages from people, anecdotes of what they've been up to, but I don't like replying. I...

(weheartit.com) (The Hobbit) I like quiet solitude. The nights I'm alone, locked in my room, reading or solving puzzles. I have more hobbies than reasonable to have and a ferocious appetite to find more games or interesting skills to learn. It is an innate sense of mine to be Jack of all lanterns but master of none.  I desire to be a polymath, everything intrigues me, but I'm perfectly aware that I do not have the patience nor the talent to be highly skilled or excel in anything which distinguishes myself from the mundane. I imagine myself a butterfly, fluttering around every vibrant flowers, yet never stay too long or too short on any. I understand that despite the sky being the limit to available options, I am bound by my own wings and mortality. There is no use being unrealistic but revert to stoic acceptance that I can salvage what I can, and ignore what I can't. Having spent ample amount of time on self-reflection, I have come to the realisation that I'm like a Hob...