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everyday I wake up with no urge to do anything aside from grunt and mumble and complain about my earthly existence. it’s not until I catch a glimpse of myself in my mirror, crumbs of what existed yesterday as makeup smeared across my face, where I’m reminded of what really matters and who i really am. i get hot and the urge never rests, the three words simply rise and rise and i cant stop my pink little lips from saying it.
‘wait, I’m goated.’
Jan 25, 2024
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It’s been so long since I‘ve woken up and felt inspired to make the day my bitch. I miss being silly, I miss feeling gratitude. I want to notice life again; feel the pulse of the earth beating alongside mine.
I spend my time dulling myself on Instagram, or dreaming about my future in the mountains or ocean or California—somewhere magical where I’m happy.
Be where your feet are. That’s the mantra that was grinded into me a few summers ago. Be present and you’ll be happy. Somewhat, I’ve been trying this. meditation once a week or occasional yoga. But I’m not doing enough to make a serious impact.
May this post be my marker. The year is pretty much still fresh, spring is coming (hopefully), and I pledge to be more presen. I shall wake up ready to happy light and go to bed with a belly full of tea. Let the joy return!!!!!!
Feb 28, 2025
my life has felt like a shitty coming of age movie the past 3 days. i’ve realized, coming home, my blood is still my own, as are my tears and my cuticles. the quiet isn’t unnerving, and i am shaken by the greys, whites, and browns i was so eager to dismiss in light of yellows and blues. nothing, and i don’t mean the lack of something, i mean nothing, feels as though it has for once taken up enough space. looking out the window for three hours does not feel a reminder of what could be or what is, what time may instead be spent doing, but an activity in itself. i am still, better yet, i am fulfilled by my stillness. it is no longer an excuse for exhaustion or boredom, but an entirely new feeling in itself.
3d ago
I don't really know how to start this post, so I'll let out the word vomit.
As days pass, I sometimes find myself more confident, appreciating my physical appearance and grateful for what I can handle mentally and emotionally. Some days I acknowledge I'm smart, pretty, funny.
Yet other times I can't see any of that.
A lot of times I don't really see myself as pretty, incapable of remembering a simple equation, I feel as if I'm a wet towel thrown on my friend's and loved ones. Maybe I compare myself to others often and that's my issue, that I see myself as lowly yet other times I put my self worth as high.
I'm a very back and forth kind of girl if you didn't know already. I do have my moments however when I give in and embrace what I am, a girl who spends more time doing my makeup than studying, and what I enjoy like playing Hello Kitty games when I finish schoolwork or watch reality television, maybe spiral into a rabbit hole of lore after learning about a new game.
But I can't deny the weirdness I feel when nobody understands what I'm talking about.
They say 'to be cringe is to be free' but God does it make you writhe with displeasure when you're the cringey one.
I'm coming to accept and realize that I can be harsh and cruel to myself, especially when it comes to my abilities to perform hobbies I'm passionate about. I've stopped drawing for a month because of these impending thoughts.
It's like wearing a suit of flesh in hopes of getting some idea of what you are for some sense of clarity.
Maybe it's because I am just a girl, or it's the human experience nobody talks about. If we did, maybe we wouldn't feel as alone or awkward but oh well, what can you do?
Slowly but surely I have come to accept and embrace myself despite the faults I carry.
Feb 19, 2025
