⭐
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
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
i forgot my headphones at home. i was about to either
1) pump black country new road
2) watch brooklyn 99.
i miss being passionate about things, not being able to sleep, eat, speak,
or fathom anything beyond the apple
of my eye and the fruit of my thoughts.
i miss waking up with one thing in mind, how i would explore it that day, and how i would explore it the next
it’s been people
it’s been sewing
guitar
driving
religion
philosophy
photography
writing
filming
blogging
i think, regardless of any tik tok data explosion with the intention of ripping out each of my brain cells to keep me submissive and docile because of a wrecked attention span, i’m not a girl of her commitments- i get bored.
and i am bored. i feel this lack of passion so deeply in my body, its been a catalyst for the recent crashouts ive had ( and there’s been plenty) i don’t know how to stay, and work hard, and allow myself to grow to what i want to be right in this instance. not to shine my own shoes, but i’m not super used to being bad at things. i’ve always always always coasted, and now that im trying to be a gaf (give a fuck) filled girl, ive realized, sucking at something hurts a lot more when you’ve put in the work to be good at it.
if it wasn’t me writing this, and my best friend called me and told me this word for word, i would tell her how normal that feeling was, and that she herself knew what to do; commit. and that is my advice, dear sweet amalia, commit, commit, commit.
Feb 18, 2025
