25/11/24

After coming home from a trip to the library, I decided to watch the Guts Tour film and the way that I was sobbing in anguish while screaming along. I've never been to a concert before, but it seems extremely cathartic to scream along to songs that have emotional baggage tied to them and just release them into the buzz of sounds around you. I'd probably get a pounding headache afterwards though, and be extremely broke too.

I've been finding it hard to be there for other people emotionally. I just don't know whether I should offer a solution or just provide support, but even if I provide support, how do I do it? It's even harder since it's over text. I sound very, uh, disinterested, when I text, and I find it so exhausting to fake my texting tone just to sound more upbeat. I think as I start to take my own emotions and problems into my own hands, I'm finding it hard to help others. Perhaps it's a spite thing; I didn't feel supported when I tried to lean on people in the past.

I also don't want to sound like a therapist with the whole "I'm sorry you feel that way" or "let's try to communicate this". Communication is so fucking hard. I also make sure to tread lightly as to not say the same things to others which people said to me in the past, which I felt were invalidating, dismissive or holier-than-thou-I-know-you-better-than-yourself. Am I more concerned with sounding correct and inoffensive rather than the person's emotions at hand or am I just being considerate?

I'm excited to start reading Breakfast with my Two-Tailed Cat though! Manga and books are my lifeline these days, I swear.

I don't know whether I should create a separate page to track the manga I've read or lump them into my reading log. Or should I make shrine pages for each series I like (essentially all the ones I read)? AHHHH enough talk I'm gonna read bye.

22/11/24

I have no idea how I'm going to get through 2025. Or 2026. Or any other year after this. 2024 has effectively broken me and my outlook on life (which was only hanging precariously by a thread since the pandemic anyway). I feel so frustrated with everything, yet I cannot get myself to care about anything strongly anymore. My emotions change 971 times in a day and I feel like I'm going insane.

I live for the small things every day. The smell of food cooking in the air, the sweet, crisp apples and pears I indulge myself in, the books that whisk me away into another world. There would be nothing else that could bring me guilt-free joy other than this; the purest, rawest, most unadulterated form of calmness.

When I think of more "ambitious" things that could bring me joy - making friends, being in a relationship, travelling the world - I feel sick. The joys which they bring are inevitably intertwined with anxiety, heartbreak, risk - implications. Small things are harmless, there is no risk involved. My anxiety is not triggered by staying in my comfort zone.

I'm aware that I cannot be in this unhealthy mindset for my entire life, but the thought of hurting my mental state again is enough to convince myself that this is a worthwhile way to spend my one and only life.

People will always reprimand me: "You'll never know if you don't try! What if it's different this time?"

I've hoped that it would be different time and time again. And I end up being a loser, time and time again. I got sick of trying, can you blame me? Perhaps I am just deeply unlikable, inherently selfish, and difficult to handle, like they said I was.

I know people always tell you that what you say about yourself is overexaggerated, but isn't everyone flawed? Why can't I just admit that I am these things and try to live with my difficult nature? After all, it is only I who knows myself the best.

Personally, I don't think that people ever change at a fundamental level. I believe that everyone has an ingrained nature that stays with them for life. It just takes continual work on their behalf to actively condition themselves to adopt a new way of thinking or being that is more socially palatable; this is what others perceive as their renewed character.

It's just that I find it too exhausting to keep it up, so I choose to hide myself away from the world instead.

21/11/24

There's been a sudden cold snap, and it's bringing out the urges to hide away in my warm room, cosied and curled up. My worst fear has come since starting this blog - a sudden lack of enthusiasm and interest to work on my site and write blog entries. I remember when I first started this website, I felt so much excitement that I was creating my own virtual space with my own hands, and worked on it every waking second for days on end.

After a continual bout of depression, it was the first time in months that I felt alive, that I felt like I had something to give purpose to and wake up for. I fear what was initially fun has turned into yet another thing that I project my perfectionistic tendencies onto. Writing in my blog has become more daunting ever since the thought of people who I know finding out about this surfaced in my mind.

Consequently, I began to censor my words. Whether what I was writing was appropriate or not lingered in my mind. I couldn't bring myself to write my true feelings, the things which would make me truly hated if people found out. I know physical diaries also exist, but being able to put it to the screen gives my thoughts and feelings a sense of concreteness, that they actually exist.

I also have a massive fear of people perceiving me as a bad person. In school, you were always taught to count 10 seconds before you posted something, to think of whether or not you would say such a thing in real life, or how you would feel if this was leaked to the mercy of your cruelest classmates.

Evidently, I paid due attention in school because these thoughts halted me from releasing my deepest darkest secrets on the web; what you put out there cannot be taken back. But I cannot help but feel so insincere to myself and the purpose for which this blog was created - to be authentic. You don't need a public website to air thoughts that can scribbled in a private journal, but maybe it's my ego that feels the need for my pain to be validated by whoever lurks on my site.

I have also found my attention being drifted away from my blog, towards an argubly more stimulating distraction - Tumblr. I know, I know, I KNOW I vowed to myself that I wouldn't get social media again, but I had never used Tumblr before and told myself that it would be different.

Now, I'm not so sure. I feel the addiction creeping up on me again, even though I'm not compulsively checking the site for social reasons or likes. It's an addiction more similar to the likes of Pinterest and Spotify, both of which I also deleted. It's the compulsion to visit these sites because they provide audio/visual comfort, especially so for Tumblr, because of all the fandoms. The very fandoms which give me comfort.

It also doesn't help that I isolate myself from others in real life, so I feel a need to be part of an online community - I'd go insane otherwise. Where else would I find people who are also overly sensitive and have the same hyperfixations as me other than Tumblr? But I also fear that by leaning into my chronically online nature (I've been playing flash girl games since I was 5), I won't be able to grow into a person who actually lives life. That scares me a lot. But comfort is also nice.

I struggle with balance. Between indulgence and discomfort, I swing to either side, but never rest in the centre.

15/11/24

I know that big corporations have a much tighter grasp on my data and digital footprint than I would like to admit, but deleting social media has made me feel like I've taken some of that power back. Sure, companies know what I'm searching, but I fear that I care more about whether or not people I know are able to access any glimpse into my life.

I deleted all of my social media accounts to maintain personal privacy and boundaries. I feel indescribably safe behind the mask of anonyminity, but I must not get complacent. It makes me ill to even remind myself of how performative social media is. Your activity is constantly being aired to and scruntinised by strangers, who feel emboldened to define you by your actions because apparently people don't make mistakes anymore. You simply are not allowed to fuck up anymore.

In many ways, social media has permanently altered how society views anything. Beauty, political correctness, gatekeeping. Even something as seemingly innocuous as internet trends. One trend I especially detest is the "big-back trend". Or the selfish rise of Ozempic use. And the normalisation of toxic and often downright cruel behaviours, towards others and ourselves.

Whatever's encouraged online seems to seep into our real life interactions; it's hard to find someone who doesn't think or look like the algorithm these days.

Maybe the internet is a cumulative cesspit of human nature, but the more wholesome side exists too, you'll just have to dig a little deeper.

12/11/24

I miss a lot of things in the past. I miss feelings, people, sights - but is it actually my memories that evoke fondness, rather than the object of my affection? What I mistake for memories could just be fantasies fabricated by my brain to fill in the gaps that naturally reveal themselves as time passes by. It's as if distance truly does make the heart fonder...if it remains at that distance.

I find that the closer these fantasies come to being reality, the more I am repulsed by them. Things that I hated in the moment I long for in the present. I look back on memories with other people with fondness, only to feel discomfort with increasing proximity to said person today.

I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which prompted this train of thought. Sure, it might be less painful, less agonising if we could forget things we deem as regretful. But memory is an integral part of humanity. To remove our memory, our emotion, is to remove our humanity.

Why do we regret? We regret because we feel as though it was time and energy wasted on something that didn't last. In truth though, nothing lasts forever. Everything ends eventually.

That's not to say that we should never experience anything because we'll inevitably get our hearts broken, but rather a sign of encouragement to make our lives as colourful as possible by experiencing everything and anything we desire. To go out of our comfort zone, and still feel accomplished even if we failed to make it "meaningful".

11/11/24

I think the term "identity crisis" implies that being confused about who you are is simply a one-off phase that you'll get over in due time. Perhaps that's why I feel odd for constantly revisiting my sense of self - even though our identity is dynamic and malleable.

Having the courage to form your own opinions is always a socially risky move, but I also find it very hard to ensure that my opinions are wholly my own. You see, I have a very polar mindset; everything is either right or wrong. Hence, I often find myself with flimsy opinions, rooted in fickle self-assurance. I'm always consulting Reddit, opinion articles, and even Goodreads and Rotten Tomatoes to confirm that my opinion on culture, politics, and personal dilemmas are correct, if not tolerable by outsiders.

To unapoplogetically love or hate something seems idealistic; we'd risk social isolation at best, and discriminatory abuse at worst. We'll always have an innate tendency to assimilate. Is it a privilege to purposefully deviate from the norm? Probably.

But I've been thinking more than ever about the possibility of living a life of subtle revolt. That ranges from being childless, unmarried and living off the grid, to simply buzzing all my hair off. It's the liberation from the shame that I'm not feminine enough just because I don't wear makeup or keep up to date with fashion trends. It's the authenticity that comes with not selling and exploiting myself to be perceived as a high-achieving, employable worker.

Conformity frustrates me. Though I fear that I'm walking into the illusion of individuality, only to find myself being boxed into another social category.

My biggest fear though? I'd hate to be that young person who sees themselves as "different from this generation", only to be exactly the same.

7/11/24

wrong person, right time

I got recommended this video by Michelle Gia when I was in the depths of processing friendship grief a few months ago.

I resonated with her words so much, and I wanted to share them here:

If you're going through something similar, I hope you can find as much solace in this as I did.

3/11/24

The main reason why I decided to start a NeoCities site was to find comfort in the company of internet strangers (even if it's only through guestbook posts and exploring the intracies of people's sites). I find that it's awfully hard to meet people who I find interesting in real life, and it shouldn't come as a surprise given that there are so many other humans out there. It's simply not statistically possible to find your community in one place.

Since I've started, I've smiled at the thoughts and mundane life moments shared by strangers and have admired their art, code, and passion for their interests. It reminds me that not every person is as painfully vapid as the ones I've met.

I also shove the contemplative microphone back in my face as to question if I'm the problem. Is the person I'm presenting to the public really me?

Perhaps that is why I keep meeting the wrong people. I don't let my true self see the light of day, hiding behind a more placid and palatable character. Mostly, I fear that I'll scare people off by not being agreeable nor sharing common interests, but isn't that the premise as to whether or not you should even be talking to that person?

I want to be bolder in my quest to find community. In the meanwhile, I'll continue writing notes from Earth.

3/11/24

I have revamped the entire website simply because the old design didn't feel right. Nothing feels like me to be honest. I simulataneously love and despise minimalism and maximalism. And combining the two would be plain gross. Generally, I prefer minimalism because it reduces sensory overload, but then it gets to a point where I feel a lack of individuality and creative expression. Then I revert to my child-like maximalist ways (cue rainbows, pastels, and ornate details), only to feel overwhelmed and tired by the sheer amount of energy.

I constantly feel like I'm trying to fit into existing visual styles and aesthetics instead of embracing my own unique choices. I also get sick of things really quickly, whether they be profile pictures, wallpapers, music, and yes, my website designs. I've always been that way since I was little. Loving toys but getting real sick of them quick smart - not great for any parent's wallet.

I guess the only fix for this is to have a minimalist main site, then going all out on my shrine pages. But even that sounds tiring...

1/11/24

I think my daily routine literally consists of sleeping, eating, going to school, and messing around on the internet. Sounds more sad outside of my head, but I enjoy it.

I've been getting back into reading, and man am I on a ROLL. I've read around 6 books and have started another 3 since September. I don't know if that's objectively a lot but my mind has been taken to so many wonderful places that it feels as so. I've also finished about 3 new shows, and found 2 new favourite movies (I LOVE LADY BIRD). Perhaps a need for escapism is the catalyst for my newfound passion for books and films, but I'm glad that I'm finally taking time to indulge in my own happiness~

Time is our most precious possession (alongside the planet, our bodies, and our empathy), and we need to spend it on tending to our own mental garden.

31/10/24

Happy Halloween! Random thought. Having this blog fills me with hope and relief. It's like the safe space that social media couldn't provide. The anonyminity is great for an oversharer like me; it gives me great peace of mind. But I cannot help but fear that people I know will find me online. It's silly to think of, but often times I wish that I could be scrubbed from peoples' memories. It's slightly disconcerting to know that a version of me could exist in someone else's mind.

But it's so tiring to constantly pretend to be someone I'm not. So this outlet is needed.

All I want is to love and to be loved, but I also have the strongest desire to be a free entity, a wandering soul, an adventurous spinster, not caring about the world nor its' conventions and constructs. I want to devote my life to making the Earth a better place (odd for a usual nihilist), and savour life's flavours without restraint. I hope that I will have the courage to live this out, and to not let others' expectations steal the joy from the one life I have.