Romanticize The Past

Hi.

I have recently realized that people have the tendency to romanticize experiences that are more temporary than others.

What I mean by that is when a person goes on a holiday trip, he or she is most likely coming back from the trip wishing they had decided to stay longer, visited more places, went to the place more often, and constantly revisiting memories that had happened during the trip, and forgetting about the bad things that went along with it.

I am guilty of doing this. I went to Bangkok and came back, wishing I had done things a lot differently, but still happy with how things turned out. I thought about Sunday mornings and how I missed getting woken up by the recordings outside, when in actual fact, I hated those things. I wish I could spend my days with my course mates in a building, when I actually disliked people who come to our room as and when they please.

We, as humans with feelings and emotions, romanticize these memories, thinking that they were more than they were, just because they meant more to us than they probably should. When we miss something, we pick the memory out from the others and hold them up to a better posture, seeing them in a much better light than the rest. 

When looking back at past memories, people will most likely only remember the good things. We are just programmed to work that way. No matter how awful or amazing your destination is, you'll always remember how much fun you had during the trip. I think people need to be more impartial and subjective to realize what went wrong and make sure that never happens again.

But I guess since things are constantly changing, we might as well make full use of what we think we enjoyed in the past.

I hope I haven't bummed you all out, and that you're feeling fine.

Good evening.

Empty | Full

Hi.

I don't think I've ever felt this lost.

I don't think I've ever felt lost, really. Right now, I just feel like I don't know where I am in life, and I wake up thinking, "if I don't exist today, would things be any different?". It's horrible, because it only applies to the present. I know where I stood months ago, and I know what I'll be doing years from now, but I don't know where I am right now.

There is just no drive, no meaning, and at the end of each day I look back and realize how empty the past few hours were. Sure, I was busy in school and probably had superficial conversations with people, but that's just what the day was. Superficial.

It's odd, because I've never felt this way. To be honest, I've never really seen myself as someone with feelings. Close friends would probably tell you the same. I used to just go by day after day, no matter how shitty and depressing one was, I'll be back smiling and making horrible puns after. I've never seriously worried about the future, let alone the present, and just went through each day, being the quintessential spokesperson of "going with the flow". But in a good way. Now instead of riding the waves, I'm going with the flow in a way that could be better described as "getting dragged by waste water down the sewers".

I just feel so, for the lack of a better word, empty. Yet simultaneously full. My heart has been so heavy, but it is full of nothingness, of emptiness. My days are empty, the messages app on my phone is empty, my wallet is empty, there is nothing tangible in this planet that would make me want to go to church,  my social life is non-existent, I find absolutely no reason to leave my room, and I literally and legitimately do not have any idea what to do or what to think as of this moment. Nothing makes me legitimately and non-superficially happy. The closest I could get is a Peppermint Mocha from Starbucks, but that's only 5% on the happiness meter, and it'll cost me at least 400 calories, and not to mention that shit is expensive!

I think I'm in the depressed state of my Cyclothymia. I really do hope that this is all from Cyclothymia, or else, I'm fucked.

I really hope you're not feeling like shit.

Good morning.

I am very upset

Hi.

I told myself I wouldn't put up the incredibly depressing post below. I had talked to a friend about the issue after all. But I had already typed it out all so neatly, so I might as well put it up.

---

I promised myself that I would stop putting up any form of sadness on my blog and put up more things people might actually bother reading, but it seems like there really isn't a point in having a blog, if you don't share what's really on your mind.

I wonder if anybody's actually had feelings for me. Like actually got upset or mad over the little things I did and got jealous and confused over me and thought about me on a regular basis. I feel like I'm the only person that ever cares about anyone and that nobody's ever felt that way for me.  

 - from here

This idea seems much more emotional than it should be. It really isn't. It just reminded me of someone who I thought cared. Maybe he really did, maybe he didn't. But I really felt like he was that one person at the time who gets upset if I blew him off for work or had to hang out with someone else. One who would be upset when I'm upset and try to cheer me up. Someone who would be upset with me if I did something wrong to myself or in my life, and actually call me out on it. It really sounds like he cared, doesn't it?

I wish I hadn't been so cold and emotionless back then. I regret all the intentionally ignored phone calls, declined invitations to hangouts and parties, and incredibly late replied messages. But then I also blame this person for not saying anything, for disappearing into thin air, and for not giving this whole thing closure.

I'm too upset to be talking about this kinda thing in public. When upset, people tend to only remember the good things. Let's try to think of bad things then. He... I legitimately had to sit here for at least five minutes and really rack my brains out for a negative thing, and I could only think of one, but that was partially my fault anyway. He still owes me presents. Aha! Bad thing indeed.

---

I hope everyone's feeling much better than I am.

Good morning.

Finish This Book

Hi.

The lovely Nicolette Koh has kindly gifted me with Finish This Book by Keri Smith, and I just wanted to share a post I have completed from the book.

I sit in Starbucks as I wait for visual prey, sipping a grande peppermint mocha, listening to Ed Sheeran romanticize the most basic form of human interaction. I watch the baristas in their natural habitat, frothing coffee and pumping syrups like they have been doing it their whole lives, and I look at my handwriting with great disdain, disappointed at its quality despite having nineteen years of experience of holding a pen and scribbling it on paper.

There is something about Starbucks that makes people feel the need to be pretentious. I see teenage girls giggling with their friends, taking photos with their drinks, an act I can totally imagine my mother doing. I see a guy in chinos and Doc Marten boots, use his pens as drum sticks, playing a pattern so weird, you just know he is not a real drummer. And then you have this girl wearing a sweater over a collared shirt, quietly judging everyone from a corner of the room and record it down on a completely unsuspicious book.

Whenever I read a sentence I had just written, I instantly like myself ten percent less, seeing the incredibly long sentences that are probably worth only a few words, yet I can't stop writing this way. There is something very comfortable about attempting to sound like a great indie writer despite knowing you actually end up sounding like a douchebag And it doesn't take a sleuth to figure that out.

I hope you have a pleasant week.

Good day.