On Letters, Drinks, and Unspoken Thoughts
Some people say that the worst years of living ranges from the window between your youth and teenage years. And I used to think and see life that way. When you are young, people think you do not know anything. Love. Politics. Art. History. Whatever you do, your words will never suffice their standards of you. And no matter how it should never even be, you get reduced into the walls of the short span of years you spent walking this earth.
It is frustrating. Very. The battle and the process of freeing oneself from the societal shackles they binded us with is life-draining. Waking up everyday feels like a gigantic black hole is birthed inside me, sucking out every ounce of breath and hope in my skin. And I remembering craving for time to run. To finally get up, hold my hand and drag me to anywhere far but here. I dreamed of a better today. Of a future and an adulthood where I get to finally have the chance to be myself and be heard.
But growing up and having to one day wake up and manage your whole life and validate your emotions when you were used to being pushed back in the sidelines and always invalidated is a really painful and difficult process to undergo to. Something that is close to an idealistic view—more of a wishful thinking, even. It takes time and a deep and immense stretch of understanding not just from other people, but also from yourself towards your own being. It demands great acceptance for the many bad days ahead where it would seem that all else are bound to fail. Acceptance towards the fact that the path is never linear for anyone and how despite that, we still have all the chance to get back on track again.
The past few weeks have placed me on a really tight and rough spot. The world feels so far away from me now and I feel so behind—so lost and just out of reach. It feels like sitting on the dinner table with all the expectations of you standing tall before you, stacked high and unstable on your plate, and you do not know where and how to begin eating. And ironically, in contrast to how little the world sees you when you were young, getting into adulthood presses you down with the expectation that by then you have to know everything which when you look closely, it is actually even deadly.
Coursing through the monstrous waves and high tides of adulthood is something that we are all bound to get on to one day. And as much as how unfortunate it is for me to have to set on the travel as of today, I am still grateful for being able to last this long and far. I am still unsure of what lies for me tomorrow and the coming next days with no dreams for me to hold on to, but I suppose here comes my love for surprises comes forth into the picture. But until then, there is still some healing that I need to embrace to.
*(Hello, thanks for reading my venting. LMAO. Anyway, hoping you a great one ahead. xx)*
***Photo still from movie Ladybird (2017)***
I'm at a Loss
It has been a long couple of days—of deafening silence and taunting loud. Wherever I look, I still see you. I feel you. I hear. And so, I would try to close my eyes, then, I would return back. I remember. I remember my life. In the momentary still darkness, I see the remains of the thin sliver of shadow of the pile of problems that I forgot that I have. And without any signal, I crumble back again in the hollow comforts of my bed. To the ground. In a heartbeat.
I have been thinking about the many other things I could still write about. Things that would pull me away from your scorching and harsh red lights. But I just can not seem to steer away from your intimidating gaze that pulls my entirety, sucking in every thread and fiber of sanity I can ever devise in me.
I was never vocal about my political grounds. It is something I always try hard to do, not because I do not know my place, but, rather because of how dangerous my space can turn for me just because it does not mirror the ones that the people around me are standing on.
And so, I remained silent. I looked at their words and stared down at every crevice and curve. I memorized every metaphor and swallowed each disrespect. I let every rude remark slide because I know there can never be enough words to change a made up mind especially of those who are seated in front where the sun shines gloriously the most.
Now, after days and moments of praying and silently hoping for justice to prevail despite the crucial and the critical steps, and only to see the numbers falling down like the angels casted down and expelled from the gates, my heart grieves. I feel like something is slowly losing its life in me and I can not seem to do anything for it. I feel so anxious and sad and scared for what awaits ahead of us. I am so heartbroken for the ones who still choose to look the other way. I am broken for friends and family who expect me to still be at my best despite the fact that I might just lose all the hope I invested in a blink of an eye.
I am at a loss for words. For life. For motivation. I am still trying hard to grasp the reality and every possibility this loss may take me. I just hope that the others are right all along and I would thank them on bended knees. But for now, I hope people get to learn to let a broken heart grieve.
*(Thanks for reading. xx)*
**Image Source:**
https://www.pinterest.ph/pin/831617887456607631/
ballad to a love lost
...
*As lipsticks and coffee stains,*
*your name is a memoir*
*scarred on the folds of my lips.*
*A favorite rhyme*
*from a poetry written a long time ago*
*in classroom desks and fresh painted cream walls.*
*Our stories are polaroids*
*tucked neatly in my sleeves.*
*Although for you, they seem to be wax statues*
*melting away*
*under the ticking of the clock.*
*But I wish I am mistaken*
*like how I usually was.*
*We have grown so much, so fast*
*like the cars passing by downtown.*
*And I wonder if anyone would*
*ever remember*
*how we used to be.*
*The pictures of us reflected*
*on each window rolled up*
*went away with sweet summer,*
*and I hope I should have spoken something about them.*
*But the weather's always too fine*
*for regrets to be served at breakfast in the mornings.*
*And some sorries are better left off unsaid.*
*I say, I hope you know*
*that I am an open shed under a heavy downpour,*
*the blues on the safe skies,*
*and the basil green light.*
*Because you made me bleed*
*and the hurt felt good.*
*Yet, some pain just never really go away*
*even if there's nothing left of me.*
*You see, I fell hard alone.*
*Bumping through your flags and bombs*
*sticking out in directions*
*I thought were meant for me to take.*
*We were all so young*
*and we smelled of better tomorrows.*
*But my wounds are not yours to mend.*
*Still, I hope you would stitch me up again.*
*You left me with a couple of promises.*
*And I hanged them on the walls*
*of the home that I am,*
*so, whenever you feel like running away,*
*you'll find a familiar place in me to stay.*
*I do not need your love.*
*For I know there was none in the very first place.*
*I just wish you don't forget*
*the wishful thoughts and toothy grins,*
*and the tears we held back*
*the moment we realized we have gone too far*
*from where we have come from.*
*The dead and still years*
*behind us mean nothing to me.*
*Call me whenever you find it hard to breathe.*
*Or when you find yourself lost in a crowded room*
*with people who badly wish to speak*.
*I'll sit beside and listen with you.*
*Hold your hand until we get the right translations.*
*I hope my silence will reach you*
*As yours cradles me to sleep.*
*I wish you throw me down,*
*not with roses*
*but of tulips.*
*For your hands aren't mine to break*
*with my thorns and silly messed up state.*
*I am your person.*
*One of your life's what if's.*
*Your home.*
*Please remember me.*
***(Hello! Thanks for reading. This is a poem that I wrote and come to really love and I hope you enjoyed it as well. xoxo)***
**Image Sources:**
https://weheartit.com/entry/243444330?context_set=187109290-pleasing-to-my-eyes&context_type=collection
Rolling Into My Gamer Era: Who Would've Thought?!
I kid you not, but if you would have known me in real life and you find out that I started playing League of Legends just last month, the chances that your brows would skyrocket over the roof goes beyond three-quarters of a hundred percent possibility. Because even one of my best friends did when she found out that I have went into a totally out of character lifestyle.
You see, I used to never really get the logic behind plaving video games. My thinking towards playing games was the same as to how I perceive Mathematics, Sodoku, and Rubik's cube—I just never get them. I did not get why people would deliberately choose to sit down over a corner, grab the electric fan all for themselves, and waste 30 to 45 minutes of their day just for a single game to only double the squander for another and three more!
I used to look at gamers, specifically those that I know, under a single grey light. I saw them as people who have bad mouths, love to flame others, and are individuals who do not really care about the rest of the world other than themselves. And I know it was really awful for me to think and see others that way especially that they have not done me any wrong. And I was so wrong and even worst than how I portray them to be in my head. And I feel so bad for judging people first, only to adopt what they do now.
Actually, to be very honest, getting into video gaming is probably one of the best things and decisions in life that I have gotten to experience and make. I have understood why people love it so much and why they invest time, energy, and even sometimes money on it. Playing video games takes you places. It brings you to other universes, lifetimes, to different versions of history, and let you experience the endless possibilities of being alive. It is so much alike with reading books—it consumes you and frees you simultaneously.
I gave up my reputation of being a "good student who only has her eye on books" because I felt so misattuned and lost. For these past couple of months, so many things happened and I felt so unattached to reality, to my people, and even to myself. I developed toxic and really self-destructive habits like not sleeping for long stretches of hours and other times just sleeping in, causing me a very messed up schedule and tons of piles of undone responsibilities.
Nevertheless, this may sound really idealistic, but getting into gaming gave me a zone of focus. It helped me clear my mind from any destructive thought and even widened my social reach. I have made a few friends, albeit I lost some along the way but it was better than how I used to do. I made video gaming some sort of a reward whenever I finish my classes at the end of the day, and I am telling you, for the first time, I feel more connected to the present these days and I have now something to look forward to each day which is a huge difference to how unmotivated the potato that I was months before.
So, if you also play League of Legends: Wild Rift, you are a legend! Let us play sometime, too! I am currently on my way to rank up to Platinum 2. If you wanna have some fun and roam around the rift together, just comment your ign below. See you!
*(Hello! Thanks for reading! I really love writing about my new hobby which is playing League, and that is why I actually only wrote this piece for 30 minutes! I hope you enjoy, see you around! xoxo)*
**Image Source:**
https://weheartit.com/entry/351247101?context_query=archive+video+game&context_sort=most_popular&context_type=search
To the guy who sleeps first...
*saturn in your hair,*
*yet fingers softer than wine*
*thou sweet ironies*
*—silvered why's // claementine*
Remember the haiku that I wrote you? Earlier today, I was fumbling through my notes app and found this somewhere together with my other abandoned and unfinished poetry entries like some old oranged memories pushed back in the corner of our minds. I might not have mentioned it to you back then, but I don't really write haikus a lot. It just isn't my cup of tea. But because you said it was one of your favorite things, I decided to actually give it a try. And I loved it a lot. And honestly, for the very first time, I wasn't shy nor even the slightest of scared of having you read it unlike how I usually do. And that's when I knew, you might be my person.
You were so good to me—too good that I sometimes cannot believe that the moments we used to have were real. And I just always remember how beautiful our energies come together as if our souls have known each other for years then. Everything was all golden to me. Waking up each day then never felt any lighter. And with you, being alive felt so liberating.
You taught me so many things. With you, I have come to embrace the bittersweet aftertaste of honesty and patience. All the things you painted on me, I shall never forget. Even if it also includes the sounds of your steps fading away as you walked back and how I never noticed. Of the every night I waited because you have fallen asleep on me. Of the every 'it's all right' I tell you and the many 'I'll make it up to you' that you spewed. Of the every mail that you sent that went fewer and fewer as each of my breath counts and how I never noticed. I shall never forget each of the sign you dropped and how I never noticed—of how I never seen it coming that I was losing you.
To the guy who sleeps first, I wish you know that I was never mad at you. Never did I ever felt betrayed for being left behind every night even until you finally dropped the final close. I respect what you feel and even the feelings that you have probably lost along the way. You made me feel loved and you made me realize that I have so much love in me to give as well. I learned a lot. And it was all worth it. And even though I would be given a chance to go back in time and change things then, I kid you not, but I would not change anything. Because people come and go in a blink of an eye. And your entrance and exit was such a painstaking eye candy, and a glimpse of it was everything to me.
*(Hello! Thank you for reaching this far. This entry is a bit personal but because I was feeling a little cold, I can't help but reminisce the past. Hope you still enjoyed, tho. xx)*
Before.
The only memory I had with Harumi Kim was on that particular spring day of 2004. The January heat was sweltering and sweat trickled like river waters down my nape and temples. It was the week's PE day, as far as I remembered. I was slumped on my back on the middle of the school field. I can still recall the warm and rough feeling of the hard asphalt on my back. And the skies were then pale blue, and clouds took majority of its vastness, yet I could clearly and oddly picture out stars hovering over me. I tried to get a feel of my head throbbing after a basketball flew out of nowhere and knocked me down on my feet.
My ears felt like an ocean wave was rolling inside them. I blinked hard multiple times, steadying my sight and noticed that the stars had then turned into a picture of Harumi above me. Her loose dark curls swayed gently past her shoulders and her wispy bangs were blown lightly like an open parachute midair. She was mouthing something I could not make out, inaudible.
*"Daijōbu desu ka?"* Her wide round eyes stared intently into mine and a flush of embarrassment rushed into my face.
*"What?"* I muttered under my breath. She was still for a second before grabbing both of my shoulders a little too hard, sitting me up. I glanced behind her, to the other students in our class frozen on their feet. Ah, yes, we were playing basketball for the semester. I guess, the ball came rather somewhere than what I thought was nowhere.
*"I asked, are you okay, Parker? I'm pretty sure I've concussed you. Can you tell me how many this is?"* Harumi lifted her right hand and sticked out three of her fingers. I nodded my head a little and reached for my nose. I wasn't even surprised to feel warm blood on my fingers.
*"Oh! You're bleeding. HE'S BLEEDING!"* Harumi cussed and yelled in her breathy and rich oriental accent right on my ears.
*"Were you just talking to me?"* I winced and tried to stand up. She boldly grabbed my arms again, pulling me up from the dirt.
*"Well, I'm not sure. What do you think?"* She whispered and raised her left cuff sleeve and wiped the blood off my nose.
*"Wait for me here, okay? Do not throw up."* She winked and ran back off to the other kids and Mr. Nolan, saying something, pointing and glancing at me every once in a while before running back towards me again with a small smile smudged on her lips. *"Come on."*
Blue Lake High School's nurse's office was depressingly huge, dark and stark. There wasn't any windows for breathing and light. The room smelled of Lysol and cheap detergent which worsened the atmosphere hanging above. Harumi swung the door roughly and placed a plastic bag at the foot of my bed. She took out its content and spread out various of local convenience store snacks. She sat down on the bed with her legs crossed, stabbed a straw on a banana milk and handed it to me with a blank face.
*"What are you doing?"* I blurted out, eyebrows creased, puzzled of everything about her.
*"I don't know. Well, what about you, Parker? What are you doing?*
*You see, I spent two thirds of my allowance on this. So, take it."* She sighed softly and waved the bottle in front of me.
I stared at her for a few beats before taking the milk, skeptical. *"I mean, why are you doing this?"*
She gave me a toothy grin that showed both of her dimples. *"It's how my dad say sorry to people,"* she shrugged off her shoulders and stabbed another milk bottle for herself. *"And I'm starving as hell."*
Harumi and I went to almost all the same classes together in high school. But I realized, it was the very first time we ever shared a conversation—the first time we ever get to be that close. It was the first moment I heard my name rolled out of her lips dressed in her strong and confident accent. And two months after that very day, after seeing chrysanthemums sitting on her desk and locker, I realized that it was the most beautiful sound my name has ever worn.
And I was afraid that it was the only and the last time I'd ever get to hear it.
*(Hello! Thanks for reading. This is a piece that I wrote back in 2019 when I was so passionate about starting to write a full-length novel. Unfortunately, this only has three parts. Nevertheless, I found that I really like my writing style back in the day so I decided to share it to you guys. Hope you enjoy! Comment if you want to read the next two parts! xx)*
**Image Sources:**
https://weheartit.com/entry/340940153?context_page=3&context_set=187404819-aest&context_type=collection
https://weheartit.com/entry/276054931?context_page=6&context_set=32668893-photo&context_type=collection
https://weheartit.com/entry/256499264?context_page=22&context_set=32668893-photo&context_type=collection
https://weheartit.com/entry/262217633?context_page=31&context_set=32668893-photo&context_type=collection
https://weheartit.com/entry/178745299?context_page=48&context_set=32668893-photo&context_type=collection
The Mechanics of Friendship: Why Do I Struggle with Keeping My Friends?
It is something that never fails to bug me everytime. Whether I am in between being busy or in times when my mind is at rest, such question keeps on popping up over the top of my head like some lightbulb of an idea... because why in the earth do I struggle so much with keeping friends and keeping my social circle intact?
Firstly, I know that I am one of the biggest introverts out there. But, I also know that despite that, I was born with a sliver thread of skill on how to make friends with other people or igniting conversations first. I have met lots of people for the past years of my life from personal interactions and even online. And although I have had my fair share of tough times trying to put myself out into the world, most experiences went well, even better, than how I expected them to be.
***Hence, why do I struggle and sometimes even fail to keep people in my life and keep some friendships last long?***
I believe this all has something to do with my emotional unavailability. And this unavailability of mine I believe stems from the challenging familial structure that I am still trying my best to outgrow and free myself off. And this painstaking process makes me feel that I can never fully present myself out there to other people and it is true that others do not deserve halfhearted parts of me while they are willing to give their all.
Because social connections go two ways. And one can never flourish when one of the parties cannot meet the other at the halfway. I believe I still have so much fixing and understanding of myself that I know I need to do before it is the right timing to finally choose to decide to walk side by side with another person. And above all else, all I ever am sure of is that that time is surely not today. However, it does not mean that I do not crave the care, affection, and attention, because most days, I really do. But there is always more to the threads of human connection that goes beyond our need for love. And I always see that.
Thus, to all the persons that I felt wished to be part of my life and to those who even tried to get in, I see you. And I really do appreciate you. But I can never be true to the world if I am not one for myself first.
*(Thanks for hanging around up to this far. I wish you all the love and the good things in the world. xx)*
Image Sources:
https://weheartit.com/entry/322402727?context_page=2&context_query=friends+archive&context_sort=most_popular&context_type=search
https://weheartit.com/entry/248739337?context_set=147631323-friendship&context_type=collection
The Art of Ghosting... Minus the Voodoo
There is nothing more twisted than when the alive does the work of those who have passed—metaphorically speaking. Not to sound innocent, because I, too, am guilty of ghosting my way out of things, it may be a class meeting, a conversation, and especially out of a few budding relationships. But, I would also bet that you also have done the ways of the supernatural maybe once or twice just to save yourself from doing the dirty work. But what really is ghosting? Why do we do it? And how come it has become a very usual, close to a normal thing today?
According to Wendy Rose Gould in her article titled *What Is Ghosting? An Uptick Has Occurred in Online Dating*, ghosting is a recent colloquial term which is used to refer to the act of cutting cords with people and situations in a very abrupt manner without any words thrown and given. Which basically tells us so much just by the term of it. Ghosting is literally burning bridges in a blink of an eye; an another kind of goodbye minus the courtesy, the waving, and looking back. And the specific variety of ending that happens without any warning given.
And despite how ugly and hurtful the whole process of ghosting appears to be, we cannot deny that it has become so rampant that it is close to becoming a normal way of bailing out oneself out of social affairs and relationships. It has also come to a point where most people expect others to eventually fall into the spiral of such act later on their relationship which has lead to numerous batches of conflicts and arguments for many.
I personally even have witnessed countless of friends who were ghosted and I have also seen numerous other great people who even did the ghosting themselves. It is a really tricky and complex concept of people pulling and pushing each other, because even I, who hates those who leave without any warning raised, have ghosted a couple of persons just to save myself from discomfort.
But the discomfort and uncomfortable situations and conversations are the key to a person's growth and prosperity. And ghosting hinders such opportunity for us to become vulnerable and honest to ourselves and other people. Ghosting ties us into the past and keeps our hands full with questions of why's and what could have been's. It anchors us and keeps us stuck into old memories and even imagined ideas.
I believe people who resort to ghosting as a call to ending connections have difficulties in expressing themselves and their emotions. They see the process so challenging that they forget that the person they are dealing with is a human being who deserves enough decency and respect to receive a reason as to why the relationship shall end here and then. And oftentimes, people who get ghosted never see things that way. They think that the fault blossoms from them and whatever they have done towards the person which is a very cruel remembrance someone can ever leave a person with.
Nevertheless the kind of brand ghosting has had over the course of time, it will always inflict people pain. No matter the number of jokes and memes people make about it, it can bleed and struck someone with scars that could last for lifetimes. Ghosting should never be celebrated.
*(Hello, loves! Thank you so much for reaching up to this part! Don't forget to upvote if you liked this article and share as well your thoughts on the comment section below. XOXO)*
**Image Sources:**
https://weheartit.com/entry/314200547?context_page=3&context_set=160845047-scorpio-moon&context_type=collection
https://weheartit.com/entry/302032488?context_set=160845047-scorpio-moon&context_type=collection
The Forsaken Mess Behind Illicit Love Affairs
It has happened again. However, this third time probably was the worst when it did come. Because when a choice you say is a mistake and happens more than once, you just know there is nothing left to hope for anymore. There is no longer enough fixing to suffice the cracks, nor chances of going back. No more love left to give, because they have at last finally reached the ground after falling in. There is no more than anything but acceptance. Acceptance for the ones that we lost and things we chose to drop. Acceptance to the fact that finally, we have come to the end.
And when endings happen between the person you hope would always be there for you—who were supposed to be there for you, no words could ever suffice the kind of cold you feel in your stomach. It was like something has died in their sleep in the comforts of your very inside. And you cannot help but question why the passing of something so beautiful and pure has to be, craddling the lifeless shell inside you, because no one would ever do. Then you try to ponder and wonder of all the almost's and what could have been's. Of the dreams you pictured life would be like when you wake up after you turn 20. The ones that you whispered to the moon when you were six inside your bedroom at 12 in the morning when you could not sleep. You wonder where could all they have been now? Have they all gone lost in the air or buried along the curvatures of the fading calendars? How did we come up here?
And yet, you still try. Despite the vague and the unknown, you try to look at excuses of what led us here. You try to understand why they had to put a period instead of a comma on our skins despite how it all goes against all the logical ways you could think of because you know that's the least that you should do. Because nobody is perfect and you know it. You try to understand, because, even you are not an exception to the possible flames for we all carry the same potential of doing it. You try to understand because everyone gets lonely at times and we all long for the kind of love we think we deserve. And maybe, they have just found it on other people instead on you.
But how long does the fine line of understanding someone breaking you over and over again goes? Where do you go when both of the people who were supposed to be your home break apart and walk away? How do you move forward with the world while being stuck with one foot in hell?
*(Hello, thanks for reading up to here. This piece is some sort of a "venting out." This is everything I could ever put into words with whatever I am feeling right now. Nevertheless, I hope you're doing great wherever you are! Have a great day ahead!)*
***(Images are all from wehearit.com)***
Before We Fall...
I have decided to end it all.
Little by little. Piece by piece. Like taking out parts of a puzzle finished for years only to build it again. This is the only type of control I am fluent at. The only kind that seems to sound closest to logical in my ears.
I have been thinking about the afterlife and those who have fallen. I thought of the cold waters and sharp silvers. The smothering grasp of the shadows after the war and the capsules. I pondered what would suit me best and my personality; and I realized it's to try hard to breathe in the midst of wanting not to.
I am going to crush my skull and all my other pieces into fine dust. I will wake up and wear my gummy smile on my sleeves until my cheek numbs, and I get to finally go back to the ground again. To where it all began.
Do you, by any chance, want to know why?
My ankles are chained to the roots of my family. The rusty binds are engraved with the debts I have earned for a decade and eight years until present for being a child having so much necessities. I am a parasite ought to strive and build dreams to give back what I had taken. This purpose is a lump in my throat. An eyelash stuck in my eye. But at the very least, no matter how, I have one reason to actually continue to flow with time. But having one is not going to be enough to suffice the flame inside me. Humans need to build actual goals to be able to keep up and push ourselves out of bed in the mornings.
Life is a tough crowd. And I will never get why other people make it harder. The gentle voices in school tell us that the hardships will hone us and turn us into diamonds from the rough. But I guess they forgot that diamond is not the only kind of stone there is. Some stones are softer than the others. Some gems are not tough as they seem to be. And others break easily under too much pressure.
You see, the funny thing is that all my life, I was taught how to get through expectations. But it amazes me how a heartbeat, a bat of an eye, and a little sigh can change someone's entirety. Everything seems like someone else's memory now. The person that I was yesterday seems like a whole new somebody. A stranger, to be precise. And my heart swells thinking about how I just lost a major part of me without even noticing. There was zero warning or red flag to keep me checked. All there was that came to me in sudden, was a surge of blue and grey heartache. It was the kind of ache you feel when you remember an old lover's perfume. The kind of longing that is similar to the one that crosses your chest everytime you turn around, and see the left side of your bed empty at midnight.
And there was no particular reason at all. The stimuli of how the dominos fell back was nowhere in sight. I could not say why or how I am in pain because there was nothing to point out. I remember one moment, I was feeling fine and then there was nothing. The blue and the void came to me like bored people coming in and out of a store. There was no clear cause why they came. They just did. But they sure made some rearranging. And I can say, they both took treats with them on their way out.
And I swear, it would have been, at the very least, a little better if I can tell why, so that I have something to first start with. Because perhaps having another person or thing at fault would lessen the weight hovering above me. Maybe.
Or perhaps if only I have a dream with me, a blueprint of plans I'll be taking in the future. Or a flame igniting my soul to go on. Maybe having them would keep me from turning the tables and from taking the wrong bus. Maybe they could have saved me from drowning and choking into my own food. I don't know.
All I know is that I'm a step close to falling off a cliff. And no one even noticed. I have told a couple faces but they remained unbothered after spitting some old advices that was supposed to lift my spirits off, but none did.
I don't know. Who would have known.
I have read about the spiteful nature of life in books, but I guess it's true that knowing will never be enough. Awareness can never save you from an actual fire. And neither will other people. Well, that's how it works in my case.
*(This is a letter I wrote back when I was 18, a year ago, for myself. It was one of my toughest years and I have decided to put this out in the world to spread comfort that you are not alone in whatever fight you're facing. I have been into one and I have fortunately got past it and big chances are, you could, too. You matter. You are loved. Thanks for reading. xoxo)*
**Image Link Reference:**
https://weheartit.com/entry/198491814?context_page=4&context_set=187477342-aha-crisis&context_type=collection
https://weheartit.com/entry/283086162?context_page=4&context_set=130687418-aesthetic-ta-e-ty&context_type=collection
Does Setting Standards Means Being Too Picky?
**Let's talk about love.** There is something about the concept of romance that just engulfs me everytime it gets into the open air. I love talking about love, falling in love, being loved, and sometimes even the times and affairs where it has to be let go off. But, the funny thing is, I have never even had experienced the kind of love I always prayed to have, yet, I still cannot get tired of it. I love picturing about the love I know will come to me in the future. And I also sure do love recreating my list of standards for the person I am going to say yes to forever with.
I have people call me as being 'too picky' towards others which they say is the reason why I could only count the persons in my circle using one hand and even also the one reason behind why I have never been into committed relationships before. And although there was one time where that used to offend me, I have realized that it was all true and it is something that I should not be ashamed of. Because I have experienced and seen firsthand multiple shades and personalities of people that have been the lift that led me to this position. And I would always choose to know what and who are good for my sanity inspite of being called picky than let the world shove the best of me on the sidewalk.
I believe there is nothing wrong for listing down standards for people that you think only deserve your energy. There is nothing wrong for being too picky with people who you let in your life especially for those who you choose to be with for the rest of your lifetime. Setting standards for other people is some sort of self care. It is an act of embodying your worth of having worthy people as well.
Nevertheless, it is also important that setting boundaries and standards goes in two ways. We should also learn how to create ones for the better of ourselves for we can never demand the best in others while being at our worst and not try to do anything about it. Setting standards for ourselves is also an act of respect to our value as individuals and persons who deserve all the good things life has to offer.
***(Hello, love! Thanks for reading up to here! I truly appreciate your time. I hope you have taken an insight or two from my words above. And if you like, you can share your thoughts about setting standards for your potential significant other. I would love to hear your mind. Feel free to share your ideas on the comment section below. Have a great day ahead! xoxo)***
**Image Sources:**
https://weheartit.com/entry/331484895?context_page=6&context_query=archive&context_sort=most_popular&context_type=search
https://weheartit.com/entry/360104093?context_page=5&context_set=186095634-rkive&context_type=collection
https://weheartit.com/entry/344209859?context_page=8&context_set=184650265-archive&context_type=collection
https://weheartit.com/entry/350939138?context_page=5&context_query=couples+archive&context_sort=most_popular&context_type=sea
@noodlezip
