afterthought

Yay to the fact that the app is still alive and around.

But..

To be honest, while I still lurk and read the posts, I’ve started to grown a little detached. I no longer feel as inclined to post because I don’t know if it will suddenly decide to vanish again. Besides, the community has also grown a little distant. Friendships have formed, been taken offline, and there they have stayed. I don’t think it would be a place where I’ll have the opportunity to make connections that go further than leaving some comments and liking someone’s posts, vice versa.

Perhaps I just am the sort to make friends through the more conventional ways. There are friends I’ve made over the years for whom I can’t really offer up an easy and quick response when someone asks, “so how did you guys meet?” but then it was almost always still through face-to-face meet-ups, even if those happen in the most unlikely times and circumstances.

Oh well, I guess I’ll stick to the same old, and stick to posting here instead.

And.. the combination of sourdough bread, avocado and copious serving of no-salt organic peanut butter… simply divine.

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is this the end?

I wonder if this meant that the plug has been pulled for good. There were a couple of April posts that I think hadn’t been exported, and I don’t really get how come the downloaded posts from the file don’t seem to show any images – each image has this little circular cross icon – but oh well. At least I still get to retain the text, and I’ve the back up of almost all the posts already anyway.

I’ve been so tired this entire week it feels like a totally different life I’m leading now. There were things, such as household chores that I had time to do then but now I’m just wiped out the moment I step into my home that I don’t really want to do anything, besides the fact that time just wasn’t on my side as well.

Maybe I’ll need to think about how best to economise my time so that I can still get the minimal done, including laundry.

Or hopefully with time and as I get into the groove of things so to speak, I’ll be better able to juggle this life and not feel so worn out.

Indeed.

Changes by radioactive

I picked up the pieces

That you left behind

Gone is the dawn

Out comes the sun

A new day’s beginning

Yesterday’s gone

Tomorrow’s a mystery

No battle yet won

Sometimes it’s better left alone

Sometimes it’s better not to show

Some things were better before

Some things not the same anymore

Well life’s full of changes, they say

Life’s like a flower

Fading with time

Ticks by the hour

Till the journey is done

Left with a memory

A glimpse of the past

Just for a while

I thought it would last

(Chorus)

Life’s full of blunders

Betrayal and lies

Regret’s not the answer

For the strong will survive

Somethings it’s better left unread

Somethings it’s better left unsaid

Somethings not the same anymore

Well life’s full of changes, they say

Changes they say, changes they say

what counts as worthy?

Recently I had been reading.

By recent, I meant the recent months. And by reading, I meant… maybe a couple of books here and there, not extensively like what it might seem to sound.

I read books that are often categorized as self-help, which sometimes attract a rather negative opinion from some, those that some people turn their noses up at because they feel what’s being written in such books are common sense, or that the recommendations are too generic, fluffy or whatever. But there’s a reason why the self-help literature is so extensive, and why bookstores devote a sizeable (I think) real estate to these resources.

I can’t speak for all or even a significant part, but there are self-help books out there which are really worth their salt and can be very life-changing to their readers. I was introduced to this researcher by a friend who recommended me a book she wrote, and it contained so many precious gems of takeaways that had me nodding my head unconsciously in agreement at so many junctures.

I watched some of the videos where she went on Oprah’s show and also a couple of TED talks.

In one part, she mentioned how we need to make connections, and making connections involves sharing about yourself, letting yourself become vulnerable to this other person, and at some point hopefully it becomes mutual and a deeper connection can be formed. Ok these are mainly my thoughts in my own words, but she cautions that we don’t just go out and share everything with everyone hoping to connect with them or see who we get lucky with. Instead of me always thinking about imposing on the other person and burdening him/her when I share, she talked about how the other person needs to earn that privilege to hear what you have to share, that this person must be worthy.

I suppose that’s like flipping it around. But I always feel bad about sharing because I fear that I’m spreading negativity or colouring the meet up in a dark light.

Thing is, I’ve been sharing with friends, and with the limited things I’ve read so far, I can perhaps already sort of distill who are the ones I can continue to share with and who aren’t. There are some, whether they are or once were close friends or even family, who just don’t belong to this category and at this point maybe I just shouldn’t spend too much time and effort on now.

That being said, of course I know to be mindful that in sharing, the purpose isn’t to just vent and rant, it’s done with an intention to connect, and through this sharing, ultimately it’s still towards a healthier and happier me.

I really don’t need to give people or things a chance to make me feel shitty about myself, on my own, my thoughts are really well able and competent to do that. There are so many times I seem to be the only one who bothers, who enthuses about a meet up, who tries hard to reconnect, only to be made to feel like the biggest idiot around because nobody else cares or bothers, and that they have other things more worthy of their time than you.

I’m tired

Of everything.

Yet I can’t help what and how I feel.

The debilitating sense of hopelessness and helplessness seeing the numbers registering on the weighing scale every morning. It’s an obsession. It’s enslaving me to it. And I can’t break out of it, feeling relieved and comforted only when the number is low and secretly happy when it reduces to a new low; in stark contrast, flying into an anxious muttering and hot tears forming uncontrollably when the number creeps or shoots up.

What is this we are dealing with?

When will we see its end?

When will the shackles be loosened and liberated for good?

I’m tired, I really am.

Adding on to the incapacitating sense of worthlessness, the aimless drifting in life from year to year, engaged in jobs that are inconsequential and that do not seem to really add any value to anyone or anywhere, what some people sneer at and deride as fluff, useless and pointless “work”.

There are lots of literature discussing and advising on how to have a life that is fulfilling, and how to make even the most mundane and invisible job become purposeful. It’s all in the perspective and how we make it out to be, they say, but that applies for those with a healthy and strong mental state, no?

What about those who constantly struggle within themselves, trying to accept that their existence actually serves a purpose, and that they are actually equipped with some useful traits that can be beneficial to at least another person? How do these people first climb out of the deep, dark rabbit role before they even begin to embrace a job and find a greater purpose and meaning in it to seek fulfillment?

Sleepless nights. When the world snoozes in deep slumber with the night reaching its darkest watch, I toss and turn, unable to fall back to sleep after only a measly 4 hours. It affected how the day went, floating like a zombie listlessly and weakly. Finally the cloak of night has descended again; perhaps tonight the fatigue brought forward from last night can put me through a longer and more restful sleep.

Zzz.

I wonder…

On good days and in good moments, I would constantly remind myself to practise gratitude, to give thanks for the little blessings that God bestows on me. For the most insignificant small wins that I count towards making a day better, to help bring a little twinkle to my eye and a light, wistful smile to help make the day a tad brighter, even if the dark clouds have eclipsed the sun entirely in an ominous foreboding thunderstorm.

It is always on the days that are not so good, when the tiniest setback could trigger a whole chain of negative emotions that seem to interlock with one another to grip you and your sanity in an iron-clasp hold, dragging you into the deepest depth of the ocean floor, anchoring you there with the heaviest anvil that makes you powerless in struggling to break up through the surface of the water for a life-saving gasp of air.

 

Today, I met with a friend whom I have not seen for a while. As we chatted, I was glad to see that she seemed truly happier, and I hope that is indeed what the reality is, as compared to the last time when we met and I felt a tinge of sadness for the bitterness that dripped from her words which I thought ensnared her. Maybe she has truly learned to let whatever it was eating at her go.

I didn’t face similar demons that she did back then at work, but I had my own to deal with, which to this date, I am still fighting to get to know, accept, and let go. Healing takes time, and I don’t know how long it will take.

 

Social media has its good and bad points. There are times when I would browse through my social media feeds and feel extremely worn and lousy, filled with envy and jealousy, even bitterness and resentment, when I see beautifully-curated snapshots of other people’s lives, even if I know that is just what it is, curated fragments.

Yet social media also has its merits. Through it, I have come to know of more varied lives beyond my own. I have come to know that perhaps the life that I have may be one that someone else dreams to have, even if there are so many instances when I have felt only abhorrence for myself and my existence on this earth. There are people who are literally living from day to day, giving thanks for each morning when they wake up because it is one more day claimed from whatever terminal illness they are fighting.

Each of us face a different set of struggles. That’s why our lives are all unique.

I don’t know what lies ahead, but I can only take it a step at a time, a day at a time, and if this is not it, then I will move on and not let it define me, not let it defeat me, not let it cause the crash that almost led me to commit the greatest sin of all.

long awaited rain

I think it hasn’t rained for a really long time. It’s relative when I said long, but it just felt like an extended dry spell accompanied by scorching heat has hit us even though the year is only just beginning.

So finally it rained yesterday. I’m not everywhere for obvious reasons so I haven’t seen rain for a while until last afternoon.

Hello rain.

It wasn’t just a passing shower so thankfully it helped to cool the parched ground substantially. Much needed.

How long will it take to get me out of the rut?

How long more will I ‘enjoy’ this period and will I bemoan its passage when it’s finally over?

So many things going through my mind that I might want to do but instead I’ve chosen to put them on hold because ‘what if…’? As usual, I’m doing all of them in the safe confines of my mind but in reality almost none of them translate into tangible action.