sandbag

looks like I'm here again, with nobody to go to. or rather, I do have people to go to but it's the same old shit with me and ain't nobody wanna be hearing woe without reason and listen without trying to fix. if going to someone means I have to pretend to be okay after then that makes me feel worse, so better not. I feel like my mind craves a good cry, a self-beating, something to validate the emotions. emotions are valid, but how do we process them properly without rhyme or reason? I've come to realize I'm quite judgmental; or did it come as a defense mechanism? or with age? haha, as I type this I find myself wishing it's something I can explain away but truth be told it probably isn't. 

I am judgemental. I should acknowledge that. 

I judge people I think are good, and I judge people I think are bad. I judge people close to me and I judge people through the screen. I judge and I judge, I judge me harshest and the worst. no need for self-preservation for a walking corpse, an empty shell, a programmed psyche for smiles and lols. 

this is a good beating. 

revisiting

i have a penchant for blogging with the passing of every year, it seems. it's currently a week into February, but it might as well have been one day into 2021. it feels like the past month flew by, relatively peacefully i think, but also without much thought or reflection.

today i found myself feeling lows lower than i logically think should be. all things considered, i should be quite happy with where i am, yet emotions are something that i've always struggled to manage. i've made strides but sometimes i find myself again caught in a bubble, feeling how i felt during my darkest moments. it should pass today, tomorrow, maybe even the next hour, but in each of these moments they feel as if they'd never end, as if they'd plague me till the end.

someone in a show i watched said that one of the sad things in life is to yearn for something that's actually common and ordinary. barring from devolving into self-pity, i think that's relatable. i do wish i was ordinary. yet, it seems i want to be ordinary in the eyes of most and special in the eyes of a few? such specific expectations are too much to ask for, isn't it? do i care about this because i care about what people think too much? pegging myself to others' opinions and standards? at the end of it all, how do i see myself?

i don't know, to be honest. year after year i find myself being older than i feel, an immature soul trapped in an ageing body. this year, again, i find myself wondering if i'm really 28. i certainly think differently, but i feel the same as when i was 18. and i'm still in a state of conflict between my thoughts and my feelings.