My Greatest Fear

My biggest fear is giving up. More than I already have.

I still have some fight left in me.

I don’t fear spiders or heights but watching someone I know give up, slowly turning into a shell of what once was. That scared the shit out of me.

Not feeling like smiling or talking. Or even dying.

To have stories told of how great they were, the potential they held, and only seeing them as a fraction of this person. Dreams gone, backed into a corner.

My greatest fear is once again feeling nothing, that makes giving up so easy. 

Is Self-Love Enough?

I love myself, it has been a journey but I truly do.

Sure, there are features about myself I don’t like but I wouldn’t change it.

However, as my as I love myself, I don’t think I am “beautiful”. Because I am not and that’s okay. So when someone compliments my appearance or calls me beautiful, my immediate reaction is that voice in my head shouting “liar!”

And I think back to the boy who called me ugly when I was 12. So why am I so quick to assume he is right?

Is the fact that I love myself and think I have other redeemable qualities enough? Or do I need to think I have it all, when I don’t?

Is self-love the absence of self-loathing?

Why Are We So Afraid of Feeling?

I know this is not true for everyone, especially since I am posting this on a site for writers who live off emotions and empathy. Also some people are more emotional than others and are more willing to share this with others; which I admire in a strange way. I am often quite taken aback by this, I wonder how they can be so open with someone who they still deem to be a stranger, yet still are willing to disclose such intimate details of their lives. In contrast to myself who, for the longest time, wasn’t able to share with my closest friends that I couldn’t be around them sometimes because I would rather be at home in solitude, staring at the ceiling as tears ran down my face. Even to this day when I mention these less than amusing events, I laugh it off as a joke. That doesn’t sound healthy but that is how I cope. That is how I don’t fall back into that state because it beats not acknowledging it at all.

The only way I recovered from those times was by talking about it, and even if I talk about it in a lighter tone, it helps. But why was I so scared of talking about it prior to this? Why was I so prideful not to talk about my emotions and prefer to sit in a dark room rather than come to terms with my own emotions?

Did I think I was weak for having these emotions?

Did I think I was strong to not accept these feelings?

Was I worried people would think I was weak?

Why did that matter?

Since when was acting like a human a bad thing?

It seems that basic things such as emotions and empathy are deemed as weaknesses.

And I struggle with this preconception so much.

However I’m learning.


October Writing Challenge: Day 4

Nowadays any view is controversial. I don’t think brexit is the end of the world as we know it, the market will adapt. I believe in a greater being but will never force that on anyone else. 

I don’t have any really strong opinions on anything. Gay marriage. I’ve never had to make an opinion as it hasn’t affected me personally. Euthanasia. It’s important to remember that there’s all kind of different situations so I remain impartial.

I’m against fur. But I eat meat. 

I’m torn on the death penalty (leaning towards for). There’s some pretty shitty people out there. 

I don’t agree with guns at all. 

Gaza needs help. Syria. Burma. 

There’s a lot of things to have opinions about. Sometimes they don’t need to have reason. Other times you must have an argument prepared. But it’s important to know where to draw the line. Just be respectful to people. Your opinions and thoughts shouldn’t be harmful to others. 

Thanks for reading. (And comment below if you agree/disagree with anything I’ve said.)

The 30-Day Writing Challenge: Day 8

Day 8: Take a nondescript sentence such as, “How are you?” Write the same line from at least five different points of view.

Sentence: What’s new?

1. The wife and I have just come back from holiday. We had the most amazing time; saw great sights and met some fascinating people. Have you done anything interesting lately?

2. Saw the best movie the other day. No spoiler but I cried like a baby. Watched anything good?

3. Little Timothy started school. He looked so smart, unlike how some mothers send their kids to school. How are your little ones?

4. So the divorce is finalised so I’m ready to let loose. No hag to nag me when I get home. Any good news on your end?

5. I don’t wanna be here. Nor do I want to make small talk but this silence feels prolonged and uncomfortable so what’s happening in your life worth minor interest and has a possibility to lead to a more intelligent conversation?

Burning Questions I Can’t Answer For Myself

When is it that laughing stopped being so easy. So genuine. 

When did hanging out with friends become something hard to do. 

When did being happy become a chore. 

Its just getting harder. I don’t know why. I hate myself. My friends probably hate me. I’ve been so short with them lately, I can’t help the fact that everything pisses me off. They don’t know that sometimes I feel like I shouldn’t be there, I provide no use. 

Why do all the things I love to do just mean so little to me? Not like a comparison to the universe being insignificant. But insignificant to me. 

Even small things like replying back to texts have become extremely difficult. I’m always tired. I fall asleep at 8 and awake in the middle of the night not able to sleep. Its never been a problem. Not for me at least. I detest the taste and smell of coffee so that’s really not an option. Even when I sleep, it used to be soundless. A little too soundless to be quite honest. It used to really freak me out how I could never recall my dreams but now the little I do remember are nightmares. It’s sick because I just find them amusing afterwards. 

What does it mean to look at your life as an observer? The idea that you can no longer see what you used to. 

What is it when you have only cried about trivial things such as tv shows and movies for years. The last time i cried for something that affected me was probably when I was 13. But now as i lay down I have found tears running down my face for no reason. What does it mean if I wanna cry right now. 

The only place that seems the same, maybe even better than before is the thought of going home and collapsing in bed. 

Its ironic how i feel so dead but continue to listen to anthrax im alive.

I don’t want to be around anyone right now but im feeling something I’ve never felt before. Loneliness. 

This post was a mess.

I Live With No Regrets. Sometimes.

I’ve always thought that I’ve had no regrets. I’m too young. Too boring. Too introverted to have regrets.
But every now and again something happens to remind me of every regret. Every single little thing that I wish I had done. Big things. Small things. Not shouting back at that person, not being more rebellious or experimental.
Maybe i havent done it because im too scared.
Or too smart.
Even too lazy.

Until this realisation occurs in my almost blissful existance. I push back every regret, in small dark place in the back of my mind which may flood open any time.
I live in peaceful ignorance until it opens once more, only living with more regrets.

I Really Don’t Give A Fuck

I don’t care if you are a boy or a girl or even something in between.
I don’t care if you are black or white or even bright purple.
I honestly do not care if you are gay or straight.
I don’t care what you have done in the past.
I care about what you will do in the future.
I care if you are a nice person. And not just nice to me, just a person who tries their hardest to be a good person.

Note: this may sound like a really stupid post or really random but it’s true. Nobody should be judged for being themselves. Even if you yourself don’t agree with their life choices, it’s not your life and not your place to judge them. I’m not saying you shouldn’t express yourself but next time you do just think about the other person and think about what you are saying.
Someone should not be discriminated against something they have no control over like race or sex. Sexuality included. People have enough on their minds. They can do what they want.
This doesn’t mean that you will see me protesting for gay rights simply because I find it unnecessary. They are people, they already have the right to do what they want. I support this idea that people, any people can do what they want (but I don’t condone anything illegal haha).

Working in Retail Has Made Me Lose Faith in Humanity

It sounds over dramatic. And rather brash. But it is the honest truth. Everyday that I work in this shop has actually made me lose my faith in humanity. Not only is it shitty customers but also a shitty boss. The idiocy that comes from some people actually makes me physically cringe in front of their very faces. But what’s worse than this is the smartasses that have superior look on their face.

I am no longer nice to my customers as I have no reason to be. Every now and then there will be a customer who you genuinely like but then that satisfaction is rather short lived as another ass hole walks through the door.

But it’s sad that even though it is something I do once a week, I still have to do it.

I hate my job and my boss and am probably the only teenager who dreads Saturday for the very reason of working.

Yep, I sound like a bitch. And I really don’t care.


I have never liked the concept of time. The idea that one moment can only ever last for a few seconds and then it’s gone forever. That after less than a minute, it becomes the past; a memory.
I don’t understand in the concept of time, it’s not that I haven’t grasped the concept. It’s more so that I don’t believe that time exists, it’s not as objective as we like it to be. I don’t know how a human put a numerical measure on a day, which commands others how to live their lives.
I guess the main thing is I don’t like how there is ever enough time because, for everyone, time is limited even though time itself is supposedly infinite.