eat me henger

sometimes it's just hard to connect and it frustrates me. for the most part, i try to be both sensible in communicating where i'm coming from and understanding in what others are trying to convey. but it's never perfect, i start to lose patience at around the second failure in a row. it happens to the best of us, it happens at the worst of times. but when it happens, we have to pick ourselves up cause that's not really who we are. i like writing here cause there aren't any repercussions for being misunderstood and i can fully express myself without even having anything to say, really. it's entirely different in social situations. it should be a two way street. yeah sure, you can settle with being misunderstood if you're that desperate. it works for some. but for me, i simply don't want to waste my time being in the wrong conversation. sometimes you have to put your foot down, take a step back, and look at the bigger picture. it's a two way street, an

does any sublime sense of appreciation towards the opposite sex warrant romance? i can't throw around such labels willy nilly cause clearly i have virtually zero long term success with it. i have to be conservative because i don't want to add another latest to my long list of lost loves. i just want to get it right this time and that means thinking it through. being enamored to this degree by default is enough to convince me that i should go fall in love. when rudimentary requirements of a romantic relationship are reasonably realized, then yeah sure, we can go to town with it. not an ugly face? not abnormal genetics? not an awkward time? if all of it are satisfied, then we've got someone worth looking into. my basic decision-making logic is based on negatives because the extraordinary positives are present as they are prerequisites to even consider the person in the first place. a beautiful face? an impeccable physique? a wonderful mind? if any of it are satisfied, then by

i really have no idea who to thank. when i think about it, i'm just overwhelmed with gratitude. so much so that i'm running out of ways to express it. so much so that i have to stop myself from repeating the same talking point over and over again. but you can't stop feelings. they just happen within you spontaneously. it's up to us how we'll manifest it in the real world. unfortunately for me, i'm a man of limited social repertoire. yeah sure, my vocabulary's vast, but talk is cheap. and yet, it's the only thing i really have. but my words of appreciation are a result of what came naturally to me. i stayed present, i cared, i brought the best value that i could. i don't want it to ever end. and given that it's something that resulted from my innate traits, it's probably not going to be hard to keep it going for as long as possible. there aren't a lot of things i don't want to end. usually i'm counting down the hours. but t

this could easily be just one long suicide note. i really hate being in my own head. it's very rarely a good place. but it's the price i have to pay for being the way i am. not like i had a choice oh how my brain is wired in the first place. i'm probably one of those tortured artists whose creativity is fuelled by personal demons. i'm claiming it now, i do write better than most people - maybe not the best or even in the upper percentile, but the better writers are probably crappier cooks than me, or run slower than me. we're all different permutations of advantages and disadvantages. and i'm disadvantaged to be depressed than most people. again, it's not necessarily sadness. i'm not sad right now. nobody said a bad thing to me that ruined my day. i wasn't unreasonably in trouble today. by most metrics, there should be no reason why i'm feeling empty inside. but i do. and it sucks. and when the time comes it can't be helped, then this

it's been a while since i've been this elated with life. and my spirits have never been lifted by a reason such as this. i've always been one to feel strong feelings toward things that mattered to me. it ranges from cripplingly depressive, outrageously infuriating, and now, it's euphoric. unfortunately i can't exactly put my finger as to why i feel this way. it's simply not because i'm happy - that happens to me all the time. it's simply not because i'm healthy - i've been maintaining a better state for quite a while already. it's simply not because i'm secure - i'm in fact the farthest thing from it given the sorry state of affairs of the world. so i really have no idea. what i'm certain of is that i feel intensely appreciative with a recent constant. which on paper, shouldn't be noteworthy at all. anyone can be funny, anyone can be creative, anyone can be insightful. but you really couldn't simply take anyone and

i've been feeling more and more detached from people of my age. they're all moving on having families of their own, building their careers - the real adult stuff that you must be over 18 to continue. not this listless floating in the ether kind of deal i've been having. when i reflect on what the past couple of decades have been for me, it's utterly disappointing. i will give credit to myself, i did the best i thought i could given the limited knowledge i had at the time. and it's always a case of information asymmetry. but knowing what i know now, i could've been so much better. i'd probably be more accomplished than i am right now. i'd probably have reasons to be proud of myself and actually believe them. i'm not sure whether i'll be happier. that's always up in the air. up til now, i don't know what brings me genuine happiness no matter how hard i try to keep exploring all the avenues. it's all momentary bliss, and that's fin

a sense of dissatisfaction has been building up recently. it's probably the lack of sleep, but it could be a symptom rather than the cause. it's probably a lack of meaningful interactions with my social circle, but i seem to be having enough of it so far. or it's probably depression season again. it's always the convenient excuse. it's gotten much easier to pretend that i'm happy. funny things are funny things. there will always be something primal about humor that it can trigger a reaction even at the most damning of times. although i have been forcing my laughter more than i'm used to. it's a desperate attempt to find some sliver of hope amidst all this. it's a no brainer. i want to be happy. i can only toss and turn in bed enough times before i decide to sit by the window in the middle of night and wonder where the hell did i go wrong. which i don't think it the least bit. i'm supremely privileged than most people. other than fe

at the request of a friend whom i doubt you're still talking to right now, i'm leaving this here. i have very little hope you will remember that you wrote this 10 years ago because your history of concussions would've probably degenerated your brain function to the point where you can barely remember anything from the past year. just so you know, as your past self writes this now, i can barely remember anything from the past decade. don't forget that your checking account has dormancy penalties. you wouldn't want to waste a portion of your savings because you had thought you'd be needing it to pay for living expenses with your significant other. you're probably a better adult than i am right now, but an immature one that has enough cognitive capacity to be functional still ends up being better. i bet it's worse than it is right now. most things, really. while you probably have swankier things, you probably have a higher salary, you probably are wis

good memories are a reminder of how shitty we have turned out. with after every break up, i try to erase memories of the relationship ever happening at all. it's cathartic to delete every single photo, video, and exchanges of communication that you ever had. it can be liberating to have the power to divest sentimental value from wonderful memories you created with your lover. however, by design, it's a one sided and myopic activity. i'm throwing stuff out of spite. i'm constantly justifying why it was indeed a good riddance without a reasoned reflection on what the situation actually was. i am the man on fire and it's by nature that i'm brash and that i destroy everything i touch. but sometimes some things get through the cracks. maybe sometimes google photos didn't do a perfect job of facial recognition, maybe sometimes i forget to sort my memories in the correct folders. but somehow they show up. seeing them now i hold a warm regard for the memories,

i've recently gotten into the habit of being fiercely logical. i look at the world with a cold objectivity and judge things whether something was right or wrong solely on its coherence and functional merits. facts don't indeed care about feelings. logic is empowering, logic is seductive. and logic has become my crutch. i used to not be like this though. i was shit at math - the entry point to logic in formal education. i gravitated toward subjective fields like the arts. i was still shit at it, but colors and rhythm was an easier pill to swallow than numbers and formulas. literature was liberating, film was freeing, music was emancipating. sure there are rules to grammar, image composition, and time signatures - but adhering to aesthetic rules felt more natural as it called to an inherent desire for things to look or sound good. it's just one of those things that instantly clicks with you. it calls to abstractions in your subconscious and concretizes it into real life.

i've once again fallen into the trap of writing drafts upon drafts of material that will never see the light of day because my writing style heavily rests on stream of consciousness, and as soon as i lose interest in writing about something it becomes a chore instead of something i can feel passionate about and pour myself into - and that's a waste of time. and if there's one thing that i don't like seeing on my to-do list, it's wasting my time. so to break the rut, i'm giving myself another hour. newtonian cradle who i am is in a constant state of flux. it's growing and regressing in some places. i'm learning new things, and i'm forgetting things that was once important to me. though there will be a handful of elements that endure as fundamental traits such as my fiery passion, a competitive streak, and intense inquisitiveness; but by and large, the way i carry myself, the way i engage with others, the manner in which i think, the beliefs and

social media hasn't been healthy for me recently. it used to be called "social networking" where you use it to keep in touch with friends, family, those who are close, those who have drifted away. i used to like seeing pictures of social gatherings and activities as memoirs. now it has become a media platform where people have become micro-celebrities - a person with a percentage of the fame, but all of the ascribed self-importance. it's become a way for people to signal their virtues and brag about themselves.it's been like this for a while, and i used to put up with it because i could keep sharing my insights to my followers without having to check in on them. now i've just quit it entirely. i may be throwing the baby out with the bathwater, but i maintain that if i truly cared about people, i'll ask them "what's up" what i have against the current climate of social media is my perception of plasticity with people on the platform. the