eat me henger

i haven't been living my life at my own pace. in my desire to be liked or to prove my worth, i've prioritized becoming what others want me to be instead of what i'm comfortable becoming. in the first place, i don't even have an accurate idea of what others want. i've been thinking of them as the most demanding and biggest monsters possible - always wanting me to deliver perfection despite never being anywhere close to it. but regardless of how close they are to reality, i think it doesn't even matter. i think consent is central to any social connection. whether they care so much that i give my all, or if they're actually chill with whatever i bring, i have to first agree with their expectations for my actions to follow. i've been too much of a people pleaser for people i don't actually care to please. i keep doing it because i've gotten used to saying "yes" more than saying "no". this is perhaps a consequence of failure to pri...

for more than a minute there, i lost myself. i haven't been writing here, not because i've been occupied with school papers, but because i've been overdoing it at work. that has been such a disservice for me because i wasn't allotting time for who i genuinely am - a thinker. i'm not a good doer. mental gymnastics just come to me more naturally than grinding it out. in fact, no, i'm not just a thinker. with the rate of which thoughts run through my head and coming from all directions, i'm an overthinker. every now and then, i need to return to the core of my identity. it takes effort. the kind of effort that will leave me unproductive elsewhere for half a day. but that's because i've co-opted the definition of "productivity" as what matters for my boss, rather than for myself or my loved ones. it's only been two months, it's a short enough time to get back to who i am... or at the very least, who i am happiest with. i don't know ...

somehow i've fallen off the wagon once again. i used to have my life together. i had good habits. but somehow life's demands piled up more than i could handle and now i'm just constantly ticking off someone else's to-do list and neglecting mine. dying now sounds like a swell idea. it doesn't make any meaningful difference. whoever i am in the eyes of others isn't truly me. friends and family will mourn the death of the person in the casket or urn, but i don't feel any connection with him. granted, i'm responsible for building that person. it's my actions that resulted in everyone else's perceptions. in a sense, choosing to die is such a cheap escape. i'm eluding responsibility. a fitting end for a piece of shit like me.

the most feasible is jumping off a building, skull first into the ground. but where? my office building is a six storey opportunity to be six feet underground. but then again, my corpse will be too dilapidated to be coffin-worthy. but hey, it’s not gonna be my problem anymore. other than that, i don’t seem to have any access to any roofdecks. i could just never let go of a floored gas pedal. although that’s too much collateral damage for a simple goal. but hey, not gonna be my problem anymore. i don’t want to slice the veins off my forearms. i hate sharp objects on my skin. i dreaded the vaccine. man, i wish i was one of lucky few to have needed ventilators. there’s a half empty bottle of sleeping pills on my desk. i’ll keep that on the list. i’m a pussy anyway. a gun would’ve been quick and easy. but getting a license for one will take a long and hard time. i need trusses for a noose. we have our unfinished attic that never got a ceiling. that’s feasible. or i could just let my excuse...

it's my fault for fooling people into thinking i'm good. i resent every single person that believed in me. they're the reason i keep failing because they define the standard that show my shortcomings. it's unfortunate how people who regard me positively are actually those that don't see me genuinely. i feel bad that they are happy for things that actually cause me misery. at this point, i much prefer the company of my doubters because they see me for what i actually am: a fraud that does an excellent job of counterfeiting quality. at least, i don't have to disappoint them. i just have to prove them right - as how the natural state of things would have done. this has been a much worse existential crisis than having a lover cheat on me with a bastard that she's trying to pass off as mine. at least that was a unanimous injustice that everyone got behind. my desire for death has been at its strongest recently. i fake every smile, laughter or cordial interaction....

getting promoted feels like one of the worst things to happen in my life. people around me treat it like a milestone. hooray for me, my hard work was recognized and i was given a higher title and more money. but i don't really care about those things. i could rot in the same position i was holding for almost a decade and still be satisfied with myself. i loved my job back then - it was the right amount of challenge for my natural talents, it was sufficiently rewarding in relation to the minimal effort i feel like i've put in. now i'm in a stupid situation where i'm given big responsibilities in a field i knew very little about and, as current evidence seem to suggest, i also have very little inclination towards. for the entirety of my career thus far, i've been spoiled with a job that feels like play. i could've done it for free. i haven't really been given one that feels like work before. and now, i feel that i deserve to get paid for what i do. unfortunate...

i regret letting myself become who i've been for the past couple of decades. it started nice. i was surrounded with well-intentioned people. they showered me with substantial luxuries. all signs pointed to a good destination. however, i had a taste of what was good before seeing the difficulties to get it. i took it for granted. i got lazy, but somehow i always get saved in the end. i assumed i was unaffected by consequences because there were always those that will take the fall for me. but you won't get anywhere desirable if you kept losing. yes, i felt untouchable, but that's because i was out of touch with what i needed to do and who i needed to be. ideal outcomes always felt out of reach. i made a habit of settling. my unrealized entitlement grew into resentment. i became jaded to preempt the pain of failure. i never put in any honest effort to accomplish anything. i kept redefining my expectations to have a semblance of a win. it was a cycle that was leading to my dem...