Skip to main content

Apparently.

Apparently it has no meaning. Apparently, it’s trash. Apparently, no one believes in it. 

This has turned into a diary, one that feels more like scattered thoughts than something worth keeping. I’m starting to think I might abandon it, the same way I’ve abandoned my other diaries. Maybe it’s weakness, or maybe I’m just tired. Vulnerability with bad writing feels like a dangerous mix right now, like I’m exposing too much without enough to say. 

It’s strange how something can feel so heavy yet be so meaningless. I can’t let myself hold on to something that doesn’t seem to matter. It’s like pouring feelings into a blank page, but when you step back, you realize there’s nothing really there—just words that don’t connect, ideas that fall flat. I can’t let this much be attached to so little.

But for now, I’ll leave it here, unsure, like everything else.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ominous Positivity: Reflecting on Korea Day

It's inevitable. The poetry and prose can only shield me from vulnerability for so long. Someone is bound to read through the poorly written literary devices and figure out the true meaning of all my works that I run away from by writing it (How presumptuous). Or no one cares.  The latter is the greater possibility. I find comfort in it, no one cares. And on some days, it's despair in how no one cares.  True to my character, I am going to switch the topic to another one. For today, I wish to reminisce on Korea Day and as much as I would love to say it started with me speaking Korean and having a wonderful day. It didn't. I sat on my glasses.  Having a power of -6 and allegedly even more, I can't move around without my glasses as there is a possibility I will fall into a ditch, the depth perception does lessen when you can't perceive objects, it turns out.  It was frustrating, the whole sitting on glasses debacle. I had never done it before. Out of character as I wou...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Chase to Curfew.

My heart is out of my chest. It's in my throat, beating like it's struggling to stay alive. But it's more alive than ever. The curfew is at 7 PM. You know it, I know it. Everyone knows it. Especially the duos that linger at Martin Junction. Yet we all love to tease the limits of how far a body can run and make it in time. The urgency, the need, the frustration, the fulfillment. There’s something exhilarating about skirting the edge of danger. About feeling the adrenaline course through your veins as the clock ticks down. I reach out for it during exams, actively working towards it—to be sleep-deprived and see how far I can push myself and still dish out something legible. I always take that one fake quote in stride, "Edison built the electric bulb in a night," or something of that sort. It's fake for multiple reasons, the stealing allegations aside. But it brings me hope. And this hope is quite delusional when it’s not accompanied by action. You can call it pr...
Post a Comment
Read more

Rainy Reflections.

What do I write today? I pondered for hours while doing mundane tasks. The sunlight stayed with me for a while, then it left, all alone, before the tube of electricity joined my thoughts. "Aren't you eating dinner?" asked my roommate. That's when I finally broke the silence I had condemned myself to until I wrote. I ate dinner and drank tea instead of coffee because I wanted to sleep earlier. I came back to my room, determined to write the third blog post. I couldn't give up so soon, could I? The sounds of doors and windows slamming against the walls, screeching laughter, and people running around seeped into my room. "It's cool outside, the rain, it's raining," said my roommate. I am not a huge fan of the rain. It always made me moody. I wasn't a hater either. Something in me whispered back to my roommate, "It's raining? It's raining!" I jumped up barefoot and ran out to feel the cool breeze against my face. My feet felt th...
Post a Comment
Read more