bunbunbnubnuuy

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

I've been playing League of Legends for 12 years. Recently, I got back into Valorant.

Something I've noticed is that whenever I play League, I can just stop playing. Valorant, however, is a different beast entirely. The last 5 Valorant games I played, I played STARVING. Because Valorant is SO ADDICTIVE. Why is this?

My belief is that, once I've finished a game I have to go back into champion selection, with a new team that doesn't speak to me, and in 5 minutes I have the right to play the same fame, but worse. Upon finishing a League game, one where I was level 16, the next game I play will hard reset me back down to level 1. My attack speed is one attack per school year, my movement speed is that of a slug, and my damage... well, what damage? I have to slog through another 15 minutes of laning phase where nothing happens, and only then, do I get to have fun.

In Valorant, upon finishing a game, I get to play another pistol round (FUN!), and right after that, it's more of the same gun rounds that I was just enjoying for 30 minutes, back to be enjoyed for another.

Does this mean Valorant will get stale faster? Not a shadow of a doubt in my mind.

Can I stop playing today? Absolutely fucking not.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

Woah.

I have a Tumblr.... I forgot. Turbulence. So much of it.

I will now go through my drafts.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

The weather

It's the middle of spring. Nature is healing. Waking up from the coma the harsh winter put it in. Trees are regaining their leaves, the grass its colors, the birds their song. The bees are happy and hard at work. They just got their flowers back, after all. Most importantly, with spring back, the people's collective spirit is more alive than ever. The streets, coffee shops, parks, even grocery stores, are all full of life. Cities are back to being a collection of souls, not buildings. It's as if something gave us all purpose. Like we have something to look forward to, when in fact, it's just that the weather is nice.

But the weather has a much greater effect on us than we even realize. Sure, when it's sunny you wanna go for a walk, and when it's raining all you wanna do is stay inside and sleep. And sure, we recognize that cloudy days make us somewhat upset. I, however, believe it goes far beyond that. I believe that everything we feel is directly connected to the weather. Or at least that's the case with me. Maybe I'm just more connected to the environment than the average person. Maybe I'm 'of the earth' as it were.

First week of April, the weather was great. The sun was shining, not a cloud in sight. There were slight winds, not in a "it's windy" way, but in a "this is nice" way. I understand that the last sentence made me seem illiterate, but the humanity of it needs to be understood. The feelings behind the words. The weather made feel as if I had been resurrected. During the winter, I thought I felt normal, but as it turns out, I was a husk. A shell of a person. Once spring came around, and the sun with it, I realized just how bad I felt all winter. I had 'returned' to life as if I wasn't really living before. Just existing, if that.

Tuesday, yesterday, the weather suddenly went to shit. I feel like it's November again. And, as predicted, I immediately felt a deep sadness. Like my soul was rotting. Physically, I felt no better. It's as if I immediately started rotting away. Like I was, once again, dead. Today, it's the same. Which is senseless, because I think I've got everything. I moved into a new, better city. I got a new, better job. I have great friends. I feel like I'm at the top of the world. Like I'm finally succeeding. And day before yesterday, that was all I could feel. Joy. Yesterday, I started feeling like I'm losing.

I feel like everything I do is worthless.

I feel like everyone hates me.

I feel like I'm falling.

Every time I look out the window I feel a chunk of my soul turning black. Every time I look in the mirror the thing I see looking back at me isn't alive. It's less. It's a walking corpse pretending to fit in.

I was winning, now I'm losing, and the only thing that changed - the weather.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

The park

I awoke from my peaceful slumber on a day like any other. It was silent. Deafeningly so. I thought nothing of it as I got out of bed, I flipped on the light in the bathroom, and I could clearly hear the switch clicking and white neon buzzing. I started brushing my teeth and could hear the bristles rubbing against my teeth and each other. I got dressed and heard every thread. I left my room and heard the door opening, I heard it closing, I heard the key entering and the lock engaging. I felt at ease.

I walked down to the coffee shop and heard so many people, both individually and as a crowd. I finally got my coffee and as I sipped it I looked at all the people around me. It was almost overwhelming. There's not supposed to be this many people here. I suppose it is a Saturday, so I understand. I finished my coffee and left. Next stop, grocery store.

I didn't actually have any groceries to buy, but there's not one kiosk in this entire fucking town and I needed my cigarettes. So a walk it is. A walk through the park at that. Pleasant, wholesome. I guess my window must be incredible at isolating sound because I'm being deafened by the chirping of the birds, the buzzing of the bees, the rustling of leaves. But, I've never heard anything like this before. It's like I'm one with nature, yet I'm standing on a concrete path. I can see cars, I can see the hotel which I was staying in. But I can't hear any manmade sound.

Hearing has abandoned me, so I turned to sight. I looked around. I actually took a while looking around. But, through the entire park, I did not see a single person. The overwhelming sense of loneliness spread throughout my body. I tried, desperate, to cast more and more gazes all around me, but I caught no people. With nothing to do except run, I ran. Running backwards would be a waste of time, and I still needed cigs, so I ran to the store. The store, packed. I waited close to 15 minutes to get my pack. Strange.

Walking back through the same park I was alone. And when I left the park and got to the hotel. Crowd. Again.

Since that day we had a storm. A loud storm which woke everyone in the entire town up, at exactly 4:02 AM. A brutal storm which felled many trees inside the park. The park must be investigated.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

Gray cycle

There exists a girl who spends her days trying her hardest. Trying to experience life and all it has to offer. She's got a job she's content with, she lives in a place she can comfortably rest and enjoy her time, and she has people to talk to. All of this was achieved over time, with a lot of effort, because she was unhappy. She'd been unhappy for quite some time. Years passed with everything looking gray and decrepit.

"This can't have been the world so many people were gushing over. This can't be it. There must be more to this life." she thought.

So she focused on herself. Doing whatever it took, no matter how hard or heartbreaking, just to see this world in all its beautiful colors. Trying to see the world the way it was meant to be seen. Initially, she thought if only she'd cut out all sources of negativity, she'd be happy. But that's not all it takes. Removing the black still leaves you with many shades of gray. So she slowly, carefully, started adding as much color into this world by herself. There was no one there to help.

Until she met a boy. The boy who promised her he had all the colors, and would help her add color into her world as well. And, for a time, he did. She was looking into a world so colorful it was almost blinding. Bright shades of red, pink and yellow. She saw the blue sky, she saw the green trees. She thought she understood. She thought she finally got access to the world as it was meant to be. She was so happy. Until she realized he'd only been painting her eyes. The world, disheveled and gray, not a stroke of silver in sight, was exactly as she thought it was. But she was content.

"Why must I change my world? Why must I hate the gray? Why is this not enough?" she asked. The way a child wonders why everything must be as it is. The way a child has a thirst for knowledge of concepts it cannot possibly understand. And it's that childlike way of thinking that made her believe nothing needs to be changed.

Contentment, the satisfaction with mediocrity, had spread throughout her mind like a spider web. And like a spider web in a corner of a room, not inherently wrong, but it does not belong.

One day, for seemingly no reason, she'd decided to look deeper into the world the boy built for her. Look into the nooks and crannies, look behind that wall she'd been told not to go behind. What she saw was dark red. The boy had left dismembered, ravaged corpses, human and animal alike, all throughout her mind. Spilling forth a rotting miasma, and attracting flies as if Beelzebub had commanded them.

This was not a happy sight. So she decided to get out. Get away from the boy, wash the colors off her eyes. She'd rather walk barefoot into a gray world than ride a hearse into the twisted world the boy had made, no matter how colorful. And so she did.

She went back to trying her hardest. Trying to enjoy life. That was all she could do. That's all anyone could ever do.

"Never again." she promised herself. She'd never entrust the colors of her world to anyone else. She knew exactly what kind of world she wanted, and exactly what colors should exist. No one else could ever match that. No one else could ever come close to painting the world the way she dreamed. She spoke to her family members, and they all supported her, and her desire to be alone. For a time.

"There's always compromises." they said. And she listened. "Compromise could work. I'll just give someone a small part of my world to paint. And I can live with that." She would never give someone more than that. She promised. She promised herself, she promised her family, she promised the god she believed in.

Until she met a boy. And broke her promise.

This, however, would not be the end. This series of events would be perennial. Because the foolish girl could never learn that sheep should not play with wolves.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

Proofreading

"Proofreading is the reading of a galley proof or an electronic copy of a publication to find and correct reproduction errors of text or art. Proofreading is the final step in the editorial cycle before publication."

I never proofread my posts, not once, ever. It's a matter of principle to me. I like keeping it RAW. Emotional. Irrational. That's the way I think, so that's the way I speak, so that's the way I post. It's liberating. Even though it shouldn't be. I mean whatever I type out is permanent, so you'd think I'd wanna put some thought into it. But by relinquishing that right, I'm sort of limiting myself, no? No. The way I type was, and still is, largely influenced by something a friend said to me on the 25th of July, 2020. So a statement pretty much exactly 2 years old. The message goes

"if you keep second and third guessing everything you say when does it stop cause at that point that's just not you lol"

And it shows in people. People that type entirely differently from the way they speak. Not in writing, but in casual conversations. You know, those people that type a 4 word message over the course of 15 minutes. You just know they were sitting there deleting and retyping it over and over and over again. Whereas, if they were to be speaking verbally, they wouldn't have that ability. So their entire personalities seem to morph, which is just not the case. Whenever you type out a message, if you sit there thinking about it, eventually you will find a way to make it better, easier, nicer. And I hate that about people.

I get that this is a blog post, not a casual conversation, so I should at least proofread a little bit. But I choose not to. Because the more raw I am, the better I feel while typing, and then a week later, while reading.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

Exercise

Never before has the thought crossed my mind, but now, I think I hate the frail and feeble human body. Why can I not just stand up right now and be able to run for like an hour straight? Why must I run in minute-long increments, with the hope that eventually I'll be able to run without getting tired. I ran 400m (1/4 mile) yesterday, and had to stop because I got sharp pains in my chest. Eight years ago, at the ripe age of 18, I was capable of crossing entire forests without needing to stop for a second. It has never been a problem for me, since I was a small child, I'd been able to run freely. And I guess I always took that fact for granted. I stopped exercising about 2 years ago, and when I tried yesterday, I was out of breath damn near instantly. What a fucking insult. Whatever though. I'll get back in shape in time. I think. I hope.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

Hangovers

Alcohol, and the joys and sorrows of it. We indulge sometimes, all of us. Drink a bit more than we should, say some things, throw up in our neighbor's bushes. That might be just me. I can never just have "one glass of wine," until I see the bottom of that bottle, I'm not satisfied. So I buy alcohol in small quantities. You know, those .33ml bottles of cider. Buy two of 'em, drink, feel a light buzz, and be done with it. Not what happened last night. See, I bought a bottle of wine, with the intention of drinking half the bottle. Still can be considered too much, but that's just how I roll. I ended up having the whole bottle, plus more alcohol out of the basement. Obviously, I was shit-faced. Can't remember a damn thing. But it's the morning (4 PM) after that's the problem. Regular hangovers include symptoms such as head-pounding, nausea, and relentless thirst.

However, we all have that one annoying friend that never gets hungover. The morning after, everyone else wants the sweet release of death and this girl may as well be doing cartwheels. She is me. I'm the annoying friend that never gets hungover. Never been, in my whole life. I've been actively drinking for 12 years now, not once did I wake up the next day feeling anything even remotely negative. Just the usual morning grogginess. A part of me wishes that I'd get a hangover once. To, for once, experience some kind of repercussions for drinking too much. But it's probably for the best that I'm healthy, forever and always.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

A while

Yeah, I've returned. A lot of stuff happened. I haven't exactly been active here but, I've come to mend that. I'm back home! And while it's nice to be back home for a little bit, I'm here for the summer. Which, along with the feeling of belonging, brings the familiar feeling of unease. When I last lived here, I was very deep into despair. Enough for it to grow roots. Moving away cut the stem but it's all still there. And I have no control, no way to cleanse the soil. I wanna say I'm better, smarter, happier, but I can't. I've been here for less than a week, and it's already consuming me. At least I can take comfort in the small things that still feel natural. Funny, when I first got here a wave of melancholy came over me, the second I looked upstairs. It was in a, in the words of Debra Morgan, "semi-lived-in museum quality state."

Whatever, sad girl hours aside. Weekly posting now. Daily? Can't. Busy. Weekly will be good.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

Silly little tasks

The day I became an adult is the day I realized 'chores' aren't all that bad. When we were kids, all of us, we hated when our parents would tell us to do the dishes, or clean our rooms, or take out the trash etc. It was tedious, it brought us no joy when all we wanted to do was just play. When you grow up, your eyes open and you start enjoying cleanliness. At least that's the way it is for me. I like doing chores. So much so that I don't even see them as chores anymore. I like it. This extends to other activities a child might hate doing. I found myself enjoying studying. Doing homework. Committing myself to college. That's kind of why I even enrolled for a second time. It's a do-over for me. Now that I've grown, now that I like the process. And I'm really glad there's an area where I can apply myself. It also might help that I like what I'm studying.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

Who am I?

This is the post to read to get a feel for what I do.

Hello, it's me. You, as well as everyone else, may call me bun. That's what I've gone by for a while now. Ahh, what are some things people might care about? Oh! I'm 26 years old. Pansexual. Pisces. Chef. I've got a degree in architecture, and I'm currently pursuing a degree in gastronomy. I live in Europe. I play video games. I play guitar and piano. I like music theory more than the music itself. The words I'd use to describe myself would be: flowery, bubbly, erratic, shaky.

This blog is about me, entirely. It's full of random thoughts. Mostly happy. I try my hardest! I try to keep them happy and somewhat entertaining. It's walls of text. On repeat. Every day. Until I die. I don't post art or anything like that because I don't do art. I see a lot of great art on my dashboard and that's honestly enough.

I'm interested in writing, and this seems like the perfect outlet. I overuse periods and commas, but that's just the way I speak anyway. One sentence followed by the next. Sometimes it's half a sentence, period, the second half. I don't plan on writing any books or stories or anything like that, but I do like documenting my life. Every silly idea that pops into my head.

This is meta-posting to the max. I've seen people do their introductions as bulleted lists, but that's just not how I roll. I'm a huge fan of the text walls. No colors, no pictures, just TEXT. I'll probably update this intro post one day, but this is who I am for now.

I do hope we get along.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

Upbringing

Afterthought: Yeah, this post isn't very nice.

The first exciting thing in the burbs happened just now! Someone's drunk sitting in the middle of the street and yelling. It's not funny, or light-hearted, but it's something. It brings me back to my roots. Back home, stuff like this would happen all the time. People were constantly doing something stupid. And that's what you'd expect when living in the slums. Now, I live in the suburbs of a different city altogether, go to farmers' markets, get excited when I see sales on groceries, hearing birds chirping fills me with joy. I've outgrown my slumlord past, but it's still where I came from. I'm an upstanding citizen, but if you want to go ghetto I'll beat you at that game every time. That's just my upbringing. I was taught to cheat, steal, lie, just to get ahead. You'd hear shooting, screaming, you'd see people passed out on the street, or sometimes just straight up witness someone heating a crack spoon. The single most exciting thing that can happen in the burbs is a power outage. And I love it. I love the peace. Kids playing outside, laughing, people talking about the latest politics, dogs happily strolling. It all suits me. I've found more peace and happiness in the 3 months I've been here than in the 26 years I spent back home. It's nice.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

Another dollar

Nothing for me to say. Only here to meet my self-set daily quota. I said I'd post once a day, and here I am. Talking about posting. I don't really like meta-posting. You know, posts where I talk about posts. I just feel that it doesn't suit me, and it's not something I want to do regularly. I'll bring some thoughts and happy feelings with me tomorrow! For today, there is nothing. I did a midterm and then I wrote a term paper and then I studied for 4 hours. I didn't really have the time to think. Or feel good really. I'm just numb. But I will persist!!!! Stay happy! Stay fulfilled! Stay flowery.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

Sun

Sun is shining, river's flowing, birds are chirping, fingers are bleeding. It's so nice. It makes me feel all warm even though it's cold enough to warrant three layers. It almost offsets all the bad. Just makes me want to go outside and bask in the sun. Hang out with the birbs. It blocks up my mind palace though. It almost hypnotizes me, after the weeks of cloudy muggy weather, seeing the sun for the first time isn't refreshing. It's enchanting. It's drawing me towards the light with immeasurable force. Still, I can feel the bad vibes coming. I don't know what it is. I just don't feel very flowery. I do feel productive however, so I'll go. Let all my creative juices recharge with mind-numbing silly little tasks. Inspiration will come in it's own time. There is one thing I want to do. I wanna go to the bakery, get the good bakery bread while there's still time. It's so nice and fluffy. Not at all like store-bought soulless sliced bread. Me, passionate about bread. On second thought, I do feel flowery.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

Knowing

I want to just suddenly be able to do stuff. No practice needed. I wish I was born with all the knowledge and skill in the world. To be able to play every instrument. To be able to play any video game. To be able to just know what to say and when to say it. I want all of it. Can never seem to get it. I have to put in hours into playing 1 song. I have to put in weeks into getting good. I have to spend years pondering if that one thing I said was the right thing to say at that time. I just want to know. I'm pretty intuitive, in the moment. Then after it hits me like a truck, and I have to wonder. It's all a big mess that I hate. I wish it was as simple as just picking 1 of 3 options in a sim game.

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

Gardening

I want to start gardening, but that's just a whim I've had for a while. Also sucks that I don't exactly have a yard. There is one attached to this house, it's got beautiful flowers and stone deco it's so cute!!!! But I'm renting and Mr Landlord takes care of all of that, so I don't have the freedom to just start gardening. I don't like veggies or green plants and stuff like that, I just like flowers a lot. It stems from living with my grandma back in my hometown. We had a HUGE front yard where she grew all kinds of flowers, plants and trees. I distinctly remember us having a lot of different kinds of roses. Lots of fruit too! We had strawberries, which is probably where my love for them comes from. We had raspberries, chokeberries, cherries, peaches, apples and pears. Probably some other fruit that I can't remember, this was all over a decade ago. Also had a bunch of green plants, some decorative, some used in cooking.

My favorite flower would be the snowdrop.

A Korean show came out recently with the same name so I have to type 'snowdrop flower' into google when I wanna see the flower. It's a flower that grows by itself here at the end of winter and it serves as a reminder that spring is coming. It's not really a flower you would plant and grow. At least not here. Also extremely seasonal.

Another flower I really like are roses. Any color.

They make for an excellent gift, look nice in a garden, but they require a lot of work if I recall correctly. I haven't done any research, this is all from the heart. Roses are just- iconic.

Lilacs!

I love these. They smell and look so good! Even Mr Landlord has lilacs going over the front of our yard. I would eventually want a whole lot of them. Just a staple for what a garden should look like.

Meta: A long post. Pictures included too! Love that for me. I want more like this when the opportunity arises. This is fun!

[bunbunbnubnuuy]

Silly me

Ooooh, tumblr I don't know what I'm doing, sorry. I noticed I'm not very visual, I don't post pictures, I don't really follow an aesthetic. It's not that I don't want to, it's just that I don't really have any cute pictures. I don't dabble in photography (though I might start!), I don't draw, plus I feel that none of my posts really need visuals. It's just word soup anyway. Also I don't use tags! Don't know, it's a lot easier speaking into the void when you feel no one is listening (or reading heh). Besides, I'm not quite sure what tags to use if I were to. I'm still quite new at this. I hope to satisfy the minds of shaky, incomplete thought having people. Though that mostly describes me. This is, I think, my first and only meta post ever. Right after this we go into our regularly scheduled ramblings. Soon™ I'll make a cute little introductory post, for the poor folk that stumble upon my thought outlet. I hope I figure out how to pin it though! It's all a mess. But it's my mess, and I like it.