exploring the cosmic within me, atom by atom < of short essays written by fara nabila >
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Kintsugi (金継ぎ )
the art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. it is used as a metaphor for how embracing flaws and imperfections can create an even stronger, more beautiful piece of art. but allow me to add to that ; just because something breaks doesn��t mean it is flawed — it simply transforms into something new.
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Note: I’ll be referring to the other person as ‘lover’ in this essay, but it can be anyone, a family member or a friend! I used the term ‘lovers’ to refer to individuals who have impacted your life positively instead of the other way around. Happy reading :)
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when your heart breaks, so does your entire self.
like fragments of a broken bowl, nothing is truly lost, but you are more scattered than you’ve ever been. it falls very slowly, but breaks very fast.
how does it happen?
first you question them, why would you do that? did you not love me? did you lie? is that all? then yourself, what did i do wrong? how can i fix this? how can i be better? am i just not good enough? then you as an individual before them, i think i used to play badminton. i think i liked to read. i think i used to play games. only to find that that person inside of you was no longer there, i don’t like that anymore. i just can’t get into it. why can’t i get into it?
and then, you think a bit more deeply.
i think i did not like my legs so much before, now i do. i think i was being really mean to myself before, now i understand the importance of compassion. i think i was a bit selfish before, now i learn how to give more.
and this is where it all begins. kintsugi.
loving others forces you to love yourself. to see things you might have never see when you’re on your own.
lovers taught you how to be kind, now you cannot go back to being unkind. lovers taught you how to be loving, now you cannot go back to being bitter. lovers thought movies are boring, now it’s quite difficult for you to watch one too. lovers thought putting on more hours at work is unfair to yourself, now you cannot ignore the urge to rest when you need to. you’ve transformed because of your lover, and the world leaves you no choice but to be this new, better person instead of your former, wounded self.
so you adjust, and cry, and adjust again, and cry again. it’s now less about existing without them, but handling yourself well enough to exist with this entirely new version of yourself. you have been reborn, and this new brittle identity requires support. you need a routine, need to screen over what you like and don’t like. you’re holding yourself as how you would a baby. and you need to be extremely patient.
life is falling apart, and getting up to put it back together, over and over again.
one day you realise you’re more present with your family than you’ve ever been in 23 years, that you start initiating plans with your friends more, that you find yourself refusing to skip meals again. you break and you break until one day all you could say to the force who dropped the bowl is - ‘thank you’.
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i think i like to write, except when i’m with a man
In 2022, 82-year-old French writer Annie Ernaux won the Nobel Prize in Literature "for the courage and clinical acuity with which she uncovers the roots, estrangements and collective restraints of personal memory" [1]. Her art is based on her life experiences as seen through the sociological perspective.
For this incredible achievement, you would think that this woman has spent her entire life focusing solely on her career to be able to stand in such a position and receive such an award. Yet, in one of her most renounced work, Simple Passion (1991), it starts with
“From September last year, I did nothing else but wait for a man”
Many such cases.
As a child, all of us were conditioned to many beliefs ranging from religious to familial rules. Yet there is one particular thing that men are exempt from: the male validation curse. In which we live in a world designed for women to be performers rather than human beings. In 2023, we’d expect a lot of progress from this culture, as in theory it seems disgustingly outdated. Yet the dating coaches on TikTok labelling women as high or low value, or step-by-step instructions on how to bag a billionaire, or ‘make him obsessed with you!’ trends begs to differ.
The misuse of dating apps and the surge of men who cheats and women who willingly be homewreckers. If in the 1940s women feel the need to appear more beautiful or seductive in the eyes of men, now it has transcended to appearing more mysterious for men, more intelligent for men, more cooler, more niche. Whether you’re a longstanding feminist or just openly seeking male validation, hearing men comment that "you're just not like other girls" has become one of our guilty pleasures. We are so deeply conditioned into appeasing this other gender who, more often than not, are not required to look deeply enough within themselves to even begin to understand why we do the things we do.
It’s always so subtle. “My friend is a writer, I’ll ask her (instead of you, who’s also a writer)”, “Are you sure this art isn’t too controversial?”, “Life would be easier for you if you’re less sensitive, I’m telling you this out of kindness”, “As someone with a masters in finance I’m surprised you’re able to budget well”. Oh boy.
Women write in her bedroom yet extensively edits it after falling in love with a man who has a preconceived notion that she is not good enough to be a writer. Women paints with everything they have yet stores her work in the drawer because she doesn’t think her favourite male artist would find her messy art very appealing or sexy to her character. Women who are in positions of leadership often act in a way that favors men. Laugh to misogynistic jokes in the board room, side eye other women for wearing too much makeup, become less affectionate to their daughters because work is so important and saying, ‘Oh my daughter, I don’t like that you’re having these silly little crushes on boys!’
Again, I have to remind, it is not our fault. It is just the world that we are brought into. Women are smart, hence why these male pleasing techniques even exist, because we’re trying to get by. And that’s okay. Regardless of how deeply we have been taught something, there is still time to unlearn it. Find out and accept yourself for who you are, a complex character expected to be moulded into something digestible for men. You are not too emotional, you are not too hard to understand, you are you and you are learning and unlearning and observing and discovering.
Look beautiful, be mysterious, paint, sing, dance, hookup with handsome men every now and then, get married, cook for the people you love, have fun with the validation, we live in a joyous world where you can do whatever you please. But as a woman, I hope one day you’ll be able to do so without being haunted by the fear to perform.
As for me, I’m still unlearning from it as well. Because if Cillian Murphy thinks I’m ugly I’d probably kill myself.
thanks for reading xo
Reference
[1] "The Nobel Prize in Literature 2022". The Nobel Prize (Press release). 6 October 2022. Retrieved 18 August 2023.
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16th August
I woke up early again today, feeling somewhat well rested, which I’m grateful for. Washed my face, put on my shoes, and went for my usual run. The aunties are doing Zumba again, and the song of the month is ‘Calm Down’ by Rema and Selena Gomez. Well of course. After my jog, I showered, and got ready for work. Traffic’s not too heavy today. Probably because it’s Friday and everyone’s working from home. At work I made small talks here and there, type things here and there, went on-site and instruct people this and that, and then I clocked out.
I have a date tonight, so I skip my usual routine of buying early dinner and watch Superstore on Netflix. I got ready extra early and put on a red dress I got with several boyfriends ago. Went to some fancy restaurant. Smile a bit. “What do you for work?” “Where are you originally from?” “How’s life here so far?”
We ended the night early because God forbid you keep a classy woman till late on the first date. He drops me home, and I walk back into my empty apartment. This was all I used to pray for, I think. I won’t be going on first dates for a couple of months. That was exhausting. Empty conversation, but it’s so tiring. Or should I see him again? He has a nice smile. I took off my dress. Sent a few ‘Wanna hang out tomorrow?’ messages to friends I’ve had for decades.
Some days things are bad at work. Other days I just can’t find myself connecting to a man no matter how nice he is. Some days I mourn for the life I did not live. Some days I go back to my parents’ house and hug my mother a little longer and tell her I finally understand why you stayed with dad. I got over it. I told her. Whatever you did to me as a child, I’m over it. I’m sorry it took me so long though. We’ll both cry and I’ll leave her house again. Sometimes I cry alone in my bathroom because I wish things aren’t like this. Other times I’m happy to see aunties dancing at the park I jog at. Sometimes in the morning I see kids in their late teens drunk while I’m up and jogging, and I giggle a little because that used to be me. I’m healthy. Healthy enough. I’ll probably pass at 65 because my lungs will give up from all the cigarettes I’ve smoked. And so my life is complete. Nothing extraordinary happened, I did not change the world. I’ve lived. I’ve completed my task. Just like how I can’t help but finish a book no matter how shitty it is. But it’s done now; and I won’t feel anything.
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How do people live, knowing that after you’ve lived one day, there’s another day, then another, then another, and it just keeps going? Every emotion I’ve felt feels like I’ve lived a hundred years, what does that say about me? Every heartbreak, every tear that has come out, every scream i let out, and in the end it’s just another day. Forgotten. And then comes another. And then a decade has passed. And now you’ve been in the same job for 7 years. Stuck in the same horrible marriage for 20. How does it all happen? How do you live? How do you cope? How do you do it?
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is authenticity overrated?
In Vinland Saga, the main antagonist, Askeladd said an insightful line that caused Thorfinn to second guess the revenge path he was persevering with for years on end. After yet another duel, Askeladd said:
“Everyone is a slave to something.”
Hey guys, I haven’t posted anything in two weeks. I have a lot of topics in mind, but just didn’t have the energy to write anything. These past few days I’ve also been thinking to myself, should I even write? What if what I write is nothing new, and it makes it uninteresting? I guess that’s what encouraged me to come back from my short hiatus with this essay.
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To be authentic, in a social context, is to be free of any expectations that other people might have on for your life. It is to achieve the highest form of freedom that only you desire, which separates you from the majority, making you interesting and inspirational.
However, does authenticity really matter today, when everyone is racing to be relatable? Influence topics such as micro labels on TikTok may suggest that you are authentic, but it actually does the opposite. To be truly authentic in this day and age means to escape every single advertisement and propaganda (ew, strong word) that is constantly shoved on our faces.
On trains, every 2 tweets you scroll, literally every single TikTok video ever, unsolicited Instagram ads in between stories, and.. 3 ads before a YouTube video now? Are you kidding me? In fact, you might see an ad after you scroll by this post. We live in an era where influence from others is so ingrained within our culture, it’s impossible to truly reach your highest form of freedom.
And I think that’s okay. Well, sort of.
According to existentialist philosophers, we are all born with a fundamental freedom. That we are, at our core, allowed to do anything and everything we wanted to. However, the reward of being completely free comes with the risk of being constantly lost. Which sounds quite exhausting, which is why we are creatures of routine. Routines hold us down when life is shaking us. Routines prevents us from going mad. Routine exist not for it to cage you, but to free you. Free you from decision making, free you from the pressure of taking the best course action, free you from constantly being in your head. Routine creates space and time for you to just, be.
While routine is good, it also scares people as a routine too mundane will feel suffocating and dull. Every day you spend sticking to your routine is another day you are trapped in your own circumstances, supressing your human desire to be somewhat free. The space created by a routine that is supposedly there to assist your desire to be free, is now feeling a bit counterintuitive. It’s seen as mere gaps in between activities, rather than time for you to be your own authentic self.
Authenticity is supposed to make you unique. Yet how will you ever be unique if you are stuck with a 9 to 5 and hit the gym everyday and only see the same three people for the next decade? Having spared only a few hours to ‘do your thing’.
Well, does it really matter? In the constant battle to not be boring, we tend to chase an authenticity that might not even exist anymore in this age of constant oversharing, and the awfully close proximity capitalism have in normal people’s lives, going as far as hiring employees who are so Gen Z and influencing other so Gen Z people to buy their so not Gen Z products.
So does being less authentic makes you less unique? I don’t think so. Uniqueness is when you might know something the next person don’t, yet there are still some things that you might have in common. Maybe you and your friend in book club both read Percy Jackson last week. But on Fridays she’d be crocheting like crazy while blasting Mitski and you’d be going to a gig 4 hours away from home. And that makes you both unique.
To be completely authentic means disregarding yourself as a member of society and refusing to have anything in common with the rest, which can make it harder for you to integrate into a community. And if we’ve learned anything from the pandemic, is that we need to be in a healthy one. Your uniqueness will always be retained in the midst of this being relatable era because there will always be a mix match of niche things that other people might not share with you! Worrying about being authentic can be quite tiresome, and you are not expected to do that.
In conclusion, since I’m such a fawkin Libra, I would say that being your authentic self is neither good or bad. It should be pursued in moderation. It might take a bit more time but that’s okay, do it while you’re sane. People who are totally different from you most of the time aren’t any better. They’re just that — totally different from you. And if you wanna be like them, well go ahead. It does not make you any less of a person than they are either. I’m sure they’re inspired by someone as well. Because that is the beauty of humanity after all.
Thanks for reading!
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References and post inspo
1. philosophy and film: “don’t look up” and the fear of authenticity & sincerity by oliSUNvia (https://youtu.be/khqTXJPX3CA)
2. Episode 167. When Burnout Gets Out of Control by The Self Love Fix Podcast (https://open.spotify.com/episode/2Ca6SCpCySfu9NwvDTdLPN?si=YbJiodniQX-6-snrpqtRoQ)
3. Atomic Habits by James Clear
youtube
#routine#philosphy#writing#authentic living#authentic self#youre doing great#im so sleepy#goodnight#Spotify#Youtube
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TW: Sexual abuse
Belladonna of Sadness (1973) is a Japanese adult animation art film by Eiichi Yamamato. It follows the story of Jeanne, a peasant woman who makes a deal with the devil after being sexually abused by the local nobility on the night of her wedding with Jean, her husband.
Some might argue that this film portrays feminist themes as Jeanne managed to lead and sexually liberate the entire village, who at first, shied away from even the thought of sex. That, after overcoming her trauma, she managed to invite other people to be comfortable with their body.
But I have to disagree. This film was violent, extremely sad, and unsettling. There are barely any feminist themes here, mostly sexual manipulation. Just horrifying from start to end.
Actually I’m not even recommending this film I simply just want to make an edit of it… which I’ve thought about multiple times since I’m not a huge fan of the plot. I mean, what much can you say about a ‘feminist themed’ film in 1973? Though I have to say, the graphic is poetic in the most horrifying way possible. Yet I simply can’t tune in to it, I find myself skipping many scenes.
Again, kinda just want to make an edit of the film. I don’t recommend it. I mean you can but it’s just horrifying in so many ways. The first 40 minutes is actually impossible to watch without wanting to throw up. At least for me! But hope you like the edit xo.
Anyway the vibes is really off for this one LOL I’m gonna go drown in silly k-pop videos now bye
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Note: No writing this week. I just don’t have much to say I think. But I do feel like whipping up an edit and I’ve been obsessed with Sasurai by Hako Yamazaki and thought I just have to do something with it xD.
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Building a routine around the weather
Living with my grandparents means that you wake up at Subuh and start your day. You have lunch around Zuhr, teatime after Asar, dinner before Maghrib, and watch TV together until it’s time for Isha then everyone goes on to do their own activities until bedtime. How simple that is. I think it’s quite fascinating. After I moved to the city, my life has not been quite like that. It consists of everyone always going about their own business. No specific time of getting together. Lunch, dinner, supper was all within our own schedule, despite being under the same roof.
As a teenager, I have always struggled to create a routine, especially after moving out of boarding school. There is no longer a routine tied to a community or family, rather just a life that depends solely on the decisions I make on the daily. And that was intimidating, and a bit lonely.
I discovered the concept of creating a routine based on your energy level about two years ago. Do low intensity activities when your energy level is a bit on the lower end, such as reading at 9pm, or meditating early in the morning. Do high intensity activities when your energy level is high, such as exercising in the evening, or maybe in the morning if that’s how your energy graph is like. It was an interesting concept, but it seems so personal, initially I thought it might take a whole lot of observation to determine what your energy level is like. Yet our energy levels vary greatly in our day to day, you might be doing different things every day that might affect your energy level, so keeping track of it might not always work. I liked the concept, tried to implement it but failed constantly.
I was sitting outside yesterday, observing the weather. It was sunny and windy, great for reading I thought. But it was 2pm, usually I would be super sleepy around this time and would not even bother to pick up a book. It was a bit shocking to see that the weather is making me want to read. This is also the thing about living in the city, the weather doesn’t really change anything. You’re inside all the time, everywhere you go you’re almost always blessed with AC. Your home, malls, cars, MRTS. The weather has just become somewhat.. a transitional condition before you continue on with your fast-paced life, rather than a guide to how you should spend your day. Like how prayer times for Muslims normally mark the beginning of each portion of the day, morning, midday, late afternoon, evening, and night, while it signifies time, it also signifies the weather to a certain extent. Or maybe the atmosphere to be precise. Nature's atmosphere, not the one we set. I think our own routine is nice to be built around the weather. As it feels like I’m moving with the day, rather than through it.
While energy levels help us build a routine by reconnecting with ourselves, the weather helps us do the same with nature. Inner and outer connection. And our energy levels are more often than not, determined by the weather, no? Living slow also means observing what the sky is like and what it makes you feel like doing. I can’t recall the last time I said, “Wow what a nice weather it is to take a walk.” I wonder if people only say that in movies? Or am I just chronically a homebody.
I haven't attempted to develop a routine that takes into account both my energy levels and the weather. It’s difficult. I might not be able to do this all the time even. But perhaps planting tiny routines in each day in correlation with the weather, will make me feel more at ease with nature, more like an inhabitant in this world.
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Nurture starts from within.
What are we, if not mirages of our past selves?
Inhabiting in a body that has lived decades upon decades in the same form requires us to recognize the different, unhealed, or healed versions of ourselves. This is also to say that we might be alternating between our past and current selves based on variables that is so vast it might be impossible for us to distinguish it one by one. There might be 20, or 50, or 100 different versions of you, each with their own headstrong beliefs and impactful experiences. While this might be overwhelming, it is also reassuring. Reassuring of our existence, experience, and the fact that our current self, is wise enough to advise all our past selves. This is the start of trusting oneself.
On days where our bodies feel slightly off for no apparent reason, consider that something might have happened on this same day many years ago, affecting us as a child, which is still within us. They might be dysregulated for a reason unknown to us. But it’s okay to not know everything about ourselves. Living in the present means being the most matured and knowledgeable version of yourself. Living in the present means showing yourself the highest form of compassion towards your body, that has gone through hurdles after hurdles. So treat these emotions as such, with grace and love.
While our cells regenerate daily, our soul remains distressed if not nurtured and cared for. Shadow work starts from realising that trauma is stored in the body. As someone who used to, maybe still a bit am, obsessed with self-improvement, trying to be a better person and whatnot, it made me realise trying to constantly fix yourself as if there’s something wrong with you strays you further away from trusting yourself and being there for your inner child. What kind of parent are you if you are always trying to mould your child into the textbook good person when they are still curious and learning about life? How can you change them when there is no development to begin with? What is there to change when mistakes haven’t been made?
To shower your body and soul with love and compassion is to show your inner child that the body they inhabit in is safe. A few days ago, I started looking at it all from above, and recognising which version of my inner child is talking to me. When I’m feeling a bit grumpy, does that mean my 7-year-old self is in need of reassurance, or a bath perhaps? When I’m feeling apprehensive, is my 16-year-old self stomping in anger uncertain about the future? When I’m feeling inadequate, is it my 19-year-old self stuck in the thought process that she does not deserve a place on earth? Listen, reassure, and try to move accordingly. Tell yourself it’s okay, buy yourself an ice cream, let yourself be reminded of your worth, let yourself laze around. In the end, if you won’t give yourself the specific care you need, who will?
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Am I a Sim?
A deep-rooted fear of not being good enough is probably something that is so etched into our identities as human beings. Often it might take years, decades or even a lifetime to grow out of this horror. The girl next door is so cool, so smart, she’s killing it. Me? Ehh, I’m whatever. Nothing I do is special, nothing I put out is something that can’t be replicated by others. I’m not gifted, I’ve never been. If you press random on a Sim character you’ll get me then you’ll just go with it just because you’re too lazy to customise it. But is that a bad thing? When you press customise again, it’s unlikely you’ll get the same version of that particular Sim anyways.
Maybe I’m mediocre in my own, cozy, fun way. Yes okay, maybe a random Natasha can do exactly what I’m doing and more even though she’s in Medicine instead of Engineering. Yes, maybe the random classmate I never talk to can finish my projects faster than me if it were up to them. But recently after judging everybody’s looks at Met Gala even though I didn’t get an invite made me realize, the key difference is while theoretically they can do all this, I’m the one putting it into practice, not them.
Why did it take me so long to understand this? I noticed I have quite a skewed view on life growing up, but Jesus, this concept is really simple, and I missed it? Has anyone else noticed this before? Well at least I realize that now. For decades, why was I so hung up on other’s theoretical potential than applauding the fact that I am currently working to live up to mine? People may be better than me, but currently they’re not doing what I’m doing, and even if they are, we live different lives no? If everyone has the exact same niche as I do and live my same exact life, would they be able to do exactly what I’m doing and more? Honestly, probably. And that used to bring me down every time I think about it. But now I think, well, are they actually doing it? Natasha who excels in Engineering isn’t here, she’s in my head. The real Natasha is out there crying over lung textbooks or whatever. This not good enough fiasco is starting to sound really silly now. I guess that’s the thing, you will never actually know what you can do unless you try it. And I’m trying. I’m the one who’s putting what I want into action, so why on earth would I spend time thinking about how other people can do it better than me, if they’re in reality, not doing it?
I should count on myself more. I wonder if this is what the TikTok girlies meant when they say focus on yourself. Anyway, everyone killed it at Met Gala 2023. Honestly, slay. I am trying to write more now. I am no writer, but if I put out work consistently enough, maybe I can call myself one one day. See you next week then. Sincerely, me and my never-ending journey towards relearning super simple Pinterest quotes. For this one, I’ll call it comparison kills. Xoxo
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Fire of familiarity
I wonder if the sense of belonging can exist outside the warm comfort of familiarity. I wonder if it exists at all.
“When you come from a burning home, you’d think the whole world is on fire.” So it’s no wonder that when I step out and feel the chills of the night wind for the first time, it was intimidating. How scary it is to dip your toes into something unknown for the first time. What was supposed to feel good, didn’t, because in my teens, it has never crossed my mind to leave out everything I’ve known behind and start anew, how scary it must be to live life that way is it not? Maybe I thought I was doing so, after all, who doesn’t want to escape the fire once you know how painful it can be? Yet after decades my body and mind is unaware of what it even means to start anew.
So I find myself seeking out the fire of familiarity in hopes to feel like I belong.
But oh god, now my skin is burning and there’s scars on my body. Why is it still hurting? How come it still hurts? This was my whole life. Should I leave now? Yes I can leave. But oh god, by the time I realised I shouldn’t be intimidated by the breeze, it was already too late. My body is already beat and bruised and nothing the cold do can rid of it except for the brief moment the rain touches my fresh wounds. Soon, I’ll dry myself and the wounds prevail. Again, I seek out that fire of familiarity. In hopes that this time, it will keep me warm instead of burning me. In hopes that this time, I know how to keep my distance. In hopes that this time, I can maybe, finally, get sick of it and leave it all behind forever. Why do I keep going there? Why is it that when it’s not in front of me I keep looking around to find it?
Oh.
The fire of familiarity, feels familiar not from memory, rather from the fact that I have never put out the fire. I myself was on fire all along. The fire I’ve been carrying it with me from the very first day. Oh no, have I gone too far? Is it too late for me? I wonder, once the rain put it down, will I set myself on fire again?
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P.s: this blog is kinda giving elsa (fire version, created by me) a bit idk it’s kinda funny but i like it so leave me alone 🙄
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That painful realisation where after years of running, searching, enduring, it turns out that mother was right all along. So now, who am I living for?
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— i worry about hair
Just when I get over a hurdle, another one comes; and another, and another, and another,
So I start worrying about hair. I start worrying about what to have for lunch. I start worrying about my nails, the shows I watch, the celebrity quarrels.
Why are you worrying about the little things?
It’s all I can take now.
The never ending downfall as one may see it, one thing after another, the never ending trials, another one, and another one, God i need a break. Give me a break.
Sometimes it’s so much you just choke up not even knowing what to say to yourself. I see the little girl in me, what do I tell her? I don’t know. How is she feeling having seen all this? I don’t know. What would she do if she was in my shoes? I don’t know.
See why I’m worrying about hair instead now?
I need something tangible to worry about, something I can feel, something that’s definitely mine. Is my body mine? My mind, my body, my soul, is it not just a mesh of other people’s perception of me? Have I ever done anything to claim it to be mine?
Ahhh, look at where worrying about hair got me. Back to square one, reroute. What hair serum should I buy next?
I’m defeated.
I stopped worrying about things I should be worrying about, because I’m exhausted, because there’s only so much one can take, because my shoulders are so heavy I can feel myself collapsing. Healing is exhausting, I want to let loose. But why do I keep filling myself with other worries? Why? Why? Why?
Why me?
Oh.
It’s time to meditate. Breathe.
So I worry about hair, what it looks like, what it feels like. But it stops there. I worry and worry and worry and eventually go to sleep. I ponder and ponder and ponder and sleep isn’t sleep anymore, it’s just me lying awake until it’s time to wake up.
oh how i wish one day, i can stop worrying about hair.
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Sometimes I think being unnecessarily performative is a small act of self-abandonment
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Passion doesn’t have to be just one thing (or so that's what I used to believe)
To be really honest, I would say that my energy most of the time is really low, maybe average at best. I do things half-hearted, never really had a passion, something that people would go “It’s the only thing that keeps me going” or “Doing things I love never tire me out”. I never really relate to that. I never really get the phrase “play hard, work hard”. Like seriously what does that even mean? To me playing is playing, working is working. As long as you get the job done then it’s done. Why waste your precious energy anyway? I can say that I mostly store energy, if there’s any to even be stored in the first place.
I’ve gone through all my life doing things for the sake of completing it. I need to finish A tonight, I need to do B later. Life to me is just a never ending to do list. And what I noticed was when you’re so used to living mundanely, you start to get dependent on things that gives you a surge of dopamine. You think the things you do daily are so boring you’re desperate to find outlets that offers you a so called “higher vibration”. The buzz that lets you escape from your boring routine. I mean, live your life, right?
And it has worked for me, until it doesn’t anymore.
It’s not like I didn’t try to find something to keep me going. I’ve sewn, sung, embroided, paint, draw, the generic hobbies. I did sports, I played hockey, I tried track and field, basketball, badminton all that. I thought maybe if I persevered it would be enough to consume me and let me have that one thing that brands me. I liked all these activities, they make me happy, but still, I was never attached to any of it on a deeper level. I thought maybe it wasn’t possible for me to be passionate.
Until I fall in love and suddenly that burning passion is all I’ve ever known, because that’s the only time my body and mind truly feel the intense rush. Until you get addicted to that passion you don’t see anything else. Until it’s time for the love to end and it brings you to the lowest low, because you’ve experienced the highest high, because you never really had a strong interest in your own life. You don’t like anything about it even.
Now you know what it’s like to be extremely happy, but it’s not on your own.
Once I learned how intense it was to put your everything to only one aspect of your life, to me now, passion doesn’t have to be one thing. It doesn’t have to only be the sport you venture in the moment you know how to walk. It doesn’t have to only be the musical instrument you’ve picked up when you were 9. It doesn’t have to only be the perfect love you’ve been looking for your entire life. It can be a part of you, and it is, but even with the loss of it, you’re still standing on your two feet. You don't have to be so fierce in one thing when you know you weren't even like that on a daily basis.
Because passion can be the little things too. Instead of eating your lunch, you savour it. Instead of sleeping to wake up, you feel the relief of being able to rest after a long day. Instead of routinely crying, you truly sit and feel out all your feelings. You can choose to live passionately. It heightens your vibration, and mundane things feels more.. colourful. Learn to get used to being at a high vibration. So you don’t accept anything in your life that has the potential to lower it. So when someone comes to offer their energy you don’t get dependent on it. Regulate your own energy, to your liking and your liking only.
So brush your teeth a little harder, sing like there’s no tomorrow, focus on your work like it’s the only thing in front of you. Indulge in your own life, so you don’t get too influenced by others. It’s okay to not have that one specific passion, and to be honest, it’s hard to find it when you’re not even interested in your routine and the things you do daily. Because whatever you venture in next will always seem mundane to you. At least for me. Even when I was out doing amazing things, I just think of it like it’s whatever. How will it ever be possible for me to find my passion that way?
And hey, energy can always be regained, so don’t be afraid of losing some, you’ll always get it back.
That’s why we’re still alive.
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Nana by Ai Yazawa
"No matter how busy we are, on this one day we meet in this room, carrying the same pain inside." - Nana Komatsu
Watching this when I'm also in my early 20s really messed me up big time. Having your thought process, your bad decisions and how you act being so relatable on screen makes me feel so exposed in a borderline uncomfortable way. At first I thought "Wow they made this anime ridiculously emotional", but seeing back, it's closer to real life more than anything. Having my own share of bad decisions amplified the pain even more as I progress through the anime.
As a young adult myself, the need to find a 'love' replacement to fix your broken heart, the abandonment issues, all felt too real. The need to go back to that one night where you had the most fun with people close to you, and the pain of realizing you might never get it back due to the nature of eventual broken relationships really hurts. Watching NANA made me feel like I'm watching my own bad decisions on screen and it's so ironic because their bad decisions made me so angry.
The infatuation you feel towards another woman who you see are more put together is also displayed in this show. It shows that the women whom you feel so inferior to is in the end, venturing through life blindly as you are as well, just in different ways you find more admirable because you know, you don't carry yourselves how they do, even when there is no certainty that they like how they carry themselves.
One more thing I'd like to point out is how everything in this anime happens in quite a short timeline, and I feel like it's fair considering how being in your early 20s is just changing your skin every so often that you might not be the same person you were last week.
Overall this was too much of an emotional roller coaster for me to watch twice. It's funny, painful, eye-opening and overall a really, really good anime. I'd recommend this to everyone who's just stepping into their adulthood
favourite tracks
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My View on Self-Worth Explained Using Minecraft (Of course..)
“But… why Minecraft?” because that’s the only game I’ve been playing lately (don't judge) and I just have to drag everyone into it.
This is gonna be a little symbolic (not in a Darren Aronofsky way I hope) (Mother! really freaked me out, that’s for another day) so buckle up!
Here's my most recent cute little Minecraft house:
(My Minecraft house exterior, please don’t ask what’s inside)
Can you spot the dark green vines? And did you notice that every strip grows at a different rate? And yes as expected, all this while that’s how I used to perceive self-worth. That for every individual, it is something you grow, something you nurture, something that if given the right amount of water and sunlight, it will flourish and flourish and flourish.. until it eventually dies. In a way, it makes sense to view it this way right? We were born under different conditions, we are all born into different environments growing up, fed different foods, went to a different Kumon probably. But does that define one’s self-worth? That’s when I realize, this perspective promotes one thing I’m not so fond of;
Comparison.
That if each and every one of us are of different seeds, we will grow differently, some will wilt earlier because of the lack of resources, some of us are trees that bears fruits and some are weeds that wilts the next day. Pretty hurtful to put it that way right?...Right?
It also puts me in a position where it is easy to always feel resentful. “This wouldn’t happen if I was born into a better condition, I should’ve been given more opportunities” and whatnot, which, to be fair, is true, but does the system's failures a great measure to your worth? Well, I used to think that. Which eventually lead me to the conclusion that because of everyone else, I can never be enough. So what encouraged me to grow out of this perspective?
After listening to The Self Love Fix podcast by Beatrice on Spotify (not sponsored unfortunately) (also I forgot which episode) I realized that.. what if we’re all born with the same light? Same brightness, same power, same warmth. And this light happens to be brighter than any light ever, light that won’t ever dim, and we’re all that.
(The light in question, impressive visuals I know)
However as we grow, things start to pile up. Expectations, disappointment, traumatic events, past mistakes, abandonment, betrayal, it all starts to... pile up. And as we go, more and more baggage (or in this case, concrete bricks) starts dimming our light externally, until, the worst case scenario, you can’t even see anything anymore.
Now your self-worth is hidden behind the baggage you carry. You now define yourself by the mistake you did a week ago, or the traumatic event that changed your life 10 years ago. Because now, that’s all you see. However, now and then, you still feel the warmth of your self-worth, which is why sometimes you make pretty good decisions, you gather the courage to walk away from what is not for you, you stand up for yourself when things aren’t right sometimes. But essentially, you can no longer see what you’re worth, you just follow your instincts. And because you can't see any light shining within you, you start limiting your beliefs. You limit and limit and limit until all that you think you deserve is to be able to survive the next day.
When it comes to self-worth, I think this is what the cycle of life is about. You’re born with this warm, burning light inside of you, then the blocks starts stacking up, and as you reach a certain point in your life, you try to remove it one by one through healing, acceptance, forgiveness, until one day, you can slowly see the light shining through again. Until one day, you start to believe again, you believe that you deserve more than a maybe, you deserve more than to be someone's backup plan, you deserve more than your shitty job, you deserve more than what being happy previously meant to you. Except now, the light grows even more intense, because you already know what it’s like to be in pain, to not even get a peak of the light, to feel so worthless you had to keep venturing outwards in hope that someone will remove the blocks for you.
And so the challenge in self-worth is not to grow it, but to let it shine through you, once again.
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