journaljsmn

[journaljsmn]

Today I thought I was tired of pretending,but when I took a step outside I did it anyways

[journaljsmn]

2/19/2021, about poetry

I thought I was a good writer but turns out I just write words. With poetry, every single word is carefully chosen to fit, to hit you in the right place & tim, every syllable has it’s own unique meaning. I wish I could construct feling into word just like poets do.

Poetry is my saviour in this big, scary world. I can feel anything and be sure someone already felt like that before me and wrote about it. It’s the only way I don’t feel alone all the time. I do still feel alone most of the time - but somebody else already wrote about that.

[journaljsmn]

2/16/2021

I am so tired of this situation we’re in. Of not seeing my friends, not meeting new people (and I used to hate it before  the pandemic - that’s how desperate for a human interaction I am), of having to sit at my desk staring at a computer screen every day for six hours, of being limted in so many ways. Of being in a room that I already know from every single perespective. Of not being allowed to be a teenager.

We live in a historical time, in a world-changing era, but it’s not nearly as cool as it sounds. It’s just tiring and sickening.

Thankfully, I have my brain to keep me company. I know myself very well, and I am a good companion to myself. At least I have that.

[journaljsmn]

2/14/2021 Today, I thought about sadness

I like the idea of happiness being like water and unhappines more like a syrup - it’s easy to drown in and hard to get out of and even if you manage to do that, you still feel the stickiness on yourself.

It’s obvious I’m sad today. I should’t let it get to me like that, but I did and now I’m drowning.

[journaljsmn]

2/6/2021

It was always an irrational fear of mine that I will never have that love story I was promised by films and TV shows, but as I get older, it is slowly becoming my reality. I don’t think I have ever been loved - what if I’m unlovable?

Everytime I tell someone, they tell me but you are loved. Someone somewhere loves you, you just don’t know.

But what is love for if it’s not acknowledged? What is love, if it’s not screamed at the top of your lungs? What is love, if not obvious?

If someone loves me, how am I still so alone?

[journaljsmn]

12/18/2020

I don’t think our paths will part, because, admit it, they never met in the first place.

You told me you always think about me when you drive through my town. Who do you think of? You told me you wanted to kiss me. Who did you really want to kiss?

[journaljsmn]

12/22/2020

Liking people is so painful. You do everything for them - you stand in the cold and wait for them while your fingers slowly turn into icebergs, you stand in the dark alone and scared. You get sick everytime it rains because you borrowed them your umbrella two months ago and they never gave it back, but you never bought a new one because what if they will return it one day? You hold them in your arms when they cry, although you don’t like people touching you. You listen to them when they need to talk, you let them speak but once they start they never stop. You are late because they needed you. You never get mad, or tired or maybe you do but you never say anything for the sake of the relationship. You give them everything and they never return it an it is you who thanks them at the end of the day.

You give your heart while they give their ignorance. You drown holding their head above the sea. They never really read your messages (or answer them, on that matter), even though you always answer their calls, and they never really talk to you, or listen to you, or let you talk or care about you at all. It costs you everything to stay in a relationship that they are not even a part of anymore. They broke your heart and then asked for it but didn’t like it was broken (and made you feel like there is something wrong with you).

They don’t like you, and you don’t like you as well and suddenly you are alone, heartbroken and empty, because you loved to much and cared too hard and instead of questioning the one person who caused this, you ask yourself if it was your fault. You think that maybe you didn’t love them enough, or cared about them enough - so next time you fall in love even more, and give them more and wait for them longer and let them speak more and then you end up even more heartbroken and even more empty because at the end, you cannot give more than your heart and to the right person, it should be enough.

You have met people that weren’t right for you. One day, you will give your heart to someone and they will not tear it into smithereens. One day, your love will fit in someone, and until then, you cannot stop loving the wrong people. Because without that, you will never find the right one.

[journaljsmn]

12/30/2020

This year, I didn’t find any new friends

but I found some old ones.

[journaljsmn]

What I learned

First week of school in 2021 is now over - I just finished my history class, the last one for today and the entire weekend. It was hard, not gonna lie. I can’t make myself focus for long enough, I can’t stay motivated for long enough to actually accomplish something, but at least I tried, and I believe that counts. 

Maybe - if I try for long enough - it will get easier for me. Right now it’s just too hard to go for more than one productive day; I’ve been procrastinating for so long that I don’t even remember how actual work feels, but I have to believe in myself. I have to believe that one day I will be able to accomplish something - whether it’s going to university or just finishing the homework the day it was assigned. 

I guess that the only way to find out is to keep trying.

[journaljsmn]

I’m sitting on the floor

I’m sitting on the floor and wondering if this is the lowest I’ll ever be. I just had to leave my class because I was feeling sick and vague and existing felt impossible, how was I supposed to stand? So I left and sat on the floor and cried and I hear my mother excercising upstairs and I feel like a failure and I keep misspelling words.

The floor feels comfortably cold, and solid and real. Now my dad is upstairs, they’re talking. I don’t want to go there. I will have to, eventually, but not now. I will have to take a shower and go on with my life, but not now. Not yet.

I am dissolving into the floor. Maybe, if I sit here long enough, I will simply stop existing.

[journaljsmn]

12/31/2020, things I’ve learnt in 2020

I dedicated this year to myself - my fears, my passions. I wanted to finally find out who is me, but now I know you can’t define yourself; not really, because definition excludes the possibility of change.

[journaljsmn]

Sometimes I don’t want to be pretty

I don’t have to be, in the first place. Sometimes all I want is to be ugly.

When I walk down the street and I feel eyes on me. Scanning me, judging. If I were ugly, no one would want to look at me.

When I’m in a room with a drunk man, or

when I’m forced to dance with somebody I don’t want to dance with.

When people make comments on my body they should not make, or

when they touch me in a way they should not touch young girl.

None of these things would happen if I were ugly, right? Or maybe - none of these things would happen if my body belonged to me and me only. If it wasn’t viewed as some faceless, soulless thing; dead, unable to feel or think for itself. None of this would happen if for others, I weren’t just a body, not a person: whole and alive, and most definitely able to feel.

[journaljsmn]

I woke up late & feeling ugly

and I really couldn’t do anything about that, except for reminding myself that I dont have to be pretty - but if I wan’t to be, then I am just by deciding that. Because who decides what is pretty and what is not? No one but ourselves. We often forget that the only opinion that matters is ours, and we judge ourselves by what we think others would think. but the truth is in the end, it’s about what we think. And if we stop asking ourselves “What would they think?” for a moment and ask “What do I think?” instead, then maybe, one day, we will be pretty just because we said so.