plenty, plenty of fish in the ocean. @bosokbosek - Tumblr Blog

am i too late to be...?

a strange house this house is. i remember looking at the fridge and recognizing only half of the contents, because who even eats those sweets? mom was diagnosed with diabetes a few years ago, so it shouldn’t be mom. it shouldn’t be anyone in this house, because why? why would anyone have that much sweets in the fridge, where my mom, who has diabetes, can easily see them when she opens the fridge to find her insulin? funny thing is i noticed there are more and more sweet snacks in this house. my mom was not one who loves sugar (she barely adds sugar to her tea!) and yet there she is...

i fear that i am a little to late to ever... love my mom? love my family the ways people are supposed to...? even here, when i’m home, i dont really pay any attention to her. im so immersed in my own sadness... in my own fear, even though mom and i agree that dad takes out his fear onto us and that’s a shitty thing to do.

i’ve only (only?) been away from this house for four years, yet i feel so missed out on many things. tuning in would do me a favour to ease this strangeness i feel in this house that i spent most of my life in. but... so many buts come to mind, and none of them are strong enough. it is no excuse to not check up on my family, but... i continue to do so. i’m clouded with the feeling that i will never be able to tune in with anything, not with my family, not with college, not with my work... i will always be too late to reconcile with anything.

i cried so many times already, this might actually be the most emotional trip to home yet. maybe second to the trip i took in late 2017, but the statement holds. Cimut, the cat that i didn’t instantly love but eventually did, is getting old. he has a laceration on his neck. his neck! i fear that he would die... i fear that he would be ripped apart when he’s out with other cats. i cried, but the crying stop when my dad came back. he joked about Cimut’s wound,

i feel like a child

strange strange strange, i feel strange with my own body and thoughts. i feel like a teenager, bursting anger and intense emotion. except for this, i dont lash out to anyone but myself. I didnt cry yesterday, but im crying now. maybe i should just skip class today. i dont know what i would do, but i would probably prefer not to come to class and risk myself crying in class. im crying and my neighbor is in her toilet. i dont wanna cry and be noisy. i just wanna cry without anyone knowing.

i though t of killing myself some minutes ago. oh that would be nice, would it? i prefer disappearing. ceasing to exist, thatd be nicer. i thought about how convenient it would be if i could erase people’s memory of me, not that it’s that many or anything. it d be cool if we live in the harry potter world. i could just die by saying lord voldemort or something like it. why does it seem so easy to die and yet i havent died?

im too lazy to keep track of my emotions because since im acting out my emptions, i have been tired all the time. i cant even bother to talk to a friend.

i thought of dropping out off my classes and going hom e right away. that would be nice, if i were comfortable with my family. surprise surprise, i am not. i would rather live here, away from anyone. it would probably be cool if i die here. rotting, or something like it. i thought o f giving away all my possessions. i thought of puking every food i have ever digested.

out of all people, why should i have money? all im gonna do wit it is use it to buy food i didnt eat because im hungry. all that money, for food to make me think about food, and not uncomfortable things.

Toktok camekum

Atook atook atoook oh atok

Feeling ugly

Something that I truly can’t get off my mind: ugly. For the longest time, I felt ugly. I still feel ugly sometimes, but I don’t mind. As a kid, I envied my friends, pretty and sweet. Their straight hair, their thin and pink lips, their white skin, their slightly red cheeks, their sleek nails, their photogenic smile. I wanted all of that. I remember feeling ugly in my first year in primary school. A senior, a boy, not exactly attractive but he talked a lot, told me that I have duck lips. When people started owning phones, I did too. I struggled to take a photo of myself, smiling with my hair looking weird no matter how much I brush it. I always wonder, how can they take such nice photos of themselves?

To this very day, I still struggle to take a photo of myself. That’s just one thing. The other thing that I’m still struggling with is posting a photo of myself. So many things make me feel helpless, but this one is extraordinary. It’s not particularly unique, of course. But I think people post a photo of themselves at least once every three weeks. I don’t know.

What I’m trying to say is that feeling ugly makes me want to hide from people. Now, my friends wouldn’t call me ugly. They wouldn’t look at me like I’m repulsive. But that fear lingers on. It cripples me in so many ways. I feel strange when I post a photo of myself. I take it down, I put it up, I take it down. I feel seen, and I still feel ugly.

I wish being called ugly some time ago wouldn’t affect me this much, but it does. Some things change, though. I feel more comfortable sending my photos to other people. Nanda helped me exercise that. I am glad. I hope this year I can feel ugly less.

I might write a letter everyday to keep track of my emotions

Hi.

I wanted to cry yesterday, and I want to cry now. I ate too much and didn’t enjoy it very much. I thought of puking all the food I ate, but I thought, I wouldn’t want to waste my money that way. Not voluntarily. I was on the verge of crying few hours ago. I felt so upset out of nowhere, thinking about how disappointed (entitled much!) I am of a friend. It felt strange. To let yourself feel what you want to feel without shame, without guilt, without someone in my head telling me that I should be cool about it, after years of repressing it? Difficult, but relieving as well.

I have always wanted to be chill about everything. So what someone told me that I am ugly? So what a good friend of mine said that I am not worthy of being on their Instagram feed? So what if a friend told me my other friends might think I am insignificant when I am trying to be vulnerable with them? So what?

Having emotions seemed foolish, almost childish. But look at me, I was gonna cry in the supermarket, in the middle of the road, inside a Go-Car. It seemed foolish, and I hated being foolish. But also, I wanted to be foolish if it makes me feel better about my emotions. I felt exhausted all the time lately. I cannot focus on anything, and I overeat. I sleep too much. I ignore group chats. I couldn’t bring myself to talk about how I feel without crying. Watch me say something barely emotional and hear my voice crack.

I know, how bad can it be if I can still function? I can still talk to people, work on my assignments, wash my undies, and everything. I had to do those things. I don’t know if I’m overreacting or not, but I feel very sad. I feel like crying until I fall asleep, and I am gonna continue crying when I wake up. I will cry as I cook and eat and wash dishes and drink water. I want to cry as often as I can. I want my eyes to be red all the time because I cannot stop crying. Would that be better than holding everything inside?

why am i so sad dot tumblr dot com is back

late at night, when im hungriest i feel sad

no no its not only when its late at night, or when im hungry or hungriest

i feel sad

most o the time folks

it feels horrible all the time

but it’s fine.

hey Siri why cant i cry on demand? is that a production defect thing?

anyways here are some things you can talk shit about:

1. me

well that is it. i am the thing that you can talk shit about.

you ask me (no you dont) why i feel sad? no no dont ask haha lol its all jokes and aesthetics my dudes. i dont “feel” sad, i am “sad” lol

why am i here on tumblr? who opens this site anymore?

thats the point hehe, no one comes here anymore. i can be full on weird and sad and no one woul d ask me hey whats wrong because nothing is wrong and im just sad inside all the goddamn time and i wish i can answer your question without beating myself up but now i cant do that extremely impossible thing.

anyways, should i make another noodle to eat?

i wish people would just say that they hate me and that im sickening. i wish i don thave to do anything in this world. why can ti ifnd the courage to kill myself?

ia m a bad person who gives you headache and bore you to the core. i am a bad human who wants the world to get worse so i can feel safe. i wish i was a baby caribou in the antarctic in the summer

i ahvent felt this way for a while and this fucking sucks. wow this reminds me of how big of a baby i am. i wish everything is the way i wanted them to be. i wish something could kill me now or tomorrow.

fuck living and fuck studying. fuck talking to someone

i hurt peoples feelings and it makes me feel guilty to think about it. god, what a horrible person. please, if there is anything like a guest list for hell, help me sign up now lol

Solids

things are solids, they have shape and form and they can be touched

things are solids, they are concrete and exist both in your head and on your palm

things are solids, precisely because you too are solids and you can feel its solidity

you can see its solidity

you can think of its solidity, its texture, its lines, the heat it has, the content of it

things are solids, but they can be liquids, and they can be gases

things are not always solids, and not always liquids, not always gases

things, after all, are just things

for words are not mere words

and to disregard words are mere words

out of touch of anything in your head

i have seen nothing and seen something

at the end of a rainy day

#gif

tibatiba rasanya sesak, pingin mati, pingin hilang tapi aku nggak mau bikin siapa siapa kaget atau sedih karena aku mati walaupun aku nga sepenting matiin kompor sebelum tidur