Hello World

Because journaling was getting lonely

[mr-honey-badger]

The thing about journaling is it makes me feel bitter until everything gets worse by my inability to change.

[forgivehimgoosebumps]

This is the first ever waterfall I visited

I clicked this picture and no I cannot capture it's beauty at all

the waterfall made me want to have that main character moment where I train under that falling water

[forgivehimgoosebumps]

the trees in the hills had lichens growing on them and this means.....no pollution and this reflects A LOTTT in the night sky

I WAS SO MESMERIZED BY THE NIGHT SKY!!

[mr-honey-badger]

Sometimes, in some places, just being mindful of your own existence is enough. No distractions needed.

[mr-honey-badger]

Comfort is overrated!!

[mr-honey-badger]

“I would rather spend days in loneliness than spend a minute getting hurt, unacknowledged.

I would always choose painful solitude over being made to fight for someone’s thoughts and attention.

I would rather let my rage out—to give as much hurt as I take—than accept that I have been wronged by someone I trust.

Is this what people call abandonment issues?”

[mr-honey-badger]

Empathy is a double edged sword.

“After doing 12-plus-hour shifts, surrounded by death and misery, this is the only thing keeping my heart from sinking to the depths of sorrow.”

[mr-honey-badger]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 100 likes!

Ty everyone 🫰

[mr-honey-badger]

Everything is a pillow 😴💤

[mr-honey-badger]

Self sabotage

Is there truly nothing I can do to get myself out of this mess?

Am I lost beyond redemption?

Why do I keep on failing, again and again and again?

When did giving up become my nature?

Do I even care enough to change myself?

Have I become okay with living a life where I put in zero effort—

where I never push myself, where I never spend a single minute outside my comfort zone?

Am I doomed to spend my entire life

blasted with information every single waking moment

till I tire my mind and fall asleep—

no knowledge, no satisfaction?

[blurryfacesandangeleyes]

Reblog to activate the luck of the clover!!!

[mr-honey-badger]

4 leaf clover reminds me of black clover 🖤

[mr-honey-badger]

ACTING MY AGE

28 feels old enough to stop second-guessing every decision I make

to rest when I’m tired instead of pushing until I break

to sit with my thoughts instead of running from them

to speak up — even if my voice shakes — in front of people and elders

to stand up for myself without guilt

to take charge when I know I can make things better

old enough to face the hard things

for me and for the people I love

old enough to stop doing things that slowly kill me

and start doing the ones that keep me alive longer

to build a body that won’t betray me when I’m older

to stop acting like a lost child

to stop searching for someone to guide me

I think I’m old enough now

to raise myself

[mr-honey-badger]

This is Hercules. He looks peaceful now, but he’s full of menace.

His two favourite things are running outside and breaking stuff. 🧿

[mr-honey-badger]

On going mid life crisis-

In a couple of months, I am going to be 28 years old.

Judging by the average life expectancy where I live, statistically, I have already spent 50% of the time I have in this world.

And this thought alone is shaking me to my bones.

I always had very high expectations of myself.

I used to imagine that I would spend most of my time in the pursuit of mental, physical, and intellectual excellence —

that every single day I lived would be full of life and excitement.

The realization that I have spent most of my youth just barely surviving is wearing my heart down.

I can feel it in my chest.

[mr-honey-badger]

Smoking — or even the thought of smoking — is what has carried me through such a major part of my life.

Through turbulent times, whether caused by circumstances or by smoking itself.

It’s not that weed and tobacco got me through the rough times.

It’s that I chose them every time things got tough.

In the beginning,it made me feel good.

But then I started using it every time I wanted to feel good.

And now, it’s gotten to the point where I only feel normal after I’ve smoked.

It’s become almost the only thing that makes me feel good.

Even the things I used to enjoy — I now need weed just to make them bearable.

I don’t know how I’ll quit.

All I know is this needs to end.

And I need to be myself again.

[mr-honey-badger]

For the past six years, every single time I’ve felt an emotion, my response has been to smoke a joint.

Pain, happiness, anger, pleasure, displeasure — I’ve smoked through them all.

I’ve smoked to get myself out of bed.

I’ve smoked to fall asleep.

I’ve forgotten what I was like before I smoked.

I’ve forgotten what my days felt like when I didn’t have this constant urge to light up.

Every time I try to quit, I feel stuck — wondering, what will I be without weed and cigarettes?

What will I do with my days?

[mr-honey-badger]

Watching the sunrise is always reassuring for me — like a promise that things will get better, as surely as the sun will rise again tomorrow.

🌅🌄