Cosimo Galluzzi
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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bliss lane
shark vs the universe
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@theartofmadeline
YOU ARE THE REASON
we're not kids anymore.
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@painfulgrowth
If somebody knows they can have better and they don't want it, leave them to their misery.
Those who move on and those who pine endlessly only differ in choosing self respect. One wants to be an active part of their relationships and actively considered, the other doesn't require it.
Why are you giving him a second chance with you when so many are still waiting for their first?
And you know what. I am happy about the guy i am talking to. It is a spot of joy in my small life. Even if he isnt everything yet or i dont know everything yet. I am enjoying the moment and his presence.
I do need to test:
Sociopolitical beliefs- racism, sexism, politics
Islamic beliefs- abortion, qu e erness
Money- Hardworking, drive, competent
And then finally on the personal end:
Commitment to me, devotion, intentionality
Care and consideration, wanting to be a provider, able to handle criticism, able to change, able to communicate, wanting to be the one for me, in love with me, able to be my reliable dependable steady place of support, not lustful, honorable, integrity, etc etc
I found out the real issue is I can't handle my emotions. Everything can be fine but I will eventually feel the same way anywhere. Everywhere you go, at times you will feel rejected, hated, unwanted, a burden, unloved, annoying, and disliked. Everywhere you go it will happen and drag you down. Even when things are way better. It happens everywhere.
I'm here and I'm still asking God why I feel sad. I'm away and I still feel hated.
I do feel a lot better in general though. More motivated, better about myself, more useful and efficient and positive and uplifting. But it's because I am a guest. At the end of the day I should be able to feel this way at home too, and I just dont.
Even with the positivity, I feel a sense of dislike or toleration from people sometimes. I can tell my aunt doesn't like me anymore like she used to before last year. She might just have been tired coming home so late but it's the lack of warmth even when she sees me. She used to always have warmth for me.
Everyone else is fine.
My uncle talked to me because he was concerned about how my grandma was talking to me. He said to tell him if she pressures me about marriage because she won't know the limits and that he will check her. He asked me about the process so that's nice.
He also talked to me about my career and lowkey that's what I needed. Someone to just help me figure it out and give me a few notes of guidance. He says that the economy ebbs and flows and you just go with it and find someway to make what you do useful even if it's tangential to your specialty. He said theres always a way and to stick at it and keep trying. And that's what he did too.
My aunt is weird about my family. She said some things and asked me some questions that made it seem like she was fishing for potential drama and also like she was lowkey competing with my side of the family. She seemed happy when I told her the electricity sometimes doesn't work at home, and almost disappointed when I told her there were no issues at the airport last year when I came super last minute to the festivities.
I got to teach soccer to the younger one, draw art and do crafts with the older one, and give gifts and spend time with the baby. They all have fears of being annoying and feeling rejected by the world, and they are harsh with each other yet caring. It was sad to see my own struggles reflected in them. They also struggle with psoriasis the way I used to. And they felt bad about it but they shouldn't.
I finally got to chat a little bit with the second oldest and we bonded over korean food so that was nice.
I got to spend time not just with my grandma but their grandparents. They argue and bicker even though they look perfect on the outside. And the family lowkey resents my grandma too and think of her as outdated and dont update her on plans. I can tell they think she's entitled and demanding and I can see when she gets sad. She has a naturally cranky personality and she is bossy from the old days, but it's clear they've moved on without her and don't even want to deal with her if they dont like the tone. But i understand even if it's not ideal. She isnt meant to be perfect.
Their grandma helped me with a few things and i got to speak our language with her and she was very sweet and appreciative. She gave me some earrings and they were lovely. Their grandpa taught me a little about cooking.
I made cookies with the younger one and cleaned up after. I heard my uncle say that I could drive her to the store, even though a few days ago he wasn't super comfortable with that idea. It was nice to take care of people. I got a ton of cute outfits too. The girls kept wanting to braid my hair and I let them. Even though I dont feel attractive anymore, the compliments are nice.
My aunt is awol and I get the sense that even when she can see me, she doesn't want to. I guess the incident last year affected her more than I'll know. I wish she would just ask me about it and be open to discussion instead of just assuming things. But then I get the sense that whenever my mom or anyone in my family does something, it's easier to hate us all.
I felt motivated here. In the car when we drive i make them say their prayers. I spend time with each of them when I can. I love how they communicate. I baked with them, I taught them soccer drills, I made them say their prayers, I enforced cleaning, I did art with them, and I felt encouraged to work again, and confront my demons like the resume. It's really about hope and self belief. I feel like I've been living a life of shame and it stops me from trying to be or do anything. The truth is i am accomplished but im afraid to express my talents because it will remind people i am capable and i am not sure i can excel anymore. But doing things little by little reminded me that I still have the ability. I am not a failure. Im not sure why the shame built up so much, it calcified and became ugly. Maybe because my dad thought so about me clearly. And my mom hates my guts. But she hates everyone. But it's like theres nothing left inside me. My family doesnt respect me anymore. I can tell. They want my labor but they want to spit at me for being depressed for so long and not doing their work for a while.
Talking to the second oldest it became clear to me that she had been depressed and she's on ssris now. It is genetic i guess. She has help now. She's glowing, she's happy, she's livelier and opinionated and she actually looks up, meets our eyes, and talks now. She shares her thoughts and she seems open to socializing. In the past she was behind a wall. I am happy that her family cares for her.
The oldest is on a trip but the younger one told me that she likes me now but still complains a little. So it's confirmed the period of hatred. Hopefully it has passed but who knows how long it will take.
The kids take out the trash everywhere, have to clean up when they eat or take food out. They dont wash dishes but they have to do a variety of chores and tasks for all the people older than them.
It feels weird. The kids are begging me not to go. The teenager is chiller about it. The kids asked me to pack them up and fly them home with me. The others have separation anxiety and dont want to leave me to sleep in case they dont get as much time with me in the morning. I'm sad too. I suppose it was a short trip.
The younger one is so socially acute that she is a savante. She is precocious in a way I can barely fathom. If she has plans, she wants to cancel them as soon as she feels that it is an inconvenience or that others arent excited or willing to go or not participating. She never wabts to feel like she is doing something for herself. But I've learned a lot from her ability to adapt.
I can see now that my issue was never about me. I can be loved anywhere. I mean it shows how the oldest changed her mind about me in two seconds flat ever since the last trip. After years of hatred and my own confusion. And my aunt changed her mind based on her daughter, after years of loving me. My uncle is steady, strict and the same type of weird as me. And the younger ones are sweet. The middle one is temperamental. She went through the same que. er phase and exposure that I did. I'm shocked that everyone's fates keep repeating in this family.
I feel bad. My dad picked a bad one, and he isn't engaging and active and attentive like their father. But he was always more into his work than my uncle is. My uncle is an active father. He interacts with the kids.
I miss my cat most of all. Every time i see their cats, i miss mine more. There is no love like hers, no sweetness like hers, no fire like hers. I don't allow their cats to even risk biting me, because I wont love their bites, their scratches, like I love hers. I miss her sweet little paws and the way she lets me pet her claws. I love her gentleness and her teeth. I miss her little yawns and I miss her lithe, graceful steps, and I miss the way she bounds behind us to keep up with us as we walk and we never even know. I miss her.
They apparently only change their cat's litter once a week or every two weeks. The garage stinks and the cloying smell lingers in the hot muggy air. Their aunt hates the cats. The youngest told me she feels like her mom hates her and might eventually get rid of the cats. I do feel awful. And of course if they arent well taken care of, their behavior becomes unruly. Apparently a friends cat pooped in her moms closet before she kicked it out. I think of the love we have for our cat and how all her vomit and poop troubles only give us information about how well she is and only make us more concerned for her, never less. The one thing that is good about going back is seeing her beautiful face again and feeling her curled up gently next to me when I sleep. I missed her presence.
God really blessed me. I went back to my old posts and saw myself in march dreaming and wishing and longing for her. And then she came, as if miraculously, into our lives. When I told the story, I could tell my aunt was a little miffed by how beautiful and pricey she was. She asked how we afforded one. I told her how lucky we were. She became silent and looked sullen.
I don't know what's happened to my aunt. But I can tell she has changed.
Being here has shown me that these things happen in every household not just mine. The kids feel like the adults hate them every time they get in trouble. The parents get angry with my grandmother and there is a pretty loud fight in the kitchen about the way things go. The tension remains in the air clawing and coiling. The happy elderly couple still fights and argues and takes their mood out on each other, even though they seem quaint and old. The kids snap at each other. And love comes and goes. The loyalty is what stays.
Being involved in work outside of myself helped me to broaden myself. At home i feel constrained and isolated from reality. I dont express my skills at all. Here my experience in coaching came clutch and i was able to help others with my skills. My old experience in drawing came through when they wanted a realistic portrait done. When the kids wanted cookies my experience in baking came through and I made them something from scratch. I felt useful in some way. Instead of alone and dead. I could see i retained value and that my skills mattered and I had value as a person. I stopped feeling washed out and worthless. Even if my career isnt where its at, i had somewhere to go eventually, my uncle encouraged me. And he also opened my eyes to not feeling less than about marriage. I didnt need to force myself into it because i was being pressured. He was right.
It showed me how many cognitive biases and internal narratives were overloading me and clogging me up and dragging me down. How much other peoples negativity i was internalizing and making my responsibility. People are insecure and competitive and unkind and jealous everywhere, even places where there is love abundant. Its not just my reality. My youngest told me about how her cousin was sht talking her behind her back and how much it hurt her. I understand now i am not alone.
The cousins in my homeland judged me here and there but it would have happened regardless. I am beautiful, I am physically gorgeous to whatever small degree, i am vibrant and lively and positive, i am caring and loving, and worst of all, I am talented and skilled. My art was always going to be a problem for them. People were always going to misinterpret me if they chose to do so. You cant win against people like that. But the best case scenario is to not act rashly outwardly and publicly, and to simply confide in those close to you and hone those relationships. Trust in the pieces of love that you do have. Those who want to think badly of you will, but they are wrong to do so. Look how quickly the winds of opinion changed about you, but you did nothing differently. You were the same for many years. And then one day you stopped being mistreated and started being appreciated. Through no doing of your own. This is because it's simply about the smallness of others.
Even the younger one who is more talented and smart than all of the others combined told me about a social abuse bullying campaign at school that some girl was waging against her. It starts young. This girl could lead an empire someday and i am sure that she will. And others have already identified that and started punishing and isolating her intentionally. It happens to the best of us.
It happens everywhere. Its not because there is something wrong with you.
And more things. I feel appreciated and valued for my career here whereas at home i thought it felt dead. I mean maybe because i wasnt involved with family community there, in kids sports or anything, and my family at home is dead inside too with nothing going on but silence or fighting. The house is unclean and disgusting and nonfunctional but i mean that kind of stuff requires money. Here if there is a water leak they fix it, if the electricity stops they fix it. They hire people to clean the grout out or to clean the rooms or to clean the kitchen. The kitchen is mad organized with tons of food, utensils, platters, tools. There are two kitchens, two fridges. Everything is stacked and stacked and stacked. I have no idea how they sat down and organized everything not to mention the storage methods. It must have been meticulous. Every type of cabinet has its own purpose, every drawer has its own set of specific utensils that apparently cannot be confused. The inside kirchen scissors versus the outside kitchen scissors. They have little storage drawers added to the tiniest places imaginable with just the right size. I mean wow.
And they get the newspaper! Every day. And the newspaper has word puzzles ans crosswords and comics. Just like when I was little.
A lot of thwse things cost money that I guess we just didnt have. I guess if we had the money for an electrician and a plumber and a renovator which yes they do have right now as well, and a housekeeper and a cleaner weekly to help with the smaller things that are tough. And the supplies it takes to organize. But instead at home we're just making do with anything and everything is awful. My family is inactive and refuse to participate in being a family or being responsible for themselves. And they hate when i change anything up to. Asking my dad for help is pointless. He checks out and his only request is to not be bothered and he encourages the wrong behaviors in others. The only concept he seems to have any respect for is work. But family? He doesn't care about hosting or being respectable or being clean. He doesn't care about being honest and having integrity anymore. I know it's the lack of resources but we don't truly want for much do we? We can be kind, we can be generous. I don't understand why we have to be stingy with food.
They force the kids to eat here and one day they said they notice i don't eat protein daily and I need to. Daily?? At home i had gotten used to perhaps eating once a day, noodles. I didnt even think about eating regularly, much less protein.
It is what it is. But we shouldnt be the way we are, and I am sad at the state of our house and I can't understand how my dad is content with the way things are. He is okay with them throwing the trash on the literal ground in our yard, not even in bags, just right there onto the dirt like our house is a natural landfill meant to be surrounded by rotting and decomposing feces and food. I just don't understand. It's like I'm living in a mental health nightmare, a looney bin.
So in that post, like yes she made mistakes but it was a self deprecating joke and the only real issue is that in front of her coworkers it makes her come across as easy and without standards or self respect when it comes to those activities, and secondly it made him seem temporary. It is indubitable that the coworkers made her a laughingstock for being vulnerable and real, and that they made fun of him by going up to him, telling him, and making him seem like a joke for dating that kind of person. He felt socially humiliated.
He felt humiliated in front of others, he didn't like that she put him in that position, but also he just didn't like her enough or wasn't accepting enough to deal with it as an awkward moment or a flaw, and so he just dipped. Yes he wants a good role model for his daughter and not a second responsibility, yes he wants a partner he can admire and not a project to teach, a wife and respectable adult and not another daughter to tell what to do and show how to be. But at the end of the day, he just didn't really see her as his partner and was still figuring out how he felt and just going with the flow, and he had to admit he didn't like her that much in a serious way to deal with his emotions.
If I was serious with him he would know I had empathy, I had feelings, I had a world inside of me and I couldnt let him know that. It was easier to play the bubbly oblivious self centered superficial persona of a material girl.
He's not my friend or an equal, he's my competition. And he's a companion. He's my witness. He's the only one left still living from my childhood. He reminds me that it was real. I didn't imagine my childhood. It happened. It was real, I was there. He is the last one remaining.
It has always been a love story and not a romance. I got to be someone's younger sibling for once, taken care of, annoying and demanding, able to be flawed, no longer being the one that everyone relies on.
I liked pretending that I was vapid and shallow and self absorbed. I didnt want him to know my real worries and issues. I didnt want anyone to know I was hungry, or sad, or beaten down, or in pain. I could act vapid with him and get my needs met without actually revealing the issue. I kept asking for desserts i didnt need to see how long it would take until he would finally say no.
I am sad. That was the bedroom i died in. These winds haunt me, the dry desert air with the smell of death in them. I hear her voice, her gentle touch, her generosity. I saw his grave, alone in a forest of canopies. My blood is mixed in this ground, my soul is baked in the clay of the bricks that built these cities. I remember the alleyways and me hiding between the broken bricks behind the corners of crumbling buildings. I remember my sandals on the dry dirt of these long long roads and i remember my ombre purple and blue translucent scarf and I remember the kohl on my eyes and my bead choker and my legs running under the canvasses of the outdoor venues, ripping up the long fabrics around my legs and getting up to race again. I remember the long windy summers with the hot dry wind and the electricity that never stayed on. I remember myself. I remember she was abandoned here. I remember missing my father and I remember wishing i could climb out the window with a plank of wood and sneak into the balcony next door.
In that bedroom again, with that old mahogany wood and that mirror I am too big to stretch to see now, I am sad. The voices of those who loved me are no longer here. The universe of my childhood is gone. The nighttime adventures of my youth and my sharp innocence has slipped away. And this house is no longer mine.
He is the only one left from that time, a companion from the races and haunts of the old days. A witness. But even he isn't a confidante. He will always be competition. This is his home now, not mine. My little fingers will never grace this oak drawer again. I remember her. I left her here. I abandoned her in this land and never came back. I lost my language, my culture, my love. The cloying weight of emotions heavy in the air of this city. I left her here and everything changed, and everything died, and now I am here again, unsure of what I became, and wondering who I could have been if I'd simply stayed home with the people who loved me.
Such a cheap interpretation, that men and women cant have bonds with each other without giving into the inexorable urge to fulfill an essentialist goal of copulation. That everything has to be boiled down to wanting to have sex.
It's so cheap when it was wholesome and sibling coded on my end.
Ocean eyes by billie
And Stupid Song by olivia
She made her room her own universe. She didnt have a sewing machine and she didn't know how to sew but still she took out a needle and thread and started the piece of the jacket project that she felt that she could do. She wrote about depression and hatred and anger and despair in her poems even though they weren't helpful for anyone nor reflective of anyone but herself. She said she wanted to lay evidence of her existence, for someone to bear witness to her, for the universe to remember her whether or not they loved her. She wouldn't leave this earth without evidence of the cosmos within her.
I picked up a pencil and started drawing. Now i am drawn to writing poetry again, even though I know it won't help anybody, and no one cares. It's ineffectual, useless. It's why I stopped writing, stopped drawing, stopped baking, stopped participating in the universe, stopped expressing my art, stopped trying to be me.
But she wrote about her despair. She wrote and wrote and wrote, endless poems about how she hated this world, and wanted to die. And even though it wouldn't help anybody, or take away the feeling, or spread love or goodness in the world, she jotted it down anyway. Not just release, but expression. She found it worthy of recollecting. She was rejected by the world and still she wrote, and she wrote about her rejection. She didn't shy away because of unworthiness. She wrote about the unworthiness. And Unlike me, she wasn't ashamed about feeling too much. She embraced it and made beauty out of it.
For years I refused to pick up any medium of mine, refused to continue making art, until I knew I could make something positive, that sent a good message, or something that would encourage me instead of devolve further into my angry depressed mess. But somehow it is only now that I see that it is still beautiful to make art out of my anger, hatred, and despair too. I didn't have to be silent all those years. I could have embraced the humanness, the universality, of how i was feeling. My existential pain. I could have expressed it and made something beautiful instead of stifling myself and suffocating my voice.
I think i will start to write again now.
I am so beautiful. My existence is so beautiful. I am so selective. I have so much passion and joy and talent and love and art and universes swirling inside of me. Infinite. There is such a privilege to being a witness to that. I hold the library of alexandria in my mind.
I drew again for the first time in a long time and seeing the vision i had in my mind be displayed on paper before me, as if transported directly onto it, was transformative. I haven't drawn in what may be seven years at this point. I feel like I unlocked something within me. I want to see what more I can translate to the world from within me. I am in awe of my ability to make beauty into the world from something in my mind. I am alive. I still live. I thought she slept, i thought she slumbered, then I thought she died. But here she still is. I want to see what more I can bring into life. I amaze myself and I want to keep amazing myself by bringing into the world the ideas that come alive in my mind. I want to surround myself with my ideas and keep seeing the worlds within me reflected around me.
Fantasizing about the kind of man I want now, especially someone who does feel protective over me and has the courage to make sure of it too instead of running and leaving me behind.
I'm understanding, too empathetic and forgiving. I would feel guilty shutting down disrespect, dismissal, entitlement, and recognizing my own value in someone's life.
I want someone who's sure about me. For whom being with me is something they are certain about, with no doubt. I want someone I can look up to, admire, trust, and feel secure in. I want someone who recognizes me as the cosmic gift and mercy upon them that I am.
To stick with him would be to block me from my one. And my one is coming. I don't want to stop myself from experiencing that joy, that serenity, that peace, and that beauty with someone.
We got along and it felt right. But my soulmate wouldn't have left me feeling uncertain about myself and not secure in his commitment and devotion to me. He would have put me in a bad situation and ultimately didn't want the best for me, just the most from me for ultimately what would have been his own benefit, and no matter what kind of love there is between us, that's not something I can allow as my endgame. I'm no longer open to a future with him. He cannot be the one, he lacks the other qualities I need in my partner. He has the personality and comfortability without the trust and stability and security that I would need in my husband. I want to feel that joy of knowing peace. I would never have it with someone who wavered and didn't choose me the first time. The right person would know once they'd met me and not be able to walk away from that truth within. They wouldn't give it a chance. But he did choose to lose me. Even though fate brought us back it was not because he chose it. I want someone who couldn't let go of the knowledge that I am it for them. There is no doubt, no hesitation, no uncertainty in their mind when it comes to me. That's my person.
He is a boy, but I want a man. He is immature and indecisive and I cannot respect that. I want someone certain of me, steady and stable and sure, and whom I can admire and hold with pride in front of the world. I am not going to lower myself and settle. As they say, go be sad. Then be free.
Well I've learned that he's a massive idiot who's easily manipulated by his creepy conniving partner and he doesn't know how to think for himself. He lost out on a genuine person and a sincere friend and real family for someone who was spreading things behind his back, lying to him, and saying nasty things to his loved ones. Good luck, and one day I know he'll see her true nature. But I'll already be gone and he will have lost out on me.
I am surprised that she was so threatened that she went to this resort in both aspects, me and him and him and me. I am guessing we must have gelled more than I even realized if it was that important to get him freaked out about me and decieve him to this extent while hiding what she was saying to me in order to get us to not even interact. And to tell me not to interact with my own family to make her feel closer to his family than I do?? She is a grade A creep. And he is a massive loser for putting her on a pedestal and falling for it. Well I don't need to deal with it or pick up his mess. And i never should have had to deal with his psychopathic partner either. I should have told my family immediately what she was saying to me behind his back. Absolute fucking losers, the both of them, in different ways.
He made me feel unwanted and uncared for and unvalued. Disgusted even. Disregarded, forgotten, not respected. Unloved and discarded.
This is not what I want in my life. Doesn't matter why or what he thought was going on, it doesn't excuse his behavior. I choose no.
He's not the prince of this story with two women vying for him. I am not going to compete for him, or suffer for him, or any other thing for him.
She probably told him i was always watching him or monitoring him, since she made that weird and projecting comment at me about the janamaz one time. That I was obsessed with him and always paying attention to him. That would make any interaction weird. And since i did get bored and annoying and clingy being cooped up along indoors, he probably took it to heart in the creepy way she said instead of seeing things objectively.
She probably said i was trying to take her role as his emotional confidante or place of rest, because he did get weird when I told him to calm down in that hideous traffic, as if it was a really ridiculous thing for me to be giving him advice. He got furious. In fact, he suddenly reminded me in that moment of badaam, that barely concealed seething hatred, rage, and disgust that i would even dare speak. I didn't understand what the issue was considering we were literally stuck in a standstill in bumper to bumper traffic. Nothing left to do but enjoy the time since all five of us were definitely going to miss the sunset at that point. But he got so angry and acted disgusted at me for even saying anything.
I don't know, it's everything. Like when i asked them what they thought of the theory that we're living out our memories and instead of telling me if they believed it could be true, he snapped that someone else had already come up with that theory, implying that I was trying to claim it was mine and win points for uniqueness or magical whimiscal manic pixie dream girl vibes. Like no, i was asking what they thought about it, not trying to show off about being fake deep. But it was the immediate negative interpretation of it, the bad faith take, without even a moment's thought of what I was actually asking or saying. Just a projection of my intentions.
Just weird. The whole vibe was weird. I do think at the end of the day, he must have bought into that whole narrative, and after that anything I have done, including being basicly polite, contributed to his preconceived beliefs that I was into him and giving him attention. Any response to his own messages, any question about what the plan was for everyone today, any bored laziness and plea to go to a shop and just do an activity outside, becoming a piece in a narrative about my insidious intentions to be loved and admired by him. I would have gotten creeped out too. Every text would feed into that narrative. Obsession, even when it was normal. He would have ran the other way. He could tell himself every word from me was me chasing him.
Well I'm not going to play into that flattery that he's giving himself. Im not playing such a role and it is quite self aggrandizing for him to believe himself that guy. He flatters himself and it's easier to believe that. No wonder he got immediately weird with me. He started acting disgusted, uncaring, dismissive like i was a burden and gross and he wanted to discard me or get as far away from me as possible and prove to me that he didn't feel close to me. He started acting hella uncomfortable out of nowhere about me even acknowledging him.
It doesn't matter what he thinks. I'm not going to play the convenient part he wants me to. What a massive fucking loser. I'm not going to play the part in their weird fucked up fantasy. I know she wants us to stop speaking to each other, so it worked out either way for her. And i know he wants to believe a weird narrative that she convinced him of because it flatters him. He's a stud, two women vying for his loser bum ass lmao. How dare the both of them. But he's lost out.
Poori zindagi phool (garden) ki tarah hai/poori zindagi aik phool hai
Har pal/lamha phool ki tarah (/hamaare saamne) khool ti hai aur peeche gidti/gidjaati hai // aur yeh zindagi ki har pal phool ki tarah (/hamare saamne) khool ti hai aur (/peeche) gidti hai
(/Hum) bas aik (glance) (shade of eyelashes) dafa dek sakte hai
Lekin iss/iski/uss/usski khubsurati ko poori zindagi ke liye/mein yaad kar te hai
