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My latest story has a entertainer I like as an inspiration. It was based off a video meme that has been circulating for a while now where he says "Still go to work, but you can meet meet me at night" (iykyk). Somehow, that clip gave me an image of him as this guy who occasionally hooks up with girls. The story, then, revolved around it. I just wrote without thinking much about what he's really like because, hey, it's not like I could meet him and interview him. It's weird and impossible, and there's no point to it.

Now my first draft is done, I have had time to look more into him, specifically, his MVs. To my surprise, his latest album has songs that pretty much line up with what I have written. Even his new songs (performed in his recent Coachella performance) somehow fit there.

I'm not saying that everything they say and I wrote are true about him. As someone who has been reading and writing for most of my life, I know that art does not always imitate life. Art is man made. His songs can just reflect a story that resonated with him; the same way that my story is just something that sprouted out of a meme.

I just find it interesting that what I wrote and what he produced are somewhat aligning. It makes me feel that the story I'm telling isn't so crazy. It's a situation that a person can find themselves in, as fanfictiony as it may be.

I hope this means that my stories have substance, that my stories are not just lame concepts that people cannot relate to. Hopefully, my next story explores real human experiences better. Something with more substance, maybe? I know that they are all just for me and not for publishing, but at least, they're not stupid.

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Your Life in Someone Else's Happiness

It's crazy how someone else's happiness--as seen through getting engaged, giving birth, getting a promotion, going on trips, whatever--makes you think about your own life. You can be genuinely happy about others' lives, but you're always reminded of what is missing in yours.

Why does this happen? What does seeing others' happiness make us feel? What does it say about what we really feel about others? About ourselves?

My little brother just got engaged, and I am so happy for him. They are perfect for each other, and their years together prove that. But ever since I found out about him proposing, I cannot help but think about my own life. My own complicated romantic "relationship" keeps popping up in my head. I marinade and resent my "partner" in the idea of us being on limbo.

In the end, my brother's happiness is reminding me of what's missing in my life. And I feel bad. It's like I cannot be happy for my brother because he reminds me of my sadness. I don't blame him for my life, but the timing of all of this is frustrating to me.

I just need to be focusing on my brother and his fiancée. Not think about me.

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I am so tired, I don't know what to do Should I curse the dreaded day in which I fell in love with you? No, I think its worth the loneliness Just to see your face

“Till the Day” by This is Ivy League

These lines have been stuck in my head for days, and honestly, I cannot help but think of the man who I love/d. I hope you’re doing well, you.

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Comedian, you’re still in my head. 

I still worry about you especially now that the world is crazy. Has it affected your emotional state? Does it make you want to die? I figure you might be flourishing in isolation. You love being alone, as much as I do. But you also NEED to be with people. You need them to get out of your head. I cannot distract you anymore, but I’m sure you have found someone else for that.

I often worry that I’d get a message from your best friend saying that you’re gone. Then, I’d go to your funeral and cry my eyes out. I’d say there for days, and no one would figure out why. No one knows me, who I am to you, who you are to me. I’d just stay and mourn for you.

No, I don’t fantasize. I just worry. I dread. I’m sure that’s the next time I will hear of you. That’s the next time I’ll see you face to face. We’re not talking anymore, after all. 

But what I feel don’t matter. What’s important is you’re okay. I will just secretly stalk your social media whenever I find myself thinking about you.

I love you, my old friend. Stay sane.

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If I ask for the world, will you oblige me?

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Romanticizing Being a Writer

Often, I have this inkling feeling to write. Unfortunately, I cannot satisfy it because I do not know what to write. I know how to, but its content, nada.

For as long as I can remember, I have always wanted to write. I never saw myself as a professional writer, but I have always thought that I’d write everything about anything all the time. Because of my education and tendency in fangirling, I love the idea of being a writer. I romanticize the life of being a writer no matter how sad and self-destructive they are. I wanted to be like them: how they live, what they learn, who they interact with, what they do. As a result, they can write like them.

Unfortunately, I am not talented enough to be like them. Inspiration does not come easily. Development does not flow through me. Symbolisms and allusions do not magically materialize in front of me. I am nothing but someone who wishes to write something profound but limited to thinking about her own life. I only write about what I feel, what I went through, and what I wish would happen. They’re nothing profound at all.

I may write a little, but it’s nothing compared to what I romanticize the writing profession to be. I am not living to my expectation of what kind of a writer I’d be. Inevitably, I disappoint myself. I am not a writer at all.

 3/27/2020 11:19pm

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Isolation--sshmiolation.

Isolation is something that I've been facing my entire life, and it comes in varied forms: you're not cool, you're the new kid, you're too rich, you did something wrong, you're too intimidating, you're too weird, and you're too high up. While isolation has always been there, I have mixed feelings about it.

On one hand, isolation is something that I embrace. I enjoy being alone and doing my own thing at my own pace. My hobbies allows me to be isolated: I read, I write, and I swim. Some may argue that these hobbies require some companionship at one point, but considering how I do them, I do not need others.

On the other hand, it makes me feel rejected. Most of the time, people avoid me because they do not like me. There's something about me, my actions, my behavior, and my being that they find appaulling. They need to isolate me fast. Some people, however, do not really do it on purpose. Maybe they just feel like I'm above them, and I shouldn't be bothered. I'm too emotional, and I should be left to settle on my own. Whatever their intentions are, they make me feel rejected. I don't belong, and I feel trapped. Unwanted.

Isolation is always a part of my life, but why does it have to be there? Why do people have to reject me? Why do I enjoy it? Why am I unsure of what I think of it?

11/26/19 2:03pm

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Last night

I must've had a dream about you.

When I woke up, I have this image of you holding me in bed. I held your hand and pulled you closer.

That image was so clear in my head. Maybe it happened before when we were okay. When we were in some vague we don't know what it means but let's do it anyway stage. I can feel your body on me. I can feel your breath on my neck. My breathing slowly synced with yours. Our tips touch, and it isn't clear where our bodies touch anymore.

I guess I miss you. We haven't talked in months.

I guess I just miss being touched. It's been years. And you're the only one I trusted enough to touch me. But it's a mistake that I trusted you enough to do it. Clearly, it was a bad idea. It'll never happen again.

Now, you're just a memory.

11/17/19 11:47am