#hazelmaple

[hazelmaple]

When you're on a Ferris wheel all anyone ever talks about is being on the Ferris wheel and the view from the Ferris wheel and whether the Ferris wheel is scary and how many more times it will go around. Dating is like that. Nobody who's doing it ever talks about anything else. I have no interest in dating.

–John Green, Turtles All the Way Down

[hazelmaple]

I tried my hardest–my bestest, but whatever I do, I just don't succeed in certain things.

Am I dumb? Stupid? What did I do wrong to receive such disappointing events? I study day and night. Take notes every day. Organize everything. Still, I can't achieve my goal.

My old self was better. Where is that girl? I miss her. How do I bring her back? She was motivated. She was optimistic. She was shining. But now, I am nothing. Doesn't have any motivation or inspiration. I turned pessimistic. My light is dimming.

how i wish i can get to bring her back

–hazelmaple

[hazelmaple]

Help.

Entry #4

Hopelessness. A word that probably sums up my situation right now. 

Lately these days, the sparks of ideas that I have has gone out. I was once a ball of sunshine, but now, I’m just a worn-out bulb. I’ve lost in touch with myself. I’m starting to be a stranger to yours truly. I’m beginning to be blinded to what I love, what my talents are, and who I am.

I see those other people that have already found themselves. They are completely in sync with who they really are. It’s like they discovered their calling. I see them good at what they love. How I wish I am also! 

With the determination to find out what I really love, I tried the things I once adored—art and music. I know I can still regain my sight of who I am.

Art. I am good at it—I know it. I love how I drew memories—the ones that cannot be erased. I love how I painted colors in my heart—the ones that cannot be replaced. I am tranced in how art is like us that is being free from all of the world’s heaviness.

Yesterday, I attempted to do some art. Yearning for its color. I am hoping to turn my feelings into a masterpiece. After a long process of work, I completed it. As soon as I finished my so-called ‘masterpiece’, I looked at it. It was different. I don’t recognize the styles that I used. I cannot see myself into it, not like my other arts from the past. My art is empty.

Desperate to find out what I really love, I tried music. I am good at writing songs. Music is my forever comfort or so I thought. I strummed my guitar—yearning for its comfort. I am satisfied to hear its tunes. I began to put some words to the tune I just created, but I was stuck. I don’t know what to say or to create. What story should I produce? It was once my escape as it silenced my worries. I cannot find inspiration. I tried playing the piano, yearning for its help for me to write some lyrics. I began writing but as soon as I am finished, my lyrics were all around. It doesn’t make sense. I don’t get it. I don’t identify my music.

After many attempts, I just lost it. I lost my own shadow, and I don’t know where it did go. I give up. I don’t know how to be one with myself. I don't know ho to seek what ignites my soul on fire.

Who am I?

—hazelmaple

[hazelmaple]

"Does he make you see the stars? Does he call you his northern star?"

Unknown

–fave quote #2 // h.m.

[hazelmaple]

“SHE”

She tells others to be their own selves. She advises them to be more confident and love their flaws and imperfections. Yet, she, herself, can’t apply what she says to others. Her words mean nothing because her actions contradict. “I am going to be more real. I will love myself,” she says, but later on, she looks at the mirror and curses herself for not being pretty enough.

She is a lifeguard, rescuing people in their pool of self-doubt. Unfortunately, she isn’t a lifeguard in herself for she keeps on drowning in her own sea of insecurities. She can’t save herself. No one can.  

—hazelmaple

[hazelmaple]

I saw her again. Her eyes were sparkling. Everyone loves her. How does she do it? She’s amazing. She can do everything—she is everything. 

Compared to me, I am a nobody. No one wants to hang out with me. I am quiet and she’s not. No one appreciates my comfortable silence. They want her—always her. When is the time that I will find someone who would want me because I am me? Should I also start doing art like she does? Should I start doing cute poses and upload it on social media? Should I also start a squad where everyone becomes my followers? 

My insecurities are starting to eat me alive. I hate this feeling.  —hazelmaple

[hazelmaple]

feels like I’m with nature—listen

[hazelmaple]

Right now, I'm in school, in the classroom specifically. As I sit inside this four cornered room, I am slowly suffocating. I want out. I don't want to be here. This is a nightmare. Everyone here with me are monsters dressed like friends that you can lean to.

They go saying "I am your friend" "You can always trust me" "I'll always be there when you need me" "You can trust me"

In the end they'll always leave you. You are always the one to be alone, sitting in the corner, overthinking until you drown in your own thoughts.

Get me out of here. Please. I'm begging you.

–hazelmaple