#mawimey

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these photos exist

also will my bf mind if i tag @rcameronofficial

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blogger scammer yapper popper

I had the itch to write, so here I am. You know how most of the things I've dreamt about doing don't usually come to fruition? I think about how it’s most probably me who's the cause — because it is true, the enemy is the inner me. What are the dreams broken and left in shambles, only to be found in the chasmic archive of my life? Ah yes — to be interviewed by Ellen before she got cancelled by the almighty Dakota Johnson; then by Kimmel before he got banned by Disney for having opinions — for being a musician, or the first Asian actress, or at least Filipino, to be in the Star Wars franchise. Both spots are already taken by now, I'm afraid.

I think about the years that have gone by and what I've done on the daily. And while I understand empires aren't built in a day, I wonder — how many Romes would I have built if I wasn't a raging procrastinator with huge tendencies to daydream and not do anything about it? I think about all of the hobbies I started but never even reached the amateur level of mastering, the projects I’ve begun and hated during the process of — more so hating myself while making them, for being so incompetent and impatient.

Perhaps it is the environment I was raised in, plus the aching need to survive on the daily, that I've never really purposefully followed any of my dreams. But also this — exactly this: the need to blame something on a system. A system I was raised in but never defied, to the point that my esteem has dwindled with it — vaporized in front of my eyes — so I have to settle with being mediocre. And I forget sometimes that being mediocre can be fun, especially when you've fully embraced it. It becomes so obsolete that embracing mediocrity might even push me to be great, if that even makes any sense.

And so, I type this instead of working, because yet again I'm in daydream mode — procrastinating on things that need to be done, and maybe self-sabotaging a future that I've longed for. There's a reason people like me are obsessed with fanfiction: there's so much possibility, so much structured drama, and endless chances for disappointment without actual repercussions. Which now leads us to not being afraid to fail — such a common phrase that even I'm annoyed to see myself typing it out loud. To be cringe is to be free — and perhaps it's time for me to be.

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been a while

[james-bucky-barnackle]

I know you guys care more abt my fanfics, but here's a selfie

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One of my closest friends greeted me on ig story and its just soooo cute :(((

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Hello Reader, It's 2026, Let's be Delusional

This year, I will be delusional — extra delusional. I will be more intentional with my actions, my words, my dreams, and the steps I'm taking to get there. I will be more disciplined but forgiving, be happier, angrier, sadder, funnier, be more. This year, I will be more me.

I keep thinking about how I never know what I wanted to be, so maybe it’s better to just list down everything I want to be and then narrow them down to what comes rational. I want to make more music, I want to post more episodes on my own podcast, I want to write more, I want to start making audio recordings of my voice and try voice acting. I want to dress more like me, I want to be healthier, I want to be better. I want to actually be better. I want to read all of the books on my bookshelf before I buy anything new. I want to be more active, use more of the things I pay for, and find things to do that don't cost money. I want to be more open, more vulnerable with my friends. I want to spend more time with my family. I want to be more present with my pets. I want to continuously be a better partner for my love. I want to be more eco-conscious, I want to start paying off my debts, I want to start saving. I want to stop comparing myself to whatever other people are doing. I want to be somebody, I want to be me.

I want to drink more water, eat better, cook more, consume the right amount without being gluttonous. I want to consume more music, create more playlists, I want to be a DJ in my own home. I want to make more art, I want to be a part of the future. I want to design more, I want to create more. I want to get to know more people, be more alive with people, be more open to the concept of knowing people. I want to take up space, I want to actually — like, actually — stop caring about what other people think. I want to walk more, I want to run more, I want to commute more. I want to convert my Ubers into bus rides, into train rides, into cut rides, even if they don't make sense. I want to go to parties, to cafes, to restaurants I haven't tried. I want to be at people's weddings, at babies' baptisms, people's birthdays, anniversaries. I want to clean more, kill more roaches in the house even. I just want to be me — but better. Me — but wiser. Me — with more and better boundaries. Me — but more intentional. Me — and more excited with the prospect of life. Me — but towards the dreams I've always wanted to achieve.

I want to be in movies, I want to be in music, I want to be in conversations, I want to be a bigger version of me. I want to stop being afraid of aging, I want to love that each year I get older, I become more myself. I want to take up space. I want to live my life more because I only get to be me once, and I'll be damned if I don't give myself that.

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Typing this on my work issued laptop

I'm on my fourth job of the year! Hooray? Sike! Its honestly a new position so even I nor the person I report to, knows what the fuck I'm doing. So far, all I know is that I need to dress well and know the product, that's all. After that, my brain dwindles into a crisp and I have no idea what else to do. Well I'm only ever on my third week? So that's a valid experience. I also want to start working out, I'm getting bigger by the minute bro. Aside from that, I also wanna start writing again. I have more time in the evenings, so I'm really not stoked, but the second emotion to that. My goal is to just show up to work til I learn what the fuck there is to learn.

I mean I've been studying for the past couple of days but I'm not sure that corresponds to actually knowing stuff. It's mostly looking at catalogs and whatever the fuck I can get my eyes on.

Oh! Another thing I've realized this early on is that everyone knows almost everything, so I better shut the fuck up. Everyone talks loudly in spaces and everyone is in the know about fuck ups and even the most minute things so you know what? I'm just gonna shut the fuck up and not say a word, if I can be mysterious, however impossible that might be, I will be lol. HONESTLY LOL but whatever it takes to survive.

I'm also starting to get really depressed again, I have no idea why. Well actually, I know why but its a clusterfuck of things. Money, time, energy - the basics, you know.

I also resubscribed to chatgpt and got the plus, I know, it's crazy, I'm broke but still managed to do it - it's stupid. But I honestly just feel more secure having a robot tell me things and be at my beck and call.

I even ran this through the chat but it sounded so weird (I know! I write my blog posts then run them through the chat? I do so what? I just wanna see how else it can be written)

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brb will be hiding

In light of everything going terribly wrong in my life, I’ve decided to retreat. I’ll be consciously choosing only the trips and company I feel up for—beyond what I’d already planned two weeks ago. I’m broke, depressed, anxious, and currently in the middle of a full-blown crisis. I’m in no condition to be out socializing or pretending I’m okay.

So, I’m going to hide for a while—sit with myself, stew in my own little echo chamber. This is an unnecessary apology in advance to anyone who wants to see or talk to me. I’m not trying to be an asshole, I just really need to disappear for a bit.

It’s reached a point where I know I’m going to make mistakes, and I don’t need an audience for it—whether to cheer me on, pity me, or offer advice I didn’t ask for. I’m about to dive deeper into the mess, and for now, only this blog and my journal will bear witness.

Yes, I know how ironic that sounds.

Let this be a mess of truths: I hate my life. I hate it. Yeah, there are a few good things—a couple of friends who make it bearable, a lover, a tight-knit family. But none of that erases the fact that things feel deeply, painfully shitty.

I'm broke. And honestly, I don’t even mind being broke—if only I could just pull myself together enough to pay the bills. I don’t care about missing hangouts or skipping out on plans. I’m checked out. Maybe it’s surrender, maybe it’s something else—I can’t even tell anymore. But if this is how the rest of my year will go—me not seeing anyone, me disappearing—then so be it. I think I need it.

Maybe it’s the evil eye. Maybe it’s depression digging its heels into my brain. Either way, I’m not okay.

I have two trips planned. I have a job I’m not even sure I like. And yeah, I feel guilty admitting that—this is the second time I’ve been hired here, and it’s insane that I’m even in this position again. But I’ve hit a point where I have to do what’s best for me—or at least what feels like it could be better.

It’s a chill job, not exactly low-risk, and if we’re talking money, maybe even high reward. But I’m miserable. I know part of that is my mental health. But the rest? It’s because I genuinely have no idea what I’m doing. I'm honestly embarrassed sometimes. I know it's only been a month, but I can't help it. I want to grow, who wouldn't? But I also have this looming feeling of imposter syndrome coming along.

People keep telling me to use this time to explore other things. But what if there’s nothing else I want to do? What if the only thing I want to get paid for is the thing I can’t figure out how to make happen yet?

I’m at my wit’s end. Another looming problem is quitting this job. Because then what? Where will I go? I won’t quit until I find something else—but when will that be?

I am so fucking pissed. It’s crazy.