Does anyone else struggle to write fic for Parks and Rec? I struggle because that show is literal perfection!
Does anyone else struggle to write fic for Parks and Rec? I struggle because that show is literal perfection!
Sometimes I wish i can describe how I feel.
Sometimes I wish I knew how to align my feelings and thoughts to break down whats causing this feeling of uncertainty.
Sometimes I wish someone anyone can just understand me for once, comfort me just at the right level of comfort I crave.
I wish I knew where to go next
I wish I had the answers to all my questions, which sounds unreal.
Sometimes the pain goes deeper then
But How do you stop the pain that rushes down your blood
how do you block the dark cloudy clouds from creeping up
Little things , I just want to be understood, heard out, acknowledged.
Why am I always misunderstood,
Why am I always the blame for feeling the way I do
All I want is clear skies, clear mind, clear views.
What is it that I’m doing wrong?
“the tighter the grip the further it goes”
Ya girl is struggling. Today was hard. I am realizing that the season I am coming out of is meant to be one that I never go back to. I was convinced that my goodbye to the place and people that have seen me the most during these uncertain times would only be short lived. I told myself that I was taking a break. And during this break, I have been in the mist of deeply mourning my goodbye. But today I was given a sign as to why I had to leave and why I can’t go back. Life has this way of making me feel seen and hugged but other times it seems like I’m left in the dark. I am sad, heartbroken, confused, and content. This is hard. Today was hard. And now I feel like moving forward is all I can do. Friends, I am scared and frankly, not okay. But I am thankful and I am accepting the closing of this chapter of life. When I sit back and think about my story, I can’t help but fall still. I am starting to learn that I don’t write it myself, and thank goodness for that. Life is such a rollercoaster friend, I am holding your hand tight on this ride.
might sound really
but I truly believe
that the secret of life
that everything is better
if you just deep fry it
like potatoes or
or your own heart
that if something
has just the right amount
everything is better
my favourite food
but it always has been
like when I was a kid
all i would eat was cheese
like how could I not
more than ice cold water
when lunch sometimes was
a single tomatoe
how could I not
love everything gold
when all I used to eat was
Refuse to fall down
If you cannot refuse to fall down,
refuse to stay down.
If you cannot refuse to stay down,
lift your heart toward heaven,
and like a hungry beggar,
ask that it be filled.
You may be pushed down.
You may be kept from rising.
But no one can keep you from lifting your heart
It is in the middle of misery
that so much becomes clear.
The one who says nothing good
came of this,
is not yet listening.
— Clarissa Pinkola Estés, “A Prayer” in The Faithful Gardener: A Wise Tale About That Which Can Never Die (Published October 27th 1995 by HarperOne, first published January 1st 1992)
have you been doing well lately? i hope so at least. after i’ve met you, i started wondering again.
about you. if you’ve been okay back then. if you’re okay now. and how it could have been different.
i started to play with the thought of liking you, again.
and then i met you again a short while after due to unexpected circumstances. the idea of reaching out to you came back into my mind. could it be different this time? was meeting you a sign?
but then i realized why we stopped talking. because we weren’t on the same page. because we weren’t feeling and wanting the same thing. and because that hit you way harder than me. it is not fair. it was not fair. it has never been fair, at any point of the story.
was it all my fault? was I wrong all the time?
i don’t hope so.
but i hope, that at some point we’ll be able to treat eachother well, just like good friends do.
if i think about it, i missed you. but reaching out and confusing you just because of this feeling isn’t right. and you know that, too.
- 27/10/20 1:32 pm
So this is how my day went. Again.
(what is this hand)
Anyway here’s a drawing of me struggling with digital art.
I’ve always viewed myself as a really emotional person. It’s never taken much to hurt my feelings, to scare me, to concern me. I’ve always wished that weren’t true. I’ve always wished I could be cool, calm and collected all the time but that just isn’t who I am. I can sort of maintain composure in front of other people, but I remember being in eighth grade and going to the bathroom to cry. I’ve made it through funerals and weddings without anyone seeing me cry despite my high emotions only to fall apart the second I’m alone. For whatever reason, I’ve always had this really intense desire to avoid crying or expressing anxiety in front of others. There is this voice in my head that just says “you CANNOT cry right now.” if I get upset in front of people. It just doesn’t seem like an option, period.
From the beginning of our relationship @04-dezember-13 has been an exception to the rule. I let her see me emotional. I don’t know what it is, but when I’m emotional she just does something magic everytime I’m on literal ground zero. She‘s like a candle in the darkness that glows up to show me the way. She’s just so uplifting even though she has her struggles too. I absolutely adore her and I couldn’t thank her enough for being her.
Currently I’m not the best boyfriend she could have, I’m creating problems out of things that never been a problem before nor did those problems exist. I’m emotional about stuff that doesn’t really make sense. I‘m most definitely being unbelievably concerned about everything. I need to step back and let her be herself again, not making her day harder than it already is. I wish I would be the person she needs right now, I wish I would be more composed. I’m trying so hard to not mess up. I hope she’s giving me a chance. I’m learning, i’m willing to learn, willing to better myself not only for me but for her so I can be that person again.
There’s more! + floating Beanbag
Me trying to come up with a quirky cute “about me” for my blog and failing
whiskey makes the heart beat faster
but it sure doesn’t help the
mind and isn’t it funny how you can ache just
from the deadly drone of
- Charles Bukowski, The People Look Like Flowers at Last
Today… has been a very strange day. I come from a family that I isn’t very big on emotions and feelings and because of this, I am not the closest with most of my family, extended included. But recently I have found myself posting a lot on social media about the struggles of dealing with poor mental health and living with severe anxiety and depression. I don’t know why, I just feel like it was needed. Today, I had two of my extended family members, who I have no spoken to in months, reach out to me to show their support about my struggles with my mental health. I guess the universe is trying to show me that even though it doesn’t feel like I have much of a support system within my family, it is there.
I guess my point here is, the universe works in weird and mysterious ways. And most of the time, she is only trying to help us.
I need to express the level of social dysphoria I’m feeling and have been feeling for a few months.
I have been struggling to in a way find my place with being a man and what kind of man I am. I’m not struggling with the patriarchy and falling into that destructive mind set.
I know I’m a man but where does someone like me fit in with men. How can I connect with men when I never have before? How do I find male friends that don’t fit that stereotypical patriarchy mentality?
I have struggled with those questions and being enough. Struggling with feeling like I’m some sort of disgusting thing no one would ever want to touch…. it hurts to not feel wanted…. even in a past relationship… I have just been struggling with all of this for a while and its taking its toll.
The only time I have ever been sufficiently hydrated is in the two months before COVID. I always forget to drink water, and have frequently found myself almost passing out in public spaces because I haven’t consumed enough liquid. It fucking sucks. But I can’t carry water bottles around with me, because I always fucking forget about them and lose them. So anyways I’m browsing through my local Goodwill because I’m bored as shit and need some cheap stuff, and that’s when I see it. A minion water bottle. As bright yellow as the bananas their race is known to heroically quest for, rich coffee-brown eyes peering cherubically through the lenses of his goggles. His hair parted charmingly to both sides in a middle part, giving the impression that he had combed his hair to impress a member of his race he wished to procreate with, but tragically decided to go with a decidedly out of fashion style from a century earlier, only adding to his charm. His mouth curved into a lopsided, mischievous grin. Attached is an image. It was Love at First Sight. From the moment I walked out of that store, stumbling over a small crack in the sidewalk like an utter buffoon and freezing my ass off in the winter cold, I knew we would never part. Ever since that day, up until COVID, everywhere I went, He went too. He stayed full of (plastic-tainted) water, and I stayed hydrated. It was the perfect system. Everywhere I went, I had the clout of being that one person walking around cradling a minion water bottle at their side, and He kept me healthy. Not only that, but He was so noticeable, that I almost always remembered to take him with me, and the one or two times I forgot him, he was so iconic that he was always returned to me in due time, the people who found my sweet minion likely fearing my wrath if I discovered They were the ones strutting around with my lost Son. For a while, everything was good.
Then, Disaster struck. The PANDEMIC. Suddenly, I was confined to my home for months at a time, and my sweet Prince was relegated to a spot in the back of the pantry, slowly gathering dust for eternity. And even now, when we are allowed to go out in public (which i don’t in the first place), we must wear masks, and taking them off for things such as wrapping your lips around your minion water bottle’s sturdy blue straw and taking a few gulps of the musty, plastic-infused nectar of life held within is frowned upon, so on the shelf he sits. Waiting. Wasting away, in the hope that some day, some time, he and I can be reunited again, and walk the streets without fear, making new friends (people who compliment my water bottle) and enemies (people who are jealous that I have such a cool water bottle and covet it for themselves) alike.
This is the Tragedy of the Minion Water Bottle.
Thank you for listening to my story.
“Sometimes to love someone you’ve gotta be a stranger”
Blade Runner 2049
A man pushes against police officers during an anti-government protest, in Bangkok, Thailand October 16, 2020.
Κάθε μια από αυτές τις λεπτομέρειες και τις δυσκολίες, τονίζει την τεράστια αθλιότητα του ανθρώπινου ζώου. Ρωτάς: «Μην τα παίρνεις όλα τόσο τραγικά! Αισθάνεσαι πως είσαι εσύ υπεύθυνος για όλα τα κακά του κόσμου;»
Με τέτοιες κουβέντες δικάζεις τον εαυτό σου. Αν εσύ, ανθρωπάκο, ο ένας μέσα στο εκατομμύριο, αναλάμβανες έστω και ένα μόριο από την ευθύνη που σου αναλογεί, ο κόσμος θα ήταν διαφορετικός. Και οι μεγάλοι φίλοι σου δε θα πέθαιναν εξαιτίας της μικρότητας σου.
Γι’ αυτό το λόγο, το σπίτι σου εξακολουθεί να είναι χτισμένο στην άμμο. Το ταβάνι πέφτει και σε πλακώνει, αλλά εσύ έχεις μια «εθνική τιμή»…
Άκου ανθρωπάκο | Βίλχελμ Ράιχ
One can feel free while having a conversation with oneself.
Nobody understands you more than you. Nobody understands me more than me. And that’s a good thing. So why don’t we have conversations with ourselves more often? I wonder.
Once, I opened up a bottle of wine and had a very pleasing conversation with myself. At the time I wasn’t feeling very good, it was quite the contrary. I felt something important was missing, I felt empty. Every aspect of my life was in “order”, you know… things were going fine, I was doing fine. Friends, partner, and family. So, what was it?
Having the glass of winer resting on my desk, I asked myself what was really going on. To my surprise, I was a very opened companion. Everything I said was important to me, so I was a very good listener too. I could grasp a little of what really was going on with me at the moment because I forced myself to think about it and find a solution. And it turned out to be that I was missing myself. I missed myself so fucking much. I had never had such an incredibly new emotion, and I’m 22 years old.
I believe that the best way to think is to ask questions. By asking questions, our curiosity is awaken. That’s it, that’s what I believe “smart thinking” really is.
You don’t have to be Einstein in order to think better. It all starts with a question that comes to show you how little you know, but also how desperately you want to know. But it does not stop there, you ought to seat with the question and try to find answers, and most people hate this process because it takes a effort to think.
I figured that I missed myself because I had recently became friends with myself. I used to treat myself like shit for a very long time, and then something changed. I cared about me, I started to do things I like FOR ME, even when I wasn’t in the mood to do them, I knew: “my future self will love me for this” and the future self did but also the present self loved it too. I was holding my own hand while struggling with life and I’ve never felt happier. There are beautiful, invaluable concepts in life that we can only understand through our relationships with others. Things as necessary as oxygen if we are to live in society as free (and loving) individuals, but knowing this… we must know there are other things and concepts, equally important and those can be known only by our dedication, attention, and of course, love for ourselves.
If you are struggling in either aspect of those needed relationships (yourself, or others) then you will probably struggle in the other field too.
Take care of you. If you can’t tell yourself the truth, you will never know the joy of truly, truly loving others. If you can’t work on your own flaws, then how do you expect to understand the flaws of others? How can you be patient if you do not practice patience with yourself first? That’s the hardest kind of patience to master, so being patient with others comes rather easily after that.
Remember: we are individuals, and in some aspects we are individuals by mirroring others. Be a good mirror.