blooming-late

[blooming-late]

Hi Zachary,

I am still in the middle of a daydream of ending up with someone I couldn’t even recognize.

But he knows me well.

He speaks softly.

We talk of a lot of our niche in our car, while our Corgies in the backseat are napping comfortably.

He loves me and respects me. He will let me choose a song from his phone after letting me know of the passcode to unlock his phone.

Zach, then, I will finally, truly, go home to where I belong to.

[blooming-late]

Hi Zachary!

It has been a long time since the last time I talked to you. I kinda feel a little bit disconnected with the outer world and a little bit around my reserved-personality now. I wonder what matter we should catch up with, as I have nothing much to update.

I got promoted this year, well, a good trade to the various opportunity costs that I paid somehow.

Recently right, when I want to write, I usually write things to my boyfriend. But I have this kind of weird sense where sometimes I feel like he is a stranger, despite us not in any quarrel or fight at the moment. I feel disconnected—and I have no reason to talk to a stranger, therefore here I am.

I have the guts that both of us actually put quite a thick wall among each other and a lot of safe cushions and nets in this relationship, without any of us knowing. He and I were never put all of our bets on one another, which is fair and reasonable. I got a little bit smarter by perceiving things with action rather than empty word, Zach! I surprised myself by not budging with 90% of his persuasion through words. Though it’s a little bit troublesome to be pretentious, I did myself a good job. :)

It’s 1.50 a.m. I guess I will go to sleep now. Hope to see you Quentin! I really hope we can move from talking about my partner to another topic. I missed blabbering through various corners of my mind. I hope I delve to another hyper-fixation that is not a person soon too, sigh.

[blooming-late]

              I supposed it was a particular space in my mind.

              “I kinda don’t want to be here,” I sighed, straightening out both of my legs on the open grass, “This place sucks, and I hate seeing you with that ugly white T-shirt, Zachary.”

              “I love this color,” Zachary shrugged his shoulder, I assumed he was trying to act like he didn’t care, “I am the opposite of you, remember?”

              “Means that you have tastes and preferences that I perceived ugly.”

              “I suppose you understand that there are more than that.”

              “What else…” I frowned, kind of annoyed that this guy decided to be all-philosophical when all I wanted was to lay back and relax, “Like when you’re playing the devil's advocate?”

              “One of them, yes.”

              “You suck at it,” I scoff at him, “If I could pin all the causes of all of my bad decisions on you, I would definitely do it.”

              “Then I would be charged by atrocity-level of crime.”

              I kind of saw it coming. A similar mind had a similar way to throw the ball, “I didn’t make that load of bad decisions, asshole.”

              He giggled, “But then, admit it. This place is way better than the narrow drawer of yours, right?”

[blooming-late]

Going from a random tweet-"It is okay to disappear until you feel like yourself again,"-I stumbled upon in my Twitter's For You section last night, today I decided to temporarily revert myself from the whole world. I mean... Without anyone telling me, I understand that it was indeed pathetic to let that cheap-ass tweet drive my life decision at this time as if I lived my whole 24 years without shaping any wisdom.

I tried, but pardon my small mental capacity, it is getting overloaded from trying to make a bunch of rational decisions (that are still questionable, whether they are rational or not) for a whole week. A lot of work, yet I remember a few months ago I give myself the determination to be "more decisive". Goodness. Apparently, this "making a decision" task isn't supposed to get easier over time, huh?

Spoiling ahead, this writing is going to be total nonsense. I learned in one of the HBR podcasts yesterday that "--to make a breakthrough over a wall that made you stuck--in my case, years of writing block--is to not stop creating.", whether in the process, the article you made is trash, or if the paintings you've made are ugly. It is all in the mission to get those wheels lubricated and to get yourself unstuck and move. Lowering the standards of your work is needed as well, for our perfectionist-procrastinating friends to end their never-ending cycle of postponing their work to gather the almost-impossible "perfect resource" to achieve the ideal outcome they expected.

Anddddddd I guess I'm not going to get this post done after all since I want to move to other writings and start all over. Thank goodness this blog is as dead as a doornail.

[blooming-late]

Hi Aiden,

It’s been so long since the last time I talked with you, sorry I ditched you all these times. Hey, now that I am nearly a 24-year-old woman, it feels kind of childish to stick around my imaginary friend and still mumbles to them. But, you know, this is probably the only way that works for me to express my train of thought. Bet a lot of people will get offended by this because they told me to voice out my thoughts and my feelings to them a lot, which I never did (with honesty, duh). Since I always assume (my boyfriend hates this a lot) that communication is hard and troubling. I think of this and the other person I interact with thinks the opposite way—and the effort to align our thought which both of us can accept—is troubling. I might get hurt, they might get hurt. I usually just go along with whatever they prefer to hear—case closed. But I know it won’t do good for me in the long run so recently I’ve been trying to change this behavior of mine—be assertive. And I am totally, fully aware that being assertive means changing myself as drastically as 180 degrees since I am currently in the quadrant of passive-aggressive. So, well, Aiden, it’ll take a long time for me. For this time being, I will stick with you.

Long story short, a lot of things happened in my life recently—in the range of time that we stopped talking, actually—setbacks, progress, despairs, and new hopes, I lost a lot, and I gained a lot. It’s bizarre when I come to a realization that my life has shifted this far. I don’t know if it moves for the good or for the bad—damn, Aiden, even at this point I still have the urge to complain that I don’t know what to do with my life. The exact same thing I cried to you two years ago in that one small room of mine—after reading a rejection email of a job opening I fought for. I feel bored with life—probably the effect of me holding myself to not expecting anything. Well, it was indeed a questionable life lesson I taught myself gradually, “listen up, Alya, if you ever need to expect anything, expect for the worst.” So that’s it. That explains it all. Life becomes so boring since I don’t see anything worth beyond.

             Though Aiden, recently I have been feeding myself with story after story—book after book on what a high-performance person usually does. I’m trying to bring myself once again to the flow I lost after I burned myself out years ago. That ‘flow’, Aiden, that one time when I was in my best shape—getting straight As effortlessly, managed to concentrate on one single task for hours, even that time when I spiked the volleyball across the court and everything around me seemed to move in slow motion—that particular period when I actually love what I’m doing and able to see the meaning behind it.

I am aware that life goes through ups and downs, all these times I excuse myself to lay back, to feel enough with what I have right now, and to think ‘what am I looking for anyway?’ I have a job that pays me enough to live comfortably, a positive—supportive work environment, a compassionate boss, lot of kind and fun colleagues. I spend my day-to-day at work wholeheartedly. I wake up at 5, take the bus at 6, work till 7, and even spare my time to play RPG. And then there was one particular moment after work, I was waiting for the bus to come while recalling thoroughly what had happened to me up until this point. I felt alive. Aiden, you understand that we—all this time before this—had only been surviving. One tough year before this—was me holding myself up to stay alive—desperately seeking any reason to exist. And so I managed to crawl up to this exact point in my life, it was a big leap. As for someone who almost gave up on life, it was too much than what I asked for.

And then that exact point in my life shaped itself as a lane, and I walk on it with satisfaction.

Aiden, I thought I was doing good all by myself. I felt whole. That particular dream of mine—living alone in my own castle I earn by myself—seemed like something I could achieve at some point in my life. That old me whom I told her not to lack behind because she would get no one to depend on later in her life, slowly made her path to be able to live on her own. 

[blooming-late]

But it's okay. We're okay, Quentin. We're doing good. Right?

[blooming-late]

Hi Quentin, cutting you off won't do. As expected. I wonder if I'm actually this weak?

[blooming-late]

"You're actually a soft one, you get hurt over smallest thing, will curl up in your bed all day after going through a bad day, will feel upset over a cat video. Yet you're out there letting people hurting you and act like you've got the strongest armour on."

"Why don't you, just for once, maybe, give mercy to yourself?"

"What for, Quentin? I didn't feel any less than this."

"Quentin, maybe because I have you."

I know it's been hellish to live with me, Aiden. Can you hang on along side of me a little bit more?

[blooming-late]

Been a few years now, why do the question, “What will happen if I take my own life?” Still pops out in my head.

[blooming-late]

Everything feels like it’s at the tip of my finger and I can release it whenever I want to.

[blooming-late]

“Suddenly you’re ripped into being alive. And life is pain, and life is suffering, and life is horror, but my god you’re alive and its spectacular.”

-Joseph Campbell

[blooming-late]

Today’s kind reminder to self:

I am on my own.

[blooming-late]

“Aiden, they can burn everything but not us.

not us.”