shortie-wonderland - Tumblr blog

[shortie-wonderland]

Roasted chicken, ginger, daikon, shiitake mushroom soup with lime, cilantro, broccoli sprouts, and rice noodles

[shortie-wonderland]

you know you're in for the tunes when you're just now realizing what the song is about after several years of listening to it...

[shortie-wonderland]

Sometimes I think I love out of spite

[shortie-wonderland]

An empty tub is considered my safe space. I wonder, for a moment, if there’s something sad behind this. A place where I can freely be dirty without dirtying anything else as this fiberglass is made to withstand and wash away the grime that I’ve created.

It’s a trusted sink for sins.

[shortie-wonderland]

i feel so blessed to have those moments of pure contentedness paired with banger music

[shortie-wonderland]

As I type this, I sit in my tub, book recently set down on the ledge after several moments of thoughtful feelings of other’s lives flipping through my mind, an ominous foreboding of tragic love awaiting in the pages soon to come.

I sip the water from my glass and watch the water in my tub press again my crossed legs as it fights but fails to move against them. I think,

This water in my hand, I can drink. The other that surrounds my body, I’d keel if I drank. Two things, of similar nature, yet of different use. And if I pour this water into the tub, it’d be overwhelmed with the dirtiness, not the other way around. Pouring drinkable water in won’t make it okay to drink… Oh how the bad consumes the good.

[shortie-wonderland]

Not the Greatest Experience

Many people hope and dream of living in a different country and getting paid to do so. You would think in one of the most prestigious programs that gives opportunities like this, I would be ecstatic... But here I am. Halfway across the world and longing for what had been back home. You might be thinking, "How ungrateful!" or, "You just haven't found your purpose yet." Perhaps both are true simultaneously. It's hard though, getting yourself out of a rut, mostly when this experience has simultaneously taken something very precious away from you in exchange for a worse situation in that respect.

There is so much I could complain about from transportation to frequent diseases, to weird-ass men to the unusually never-ending heat. However, I don't mean to sound so ungrateful. This is just my reality. Or perhaps it's my perspective of reality, and that's where the issue lies. Or maybe it's not even necessarily a perspective but my lived-in experience as I don't have control over how it's handed to me. If I get beaten down by bad experience after bad experience, it's no wonder my perspective might be tainted. It is such that these bad experiences are simply my lived-in experiences at the present moment.

I wonder so often if I'm making the most out of my time here or not. Volunteering at refuges give me such a rush in my soul, but at the same time, how much of an impact am I actually making? I want to help the education system improve even at university level (way beyond my level of expertise), but I don't know how to go about it since I am not qualified fully. Such is out of my control. So much of this experience is out of my control that I feel swept away into nothingness, into purposelessness. But I can't fully take control out of my hands either, now can I? Then how would I get anything done? I need to actively look for those opportunities within opportunities that will at least do something -- enough to make me feel like I at least tried.

The motivation comes and goes in waves when I get inspired by a friend or something I see on the internet, but then the depression hits, and I retreat once again into my cave for days at a time. Perhaps routine will help with this; I'll eat an orange every morning and do yoga and then will be in the right mindset to actively work towards some of these goals little by little. A little internet detox also hurt no one.

You know how people say it takes 21 days to start a habit? I think it's true since I don't think about him nearly as much as I did before. I still do, but it's become more neutral/logical/patient-driven. I realize time won't speed up just because I worry and heavily anticipate the future. There are things he needs to fix and things I do as well, separately. I'm still in love with him. But it's not my whole being as it was at one point -- a low point. I'm reverting to loving myself first and getting to know myself again through books and solitude. I wouldn't mind going on a date or two here, but when I tell you I can't trust a single man here, I MEAN IT! Not to sound like an "I hate men" feminist, but I have been wounded a share of times. And men around these outskirts lie all the time about having girlfriends or even WIVES! Can you believe it. Girls are for the win anways, even if I am a good deal intimidated by them.

I'm glad I can find this as an outlet. Having my first therapy session after years of not, I couldn't have been more unconvinced and dissatisfied by it. (This is rich coming from someone who just applied to a Psychology/Therapy program.) Life isn't meant to be known and no one knows you like yourself, so you really just need to do what you know that will make yourself feel better and get out of the rut.

All in all, I really do believe this isn't the place for me. However, the aggravating experience may be much needed for my growth and will honestly do me a lot of justice in the end. I just need to grit my teeth and step in the beating sun and just put some sunscreen on and call it a day.

This turned into more of a rant and less of a narrative than I was wanting, but oh well. I hope I continue to grow and get through these growing pains. I need to take it in stride and give myself grace <3 I just need to TRY.

Anways,

Bless,

M

[shortie-wonderland]

Tadaima~

Hello everyone and no one! I am back again and ready to shit post <3 The older us Gen Z's get, the more we realize we need those spaces to just let it all out and not have to perform or put our best foot forward every single time.

Bless, M

[shortie-wonderland]

See It in Us

"...Can I ask you something?"

"Sure..."

"Can I... Can I hold your hand?"

Several dates in, and this guy still asks me if he can hold my hand. Of course, I know with the way he raises his pitch, hands covering his mouth, and turning shyly away, that he's simply being the silly guy he is. I breathe a gasp between my lips as I reply, yessss... please do. I never imagined him to have caught my attention so deeply.

My memory of our first date goes as followed: anxiety-ridden, easy conversation, nonconsensual (but great) kiss, "bing-chilling" (John Cena) for 9 hours straight, drunk karaoke in the park, and almost hitting my head on the ceiling while on his shoulders. A wild time, as you could guess! It was only on our most recent date did I realize his memory of the date goes as followed: cute girl with pretty eyes, great conversation, deep mutual connection, a bit of hesitation about the kiss but I can't not kiss her now, and we're really hitting it off. It's peculiar how our perceptions, though not drastically different, are different enough.

There always seems to be a push and pull with each date. We consistently begin at 1 but end up at 100 by the end every time. It's as if each time we forget how to act around each other even if it's just a sparse moment during the duration of the date but are all over each other at the end of the night, without missing a beat. We could hang out for 11 hours straight and still glance at each other longingly just to have another 15 minutes together. Once, he ran his booty into the railing as he backed up after giving me my goodnight hug and kiss! He must have been distracted and coming down from a high after spending time with me. Now, he is sure to take a giant step towards either side to avoid the metal assailant before sending himself away.

I could go on and on accounting for all the good memories we've had thus far. It feels bittersweet writing this, knowing that we are still together and very much in "like," however, that may very well be gone by the summer's end. There were moments he rained kisses all over my exposed body. He planted kisses full of attentiveness and affection; I felt not hot but warmed by them like a winter cabin's cackling glow. He took his time as he went up and down my arms, my upper back and chest, the back of my legs, my eyelids and neck, and the palms of my hands. When we loved, he would look up to my face, his thick burly eyebrows turned upwards in concern and out of caution, as he waited for me to object to any of his doings. Ninety-nine percent of the time I didn't.

For the longest time, I was not scared of losing this guy I had only met less than a month ago, but now, after discussing a shortened future, my heart rocks with tumultuous waves of sadness. I'll have to lose all this up so soon? Who will watch nude bicyclist parades with me during the summer solstice? Who will send me spontaneous flower pictures? Who will feed me homemade fried rice in the upper east corner of the central library? I shouldn't write the ending before it has even occurred, but my heart is heavy. My soul is already grieving. I long for that person to hold my hand through life's trials. I long for that person who shyly offers their hand like he did but in the end never even thinks to let go. As we go on, perhaps he'll turn into that person. As we go on, perhaps our fingers will never touch again, but we can remember fondly the touches of each other that linger on forever.

[shortie-wonderland]

I still sleep with your pillow because it’s comforting to know you’re not totally gone still.

I’ve been watching a lot of tiktoks haha… it’s filled with relationship advice and tarot readings again. Pretty helpful, honestly. Finding people with similar things they’re dealing with.

I miss you. And I wish you were here. I imagined you again, as I laid on the bed. I put my hand over the right side of my chest. That’s where your tattoo would be on me. I reached into the empty air and put my palm to your tattooed chest. I wrapped my hand around you. Then both. Then I massaged the back of your almost-bald head because you said you’d like to be massaged there. I bring my hands down to your scruffy beard… and bring your lips to mine to kiss. That’s not all. I sneak my hands back up behind your neck and I ugly giggled before I whipped my weak ass legs around your torso and pull you into me. It was lovely… it was exactly what I wanted. It felt so natural and not like I was just some love-struck heart broken girl on her bed all alone. You keep appearing to me like this…

I forgot to mention though. There was one time you appeared, recently, in my dream. I fell asleep on the couch before finishing an episode of “You.” We were at a gathering with your country mates and maybe some mutual friends. I think at this point, we were broken up. Because I saw you across the island, friends blocking part of the view, but I saw with clarity you sitting on that stool with a blonde white (maybe Hooter’s) girl on your lap. You were laughing your ugly beautiful smile and having a good time… and I remember hanging out with your close friends and they were updating me on how you were. Said you had gotten rid of your name, even the initials, TT or TZA. And I was so… shocked. And sad for you. Because I knew how much your name meant to you. The deep meaning behind them and the pride you had wearing it… and for you to get rid of it? What did this dream mean? My friend told me to just let it pass and not analyze it… maybe she’s right. But that goes against who I am. So I analyze. And I think you must be feeling like shit and ashamed of who you are and your tendencies to the point of even throwing your name out. You didn’t feel like you deserved the name. I’m probably (hopefully) throwing this out of proportion. Maybe this dream resonates with you somehow, but maybe not to the extent of fully losing yourself (I hope). You’ll give in to your bad desires… and then what?

I was in a tornado warning today, and honestly, I just wanted it to come and hit me. I wanted to put myself in a threatening position… It would have given me an excuse to talk to you haha. But I guess God knew a natural disaster wasn’t the challenge God had in place for me. God knew I would’ve caved in (literally and metaphorically because I was trapped in a cement room with my 6 pets). I don’t know what I’m doing. Trying to figure myself out how?

I talked to my best friend from high school. She called me. She let me rant for 2 hours about the break up. And then I decided to pour out my shit with her, the problems that drew me to want to cut her off. She had no idea apparently. And she never had the feelings of hating me and being envious because she thought my life was better than hers. She never felt that way. How the fuck did I fool myself into believing that?? Ah, yes. My sister. And our “friend” who was turning everyone in the friend group against you. I’m so fucking sorry man. I let that idea eat at me since then… to learn it was all a lie. How am I supposed to respond to this? I’m happy it wasn’t real but now I’m just supposed to blame myself for even more shit? We passed the blame to the “friend” but… that’s too easy. I need more time to think through this one.

I’m lonely and I realize how much you were here for me. Took you for granted, too, huh. Realizing so many flaws in you and in me during the relationship. Not that we could necessarily stop it.. our traumas and bad relationship knowledge were ahead of it before we ever were. We showed each other these certain things in ourselves that were so detrimental and actually big deals that we needed to deal with. We can’t really blame each other. But we can’t really praise each other either. Because we needed each other to show us these things and open more doors and doors that needed to be fixed… but it also comes at a price. We took on roles of “helping step” for each other. But I don’t fucking want that to be all you are. My friend asked why I didn’t want to… well, for selfish reasons obviously. Giving you this label meant you wouldn’t get the opportunity to have the label of boyfriend. And for real… this is a time process. You can’t get the title boyfriend right now no matter what we both do. But maybe someday… just someday… if we both got there… you wouldn’t have that “stepping-stone ex” title anymore. Slate clean. To marker on that slate or not to. That is the question… for the future.

I shitpost on Tumblr because I can’t talk to you right now. I’m romanticizing you a bit… maybe just wanted that comfort because we’d talked daily for almost 2 years straight. Maybe I’m talking to a version of you that isn’t fully real. Because the real you is so stubborn and sometimes annoying… but in an endearing way. But when I remember you, lots of times I still see you that way. Even when I just imagine you. But I love you through it all anyways. I still do. Fucking crazy, huh? Why can’t I move on from you so easily? I know I HAVE to. I NEED to. But never will I be going through this process because I WANTED to leave you. Never. Like I told you, I wish I didn’t have to let you go.

[shortie-wonderland]

me after getting kicked off an overbooked delta flight 

[shortie-wonderland]

When you swipe away from the tiktok asking you to use the sound for positive news in the next week because you don’t think you deserve any good news in the next week 🚬🥴 Shit, Moe, get yourself together

[shortie-wonderland]

with someone you love, sometimes it really is just enough to know that they exist and love you and that they're out there living and doing what they need to do.

[shortie-wonderland]

It never occurred to me until just now that the Cookie Monster probably eats more than just chocolate chip cookies…

[shortie-wonderland]

The morning after the Geminid meteor shower, I woke to messages from you. The first reaction, laughed because you could hardly hold out for 24 hours. The second reaction, I cried because it gave me reassurance that I still took up all of your mind. I haven’t opened them yet still. You sent a photo that I haven’t looked at yet and then two messages. “I can’t stay away from you 🙄😭😤” and “Or can I😤.” Haha… you hardly ever seemed to use emojis these days… I know he’s been needy, but what else is there? Are you trying to persuade yourself or me that you can stay away? I feel like I can’t tell when my closest friends because they wouldn’t understand. Or they’d tell me something I already know to do… Perhaps you were trying to take back some dignity and turn the heads and make me feel nervous that you’d be fine without me. Or simply just taking back some dignity, no harm to me. Maybe you want me to see you as strong, too. Maybe you were trying to relieve stress on me or make it into some kind of challenge for us. I know I’m reading into it! But you can’t blame me. I’m trying to have no contact with you for a month because I can’t let you think you can have me back whenever you want. You deserve to be ghosted. You need to be ghosted, don’t you? To learn a lesson that you really messed up and that these things won’t be tolerated? And so you can see that I’m not weak? I can stand my ground. I hope you can stand yours, too. I hope you don’t try anything funny like keep reaching out or show off that you’ve moved on somehow. Selfishly, I do hope you fuck around with people because maybe then you’d see how none can compare to me. And then that’d be motivation for you to stop your urges and really work on something real with me. I need to think of when I talk to you again. If I do I guess… I guess I shouldn’t count on anything. Not even you holding on to me. Definitely not you working towards me. I’ll see it if I see it, simple… right? I still love you, 特玛尼. I love you. You don’t have to be so strong all the time. But you do have to put a shit ton of effort into seeing things from a different perspective. A better perspective. See what types of changes would be beneficial, even the smallest of things. The more I look at those messages, the more I think you’re trying to prove that you can do this healing process. And that you’re trying to remember how important it is. That’s what I’ll believe. I hope I can talk to you again soon. I love you. You already know that. I’ll try to go around, too, though. And if I come back to you, it’s because I want to and not because you were the only option, the only thing I knew. It was because I wanted to. I love you. I miss telling you that. I love you.

[shortie-wonderland]

The Gemini’s meteor shower was last night around 1-2am. I was scared I missed them because I didn’t know when exactly they’d be showing. I ran upstairs, zipped up in a jacket and coat, tucked my long pajama pants into my snow boots I’ve had since elementary and was on my way. I quietly opened the door, not wanting to wake the dogs. I walked around in the foggy night lit by the Christmas lights on the roof. Down the driveway I went until I was halfway to the road. I laid down with a perfect view of Orion right in front of me. It look perhaps 45 minutes of being out there. I was blessed with many glimpses of the shooting stars that were brighter than I have seen so far. There was even two shooting stars falling next to each other… fitting for the Geminid meteors. I did pray a few times during it. I prayed things would work out for us and that you would be able to heal. And I would be, too, and make myself a priority for once. I wished it so many times even unconsciously. By the end of the night, I… I was desperate to fit one more prayer in. Please, please I just want a sign that everything will be okay and that we’ll be okay. I waited for that shooting star to fall. I waited to see some sort of sign. One came. Right in the middle of Orion’s chest. As if his heart was the shooting star. It was amazing and perhaps a bit romanticized, but it just felt right. That Orion would give me this. I went to bed last night, grasping frantically for the pillow you gave me. Because it was the first night you had intentionally not messaged me because it was what we decided together. I cried, of course. But I also talked to “you.” Pretended you were with me and listening like you always did. I’ve been feeling relieved a good hit, too, recently. I knew this was what was best for our relationship. But I still imagine you. Maybe even moreso because we’re separated because I can finally let myself live out these fantasies with no worry that I’m taking it too far. It I’m just doing what I want at this point. Before the stars, I had looked myself dead in the mirror of the bathroom for minutes straight. I looked… hurt. Red sagging eyes, drooping mouth, tear-stained cheeks. And then, I let myself imagine deeply for the very first time. As I look at my wreck of a self in the mirror, I imagine you behind me. Tall, obviously compared to me. And hugging me. Your somewhat bald head, your messy beard, your beautiful lips. Your skinny but strong arms around me. I felt it. I felt it, really. And then, I look to the Carmel wood door to my left and imagine you again. I try to gage your height, starting from your tattoo I always called mine. And worked up to your shoulders. Then down to your… you know. And then… to your face. I cupped that door like it was the face I’ve been dying to hold for so long. I didn’t want to let go. I stood there forever. I went back to the mirror. The more I looked, the more I accepted myself. I combed my hair, massaged my face, and faced my reality. I realized it was okay for me to still love you and keep these feelings alive for however long I want. You’re wrong, thinking as more time goes on, the more I’ll dislike you. As more time goes on, I see the real you. The you that fucked up and didn’t do everything right and that left me in unfair positions. But I forgive you, and I’m still holding faith that you’d realize it over time that you need to be better for me for us to be together again. I hope you don’t hate me because I’m trying to keep distance. I hope you don’t close off or try to rebound. But I do not control what you do, and I must simply let the stars fall into place. I fell asleep hugging your pillow.

[shortie-wonderland]

Self love