unstableme

[unstableme]

It hurts to realize that a naked soul holds less value than an exposed body. It hurts to see how the sensitive silence of a sincere outpouring is ignored — while empty screams for attention become entertainment. We live in a system that profits from superficiality and rejects depth. A system that rewards those who fake pleasure... but punishes those brave enough to reveal their pain.

— Phoenix Moon 333

[unstableme]

Current mood

— Echoes Of The Infinite, "One Home."

[unstableme]

This shall go onto my 'hear me out' list

“nothing tastes as good as skinny feels”

damn you must suck at cooking. check out some youtube tutorials man. i believe in you.

[unstableme]

WELCOME TO THE MESS

display name: glitchedfemmefatale.exe™

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

💿 fandoms:

♢ Grand Theft Auto

♢ Black Lagoon

♢ Cyanide & Happiness

♢ plus whatever else breaks my brain

🎭 personality:

♢ chronic brainrot

♢ ghosted my therapist

♢ legally alive, emotionally questionable

♢ probably fictional

🎮 hobbies:

♢ digital vandalism

♢ drawing unhinged stuff

♢ disappearing mid-convo

♢ chaotic vibes only

📌 rules:

♢ no weird asks

♢ no reposts

♢ npc behaviour? rot.

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

[unstableme]

[unstableme]

The Art of Understanding

Yesterday, after so many years, I experienced something i didn't even realize I'd been craving. The feeling of being seen

It caught me completely off guard. I was texting and venting to Shweta like we usually do—just letting things out without expecting anything profound in return. And then she replied:

"Aneeta… you are hurt."

That was it. Just those words. But they hit me like a punch to the chest. No dramatic lead-up, no big therapy sessions—just someone naming what I was too tired to articulate

And I broke.

Tears came rushing down my face out of nowhere. No buildup, no warning. Just an instant flood. I could feel them slide down to my lips, could taste that salt. My eyes stayed locked on that message. Frozen. Soulless. Stuck.

Minutes passed and when i finally came back to myself, I realized my face was soaked. Tears everywhere. And my first reaction?

Panic.

I scrambled to wipe them off. Rubbing my cheeks, dabbing my eyes, rushing to erase any proof that I'd just been that vulnerable—even tho I was alone in the room. Because deep down, the idea of being seen like that, even by myself, made me uncomfortable. It felt... shameful. Like I had to clean it up before anyone could witness it. As if crying somehow made me weak

I kept wiping, hoping the tears had stopped

Spoiler: they hadn't. Not even close

*****************************************************

There's something terrifying about being seen—really seen—for all the pain you carry and hide behind sarcasm, routine texts, and tired smiles. But there's also something deeply healing about it

The feeling of being seen

The feeling of being listened to

The rare, quiet art of being understood

And the strange, unfamiliar calm that follows

[unstableme]

I'm genuinely happy to see that more and more people are beginning to understand the concept of the male gaze—and how almost everything we see online is deeply rooted init

Lately, I've also come to understand why I dress the way I do. The so-called "normal" standards for women's clothing are often shaped by the male gaze. These norms were never really designed with our comfort or authenticity in mind—they were built around what men find appealing. The realisation helped me make sense of the inner conflict I've always felt when it came to how I dressed

I wasn't confused about my sexuality. I wasn't trying to be different for the sake of it. I was simply rejecting a framework that didn't serve me. What I was unknowingly searching for was the female gaze—a way of dressing and presenting myself that felt aligned with my perspective, not someone else's idea of what I should look like

Men are often allowed to dress according to their needs, comfort and lifestyle. But women have been conditioned—especially through media and online trends—to conform to what is visually pleasing from a male point of view. And when your choices don't fit that mould, you're made to feel out of place or "wrong"

Of course, there are women who genuinely enjoy and feel empowered dressing in ways that align with the male gaze—and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. Expression is deeply personal. What matters is that the choice comes from a place of autonomy, not pressure or expectations

At the end of the day, it's about reclaiming the right to choose what feels true to you

This was just my personal reflection, not a critique of anyone's choices. We all deserve the freedom to express ourselves in whatever way feels true

[unstableme]

The rise of nonchalance is nothing

but the death of passion

[unstableme]

I think I've become the...

female embodiment of a stereotypical male

You know how men are expected—almost conditioned—to be less emotional, more logical? To move through life with a kind of detachment, untouched, unfazed? That’s me now. And honestly? I think this is who I was meant to be

I’ve mastered emotional regulation. I am indestructible. Nothing can break me because I have my back. No waiting on anyone’s undiagnosed son to figure out how to be a decent human being—HAHA, never again.

Romantic attraction? Nonexistent

Internally—silently—I warn myself. Not because I’m scared of love. Not because I don’t believe in it. But because my subconscious won’t even let me entertain the idea. It remembers last time

It remembers him

And now? I have neither the interest nor the patience to relive that nonsense.

If I have to spend my life alone, so be it. At least I’ll be free. At least I’ll still have myself. I’d rather be whole on my own than half of something that drains me

---

But what even is a relationship? (Monogamous, of course)

A structured way to access companionship and sex while staying inside the lines of social acceptability? Alright. But let’s talk about those lines for a second—

Loyal to ONE

Look up to ONE

Take care of ONE

Meet the expectations of ONE

Look after ONE

All of it. With the same person. Forever

But what if I don’t need that?

What if I already have deep, fulfilling friendships?

What if I am unshaken in my solitude?

What if sex and romance genuinely doesn’t add value to my life right now

Then what is a relationship supposed to give me?

If the answer is nothing, then why the hell should I want one?

---

No, this isn’t a defense mechanism. I’m not scared of love. I don’t lack the courage to try—even knowing it could eventually break me

But I’ve come to understand something

There is no such thing as “the one”

We just alter ourselves, shift, adjust—squeeze into spaces that were never shaped for us, just to make the puzzle fit

And I? I refuse

(Referring to my last relationship, which was both emotionally and verbally abusive)

I’ve seen the pattern. I understand the reality. And the moment I gain enough clarity and strength—

I WILL LEAVE the relationship. And honestly, i think that can count as a superpower. Because I've seen many operating under the false illusion of hope. It's something I've done myself :)

---

[unstableme]

—And when I say this, I don’t know how many of y’all will agree

Freedom is a burden. It’s a responsibility—one we’re never really taught to carry.

We’re told freedom is the peak of human experience, the ultimate goal. But let me tell you something—it’s a facade. A delusion. The idea that true freedom equals power? That’s the lie

Because there comes a certain point in life (for some) when you actually have that freedom. No rules, no constraints, nothing holding you back. And it’s only when you look back, years later, that you realize—freedom was never liberation. It was responsibility in disguise

Think about it. You get home at a certain time, even when you don’t want to—why? Because your parents told you to. But what happens when there’s no one telling you what to do? No curfew, no expectations, no external force keeping you in check?

Some might say self-control. But where does that self-control even come from?

It’s not just some innate virtue—it’s shaped by something. Religion. Family. Society. Even your own ego—the way you want to be seen, the image you’ve built of yourself. That’s not freedom. That’s conditioning

True freedom? It’s when you strip all of that away. When you detach from your own beliefs, from expectations, from the need to be anything at all. And when that moment comes—when there’s nothing left tethering you to the world as you knew it—what’s stopping you? Nothing

And that’s the paradox. Because when nothing is stopping you, when there’s no reason to do or not do, what are you left with? Blankness. The abyss. Freedom is nothingness. And when you build something out of nothing, when there’s no one else to blame, no rules to fall back on—who’s accountable? You

Now, when it comes to how people process life, I think there are only four types:

i. The ones who’ve been through it, learned from it, and gained wisdom. Experience shaped them, and they actually grew from it

ii. The ones who’ve never been through anything life-altering. No deep scars, no existential reckoning—just floating through

iii. The ones who’ve been through absolute hell but refuse to learn a damn thing. The ones who keep making the same mistakes, refusing to be self-aware. (These people? They drive me crazy)

iv. And my personal favorite—the ones who haven’t been through it but still get it. The ones who extract wisdom from experiences they’ve never had, who understand things beyond their own life. Call them empaths, call them old souls—whatever it is, they just know

at the end of the day, freedom isn’t what we think it is. It’s not power. It’s not peace. It’s the weight of having nothing to hold you back—except yourself

[unstableme]

15/1/2025

She stood there

With a mighty stare.

A bright face, a shy smile

Her eyes held a world untold,

Mirroring mine in depths of gold.

The kinda woman I'd write poetry for

-unrequited resonance

[unstableme]

"Know all the theories, master all the techniques, but as you touch a human soul be just another human soul"

-Carl Jung

[unstableme]

"DARLING, DEAREST, DEAD."

I randomly came across this sentence on a Tumblr post. I don't know where it came from, whether it's from a book, a movie, or a song. I googled it and it's a series of dedications in a book. I don't know the context in which the writer used it, but I do know that the words darling, dearest, and dead in the same sentence are haunting. I haven't been able to get it out of my head since I read it. You love someone, you cherish someone, you care for them and then they die. You're heartbroken, and these can be the words your heart cries out, but this sounds like a linear story. Doesn't it?

Do we love people and then cry when they die? No. We take people for granted and then cry. We disrespect them and then cry. We make them feel unworthy and then regret it. Most of our tears are less grief and more regret.

"I wish I would have talked to them nicely."

"I wish I had resolved the misunderstandings already ."

"I wish I could go back in time and fix everything ."

"I wish I had been a better person to them."

"I wish I could take back those words."

"I wish, I wish, I wish."

But that doesn't change anything and you carry your regret and grief forward in your life, the regret being so heavy that it often makes your life miserable.

The reasons why things happen, whether small and petty or large and significant, don’t matter as much as the fact that death is larger than any of them. It's greater and heavier than any of the stones you have to turn to make things better.

I often think about people who go out of their way to harm me in various ways, to be rude to me, to demean me, to assassinate my character in any way they can. I wonder about what they will be thinking if I die today. Will their regret haunt them? Will their life be miserable? Will they live as happily as they do now? Will they be at peace with the harm they have done? Would they want to turn back time and wish for one more chance? I hope they do, but more than that, I hope they could be good to me while I am alive.

So, it turns out that people in your life might also be waiting for you to take the first step. Don't wait for them to do that. Maybe they are not courageous enough, maybe they are afraid of your reactions, maybe there are other reasons but what you do is in your control. Take the first step: be the bigger person, which I know can be very difficult, but it can save you and them from a lot of pain. Do it for yourself.

"David Mamet said, 'We regret the things we did not do more than the things we did.'” You would not want to drown yourself in that kind of regret.

They're still alive, you still have a chance.

Remember, Death is not the prerequisite to love. Do not wait for them to die to love them.

[unstableme]

Well I failed to spot a remarkable difference between Tumblr and Twitter