it be like that sometimes

A few hours ahead of midnight, right before the ticking clock brings in the new year, I sit back and contemplate the course my life has taken over these last few months.

I feel like I've lost a part of myself––a part that I can never get back. I'm not sure what I'm searching for, or what I've even lost, but this feeling of missing overwhelms me to the point where I find it hard to breathe.

I don't think this year will bring me miracles. At least not ones I'm hoping for. And that's okay.

I've made my peace with going slow.


Resurrecting this blog five years later, it occurs to me that although I call myself a writer, I am really quite shit at articulating my feelings. I still remember the first piece I published on this website. It was grandiosely titled 'Why Twilight Is The Worst Book Ever'. I wrote it in the form of bullet points––a mistake that would continue to plague me the rest of my high school career. 

Like most people who blogged in 2013, I have since gone on to write better things, things that I might even say I'm proud of. I must admit, however, that there is still a small part of me that wishes I'd been brave enough to preserve my life the way it had been before. 

2018 has not been very kind to me. I remember believing for a long time that the sadness would never go away––that maybe this was it, this was all I was going to get. But writing this now, looking back at all these versions of me that the world has seen, all these identities I have created for myself, I hope that somed…