it's friday night and i'm alone in bed with no sound, no lights, no memento, no tangible presence of consolation— nothing but my own thoughts floating away and the gleaming flickers of fixtures and concoctions burrowed deep in the recess of my mind.
i notice i haven't properly written here for so long. i miss it, i think. there are plenty of things that have happened over the ensuing years, ready to be jotted down. like graduating from my dream school, my first job where i wasted a good part of my supposedly-bursting-into-bloom-young-life away on underpaid borderline slave labor, leaving the best (inarguably so, but you can try) city in the world and how different jakarta feels compared to it, embarking on a new journey of exploration and self-awareness, messy custody battle with the estranged ex over pumpkin, applying for jobs i don't think i'll ever get, meeting new people and missing those who have departed from my life or are about to. i had thought about writing them from time to time, i'd like to say i don't know if i ever have the time and/or the will to do it properly anymore, or that i simply don't have the urge to write, but maybe i just remain far too much of a perfectionist to pen them down.
it's quite hard to explain (even more so when you're especially awful at translating thoughts into concrete words) and probably sounds trivial to everyone else, but lately i've come to realize that i no longer feel the need to document my feelings into verbiage, as if i'm deliberately detaching myself from the realm of blogging. being able to spurt things into written sentences still feels therapeutic, but my mind is a constant jumbled mess— and i feel like words can no longer accurately describe even in a succinct manner how it feels to be growing up into who i am now instead of who i've always wanted to be, because the worst feeling in the world is to accept and let others recognize that you are turning into someone else you never dream of.
but here i am again. feeling a bit despondent with all the bits of things in life at the moment, especially when everything seems to be going against my better judgment. it's strange, isn't it? no matter how many times i steer away from this quiet writing space, i always find myself here. i am not displaced, maybe the world just overwhelms me sometimes. you know that sinking feeling of being slowly sucked into a quicksand pit, left unnoticed, and helplessly forced to watch everyone around you walking away, going about their lives? you can only wish you are not too far gone for a hand— any hand to plunge you down from the abyss. whenever i find myself on the cusp of an emotional collapse, i either clean, or sleep. it somewhat feels relishing to at least put everything on the surface back where it belongs, even if it's only temporary. more often than not i find myself crying to sleep, like it's the most natural thing in world. and when i'm through with that in the morning, i chastise myself for being an ungrateful wretch i am. perhaps i'm the lucky one after all, because i can still sleep at night, even if i don't want to.