AkImA No NiKkI

First actual update since 2020 started. Spoilers, it's shit. The world has gone apocalyptic, just like I always thought it would someday, and humanity is both fucked and blessed. For one, Earth gets a clean-up on parasites, which is nice. For two, exposure of how rotten humanity can go CAN surprise you no matter how bad you thought it would be.  And surprise, surprise, Twitter is bad for my mental health. Who else is not surprised?  I consider myself having a good grip on my anger considering I managed to realize the issue at a young age and subsequently, consciously, make an effort to curb it. But Twitter is making me re-evaluate that bar and by the end of this term, I either deactivate my accounts and never look at it ever again or I set a higher, stronger grip on my anger management.  Either way, shit is rolling whether I like it or not. Maybe it was cowardly that I would choose ignorance to the world to preserve my sanity, but I never proclaimed myself a knigh...

There are times when I feel grief over losing Beloved. I know it's just empty grief. A feeling of loss over the idealized version of them. Feelings of betrayal over what had happened that ended with waves of emptiness. When I have no words to portray these, knowing some people would take it as "I'm not yet moving on" or "It's been forever, get over it" or "this is a new level of pathetic", I keep the grief to myself. Coming from strangers wouldn't have done anything, but I don't know what I would've done had it came from someone I trusted to be there for me -someone I thought who would hold me. Because it's not like that.  I have  moved on. I don't stay up nights wishing with all the hope in my heart they would come back to me. I don't cry myself for hours in showers, reminiscing all that I should've done and could've done. I can say their name and remember their face with a smile on my lips, knowing they ...

The part of me that wishes to see the future is slowly, slowly, being rekindled. Like a dying ember on a dry coal that's been covered by a damp moss after rainy season. Dissociation is still strong, even after the whole disaster of me unsuccessfully killing myself again for the fourth time. So is my apathy. It's a chance-circle shooting game up in here, hour after hour. I find myself zoning out, unable to return to my head. I find myself unable to empathize with my friends, despite knowing I should if I want to keep them around.  With dissociation, I can't find the controls in my head to flick on the empathy switch. I'm not in there. Nothing is. I'd find my body sitting upright on the bed, staring at a spot for hours. It heavily reminded me of highschool nights, minus the blank spots in my memories. I'm a little okay now, with my broken heart. I'm healing.  It's still a bitch most days, and I know I've totally become that edgy emo sad bitch ...

I am currently at sis's place in Tg.Malim, Perak. Waiting for the day my usefulness runs out and I return home to Kelantan only to be a burdensome freeloader. I've just finished the 6th semester, and starting February, a friend and I will be carrying out our practicum at SMK Seksyen 7 in Shah Alam for nearly 4 months. We have scouted a rent house and expected to deal a contract duration to move in around January until the end of practicum. I have moved out of the apartment I lived in during 6th semester a week ago. I've not taken my meds for a 3 weeks. I spent Christmas holidays with Mya and Indah, and it was the only relief of the whole year. It is now 2019. Nothing is different. I am dissociating, that much is obvious. I have begun to feel distaste for interaction other than necessary, yet knowing if I do not get them done, I will be alone. Help will not come. There are words stuck in my throat, unable to come out. Emotions I swallow along with them and burn at ...

Last weekends, I went home, to make my passport. Because I have no class on Fridays till Mondays, that makes my weekends 4 days long a week, so I feel very blessed. Despite having these long days of weekends, I don't necessarily go home often, because it takes me half a day by travel alone and it's a waste of money if I have nothing important to resolve back home. I went back last weekends because I need the passport to cross the borders to Thailand, since I will be tagging along with my clan having a holiday in Hatnyai. Hopefully it won't be boring because sis isn't going thus I won't have anyone to socialize with. Moving on to the thought at hand, on the morning of my departure to the bus station from home back to college, I was given an impromptu lecture from mom and dad as we were having breakfast. I know, I know. By now I should have been expert at washing off their words over me and learn not to take them at face value, but they caught me off guard that m...

Cohabitation with other people who aren't your family is strange. I mean, naturally, right? That much is obvious. But I don't know how to describe it. It's not like it's giving me problems, or discomfort. Rather, each of us are just living at our own pace while sharing a place. Knowing the bare minimum about each other, and communicating when purely necessary. Occasionally, we get irked by each other's habits, though showing no verbal distaste of it for the sake of keeping the peace, we get by. Even using "we" somehow feels like a unnatural context, because we are strangers sharing a space. It made me think how awesome it'd be to have my own place, living alone. I usually don't cook, but when I was living on campus, it was a violation. Somehow living here still feels like I'm on campus, without the HEP bullshit. I still don't cook, two of my other housemates do (probably because they're the ones who lived here first and are u...