(no subject)
My sister told me to come back here and start writing again. Somewhere a switch was suddenly lifted in my brain, mostly because I was accutely aware of how much love that sentence carried and it was delivered to me so nonchalantly. I remember being so passionate about constructing my emotions on the keyboard.
But I came back not to journal (the irony on this platform) like how I imagine people in therapy do. I can't muster enough willpower to break my day down or my feelings down because what is there worth writing? I am still not a master of my mental whims and very much a chronic perfectionist by habit. It's either I write down something I'd like reading looking back or don't at all.
I think I was jolted amidst my routine of working from home and daily hot girl walks that I realise so much has changed. I'm still in the same neighbourhood walking the same sidewalks from block to block but with sceneries that now feel different. It makes me wonder what the lapse of time has accumulated - despite me feeling 24 every year - what beautiful experiences I get to relish and crumble into; the people that stopped by and left. I feel their residual energy every day. I think of them every day. It's a blessing to stride alongside time like silk floating in air. I sometimes punish myself for not being on time in life and lose gratitude that it has brought me space to come to love myself. Time and time alone is such an internal healer.
But I came back not to journal (the irony on this platform) like how I imagine people in therapy do. I can't muster enough willpower to break my day down or my feelings down because what is there worth writing? I am still not a master of my mental whims and very much a chronic perfectionist by habit. It's either I write down something I'd like reading looking back or don't at all.
I think I was jolted amidst my routine of working from home and daily hot girl walks that I realise so much has changed. I'm still in the same neighbourhood walking the same sidewalks from block to block but with sceneries that now feel different. It makes me wonder what the lapse of time has accumulated - despite me feeling 24 every year - what beautiful experiences I get to relish and crumble into; the people that stopped by and left. I feel their residual energy every day. I think of them every day. It's a blessing to stride alongside time like silk floating in air. I sometimes punish myself for not being on time in life and lose gratitude that it has brought me space to come to love myself. Time and time alone is such an internal healer.