I showed my dad something I made; it's this sock monkey that has its legs around a small white dish; it is meant to hold coins and some random small miscellaneous items. Um, it made me really happy when my dad thought it was really cool. Honestly, I really needed that sense of accomplishment and gratification; lately, I've been feeling like such a failure. I don't know why, but I just do. I'm glad that my dad can love me for just being myself. He doesn't measure me based on merit; he loves me intrinsically. That's all I really want from people. 

  Somedays, I can't help but just be pessimistic. Actually, that is a little bit false. In actuality, I think about life realistically,  and that causes me to spiral into this sort of sadness. I just think to myself, it's really sad that I'm doing all these things I'm supposed to, but I'm not passionate or happy. I asked my mom to comfort me today, but all she ended up doing was letting me know how weak-spirited I am. I was honestly dumbfounded; I didn't expect that. It made me wonder if anyone really cares about me. If a tree falls, but no one is there to see it, did it really fall? 

  You haunt my thoughts. A silhouette of your person. Your gentle voice. Nonchalant demeanour. In all your quiet, there is so much noise. Festivities I would like to partake in. I see something beyond what you show.  Sometimes love. Sometimes doubt. Sometimes regret. Most times, I think it's disinterest. Most times, I'm sad.  Maybe I read too fast. Maybe I can't read at all. 

Do you know what is absolutely crazy? Just the amount of effort you actually need to be financially okay. You have to be beyond your capabilities to actually create something for yourself. With each passing year, it just gets harder and harder for us to dream big. If you are not a visionary or born into wealth, it almost feels like you're just a cog in the system. You just rot away at work while few people with money live lavishly. I mean, I'm not going to discredit the wealthy; they are rich because they know how to work the world. They know how to capitalize on their strengths and leverage others'. I do, however, still think the world's a little unfair. You can't argue that their success is not attributed to their circumstances and access to opportunity. It is like the world of the rich is this temperature-controlled aquarium with just a few fish with loads of food and resources. For the not-so-lucky rest of us, we're in the ocean, always worried about whether

I'm afraid of the idea of you losing interest or loving someone else. I'm afraid that if I step outside the bounds of your invisible wants, I'll be nothing to you. I always look forward to seeing you, but I'm unsure if you feel the same way. I want to be on the receiving end of affection; I'm so tired of hoping. Tired to the point that another fear might manifest. The idea of me losing interest and loving someone else. 

I try my very best to keep up will all of what life requires of me; no one really sits down and talks to you about how difficult all of it really is. I feel like a tunnel-visioned gravedigger, working day and night digging, losing sight of where I should be. I dig and dig to the point where I no longer see green grass and flowers. I've become the corpse of my hard, dull, monotonous work. I'm so far gone that I don't even see the people who leave candles for me. My loved once. 

For days now, I have been wondering why I'm left so unbalanced. My mind and soul feel a glass of water knocked off a side table. I did a bit of research just to find out exactly why I was feeling this way and concluded that its likely burnout. I feel absolutely depleted and shattered. I have had terrible thoughts about life. I've been in states of despair and hopelessness. I have considered and rationalized options that will disappoint people in my life. I am just so exhausted; thinking just feels like torture. I would happily be snow white if someone gave me an apple. To be in deep slumber and to wake up to all my dreams come true; sounds like bliss. 

I'm so lost in this world. That hasn't really sunk in up to now. Now that so much is at stake in terms of where life is going and the expectations I need to meet. I'm terrified to the absolute core but also so exhausted that I think a solution won't be coming any time soon. I wish for my life to become more enjoyable. 

I would be more disingenuous if I pretended like I enjoyed your company. Networking is such a drag sometimes. The fact is, I can try to relate to you or marvel at your interest, but deep in my gut, I don't honestly care. I'd much rather have a conversation where I'm actually enjoying myself. 

"Perfection is finally attained not when there is no longer anything to add, but when there is no longer anything to take away." - Antoine de Saint Exupery

Oh boy, here we are again. The same sort of loving insomnia. The restlessness of mind and heart. I can't stop thinking about how wonderful it would be to explore your person. I have the sort of love for you where my service brings me fulfillment. I feel joy when I can get a smile on your charming face. My eyes sparkle when I feel your warmth. My thoughts run when I think I'm not doing enough. In all my doubt, you are always there to make me feel like I'm on the right track, and I love that about you. I love listening to you talk; I enjoy the nuances of your character. I love that you try to understand me, even when it sometimes feels like hugging a cactus. I love that despite my constant overthinking, you never inflate with me. You are always there to calm me down. I feel so at ease with you. I aspire to have some of your endearing qualities; I work hard to ensure that my relationship with you is not just one-sided. I want you to benefit from it as much as I benefit from yo

You know what is incredibly ironic, most people would feel absolutely happy to have a break from their hectic lives, but here I am, Miserable and hopeless. I realize keeping busy made me forget just how absolutely sad I really am. It's been just a day without having to worry about my responsibilities, and I find myself in tears on my bed. I peel layers and layers of unresolved what-ifs, insecurities, and regrets. What's horrible is that I don't miss work either. I just prefer the lesser pain. Life is objectively saddening.

  I just want someone to cheer me up. I'm always sad.

My brain is so caught up in past disappointments that wherever I interact with people, I always assume the worst of them. I don't stop and think, "Wait, maybe I just took that the wrong way," or "Maybe they didn't really mean to say it like that."  Today, I asked how someone whom I hadn't seen in a while had been, and I was hit with one-word responses; I tried to bring more to the conversation, but I was shut down with the "okay," the kind of "okay" was there so much disinterest that the "o"s piled on, it's as if I said the most boring thing in the world. To give more context to the setting, I was talking in an online group chat. After the whole conversation ordeal, I immediately left the chat to take a breather because I was slightly upset by how this person was treating me. I felt that this person was partial to everyone else but me. I was in deep thought about the peculiarity of that conversation. I went online to see

Someone told me today that I was a people person, but to be honest, I don't really feel like I am. I'm very selective, actually, most times just receptive to people I feel incredibly comfortable with. I think they just get that vibe of me because I make an effort to make people who appreciate me feel appreciated. 

I lose my train of thought when I feel people are judging my response. I want to contribute, but my self-image and esteem get in the way. 

I think the biggest drive for me to make a positive change is when I'm made to feel less than, incompetent, or undeserving. I feel challenged to show all of those who doubt me just how amazing I can be. I aim to outperform. I aim to be recognized. 

Whenever I see you, I'm called to do more and to be more in order to somehow pique your interest. To make you think that I'm a basket worth all your eggs. When we interact, it just feels so smooth and effortless, and I don't feel drained after conversations. When you speak, I can't help but admire you. I make an effort to listen even when my attention span is less than desirable; the net benefit for me just feels worth it. When you act all goofy, I want to just cover you in my arms. I daydream about how warm you would make me feel. I so deeply want to run my fingers along your hair and just take time to show you my affection. How wonderful would it be to be together? These, of course, are all just unrealistic desires. I know I can't be with you. There's just too great of a chinook pushing you away from where I want you to be. I do, however, appreciate that I can dream. 

I lose my love of writing when I start thinking of it as grasping at strings toward success. I put too much pressure on myself to create this meticulous business when really, it's an art. I always revert back to thinking about revenues when I feel so deeply saddened by the idea that my life will not amount to anything. I just want to be able to provide and take care of the people I care about. I don't want them or myself to worry about the material aspects of life. I want to cover it all so that they are able to cover all their dreams and aspirations.  

I feel trapped inside a bubble. A bubble made of expectations. If I pop it, I'm afraid of just how real and vulnerable I'll feel and be seen. I had a talk with some really important people in life, and it led to a conversation about their expectations of me; to be this ball of success when truly, I feel like I'm worlds apart from what they envision in their heads. I feel sorrow when I think about failing them when they so blatantly tell themselves and others how I'm their glimmer of hope. How I'm meant to be their light under the darkness of uncertainty. I'm made to feel like it's my duty and its purpose to make sure they live happy and fulfilling lives. They make attempts to indoctrinate the idea that self-sacrifice for their betterment is the path to self-fulfillment. I love these people, but I'm not blind to what they want. Essentially, they want to switch places, to put me in the box they lived decades in so that they can roam free and grant their wi

I didn't realize that there was so much at stake if I failed in the future. It terrifies me to the core.