I don't know if it's just me, but every time I write something, I feel so self-conscious about sharing it with other people. I know the story or the essays are not bad, and I know that I have the skills to write compelling stuff, but sometimes I have a hard time defining what's good for my standards, and I have an even harder time defining what's good in the heads of other people. I think this may have hurt my creative process a little bit.

So, I realized that at Reserve, many people just do not care. I think I can feel comfortable writing whatever I want now, so enjoy this:

rndadom assorrtement offf lettersrrs taht kdina maean someathing
beucase yoer brairn cleimas iit doeas
LAnaguea iiss a litlte biit carszy enad I lovea iit

State of mind of an average teenager.
Hour 1 of losing my AirPods.
Going insane right now. Where the actually did I put my AirPods. The farther I leave campus, the more concerned I become. I’m using my sad budget.

Hour 5 of losing my AirPods
I have never felt so lonely in my life.

Being and Becoming

The difference between being and becoming lies in change, but humans have a knack, or evolutionary “advantage” to adapt to change. That means our fundamental nature intrinsically trivializes change, or at least attempt to by gaslighting us until we fail, give up, not in the sense of giving up on life but rather giving up on living.

The next question arises in what it means to give up on life versus what it means to give up on living. As much I want to say that there is no difference, there probably is.

Page 162

Her Love moved to anticipation.
She shifted Her Gesture
around the timid, velvet –
Softness – a Tenderness gently welled Her;
Her Sweetness, Her Silence was better
than laughter,
memories,
desire,
lust.

My birthday is in winter.

On December 9th 2005, I was born.

It was “the best day of my life.”

I love to feel, and my life allows me to experience things, to touch the water bottle next to my bedside, to see the beautiful garden outside my windows, to smell the slightly strong candle scent in my dorm room, to hear the loud exploding sounds of fireworks, to taste spice from all over the world, to interact with people, to have genuine conversations, to travel, and to be myself.

I experience devastation, anger, and helplessness very often, and music helps me cope.

Honestly, I am glad to be where I am,
“Right now, I'm just happy to be alive.”