I Also Think.... I Also Write

Everyone & Everything dies. The tree that you see right outside your door will die someday, the bird that's flying in the sky will no longer be in the sky one day, the snail that's moving on the ground will no longer be there one day, and we, we humans are as certain to die like Everything else in the world. Some die because they choose to do so, and some die because their body is reaching the end of its life. But grieving and mourning are different for everyone. I'm not someone who intensely mourns over the death of people around me cause I understand death is inevitable, and there's not a power in the universe that can stop it; in addition, I'm never comfortable showing my emotions to others... It's tough losing someone close to us & it's tough having to move on with the realization of their absence...I often deal with my emotions by acknowledging the pain and understanding that there is no "normal" timetable for grieving. At

I had a very chaotic teenage life; ever since I was 17, I started to go to therapy & was on a lot of antidepressants. Back then, my bisexuality & queer identity made me feel very uncomfortable and suffocated cause I wasn't able to accept myself; I guess that was just a result of my upbringing in a conservative household. Anyway, when I look back to the past, I see a very naive person who wanted a lot of validation and acceptance from people around them. I was a people pleasurer as I did about anything if it meant that the "said" person would be happy. But now that I'm 19, I understand things better than I used to, but I still carry a lot of shame & guilt, which I cannot get past. Many things happened to me while I was 16,17, and many of them still traumatizes me. But therapy has helped me manage my emotions regarding the said "subject." When I was 16, I spent a lot of time online; I talked with many strangers and befriended them. But

People are subconsciously pushed into looking like / or presenting themselves as a certain perfect figurine...And that figurine is somewhat already established... I feel everyone has been a victim of envying men & women in magazines, televisions, and phones because, for some reason, that felt acceptable and beautiful to us. But why do we hate it when it comes back to our bodies? The reasons are so much deeper than someone to pinpoint & explain; there are good reasons and bad reasons – they may not be correct, they may be horrific and mean and based on decades of well-funded sexism and fatphobia,...but they were taught to us while we were very young.  We cannot turn around without being exposed to depictions of very thin, tall, "flawless," often highly sexualized women & men. And due to the very fact that beauty is often related to people having "Perfect" bodies, we end up questioning our own; we even take it a step further and point out the p

Does anybody feel that life isn't really for them? That you're tired of it all. Some people wake up, and they go to work, and they wait in traffic, and they pay their bills, and they care about the opinion of others, and they come home to sleep in the same bed they've been sleeping since a decade or so... Do you ever feel like you're above all it all? The layers of bullshit in everyday life. Cause you know for a fact that people will let you down. The fact that everyone you've ever known will die. The vanity of existence, the lack of true meaning, and compensating for it by setting goals for yourself to keep busy is no different than the donkey that goes after the carrot on the stick.  Yeah, people will disregard those thoughts. They'll say you're "depressed ."They'll say meaning is in the little things. They'll try and help you with inhibitors, counseling, and hollow advice. They'll cut you out 'cause "wow, that ne

Life is tiresome. Let's go back to when we were seven years old, sitting on that old rusty school bus. When you tapped me on my shoulder and asked me, 'Are you really from Nepal?!" & that was the first time I ever talked to you; you were my next-door neighbor. We would often do our avatar screeches to call one another. When we used to play ball together, it used to be fun. I miss the dog that both of us were scared of touching. I missed when you got picky about your blue raspberry candy or when you used to dress up for your birthday. Let's go back to when we were seven. And please, please let's stay there too. Let's stay there, so I don't have to feel what I felt when I left India, what I felt as I grew older here. Let's stay there so I wouldn't have to find new friends who eventually left me. Let's stay there. Let's stay there because I miss the school we used to go to together....please, let's go back to when we were se

 I observe most individuals find it near impossible to separate the artist from the art unless they are artists themselves; it’s like the way individuals feel indignant that someone who makes their living as a clown isn’t constantly funny in real life. The artist becomes commodified, and often when there is some monetary exchange for serving the consumer, feels entitled, like asking if what they want comes in a different color, shape, size, pattern or tweaking their meal to suit them perfectly- you become the object or meal and they’re expecting/projecting something. It’s the vector of emotional immaturity and consumerist entitlement wrapped decoratively around the core of a wounded inner child who is freaking out in one way or another.

I have had anxiety on and off for over a year, and it stems back to a time in the services, but you can control it to some degree. The subconscious part of the brain sends these nasty little messages down a one-way street to our conscious part of the brain, where these little triggers turn into reality. Still, we cannot tell it to stop because it's a one-way street unless you learn to mentally tell it to "go take a hike" and then concentrate on something else. The more you think about the symptoms, the more you open up that one-way street. Anxiety feeds from anxiety; the more you let it take control, the more it will, It eventually got better as I got used to it. However, when I'm stressed, my mind and body still escape to "the other side," and I feel like I disconnect from the real world, and everything is just so surreal, and I lose connection to myself. It's annoying, but the longer you have to deal with things like that, the more you real

Its It's been a year since I wrote anything, and getting back to it is pretty scary...A lot of things have changed in the past year, a lot of people around me and a lot of 'me'...A lot of 'me' generally refers to how I've changed both physically and mentally...well let's talk about the easier thing for now; even though my growth over the past year hasn't been linear, it's been significant to me, I've finally started becoming a person small "me" would like to look up to. I'm finally in a position where I can say I'm proud of myself. I've personally gone through a fair amount of traumatic shit the past year, but again there's no running away from it. For the half part, it took me an insanely large amount of time to realize what I had been through was extremely bad and unfair. I kept blaming myself for the other half, feeling incredibly guilty and ashamed of it, but I sometimes still do. Still, I don't let it be a reaso