growing up is such a bittersweet experience
Good things make me anxious.
They feel like little birds landing on my shoulder, beautiful, soft, and incredibly light. And I can never shake the feeling that the moment I breathe in too deeply, they’ll flutter away. So I hold my breath… for as long as I can. I grip the goodness too tightly, until it bruises under the strength of my anxiety and fear. I try to earn it, to deserve it, to bargain with the universe so it stays. I do good things, hoping that maybe this time, I’ll be allowed to keep what I love.
But even in the warmth of joy, I mourn. I mourn in advance. I say goodbyes into the arms of beginnings. Because I’ve seen the way good things vanish. I’ve watched laughter curdle into silence. I’ve felt love dissolve in someone’s absence. So, when something kind or soft or bright finds me, I flinch. I brace. I mourn.
And sometimes, I let go too soon. I release the good before it can truly transform me. Before it can make a home in me. Because what if it leaves anyway? What if it teaches me a new kind of light, only to disappear and leave me in darkness that feels even deeper than before?
It’s such a strange thing, to be afraid of healing. To ache for something while pushing it away. I want good things to stay.
But maybe some good things are just meant to be held gently, with both hands, for as long as they’ll let you.
my bad, academia is 99.999% of my personality. 😔
so it turns out that time actually does go by faster as you get older. just like how adults told me it would when i was younger. pisses me off
it’s my hobby actually
I love to seduce
Every decision I make is on purpose
i think i oscillate between periods of isolation and socialisation, i am the most balanced when i am alone but i am the most connected when i have community. i’m learning to balance the two
There are things that it’s not very easy to fold neatly and put away.