sliced bread

You have to remember who you really are
You were a straightforward person
You helped your friend out of self harm
You were someone who always had a Plan B
You were a good listener and you would offer a shoulder to cry on not caring whether or not they would even do the same for you
You were Ilana Wexler
You were fun and happy-go-lucky and impulsive and you would make people laugh
You didn’t care what strangers say
You only cared what the people you cared think
You didn’t treat people lightly but you made jokes so they don’t have to take it as heavy
You would go out of your way to buy someone a present
Sometimes you were already ready before the b-day
You were someone who didn’t care if you skipped class
Because you knew that you’d work hard to make up for it
You never had anyone to help you take a break
But you have made it this far
When someone wants to help, take their hand
It’s time for you to stop being so goddamn stubborn
And let them help you
But don’t forget that even when you have someone
That you’re still you
That you are still who you were
And maybe some things need improvements
But you’re still you
And you are loyal
You are hopeful
You are positive
You are amazing
You are great
You are something else
You are the best thing since sliced bread.

Sincerely,
You from the past

Advertisements

it’s okay.

I almost self-harmed tonight.
I hate myself so much for hurting the people I love that I actually tried.
But I told myself that I shouldn’t let myself get reduced to that point, I decide to be better, more independent, love myself more. I do so many things wrong that I drove people away from me, I keep telling myself that I’m human and to not be so hard on myself but it’s taking a toll on me. It’s started to get worst.
I started thinking about suicide again, and again, and feeling how it could be peaceful. But I also think that there are people who need me, or at least tell myself that there still people who need me.
I gotta love myself, care for myself, this shit can’t faze me.
I gotta love myself, care for myself, this shit can’t faze me.
I gotta love myself, care for myself, this shit can’t faze me.
I gotta love myself, care for myself this shit won’t faze me ever again.

you won’t read what i’m writing, because i choose to believe that you are as dead as you think i am.

the thing is, i’m a pretty open person, very chill, very much okay with what’s going on. i try to help, i try to listen, but i can be a bitch sometimes too. i mean, i’m human, and someone has said that ‘shit happens’. but, I never really intend to hurt the people close to me, although, they all get shit from me somehow. misunderstanding, that’s the word, they took me for someone i’m not.

they think i did something so bad, and I can see how a part of what I did is bad. i try to understand your perspective, but i know you won’t, whoever you are i think you know that now this apply not only to you. i know everyone’s not me, i gotta try even more, because not everyone’s as chill or as forgiving. even if you’re still mad and hate me and talk shit about me, does not mean that i am doing the same.

just so you know, i don’t mean to hurt anyone, i was joking or trying to help. but y’all rather block me and talk behind me instead of confronting me. and no matter how straightforward i am, i gotta understand that you are not the same. we passed each other’s lives but i guess you wanna cut ties after you saw the fog, and you don’t bother to ask if anyone’s still alive, you just made assumptions and thought that your hypothesis is the one you choose to believe.

am I going to make it?

have you ever felt tired even if you’re not doing anything? it’s like you know how to function, but you just don’t want to. and at the end of the day you realized that you did nothing, and the feeling of ‘i could’ve or should’ve done something’ is eating you up. but instead of functioning, you stare into nothing, your mind turns blank, and you tell yourself that there is no point anymore, that you’ll do better tomorrow. you keep trying to change, sometimes you make yourself think that you are trying when you’re actually not. and you do it again, one night turns to some nights, turns into every night. the guilt eats you up sometimes, sometimes you survive, the justifications win sometimes, sometimes you blame yourself, and sometimes you die on the inside, not knowing how you can feel this way, not knowing the reason to live even if those reasons are telling you that you’ve been staring right at them.

i will be okay

honestly, i miss the old times too. “Well, it’s great to talk about new times too, but there’s just something about the old times…” Leslie Knope once said. but you know, the new times are not good enough right now. i miss being able to talk to my friends, any of them. i have this exhaustion when talking to people, even just chatting, hell, even chatting my boyfriend gets tiring sometimes. i’m not feeling like myself, i feel like the easily drained self where everything is wrong even when it’s not. i miss having fun with my boyfriend too, but he only helps me a bit now, i gotta help myself too. my happy days are my okay days, and my bad days are my crying myself to sleep because i can’t escape somewhere days. please understand that, i will be better. i assure you, i’m very ambitious in making things better.

can anyone hear me?

honestly, i miss writing poems and short stories and novelas, but now i barely have the time or the want to those things. i started to have more and more stress and i don’t feel like my hobbies are exciting me anymore. it turns into a time where i just got bored at everything and i don’t know what to do. i don’t know where my friends are, i don’t know which one of them i can really talk to anymore, and i don’t know which ones are also trying to see me, or at least hear from me.

my only best friend right now is my boyfriend, and that is a blessing because we both love each other so much. but i can’t go to a boyfriend to do a best friend’s job. sometimes i just want to have coffee and catch up and learn how everybody’s been doing, or talk about sex the weird way like my friends and i always do, tease and bully the hell out of each other, but strong and supportive of each other.

i honestly don’t know what i’m doing with my life, and how i’m doing it. i’m not sure i enjoy them 100% but i don’t know what else am i supposed to be doing. i miss not stressing out about jobs and money all the time, i miss the time when i can go out and gossip and talk about the old times and the new times, i miss getting drunk and falling asleep so soundly and not getting a hangover when i wake up early the next morning, i miss mostly thinking about positive outcomes or how to get positive outcomes. i miss my hobbies. i miss my friends.

i miss writing poems and short stories and novelas, but i have ran out of stories to tell or to write. i no longer read the books that i bought or the movies that i downloaded, i just stare blankly into the screen and hope i can still make something out of my glitchy brain.

hope everyone has a great new year. i miss all of you. and i bet none of you will read this letter.

a love poem

I love myself
I love the way my hair looks
I love it when my parents let me cut it short
I love how my mom lets me wear clothes that I like
I love that my dad doesn’t get mad easily anymore
I love how comfortable I feel in my own skin
I love that I can learn to face problems face on
I love my addiction for television series
I love my endless supply of novels
I love my big ass computer
I love how I can get a good GPA without even trying
I love the fact that I still GOT IT
I love my new denim jacket
I love my body shop perfumes
I love my friends
I love how I chose to let go of some people
I love that I realized I still have sympathy
I love that I’m not as selfish as I used to be
I love that I can write this many things about what I love
I love that I can remind myself to love myself
I love this weird poem
I love how this is not a poem
I love how this could also be a poem
I love myself
I need to realize that I am loved and will always be loved