(in no chronological order)
i am so contented, a contentment that stretches beyond physical surroundings and instead lodges itself firmly in your mental crevices. a contentment that makes you feel dizzy from the accumulated joy, gratitude, relief, excitement — which all then peter out into contentment. it’s the disbelief that stuns you when you realise how remarkable it feels when good things just keep happening one after another, how you find it hard to catch up but you savour the chase anyway. it takes away all the negativity and pessimism built up within you over a long period of time and then just firmly crushes them to dust, and you want to indulge in this continuous pummelling, want to bathe in this luxuriously rare feeling, want to savour it endlessly, want it to not end.
and it’s just. i am finally learning to notice the good in situations and people rather than the bad. focusing on things that make me feel happy and confident. willing to tear down barriers previously set up to be more welcoming towards positive thoughts. these are the feelings i am grateful for when i look around and take in all my family and friends around me and realise that i am loved. it’s the thing prompting me to document our time together and my feelings at that current moment, to go on and on endlessly to anyone who was willing to listen about things that make me excited, optimistic for more to come. because i am grateful, i am so grateful and i will never stop telling that to the people who make me feel this way. never stop telling them how fortunate and blessed i feel to have met them and be a part of their lives, their stories. so i say thank you, while inside i feel the weight of those two words holding more meaning and gratitude than they commonly do.
and that’s great. that’s all great! like i always say at the end of every outing blogpost because it’s the truth. i’ll go to sleep thinking about it while smiling, and wake up the next day feeling the same sort of contentment and cherishing the fact that i have the opportunity to curate an archive of memories filled with adventures and tales i’ve gone on with the people i love.
i am so tired, a tiredness that stretches beyond physical exertion and instead seeps into the very fibre of your being. a tiredness that makes you feel dizzy from the accumulated sadness, fear, anger, frustration — which all then peter out into tiredness. it’s the disbelief that stuns you when you realise how egregious it feels when bad things just keep happening one after another, how it doesn’t even allow you room to catch your breath. it takes away all the willpower and optimism built up within you over a long period of time and then just ruthlessly crushes them to dust, and you want to escape from this continuous pummelling, want to go home, want to disappear from the world, want to not exist.
and it’s just. i am blowing things out of proportions. making a big deal out of things when they really aren’t. behaving like someone who has never gone through hardships in her life. these are the responses i hear in my head before i can start to tell people that maybe i’m not okay and that is it okay if i cry in the presence of a human being for a while? it’s the thing holding me back from shaking my head when people ask me if i’m okay, from bringing my finger down to click send on a message that reads “i need someone to talk to”. because i am weak, i am so weak and i don’t want people to know that. don’t want people to feel the irritant parasitic latch of my whining and ranting onto their own lives, their own problems. so i say i’m okay, while inside i feel like a ticking time bomb.
and that’s fine. that’s all fine. like i always say at the end of every conversation because what other conclusion can i come to. i’ll sleep it off, and wake up the next day forcefully wiping everything from my immediate memory and hope it’s an actual erasure and not just a subtle accumulation that will actually lead to a detonation one day.