moon of pluto

maya ocean charon

my thoughts while sitting in coffee monster

sitting in an overpriced coffee shop looking out the window towards the parking lot. i ordered a mango iced latte half sweet and a lemon macaron. today i was privileged enough to not need to check how much a macaron costs

 

the macaron is cold and tastes like a fridge. the pregnancy test in my backpack is screaming so so loud its the only thing i hear amongst the coffee shop ambiance, my earphones currently blaring "give yourself a try" by the 1975, and the text notifications of my boyfriend telling me google results for if theres sperm in precum or not.

 

how did i end up here again? i wish i was a kid again. what would i say to my younger self?

 

i find myself wishing really hard that i was high. am i addicted to drugs?

 

im almost afraid to pee on this stick even though im 90% sure itll be negative. im just chugging this latte so i can make myself pee easier.

 

my body exists solely for the entertainment of others

 

 

fitting in

I've never felt like I fit in with anybody. it doesn't matter who it is. a large group of people, or a few. I just don't feel like a part of something bigger, something whole. and it's not because I'm special, unique, an oddball. I feel like after over 100 billion people that have ever lived, my entire life has probably happened before, just in a different body and time. maybe some people just weren't meant to be part of this bigger thing whatever it may be. 

my eyeballs need COLOUR

there are many people whose blogs are centred around beauty/lifestyle like a self-published fashion magazine, or they post about their daily lives, family, etc. some people just post the things they create like poetry or photography.

 

I am not really sure what I want to do with my blog yet. it feels good to have my own space on the internet but there's nothing in particular that I want to do with it.

 

On another note I am looking to buy a pair of colour contact lenses because I like the look, but I am far-sighted(hyperopia) and, to make matters worse, my right eye is plano. So, the cheapest pair I can get to fit my needs is $40 not including shipping + handling, and they're also the yearly lenses that turn your eye into a barren desert wastland by sucking all of the moisture out. here is something amusing yet sad:

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diary

I dream of being like Anne Frank, or Anaïs Nin, how their diaries were famously known and read even decades after their deaths. But of course I don't want to experience the terrifying prospect of war like Anne, or the STD-ridden scandals of Anaïs. There's a price to pay for safety and that's boredom. So I think my diary would just get laughed at. 

 

A girl's diary is filled with her secrets, yet theirs were published and translated into different tongues for all the world to absorb. I think that the closest I could get to that would be to publish my diary myself. Privacy in the 21st century is a joke. I have no secrets. I am baring it all here. 

 

I've always thought that keeping a diary is too self-indulgent. Even now, I feel disgusting writing this. 

 

I picked a pretty blog theme to distract from the subpar content.

friend

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photo taken from Korean Students Speak

 

I've thought for a bit about what I consider to be a friend. It's not like there is some clearly drawn out line defining what is friend what is lover what is acquaintance what is a confidant what is a stranger? and there are many more things in life that are even more unclear, even more loosely understood. words can only reach for, can barely grasp these abstract things. the nuances of human relationships are impossible to compass entirely using language, visual, whatever. take for example this page I just found with a quick google search looking for types of relationships.

when I came across the above photo on Korean Students Speak, it sparked even more thought. if we were to befriend a carbon copy of ourselves, would we enjoy the friendship? would we become the best of friends? or would we despise each other, would a rivalry form?

this is a common thing people think about with romantic relationships. the whole thing about being in love with yourself, the "opposites attract" thing. it's commonly believed that you'd get bored in a relationship with yourself, run out of things to talk about, have nothing to "discover" about each other because you both already know everything there is to know.

but of course you'd look for something different in a friendship than a romantic relationship? i personally love a low maintenance friendship, as someone that can't go out too much, can't respond to too many texts, can't spend too many hours chatting before losing my mind. i love the kind of friendship that i don't need to tend to constantly as one would with a baby, but you still know that the loyalty exists and it's mutual. it's strong.

so maybe this doesn't make sense but i'd give it a shot, being friends with myself. i sometimes feel like i'm too picky in choosing my friends, leaving me with almost none at the end of the day. but surely that's a good thing? quantity over quality? it just leaves me feeling a little stranded. a little alone.

hopefully, as with all turmoil i've experienced in my short life, i'll find out a solution soon and look back wondering what i was ever worrying about.