My clothes are in piles, collecting the dust that I just cleaned off them. My bed is unmade in the sunlight, with pencils and pens underneath it. I’m not dumb, but I’m not the smartest person in the room. I Google synonyms for simple words because my vocabulary is a little redundant, even though I know a lot of words I’ll never use because I saw them in the fantasy book I read when I was 13, not a dictionary. I do own a dictionary, but it has been in the same spot on my desk for months. I only touch it when I clean my desk. It hasn’t been cleaned for almost a year. I throw shopping bags, books, socks, and hair ties on the first surface I see when I walk into my room. My room is a true reflection of my mind — chaotic. My thoughts aren’t sorted into neat file cabinets, similar to the papers on the floor by my desk. My mind is constantly racing with thoughts that are trying to find their place. Where do they go? Where do I go?

I’m trying to allow myself to be emotional and vulnerable. I mean .. not to trauma dump or whatever I know we just met, sorry, but I grew up hearing “stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about” .. I was like 6 so that was weird but anyways. Because of that, I always try to appear put together and stable even though my throat gets tight when someone asks me what’s wrong .. yikes! I downloaded substack because a friend (hi) suggested it since I’m always ranting on my Instagram stories and love a good think piece! I want my work to sound poetic for some odd reason but unfortunately, speak like a teenager from one of those early 2000’s high school shows so that’s not happening. anyways, thank you for reading stranger. I hope you have a good rest of your day or night. whatever side of the earth you’re on.

whether it’s relationships, as if i have any experience in those, or friendships, i find it difficult not to let the emotions consume every fiber of my being.

years ago, we bonded over our love of unicorns and rainbows. years later, you’ve moved on to bigger, more important things, meanwhile, I see a rainbow in the sky and suddenly my mind is flooded with the laughter we shared in elementary school. you told me you liked the color blue, and now everything is blue. I think of you anytime I see the fruit you bit into all those years ago, even if you didn’t like it. anytime we exchange texts, I get a fuzzy feeling in my chest. even though I can’t hear your voice, the thought of your giggles as I say my terrible jokes adds a little glimmer to my eyes.

I’m not a possessive person, but I can’t help feeling a little hurt when I see or hear you calling another person your best friend. I know I’m not the only person that exists in your movie, but am I more than a side character in it? when I say “I love you” it carries the weight of my entire existence. when you say it, does it carry any weight? do you mean it the way I do? if I texted, asking for a shoulder to lean on, would you be there for me? I’d drop everything I’m doing just to hold you as you cry into my arms, even though we’re miles apart. I’ll answer your call at 4 am if you ask me to. just so you aren’t alone.

if I were given a choice to live a carefree life or take on your burdens so you could live a carefree life, I’d chain myself with zero hesitation. seeing you smile is the freest I’ve ever felt.

i think that because i didn’t feel comfortable expressing my emotions and being vulnerable, i have kept it all inside of me for most of my life. one of those emotions being love. i have so much of it in my heart. so much that my heart is bursting at the seams, begging to be relieved. on the other hand though, i have also kept all of the negative emotions inside of me as well. having a mother who thinks any sort of criticism is the equivalent of a stab in her back… a lot of that frustration has been brewing in my chest. what if my future lover unknowingly triggers a landmine when they walk into our home? violates a boundary i never set due to my lack of experience in communication? the fear of lashing out on them because i have wounds that have yet to be bandaged with the proper care scares me. what do i do? all i know is how to walk away. all i know is how to shut people out. my heart has been locked away. the door bolted shut. locks untouched for so long that they’ve rusted into place. how do i unlock them? how do i tear these walls down and rebuild them? clean these infectious wounds and apply the clean bandages?

i’m still young. i haven’t experienced much of the world yet. maybe i’m noticing that everyone around me has fallen in love, but i haven’t so i feel behind. perhaps i am capable of love— i just haven’t found the person who made me feel safe enough to let my mask fall. hopefully i’ll allow my heart to throw itself at the person it’s reaching for. soon enough, i’ll know how it feels to love.

I’m so proud of you. You were such a bright person and I hope that in an alternate universe, you never dimmed. Sometimes I wish I could travel back in time and see you one more time. But I wouldn’t want you to see me. I don’t even think you’d recognize me. Not because there have been a lot of positive changes. But because… I went down the complete opposite path you worked so hard to pave. The ground was so smooth. No pebbles, no cracks, no weeds peeking through. It was one straight line leading to a door that opened to show everything you’ve been working for. Instead, I walked in the opposite direction. The ground worn with cracks and patchy dirt. There’s no clear path. I’m not sure where to go from here. I think you’d be disappointed in me. I hate disappointing anyone. My skin crawls at the thought of it. But you? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you saw me now. I can’t even say “us” because this isn’t who you wanted to become. We aren’t the same person, and I’m so sorry. Is it weird to say that I miss you? I’m still here, obviously, and I went from being you to the person I am now. But it feels like I’ve lost you completely. All the dreams you had, the goals you strove for, the light you had. I lost it. I don’t know where I left them. I don’t know where I lost you. Can I come back? Will you be sitting on the front porch of our old house in Texas with Pinkie Pie, our pink stuffed cat, held to your chest? Will you give me that same gummy smile that lit up any room you were in? Will you run up and hold on to me? Will I ever see you again? Will I ever be able to say “us” again? Will I ever find the parts of you that I left behind?

Wasn’t sure how to end this lol! I’ve been thinking about my younger self recently so I decided to write up a letter to her. Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you have a good rest of your day or night. whatever side of the earth you’re on.

I sound very harsh, but I don’t mean to! Let me overshare a little—not trauma dumping. I grew up religious, nondenominational Christian, and I still am. My relationship with it is a little rocky. …slowly trying to rebuild it and form my own beliefs with it, but anyway. I mention that because many of the decisions I make are because other people made them for me. Whether it was direct or influenced. It is extremely frustrating. I feel like a circus animal. Actually, no, a puppet is a better comparison. Here's a fun fact for the people who don’t know me, which is everyone but one person on here (hi <3): I have ADHD! Not fun at all, by the way. One day, I was in the doctor’s office, and of course, my leg was just swaying like a dandelion in the wind, except the wind was the AC. My sometimes sweet mom put her hand on my leg and told me to stop. There have been many instances where people physically made me stop or begin to do things. Similar to that of a puppet. This seems to be something people want. But why? Why do people want to have such mundane things be “normalized”? Why should the general public decide if something you want to do is normal? Just do it! Stop being so wrapped up in what is trendy and just do it.

Oh no, ankle socks are trendy, but you think knee-high socks look better with your shoes. Should you go out and buy ankle socks just because the girl on your fyp said “ankle socks are like sooooooo in. how else would you wear socks?” NO!! You don’t. You buy ankle socks when you think they’ll go better with an outfit that you are wearing. I promise, no one will look at your knee-high socks and think, “Who still wears those?”. Even if they do, which you won’t know because you aren’t a mind reader, so stop pretending that you are, why should it matter? Instead of thinking that you’re the one who’s doing something wrong, maybe direct that energy to the person who is judging you for wearing *checks notes* socks. Let’s take a vote. Who is the bigger loser here: you, someone who is living their life authentically, or the passerby who is judging someone for an accessory? Oh, look at that. It’s unanimous: the judge who has no credentials is the loser! So, put on those knee-high socks and strut down the sidewalk to wherever your destination is. This is your life, so live it by doing the things that are normal to you, and you only.

Hey, thanks for reading! It means a lot that you decided to read my post. I hope you liked it. I hope you have a good rest of your day or night. whatever side of the earth you’re on.

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I believe that humans were created to love, to create, and to share. When did we start teaching each other the opposite?

Love letters that described how much we craved to feel the soft but electrifying touch of our lovers once again turned into messages describing the disdain we have for one another. Friends not being afraid to reach out to one another in times of need turned into dragging themselves into a corner with a bloody hand clasped over their wounds because they didn’t want to be a burden. Mothers and fathers drowning their children in love and admiration turned into the muffling of their pleas for attention. Strangers offering soft, passing smiles turned into ignoring the disheveled bodies on the road.

We have normalized a lack of empathy and sympathy for one another. Suddenly, it is “corny” or unacceptable to be open and vulnerable about your struggles. It is uncomfortable for others to see someone committing genuine acts of kindness because they have worked to perfect their stone mask. Not a single glint of life is visible in their eyes. Not a single note of glee is heard in their monotone voice. Their days are filled with isolation in a home that is stripped of memories and quality time. The floors are worn, not from the endless number of times that friends have fallen onto them from uncontrollable laughter, but the lack thereof. The lights emit a mute, lifeless glow instead of the warm, persimmon colored glimmer that paints the room with a restful ambiance.

The value of human-created material is plummeting before us. Art galleries allow ingenuine art created by machines to be sold for millions of dollars while the canvas that is drenched with a human’s sweat and love is collecting dust in their basement. The very machines that are being taught and trained with human creations are taking our place. The creatives that should be traveling the world are told to abandon their dreams and sentence themselves to life behind a desk with eyes glued to a computer screen. The humans who have built the world from the ground up are struggling to soothe their hungry spirits meanwhile, colonizers who have poisoned the soil and air are sailing the seas on the labor of millions.

Years ago, it was believed that humans would have been advanced enough to create cures for every illness and cancer possible. Instead, humans are creating more cancers to produce sick people who will desperately throw their money into the hands of those who preach the word of healing. We are deceived into planting seeds that grow into blossoming trees of hatred and evil with roots that further taint the land our children play on. The food they eat that was grown in this wretched soil poisons their souls. The cruel words they speak act as spores that carry themselves far distances. When they latch onto a patch of dirt, the process repeats. As the generations continue, more evil is created. As humanity advances, we lose some- we lose ourselves. We lose the ability to be human.

It would be foolish to think that evil is a new concept that only started to exist in recent years. I am aware that cruelty existed long before the first humans roamed the earth. But was humanity always this unkind? Were the stories of lovers still holding on to each other after death, and the paintings of children resting in the shade of a willow tree after a long day of play just… figments of someone's imagination? Has kindness never existed, and I’m mourning a world that never truly lived? Am I irrational to desire a little more compassion?

Is it wrong to want to be human?

Hello reader! This is my first Substack and my first time trying to actually… write something besides an academic essay, I guess? I hope the message in this piece is clear and understandable. Any critiques on my work are welcome! not sure how to end this, so I hope you have a good rest of your day or night. whatever side of the earth you’re on. Thanks for reading! Still working on a sign-off…