The day we talked, the sun was about to set. It turned the sky pink, out at the sea.
Has anyone ever felt like their name is not their own name? I’ve been feeling this disassociation for a while now. I’m not even sure if I can confidently tell you my name anymore because it almost feels like I don’t have a name. I just am.
I don’t even know why I am writing this. I didn’t want to write it because I don’t know, I thought maybe these deep dark secrets might come back to haunt me, whether or not I actually do fulfill the life I imagined for myself. But I guess it’s not […]
Home is where the dark thoughts are. It’s quieter here. I know this place, I grew up in this place — well, mostly. I have so many memories here that it’s hard to escape the haunting times when you lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling and listening […]
I’m rather conflicted as I write this, even though I have, what I like to consider, more important things to do than face this issue. But after some ‘mindfulness’ experiments during tutorial sessions of my class of Reading as a Writer, an old issue came back to haunt me.
In the dead of night, when there is nothing else around me other than darkness and the quiet rumbling of the air conditioner above me, thoughts I try to push to the back of my mind during the day crawl out to haunt me as I lay on my bed.
Recently, I’ve been feeling rather depressed. I’m not going to go ahead and self-diagnose myself, but that is the only thing I could think of that fits my symptoms. When I list them out, as well, other people seem to come to the conclusion that it might be depression.