2026

an ode to joy and whimsy! i've accepted my fate to forever being a cute girl rather than pretty or attractive. but I have not accepted the fact that I am growing up. what do you mean I will no longer be a teen as of 277 days from now?

I want to keep you in my chest.

Grief is such an interesting concept. For the past nine months I've been grieving someone who is still very much alive. Chronic illness is never something I ever have much thought to. Let alone, cancer. It's such an overwhelming thought. I treated the word like it wasn't real for many years. It meant little to me, and only became passing joke or a passing thought of sympathy whenever I heard that someone I knew was fighting the little word. Maybe I don't want to process anything, the reasons why I'm always distracted, can't focus, can't get myself to study. I envy everyone with an ambition. With a reason to be alive. I have nothing like such, and maybe that's why I think too much about everything surrounding death. I have so many thoughts that I want to write down, too many that I can't get any out. I always wished death upon myself. I wanted to be gone from this world. I feel foolish for still thinking this way. Death is scary. I miss my mom. I grieve her being and her soul and her dreams and her passions and her ambitions and the soft flame within her. I want to dissect her brain, and lay within every curve and ridge. I want to be one with her thoughts, understand every emotion she has felt and every experience she has encountered. She's still alive. I want to hold her in my arms, patting her head and braiding her hair. I want to treat her gently. I wish the world had done the same. Everyday I feel like she is gone. Like she is just a distant memory that I am tucking in the back of my mind. I wish I hadn't. She's still alive, no matter how many times she tells me that death would hurt less than the writhing pain she is subjected to. She hurts so much but she is scared. She is scared to leave her babies and I am scared to leave my mother. Every phone call makes my heart race, thinking I won't be by her side when time catches up to her. I am scared. I want to hold her hand. I want to lay on top of her as she holds me close, coddles me, my ear pressed up against her beating heart. I want to listen to her everlasting love. She always says I am a part of her. I make up the entire left side of her body and soul. How much time is left?

my mother passed away four days ago. it's been a mix of emotions; guilt, pain, loneliness, grief, mourning, relief. all of us were with her during her last hours, but i wish i could've done more. i can't help the guilt in my heart for not easing her pain in her final moments because I was too scared. i am so sorry for being moody, and in tears. i'm sorry for not fulfilling your wishes. i'm sorry for not caring for you more than i have. i'm sorry for leaving you during school. i'm sorry. i'm sorrry.' i'm sorry and i'll never not be sorry. i wish i realized what was happening sooner, and i wish somebody could have told me sooner. it's too soon. i'm not even 20 yet and you are gone. you won't see me getting married, graduating university, maybe even having kids despite my absolute refusal. i won't have my mami by my side. i won't have my mami to complain to, to call, to hug and kiss and cuddle and care for. you are so innocent. i see pictures of you prior to this awful sickness and feel a deep pain, you are just my baby. you are my কলিজা and i am yours. those are the last words i remember. i'm sorry for being so scared. i'm sorry for humming songs as my own way of coping as you were passing. i'm sorry that i got upset and didn't follow proper burial rules and going to your grave. i'm sorry for not being stronger, and i'm sorry for not shedding more tears. i'm sorry that you don't know how much you are loved. papa loves you so much, with all his heart, and i'm sorry he didnt show you this until it was too late. my heart ached when he kept checking for your pulse, not beleiving you were really gone. he asked the nurse if he could listen to your lack of heartbeat using her stethescope, just to make sure. i'm sorry. i'm sorry. i'm sorry for using the money, but it was for your funeral, and papa said he would return it to me. papa has cried so many tears, and i don't know how to help him. i don't know how i can do this. i don't know how to be a good daughter. i'm so scared that papa will be sick, and i haven't gotten anything in my life figured out, no job, no passion, no nothing. papa was on phone with your sister, and he reminisced of a phone call where she said to you about our family picture; he is holding you all as if hes saying that nobody can touch his family; his voice broken and trembling, he says, i wasnt able to hold on to you. they've taken you from me. my heart is broken into an innumerable amount of pieces. i miss you so much. how will i live without you? i know you are no longer in pain and suffering, but why was it all given to you in the first place, my innocent baby mami youve already suffered enough even before this sickness. why are you getting punished for my sins? im sorry for everything ive done, for sinning so much that the world has decided to pay me back with your suffering.

everything just started going downhill. i don't know what it is that makes her lose all sense of self, to only recognize her paina and suffering, no longer recognizing what her body is doing, no recollection of anything. she has no idea what we're saying, i have no idea what she's saying or thinking, and i can't decipher whether it's the morphine making her act this way, the lack of food because she refuses to eat because everything she manages to gulp down ends up coming right back up, or if its death snaking its way into her body, hinting at her end. i feel hopeless and useless. how can i go on a trip when she's on her deathbed? i think i'll have to cancel, despite all the money spent. i have no idea how to live as a human being, i wish i could just disappear right now, i can't hold myself together in any way possible, papa is sick too, his health only getting worse, he's getting older, i don't know how much longer until he's gone too. i just don't know what to do, at all. i don't want to cry because it'll make her cry, and making her cry just makes everyhthing worrse. the doctor said he would drop by, but it's been hours. our house needs so many repairs, and my papa is just one man with everything on his shoulders, relying on nobody. what more has this hell sent me? is my lack of faith showing so desperately that i need to be put in my palce, turn back and become as pious as can be? i wish i had a straight answer. I am stagnant and unhuman. i repent, i repent, i repent all my sins, please give me the ambition to live, the ambition to thrive, the ambition to keep going in the face of loss. please as i reprent, relieve my mother of her pain; i'm sorry for causing all this pain when I could've been better; I could've been a better and more faithful subject, I could've been a more filial dughter. I'm sorry.

i want to be shed of this title but also not. i'm just terrible i think. i ended my life before it could ever think of starting. im starting to feel fatigued. something i'll take to my grave, or to this blog: i'm starting to feel annoyance and disgust and i hate myself for it so much. right as i was thinking it, she threw everything up, and i regret my brain. i probably manifested karma in the form of her suffering. not very worthy of my name indeed.

I question the worth of living if life is going to feel this way forever. Sincerely, I don't know if I can live human enough. To be human is to be with ambition. I do not want to further myself. I don't want a job. I don't want to put myself forward in the world. I isolate myself. I close off everyone around me. The truth is, no matter how worthless someone may feel, they are worth to the world what they give. I have given nothing to the world. Unemployment, refusal to talk to anybody. I am selfish in the way that I hope people will mourn me when I die. I want to be the reason somebody lives or dies for. When my life is so meaningless, I hope at least my death will ignite a fire within someone. I like to count how many people will feel the effects of the lack of my presence, but the truth is, everyone will forget me. I haven't done anything for anyone. I am a cruel, selfish individual. I know so, and I won't change myself, maybe for as long as I live. What am I if not a person, if I lack this empathy? I am not a monster, but maybe I am so meritless that I don't even exist. I made my own life hard to live. I am the only one to blame. I carry this weight and I will die with it.

it's been a couple months since my last blogspost, long enough for the new year to roll around at least! even a quarter and some days past... it wasn't really intentional, I have been writing in my journal more. sometimes I get tired of my hand cramping and getting sloppy in my penmanship, so typing is easier. i feel like i have too many thoughts in my head to articulate them properly; even more so that my thoughts roll out in an un-chronological matter, anybody who hasn't made the journey of the maze of my mind wouldn't be able to truly grasp my thoughts. nothing interesting in my life to update about, considering I am not actively bettering myself. I've been stuck in this rut for a couple years now. maybe it's been six years. i wish i could explain why, but even if I was able to, you would scoff at my lack of will. i'm self aware that i wallow in self pity, but that doesn't give you a right to dog on me. i have this terrible habit of shitting on myself before anybody else can, maybe as a defense mechanism. it doesn't do me any good, instead maybe it gives more of a reason to hammer away at me. whatever. anyways, i had my first (fake) deltopia experience! it wasn't absolutely awful, but way underwhelming in all aspects. town sanctioned event set by people who don't ever come to said town... unnecessarily wasteful, everyone could've had much more fun with the usual daygers. i wouldn't know, i didn't go to deltopia my freshman year. my first go at the forbidden bev was meh. i want to experience a real tipsy. would the feeling of a heavy head be congruent? maybe a stronger drink in more quanitity will do me better. i wish i knew. i need to work on my hypersensitivity. i don't want to tear up at every little jab at me, but it just feels like the more i let myself be known the less there is to like about me.

meow meow meow