say hello/ and then farewell

frank ocean always floors me. the beeping alarm at the end and the brief punctuated exhale; like, oddly enough, the unconscious tic of someone mustering up all their strength or a soft breath let out after feeling the pain of probing a day-old bruise.

[pick up your heart of despair and move on]

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negotiation: the irony

feel absolutely soul-sick and tired these last two days. sat in CR3-4 on friday for almost six hours and even the bright orange chairs and a good swivel or two couldn’t cheer me up because I was just so numb with apathy and incredulousness. I don’t want to go into detail about it because I’m so done with talking about it and giving it any more of my time than I already do, but I might actually wish I had lazy groupmate problems again instead of all this drama and utter shite. And it just terrifies me, honestly, the complete futility involved in like, not knowing if this guy is going around behind our backs and fucking us, or in just absolutely not being able to move a person when they refuse to be moved. I went to dinner with my sister yesterday straight from the meeting and got angry about it; came home and mentioned it to my mom when she called to ask how our days had been from Malaysia and got inexplicably teary about it; curled up on the couch after and called Doro to ask for a clear-eyed view; lay down and called Amanda after for commiseration and soft-voiced despair. and it was so good- I had a plan, organised options and I knew how exactly I was moving ahead.

and today was looking better until an accusation came via text and I had to negotiate between two people for two fucking hours, one of which does not know how to talk to people properly and the other who refused to talk directly to him. and then right after I got grudging agreement from them and am looking grimly upon the struggle that the following week is gonna be because of all the bad blood at this rate, my mom calls and asks why I can’t be a better fucking daughter. she had a valid point but i still could barely talk to her after it because it just came at such a terrible time, and just reinforced how fucking futile everything is. passed the phone on to my sister quickly after that but then she had to hang up soon after to hold me while i sobbed into my hands.

I’m trying my hardest and I have so little to show for it. what the fuck is the point? of anything?

fuck it

if being afraid’s a crime
we hang side by side

here’s to being stupidly optimistic and being reckless. i’ve regretted saying no enough

I mean!! come on!!!! look at everything you’ve ever done- you’ve always started in the middle, somewhere less ideal than you would have wanted it, but you’ve always come out somewhat okay. fuck it!! fuck this stupid mindset that you need to be prepped and organised and have everything just so before you can do anything!! stop crippling yourself!!!!! you stupid fuck!!!