There's nothing much left. 

I wish I could tell you how much I love myself at the moment. But... nothing. I couldn't recall the reason why I've been accepting myself so much.

It feels like all those unspoken couldn't fit the case anymore.

At this moment, I realize I hate myself so much.

By how I handle my emotions, how I act around people, just my whole existence. I feel embarrassed by living, being stumped in others' life.

Nothing about me is good.

I'm not the best companion, not the chosen one.

At one time I thought being utmost success with a dream career might give me value.

People used to ask what's your dream. I know the answer, the public pride.

Not even a chance into that, all possibilities are no longer possible. Thus, my failure was present in the red carpet for me.

With that, all kind of disappointment surrounds me. I'm not good in all ways.

Still, I wish, .... not even a wish could I think of.

I ...

hope I no longer have these thoughts.

 Trembling wasn't enough. Feels like I have a weak heart but medically wasn't. I'm not approaching death rather the dagger was on my own hand. I couldn't find my salvation. To keep on living. 

Andai ada yang berkata, apa rasa putus asa. Fasa yang sudah aku sendiri tempuh. Takut, sengsara, sepi, kecewa. Rasa putus asa, now I had done it. Indeed it was scary. Masih menanti akankah ada yangh lebih buruk dari ini? Sentiasa. Rasa yang bertepuk dada. Tapi entah. Mungkin juangnya sampai disini. Tak mungkin akan ada yang terkenang. Sebab tak penting. Mungkin ada makna tapi semua ada hidup sendiri. Dan aku sendiri dah berjaya tarik makna diri aku dari mereka. Bila difikir, tak sesakit itu barangkali hilangnya aku. Nanti reda jua. 

A letter for you, the only one I had blurted the truth about the skam in dolences

     My words was true. All the feelings were transparent.

    My mistake, I kinda debating. It wasn't ghosting. Mere gap we both lost in our conversation. 

    I'm not good at this, we, I mean. 

 I had once fall in love with a dull expressive guy.

The memory of having those kinds of jittery feelings for him was wonderful. I love having those feelings for him. But not after mature-emotion-handling day.

I had confessed to him truly what my feelings was for him to let it out of my chest and focused on my career. He didn’t reject me rather he wish for us to be in knows-each-other-better friendship and asked why I hadn’t confessed back then. My expectation was rejection and I moved on, go on with life as a career woman, relationship barely in mind but will move along not until I truly think it’s appropriate to settle down. But as you see it was the otherwise.

It was fluttering at first. My very first confession didn’t turn out with me being denied and well my self-esteem wasn’t hurt that shall caused me a bit of a trauma for next confession.

What I didn’t expect was feeling trapped with whatever that I think shouldn’t started in the first place. I didn’t know how to do this. Both of us I bet. He was on the silent side. I don’t know. Probably me. I am the problem.

 The thoughts of what that matter

 It didn't get any better.

The worse keep on buttering the sorrow.

Shall one know, it wasn't easy. Being asked why you feel so. Silent engulfs, blank consciousness.  Terrifying, not knowing why it occurs, why feel so, why and why, and how. 

Living is like death. Slow, painful tranquilizer. 

Shall guess, moving on wasn't easy but have so. Adulting, for sure taking a toll. It is living.

Rising and fluctuating frequently.  Killing all the norms meaning of happiness.

Shall one know, such clear punishment wasn't transparent. Sheer death internally seems less excruciating.

Fornuisation Soute,

Sunflower Delecency

05-02-2023