Loneliness

A while back I wrote about solitude. I wrote about how I grew to enjoy my own company enough to avoid relying on other people. I have only just realized that the reason I started to like my solitude was because I had a lot of time to fall in love with it. Today I realized that the reason I distract myself with tv series like ‚That 70s‘ Show’, ‚Skins‘, ‚Misfits‘ and ‚The Inbetweeners‘ was because I lacked support from my own friends. It was comforting to watch a group of friends relying on each other and laughing when things went wrong. I have spent 2 years watching episodes about what I yearn for the most.

I have had friends come and go due to the circumstances you meet when studying at an international school. And I’ve had to leave them when moving to another country. Yet even now, when supposedly the friends I currently have are meant to give me a sense of security as they are meant to be friends for a lifetime, I feel alone. After an experience at a house party, I stopped going to them. That led to stop being invited to them. So the ‚friends‘ I had made through them stopped being people I could disconnect with. The friends that live in different countries have become harder to contact and the friends I am surrounded with don’t know how to be the way they used to be around me. Through stressful situations, I grew detached from them. And no one has reached out enough for me to feel the support I once had. I have lost a lot of people because I stopped trying. And they haven’t tried since. At least not enough. That’s another reason for why I started this blog. It became an outlet of my personal thoughts, the ones I stopped sharing. The thought of WordPress being a community always attracted me to it. I thought I could fill the space that grew within me these past few years. And I realized that as long as I wait for someone to do it, it won’t be filled. I wish to someday look back at this in my apartment, surrounded by friends, drinking wine, and sharing the platform that made me vulnerable, yet the person sharing this with them.

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Beautiful

“Also, the girls’ tournament is at the same time in the same place” he stated

“so?”

“The girls’ uniforms for volleyball are 😉, I mean they have very short tight pants”

I felt confused and surprised as the comment came after the words “I love you”

“I mean their asses will look good”

But then I felt inferior.

“But yours still wins sorry” He added to fix it. “#pervertalert”

“Please don’t comment on my body like that, especially when you’ve just mentioned other girls’ bodies”

“Sorry,I was just trying to throw a compliment. You used to like it and now…”

“No” I added with disgust. “I love genuine compliments the way anyone would. But not when its about my ass after you’ve commented on other girls with a hashtag calling yourself a pervert.”

And that’s the problem. Women are constantly ‘complimented’ by the act of comparison between the individual and the surrounding women. As someone who has lived life proving myself I am worthy of myself, and that it is enough, comparing me to other women to identify my significance is wrong. Because if I am “beautiful” compared to the girl on my left. What will i be compared to the one on my right? I, like every other person, am amazing because of the qualities I’ve gathered and the person I’ve earned to be recognised as. And commenting on someone’s physical appearance in a raw manner and made greater by adding that it is better than other girls, takes my individuality away and isolates me because you have not gotten to know the remaining people you could see as options.

I feel beautiful. I love my freckles. I love my average brown eyes. I love my subtle dimples by the arch of my smile. I love my body even in winter when it grows. But I don’t love it because these things are superior compared to other girls. I love them because they are accompanied with other features you have not taken the time to recognise.

But if you call me beautiful because i have “nicer ass than the other girls” it makes me worry that I have to be in competition with everyone else to keep you. I will from then on, fear showing you the things that make me inferior compared to said women, because I will no longer be beautiful to you.

The first time we talked, he said:

“I really like talking to you. I can’t really explain it. But you are somehow real. And mature. And smart. And fun. Unlike others.”

The last thing he said to me was:

‘But you girls are all the same. That’s what I realised. You want what you can’t have. That’s just too damn bad. And when someone finally is willing to give you that it suddenly becomes boring. Being like *name* or *name* would get me much further probably. You know what? Fuck it. I’m leaving an a year so who cares”

When I said I couldn’t return the feelings he had for me, he took what got me to smile every time. And the thing that made him want to see me smile, and used it against me to convince himself he could move on since the thing that made him stay was no longer there.

 

Something I wrote when I was 16.

When I knew he was the one

That’s when I knew he was the one

We had been silent for 2 hours after a discussion

when I mentioned: “well if you don’t know how to fix it and I can’t, we’re fucked”

to which he responded with: “what do we do now then?”

I smiled, holding in laughter and bursted.

He responded the same way

We both mentioned “this is so stupid”

to which he followed with “I love you”

It wasn’t the first time he had said it

but it meant more than I was used to.

 

-Original photograph

Happiness

Happiness 

Happiness (noun)

Good fortune; pleasure; contentment; joy.

Bliss, contentment, delight, joy, euphoria, exhilaration, glee, laughter, optimism, prosperity, content, delirium

Everything I hope you experience soon.

Don’t base your happiness on factors that you cannot control. Fall in love with places and things you can turn to. Things that will always be there. Don’t rely on people because once they lack, so does your happiness.

I’m in love with simple things. Cigarettes in summer, a cup of black coffee, walks around the city, good conversations, music in the car, crying of happiness, reading, writing, thinking, the sun and warm nights.

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I am happy because I know what makes me feel that way.

“You know what I always thought?”,  someone who once hurt me asked.

“I always thought. And I still think this to this day. Ever since you told me about all of your problems and your environment and friends. I always thought/knew. When high school was over, you probably would be the happiest out of all of us.”

“Us being…?” I wondered why, someone who temporarily ruined my happiness, felt the need to have a say in the way it worked.

“Like everyone I know and you know. Just every mutual friend or mutual people we know. Because you know what you want and what will make you happy. And once you get out of this environment, no one will treat you the way people have treated you here. You probably will be treated like a queen compared to here.

I’m being serious. You’re extremely nice and social, once you go to college people will be the same way towards you that you are to them. You will probably have so many friends and have a loving boyfriend. I honestly think you will have no drama here in a couple of years.”

We have created insignificant issues in order to feel like the level of happiness potential we are surrounded with cannot be reached. We have always being taught the manner of perfection never being fully determined. There is always room for improvement. Therefore, we focus on strategical ‘issues’ such as stride or lack of materialistic ‘value’. We need to feel as ought this isn’t it. If only we knew how much we would miss this. We would never call it ‘it’ then.

Just like we are granted with endless, minor improvements, the numerous consequences capable of pulling us from the previously mentioned chances. Stop basing your happiness in future perspectives and events.

Money is often linked to happiness. However, I always viewed happiness as a person working for what they want. I saw happened in people who had what I wanted: freedom and a minimalistic yet full lifestyle where everything counted.

People associate money to happiness due to the feeling of security and safety it provides. It stabilises your priorities. Because we have become so empty, to the point where paying the rent and buying a pair of shoes are not tasks worthy of work anymore but everything we base our happiness on.

Some are bumps we can’t be satisfied without skipping. Some are things we use as excuses. We mention our lack of common factors as an exploration of our law of fulfilment.  You shouldn’t forget how good something is in your life due to other negative things surrounding it.

We will never be happy if we wait for everything to be perfect. We will be happy when we realise the importance of a single opportunity, act, or situation on its own. Don’t stop enjoying it by focussing on what isn’t right.

If you are happy with your holiday, don’t ruin it by consuming yourself with the negative factors such as stress from work. Because they shouldn’t affect each other.

If you can’t be happy until you get a specific result: you are not happy.

If you’re not happy with what you have now: you are not happy.

If you don’t enjoy a cup of coffee and feel like you are where you want to be: you are not happy.

And that’s okay. Change whatever isn’t right. Admit this isn’t where you want to be and change it. But don’t try to convince yourself or pretend you are superficially content and think that buying something will make you happier. Because in often cases, the way to happiness isn’t addition but change.

Something is usually holding you back rather than letting you grow within yourself. And adding to your life will not get rid of that negative factor or its strength to hold you back.

-Another chapter I will keep adding on to.

Global and Vocal

Books I Want To Read in My Lifetime

These are some of the books I’ve left on my bookshelf, waiting for something to happen, waiting for something in my life to occur. To read them at a significant point in my life. Because I’ve always believed they were worth that wait. Some I’m waiting to read when I fall in love. Or out of love. For a train ride. Or a sunny day. And some I’ve looked for everywhere and haven’t found yet. But these are the books I would choose if I were to only read 20 more books for the rest of my life.

A Farewell to Arms

Hemingway

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Love Story

Erich Segal

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   Stoner

John Williams

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Animal Farm
George Orwel

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Books vs cigarettes

George Orwell

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Down and Out in Paris and London

George Orwell

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The Idiot

Fyodor Dostoevsky

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The Anatomy of Being

Shinji Moon

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Women

Charles Bukowski

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Factotum

Charles Bukowski

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7,300 days

Isabella Mente

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Eighteen Years

Madison Kuhn

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I’ll Tell You in Person

Chloe Caldwell

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The princess saves herself in this one

Amanda Lovelace

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A box of Matches

Nicholson Baker

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Fermata

Nicholson Baker

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We Should All be Feminists

 Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

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Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth

Warsan Shire

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Salt.

Nayyirah Waheed

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Bluets
Maggie Nelson

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