metamorphosis

it has quite literally taken five gold days to find my password for this blog. apparently i do change my passwords and when i do, i never write them down in my booklet of passwords (that i am now regretting i bought because it's completely empty; digressing, i also have a lot of empty books because i'm afraid of writing in it and ruining it ANYWAY)

#include <stdio.h>
int main() {
   // printf() displays the string inside quotation
   printf("Hello, World!");
   return 0;
}

hello world

it actually hasn't been a while since i blogged, the last time i did so was when i was still in quarantine and was absolutely mind frackingly depressed to the point where I was just staring out the window, wondering how it would feel like if i just ceased to exist. hahahahahaha help.

i took a long time trying to figure out my passwords for this blog because i had the dreadful pleasure of welcoming (again, quite literally) the last person on earth to this chaotic mess called my blog. then again, it's not been a safe space for a while considering everything from 2012 onwards happened to be sponsored posts. then again, he's not that diabolical of a person, also he's not as bad as i thought  - so technically everything i've written above doesn't really count. right.

where was i? having someone i don't actually know (but also sort of know cause we see each other on a daily basis) find this page made me a little anxious. ok a little doesn't count - i am living breathing anxiety - but it made me wonder: what if someone else finds it - what if it becomes the talk of the town - the amount of people being cancelled for saying that one word or for doing something stupid - what if what if what if?

it was quite clear to me that I had to delete most of my posts that weren't sponsored related because before i started doing influencer based posts, this blog was my online, PUBLIC, diary. i hurried to find any incriminating evidence - ANYTHING 

so i went digging. i casually sifted through ALL my old posts and let me tell you, i have got a ton of them and they are cringeworthy. it's not as cringeworthy as my primary/secondary school days (wow if i were to ever find that i would DELETE the crap out of it) but it's marginally dreadful. and i stopped right at the first ever post i did. 

December 2010, titled a fresh start 

and here, let me just throw a little excerpt for you

"Not trying to be all philosophical here but whatever it is that happened in 2010 , the good or the bad , i'm going to throw them away into the bin and start anew , a fresh new start and stop hogging on past memories that will hold me back . We can wave goodbye to the past and face the world , fresh-faced and ready , with zero regrets , living your life to the fullest ."

obviously evelyn 10 years ago did not fully grasp the concept of the word philosophical but kudos for trying  

in any case i continued reading the post and a wave of memories hit me. oh, i remember why i wrote this post and started this blog in the first place. clear as day. i remember exactly the moment i switched on my old desktop and typed the things i did, eyes clouded with tears. 

that was the very first time i felt like i wanted to die.

it's almost ironic because that post has now aged like fine wine. i've changed my perspective about the people i've written about there (save jed, because he's my damn brother) and i think that very post was meant to be a suicide note at the start - that turned into a thank you note in the end. 

the initial title of that post was goodbye. i turned my goodbyes into a fresh start.

for the public reading, it might seem ridiculous, i mean, it really does sound ridiculous.

To my bitchy enemies that i now call nothing but shitholes , doesn't mean i start anew im going to be all nice to you , alright ? so fark you , cause you'll are nothing but effing' roadblocks ! Haha ! Until the day that i die , i will hate you , cause haters always gonna hate !  Here , have a middle finger . _l_ .

someone come collect their edgelord child pls.

but i know better. i read through the entire post a couple of times, wondering if i should delete it. there's so many silly posts right after that "snazzy day", a "list of my usernames i think you should (not) know, i even wrote about my first ever girlfriend who I thought was my girlfriend. all the posts from 2010 to 2012 are extremely doltish, they make no sense. well at least no sense to the public.

those things mean something to me. 

it's really crazy because looking through it now, I can remember (most of it) why i wrote those silly things in the first place. "Snazzy day" was just me trying to cope with the knife through my chest - a day out with my brother, the only person who i know i can just hang with who won't ask questions. 

The "list of usernames i think you should know" was essentially something i hoped my old friend would find because she told me to write a will and i did not want to so we sort of compromised. 

I can go through each and every one of this post (save the sponsored ones) and tell you about what was going on in my life at that very moment. 

i wanted to just go on a rampage and delete everything stupid off this blog. because it's silly, it doesn't make ANY sense and what if people find it and go "what kind of drugs is this kid on" -

but now, sitting here and looking through everything, i kinda just want to leave it there. it's cringey yes, but it's held meaning through and through (not all of course but still). this blog has always been some sort of safe space and now that i've found it once more (not me really but still) it feels a little better penning some of these stuff down. 

there's no point in trying to 'erase the past' as my 16 year old self proclaims. it's just pushing the past aside but it'll always come back to haunt you in one form or any another. it's always going to be there, even if you choose to erase it.

it's almost crazy how the universe does actually work. 

sure deleting it feels good but it does come back to bite you, doesn't it? 

for some maniac reason i called up an old friend of mine a few days ago to wish her a happy birthday. she's the same girl i wrote about here in this blog in my 2011s', the girl who helped me through my toughest period while my other friends were out there partying. she had stayed by me during my toughest times and i had blocked her from every part of my life, thinking that she was smothering me.

i called her up and thanked her. she probably forgot tbh, was curious as to why i called her up after years for no contact, but somehow i had to do it. we talked about life, she's married - she's happy - it feels oddly nice talking to her again. 

im glad for change.

every year it's like i shed out my skin for a new one. change is always present. it happens all the time. I keep these posts because i see growth in myself, i see change, i see metamorphosis. 

i'm not the only one of course. 

but here's the kicker;

it's crazy because i've  honestly been feeling really low these couple of weeks. no lie, i've gone back to the second worst coping mechanism in the world - that's not alcohol because the last time i did that i had 1. alcohol poisoning 2. broke my arm 3. made everyone around me really uncomfortable for weeks. 

here's the thing with feelings - i don't know how to deal with them. not myself nor others.

the hurt is actually thunderous. i feel it in multitudes, an awful bitter taste that won't wash from the mouth. why am i so profoundly affected by this? perhaps what happened showed me an unhealed part of myself, a part that i never chose to face, a part that i never got over even though i gave wistful promises to them; yes i'm over it. blindly and naively saying yes, i acknowledge it when the truth is, i've never really gotten over it.

ive always seen myself as a fortress, in fastness, behind moats, behind sheer walls studded with spikes and broken glass but in fact, my mind inhabits a punier structure, jerry-built. just stick the knife under the flap of the tent and it's a bullseye. twist it around a few times, would you?

i feel like a burden all the time now. i apologise for the silliest things. i overcorrect, i overact because i realise, in a breath and an epiphany, that im not what people go looking for when they go looking for anything to hold onto in a storm. or when the lights flicker out and die, or when the jetty creaks too threatening beneath the water soaked feet; im not that solid wall i always thought i was. i am a wisp of air, crackling into the night sky when it becomes too cold.

i want to feel happy again.

so bad.

but looking through these old posts gives me a little solace. just a bit. how many times have i looked down into that pit i've dug for myself - much too many - but i've always climbed back out of it, even as bruised as i get. maybe a friend drops a ladder for me, maybe someone else offers a helping hand, maybe i find another way to crawl out. 

this time it seems i refuse to take any of the help and just want to stay in the pit, i've realised i've been walking around with a sword through my chest for years - for the things she did to me, for the things he's ever said, for the bruises i refuse to acknowledge, for everything. that this hurt makes me who i am, and without it i'm just an empty shell of a human being. 

what will it take for me to change once more?

x

evelyn