twiinklex ❤

Bad decisions make good stories. And I always have a good story.

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Excerpt

She meets a boy. Her ‘dream-boy’. He resembles everything she has ever wanted in a boy. And the best part is that the dream boy feels that she is his dream girl. They are made for each other. He tells her that he felt this way as soon as he saw her. He tells her that they met for a reason, that they are from the same star, that they have a connection that surpasses anything either have experienced before. She believes him because she feels the same thing, and does not listen to that tiny whisper behind her, warning that “this is too good to be true.”

 

He leaves. She loves this boy. She does not know why she does or why he left. She analyses every conversation they ever had, replaying it in her head word for word while she cries and remembers all the good memories she has of her dream boy. But he does not come back. He is only a good memory; her dream boy.

 

So she tries to move on. She tries to talk to other boys. But she compares every boy to her dream boy even though she knows she shouldn’t. These boys know that she is heartbroken. They take advantage of her because they know that when a girl is emotionally damaged, she is seeking attention to heal her. So one by one, they push her sexually and emotionally to see how far she will go with each of them. These boys do not care about her emotions, because they have been hurt themselves by their ‘dream girls’.

 

She kisses many boys, sometimes she kisses girls, sometimes she doesn’t remember who she has kissed. She goes out every weekend and it is a very rare night when she does not kiss at least one boy. She is seeking a connection like the last one she had, but even though she does realize that she cannot find a connection by drunkenly kissing boys, she likes the attention she gets and she keeps doing it. She doesn’t care anymore who she kisses. She is not brave enough to risk her heart anymore.

 

— Anonymous
22 September 2016


Don’t stop writing

Randomly decided to open and read my 2018 journal (an actual physical one) and was quite surprised at what I found. There weren’t a lot of entries, only from July to November that year, and I don’t think I have written anything offline ever since.

But I wish I had kept writing because it’s such a good refresher/record of events and memories. I was surprised to realise how much I’d written about some people in the journal, to be reminded about random upsetting happenings that I’ve forgotten about till now, and about how… honest I just was since I knew nobody would ever read it.

And there was this paragraph I wrote:

journaling

Still relevant and still hasn’t changed. I just feel like it’s so illuminating, being reminded of what I have always wanted my whole life (even though this was written only two years ago).

Actually, writing by hand is damn freaking tiring, which is partly why I stopped 😂 Like I always have so much to record down but it’s tedious!!! But somehow, it’s also where I am the most honest.

I have this blog where there are private posts visible to no one else except me, password-protected posts and public posts. And actually I also have a few other anonymous sites (lol don’t bother looking)… Oh and Word documents too. But for some reason, the handwritten journals always have the most honesty.

Someone once asked me why I like to write and ruminate so much, everything also write down. I guess firstly, it’s my way of processing things. Secondly, I am a writer more than a talker. Thirdly, I just like to record down memories in detail so that I can look back on them and remember. Fourthly, so that there are receipts and timestamps as proof, should I ever need them. Morbid but yeah.

Anyway, I should keep writing!!!