Captive Audience

 My mommy cat Rangu has been extra clingy. She's always hanging out beside me or leaning on my right shoulder. I wonder what it feels like to have someone warm to be in her place. I can sleep around, but I know the difference of real human company.

Cried twice today. Did not wail. Just teary-eyed over a sermon from Elevation Church, and now, the decision to take another benadryl pill just to sleep. 

I crave for peace of mind, but I am quite convinced that it will take this lifetime to even feel that. My mind gets scrambled just thinking of the possibility — and this is not even an exaggeration.

I have been jealous of the success of others.

I have been envious of the warmth of friends who are always available.

I have been angry over people who easily earns money and are born to privileged homes.

I have been depressed over the fact that I have nothing --- all just fleeting hints of possible joy.

I was never depressed about turning 40. I am quite confident actually that I look good in this age. I have been receiving genuine awe that I don't look my age and I cling to those compliments because those are all I have.

And my cats.

Sugar for a Pill

 I found that hanging out with musicians somehow takes away the loneliness. Though I still doubt their intentions of even keeping me company, it is better than nothing.

2nd day of the Shoegaze Festival.

Someone mentioned Washington Drama Club. Got jealous of performers tonight. I do want their applause. I do deserve a captive audience — at least a chance to let them listen.

The problem is like fireflies, I can't capture the burst of creative ideas and put them in a jar. Just one angkas ride away and puff, it is all dead and gone.

I should read more, but I have trouble even finishing netflix series that I resort to rewatching Seinfeld to calm my anxious mind. Boy, that guy is getting richer by my streams.

4:51 am and two malings later, I am writing this in hope that I can sleep without any lonely thought floating across my tired brain.

Soon enough, that benadryl pill will work its magic. 

I need money. I can't seem to have enough to buy happiness.

Hopeless Case

Nov. 25, 2022

7:44 a.m.

How much more can I take?

I just learned about imposter syndrome and maybe that's what I am going through. 

Yes I am not sure because even classifying under a recognizable disorder, I feel I am not worthy.

Validation shouldn't be expected from others but we are built that way so I learned to accept that as social beings, everything is left to judgement of the world.

I just want to feel I belong.

I just want to feel loved.

I just want to feel that I affect and inspire people more than I assume in my head.

Fuck nobody even cares about what my music is about, and we have a lot of thrash getting the attention they don't deserve.

I kept finding myself in this cycle and not by lack of trying to get out — there is a sense of acceptance that to finally be happy and be out of financial constraints and be accepted, I need luck. Divine intervention. A sudden magical plottwist.

And that's one hell of a prayer.