Pretty Little Death

Tag: love

  • Oh no, oh no, I have a friend.

    ♡

    Friendship-related clichés have no room to exist in this post.

    But please feel free to recall all that you know of and Google a bit more haha. They’re all very heartwarming, I know.

    Being neurodivergent AND high-functioning has made it difficult for me to find kindred souls and generally anyone I can actually befriend and be a friend of/to long term.

    Three months into any of my adult friendships, I would usually find myself getting sick of masking my neurodivergence and facing a very real internal meltdown.

    After which, I drift away and essentially end the friendship silently.

    Sometimes, the inverse happens. People get tired of me and the friendship ends.

    Over time, I’ve learnt to accept the realities and limitations of my social life.

    But not too long ago, an angel walked into my life and became my friend when I most needed one.

    My thoughts on this friendship are always shared with them personally and they know how grateful I am to have them in my life.

    I just wanted to say that neurodivergence isn’t a cage to keep me in and away from good friendships and meaningful relationships.

    It’s a filter that keeps out all the friendships and relationships that shouldn’t exist.

  • I’m wordless today, not worthless

    Pardon me today. I’m currently losing a fight with writer’s block.

  • Too cold for comfort, too warm for winter

    I wish

    there was

    enough silence

    for my own voice

    to stop

    sounding like

    background noise.

  • Catch a cold, not feelings

    Solo dates and people-watching are among my favourite activities.

    Recently, I sat in a café watching two young twin brothers play a Math game on their iPads while their parents scrolled through their phones in silence. I spent the entire time observing them.

    Then, quite accidentally, through the reflection in the father’s spectacles, I realised he was arguing with someone on Telegram. The boys’ mother, meanwhile, was scrolling through a dating app.

    The boys remained absorbed in their game.

    Very grateful that I no longer have to be afraid of something like that happening to me because I would neither ignore nor betray myself in my silent little life.

    This needs to be said.

    There was a time when I felt very lonely despite being surrounded by people.

    On most mornings back then, right after waking up, I felt an intense hatred for being awake and being alive.

    I would scroll through my phone’s contact list and wonder if I should reach out to the people who usually reached out to me.

    By the end of the scrolling exercise, I always arrived at the same conclusion: I had nobody to talk to.

    It’s very different now; I no longer hate being alive. I also consciously choose myself over everyone else, especially during the first few hours of being awake.

    On most days, I am up before the sun rises. Hours pass before a conversation with anyone other than myself begins. And I consciously make it that way.

    I remain a hopeless romantic, though.

    I still love the occasional cute moment of romance that catches me by surprise.

    I just don’t expect encore episodes or anything serious.

  • Laugh lines, it’s fine.

    If you had told me 10 years ago that I would spend my days laughing uncontrollably more times than I could count, I would have laughed at you.

    Because what a joke that would have sounded like to ever-upset me back then.

    So imagine my surprise when the first lines I got on my face from age were nasolabial folds — laugh lines.

    I was expecting something around the eyes from crying so much in life.

    But, it’s a no to botox and fillers (not that I think it is wrong or judge anyone who gets those — everyone gets to choose what they like).

    I just think wrinkles and lines are special. Like tattoos, they tell a story of how (well) you’ve lived. And if laugh lines are my first, I’m truly blessed.

    It is my honour to wear it like a medal. Battle scars can step aside. 

    Kthxbyegn!!!

  • This Is Not Fan Fiction.

    Random pic ✅️⬆️ Random caption ✅️➡️ And I’d give up forever to touch you

    But first, the sidebar you didn’t ask for.

    Yesterday, I realised I was battling a silent addiction.

    I sat in the office for a good five minutes before everything started feeling deafeningly louder — the silence, the loneliness, the coldness of the room.

    Without noticing, I found myself reaching into my bag for my earphones.

    My hands trembled with an urgency that felt almost ridiculous, like a bobblehead bobbing on the dashboard of a lorry hurtling down a rocky road in Western Malaysia.

    For a fleeting moment, it genuinely felt as though I couldn’t bear another second without music.

    That’s my addiction.

    Music. Bet you were waiting for a druggy confession! Hah.

    But somewhere along the way, I had definitely forgotten how to sit alone with my own thoughts. That’s not great!

    So, here I am now, trying to sit alone with my thoughts (at least until these words get read, haha).

    Here’s the not-fan fiction you’ve been waiting for

    Someone told me I was trying to gather material to produce fan fiction for my blog.

    That seemed like a request.

    I need to please my audience, but I simply cannot come up with fan fiction out of nowhere. 

    Instead, I come bearing a poem I wrote last July about a totally fictional moment.

    I’m no Edgar Allan Poe. Enjoy, though.

    July Twenty Twenty-Five

    That’s all. Kthxbye!

  • How now brown cow?

    Random pic✅️⬆️ Random caption✅️➡️ “Back in black, I hit the sack”

    It’s a say-nothing-much-and-just-be kind of day ♡

    Kthxbyeee