You can ask me anything and I’ll answer honestly, but only with yes and no.
I’m scared because everyone might be discreetly sick and tired of me and i would never know and then suddenly the day would come when they decide to just get rid of me and i would feel stupid and alone because i was too annoying and too clingy. I fear i’m not that great of a friend. Sometimes i’m happy and noisy and i laugh and make jokes with people but sometimes i’m withdrawn and shy and i might snap at them at times i want to be with myself. Sometimes i think that people are okay with me so i try to keep that part of me up but then it’s always on my mind that what if they don’t actually like it. What if they think you’re stuck-up and you really aren’t their friend. What if they were just making fun of you. Worse, what if they were taking advantage of you.
This is why im scared to have a close friend.
bringing this back because important
I compiled some personal tactics and crowd sourced DIY remedies for the sads (clinical term) into a mini comic! Enjoy xoxo
I fucking hate it when you’re in such a fantastically giddy mood and then you see one simple little thing that makes you think, “oh” and then you just get this empty feeling in your chest and you get nauseous and the world just crumbles and you want to just lay under a blanket and close your eyes and fall asleep and never wake up.
And so it happened that he was my partner for a dance we were doing for class. It was awkward, sure, mostly because he barely uttered a word to me. It was moreover awkward because the shades of our shirts happened to match. But still, he didn’t talk. There were rare times when he would smile, smirk, or laugh, but never talk. It was odd.
His grip on my hand was kind of loose, and maybe that was what was building up the tension. “Come on, hold me.” I joked. He didn’t. He held my hand tightly. That made it more awkward.
plot twist: your crush likes you too
Ash Wednesday, and there was a mass conducted at school. Although I held the title Catholic as a religion, I decided to stay in my room with a couple of classmates and play poker and laze around for an hour or so. Yes, it wasn’t allowed, but who could stop a couple of naughty students who brings cards to school? Anyways, it was a heap of fun tied up with a cute little ribbon. In that room, no one judged us. I felt like the world was finally at peace. Two non-Catholics, and two who simply didn’t want to attend a mass, having fun with a worn deck of playing cards. Footsteps came, and we scrambled to hide the forbidden plaything. We pretended to be about our own businesses. One by one, other classmates filled the once-empty and silent room.
"You didn’t attend the mass?"
"Aren’t you Catholic?"
"Why didn’t you go? It’s Ash Wednesday, you know."
Remarks drowned me. Little marks of dust mixed with water marked their foreheads, formed into the shape of a cross. I did not feel guilty at all. Exasperated, though, a little. They were judging me and my beliefs, whatever may have been the reason for me not to attend the mass, right after the event itself. Talk about irony.
And then this one girl opened her mouth and I think my bubble suddenly burst. She’s a friend, sure, but her maturity level is that of a flower’s. Sometimes she just doesn’t know how to pick-up social clues.
"You didn’t attend the mass? Bad Alex! Bad Alex!" she shouted, and then she poked me like I was some pet she had owned who just peed on the carpet. At first I was smiling, but then she kept on poking and poking me and that’s when it happened.
"If I were to tell you what my beliefs actually are, you would treat me like I’m some kind of a devil spawn and never talk to me again. So shut up." I snapped. I went to my things and fixed my bag. She was silent the whole time. Later on, she walked away.
It wasn’t my intention to yell at her like that. It’s just that people nowadays have no sense of respect, even the simplest ones such as in the form of spiritual beliefs. I, myself, have some doubts about what they so-call the “Creator” who they say watches over us above the clouds and such. Yeah sure, I pray… when I’m obligated to, I guess. But I don’t find talking to someone who I don’t even know exists in the middle of the night comforting at all. I don’t find ‘asking for guidance and strength’ strengthening at all. It isn’t easy for me to convince myself to ‘put everything in His hands and everything will be alright.’ I’m sorry, but I don’t find it reassuring, at all.
I’m fourteen, barely an age to decide whether there is a God or there is not. But one thing is for sure; this God? I don’t believe. I don’t believe that a God would shun those he had made, just because their gender is different from their sex. I don’t believe that a God would leave the creatures he had made to die and rot, half-sunken in corruption and lies. I do not believe that a God would let this world be in any more chaos as it was a hundred years before I was even born. When I find a God who truly promises peace and prosperity, maybe then, I’ll believe.
I’m tired of other people rubbing in my face what I should and should not believe. I think that religion is a right, even to the young ones, and should be chosen at will. One should not be forced to carry the responsibilities of a certain religion, unless he or she is willing to do so. Please don’t tell me what to do, when to do so, and why I should do it. If I truly had a strong spiritual being, then I wouldn’t have skipped the bloody mass, would I?
Anyways, as I have said, I am young and my mind is unripe. Perhaps these thoughts are considered immature to others, but hey, I’m a human. Maybe dubbed as a fool earlier, unholy as the adjective preceding.
— the saddest thing you can ever hear (via thewonderdick)
Contrary to the girl’s thoughts, her and the boy’s minds weren’t as in sync as she thought they were. What she thought of as a sacred and rare moment to hold his hand, was only an act of faith, in participation of a prayer circle they have found themselves in, right before their little troupe of musical enthusiasts, or in simpler terms, band, performed onstage. She had thought it was sweet, how when they were suddenly interrupted by unwanted passer-byers and had to break the circle, he had kept his hand fastened to hers. To him, it was just an act of courtesy, since there was no need to unhand her for if he did, he would seem like he was trying to avoid her. And so hold hands, they did, witnessed by the Holy Presence of the Lord, wishing for luck, prosperity, courage, and guidance. And that, they received.
It was not until later that the girl had scolded herself in her mind again. He is not yours, he belongs to your friend, and your friend belongs to him. You should not think about how perfectly his sleeves were folded, or how cute he is when he is serious. No, stop that. Throughout the afternoon, she had sulked, striving to finish her unfinished artwork that was due the day before, started two weeks before, but finished within an hour, ten minutes of tango in between.
And then, she had learned the news. The call to God was heard- they had placed next to the champions, only, sharing the title with another five people with exactly the same numbers they had. Although the girl was not that strong of a believer, she had to admit, that guy up there had made two miracles in one day already. With that, she decided to focus. she tried to forget how the boy had flushed red when he saw the girl’s friend, or how the girl’s friend was grinning like a fool when the boy had flushed red.
This night, she is a mix of emotions. Happy, sad, pissed off, desperate, blissful, high, crazy, tired, but most of all, content. It was not a completely sad day, nor that of a perfect day. She no longer believed in perfect ones, for when uncovered, they turned out to be deceit and lies. Although this one would pass as sad, there were brighter things to look at than the dark one she’s been trying to hide in the corner for the past month. Believe me, I think she’s doing quite a good job.