I don’t believe in marriage.

I had my last counseling class of the semester today and in one activity I have to pair up with someone. We had a brief conversation.

“So you don’t want to get married?”

“Nah. I don’t believed in that.”

And I proceed to nonchalantly talked about my sister-in-law’s gave birth experience, then had infection with her breasts, then more surgery to remove the pus, then again she was hospitalized for more than a month now. Now, she needs boob jobs. I guess the whole thing scared me a bit.

But I guess in deep down I am tired. I am tired of relationship stuffs. I am no place to love. They creep me out, real hard. And I just don’t want to involve in all these. Or I couldn’t. I am out of love and I knew I don’t have any


Burnt out.

I’m tired, like serious mental exhaustion. Headache strikes and I can feel the heavy throbbing in my head. My eyes are droppy and I am starving but I felt like puking and nauseating. I’m just not taking stress so well.

I need to start doing something.

Day by day, night by night.

I start to lose sense of what day is it today.

I was counting the days I have before my assignments gonna due. I have like 5 assignments and I have less than 3 days for each of them and each of them at least 1500 words essay, plus an exam. To be honest, it’s really shitty.

I just need to start doing something.

Three Questions Worth Asking

Three Questions Worth Asking


The following is adapted from a 2014 National Honor Society induction speech I was asked to give to the students of Plainwell High School. Read on ’til the end for a personal challenge.  


There’s a saying in education: “There’s no such thing as a stupid question.”  Have you heard this before?  I think the intention is to encourage students to ask questions or something, but that saying is a lie.  There IS such a thing as a stupid question.  My spanish teacher can speak to this well.

Enter: Señora S.  Señora had to put up with me for a full year of Spanish . . . well actually a full-ish year since I spent most of it in the office.  Something you should know about Señora S. is that she wore a fanny-pack. Every day.  And, it became my life’s mission as a punk kid to find out what…

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How to deal with emotional pain?

Yesterday I called D out of the blue. I was in the lab and I couldn’t take it anymore. So I messaged him, saying I wanted to talk to him. It took me some time to find a right place in school and I ended up sitting at the carpeted corridor, as I couldn’t bear standing the cold outside.

It was difficult to talk to him through skype with the background sound. I could barely hear him well and I bet he can barely hear me. I told him my encounter with my therapist and my recent condition where I cry  like a baby numerous time in counseling classes (and uncountable times in public).

Admitting my emotions are difficult and slightly scary. It was difficult to explains how I feel because they are simply my feelings, my emotions and they are all inside me. They are all in my mind and belongs to me. Nobody sees it, nobody hears it, nobody can tell. They are, me.

He didn’t say much, he just gave me a little demure-ish smile, as if he felt the same, and empathized me like my therapist’s face whenever I talk to her. He did, shared some of his feelings about his family, his sisters, and his (slightly) dysfunctional interactions with his parents.

And I realized, we are not as different. My interactions with my family haven’t been, good. My absentee hasn’t been helpful. I just keep on dragging, ignoring my dad’s skype call, blocking out everything. He felt trapped too, just as what I felt.

Besides, I tried to convince him to go to a therapist too. He is as usual, nonchalantly pushes things away.

I’m not too sure what is the point of calling him at that moment I was hoping that he could ease my pain. But the truth is it doesn’t really do much.

At this lonely night, I am here staring at the clock again.

1.58am. I need some relief. And love.

Feeling inadequate.

I’m so inadequate.

That one thought I had in mind when I took my chilly near midnight walk to home from school.

My sick brain is trying to ruin my day even more.

I lose my flairs on people. Or I never had them. I’m simply not born with it.

D has once again took years to reply my concern message and his simple yet distancing reply makes me want to let myself be passive aggressive about it.

I just don’t want to look at it.

I will just let myself sink in this anger.

Why people whore themselves out?

“Why can’t these people keep themselves in their pants?”

You know, people. Somewhere along your life you might have said this before. Why can’t they stop whoring themselves out? I admit. I did that too. Sometimes I just want to call them slut. 

But today I had my epiphany. The urge of having some warm skin touch and someone to satisfy the basic instinctual desire. *I didn’t fuck someone, so to speak but the need is there. The craving is there.

They just want some attention from people. I mean in a sense they couldn’t have love from those they loved, they seek from outsiders, strangers.

Because they just want someone to prove their existence.

10 Absolutely Heartbreaking Struggles Single People Never Talk About

10 Absolutely Heartbreaking Struggles Single People Never Talk About

“Between boyfriends and girlfriends and spouses and kids and church, there’s always someone before you on the priority list. I don’t have that one person I come home to at the end of the day, with whom I share all the mundane details of my life. So I parse them out between friends and family, sometimes oversharing because I just need someone to validate my existence. I’m not saying it’s wrong that I’m not the top priority (of course family should come first). But for the perpetually alone sometimes it’d be nice to be first. Just once. Just for a day.” So true

Thought Catalog

Shutterstock / TaweepatShutterstock / Taweepat

For as long as I can remember, I’ve watched my friends pair off. Temporarily and fleetingly in high school, longer and more lasting in college, and now, permanently. Throughout it all, I’ve remained single. Too shy, too insecure, too…whatever. I got used to my role as the Single One — I was even okay with it. As an introvert, I not only like my alone time, I need it. But, somewhere along the line, I stopped just being single and started being lonely. Most days I’m both. And try as my paired up friends might, they don’t seem to fully understand what it’s like to watch everyone around you fall in love. (Confession: I’m A 32-Year-Old Virgin, But Not By Choice.) They don’t understand what it means to be lonely. So let me tell you.

1. You are nobody’s first priority.

 Between boyfriends and girlfriends and spouses…

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Therapy talk.

So I went to see my therapist as planned, and we talked.

“Do you feel like your life is not worth living?”

“Do you feel rejected?”

“Do you love yourself?”

I guess they are some of those must-ask questions in therapy session. In the sense that to make sure I won’t kill myself out of sudden.