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All the best

“Rex Orange County – Pluto Projector (slowed + reverb)”

If you were my friend,

I imagine you’d message me before I messaged you,

a question or a quiery, something a bit risky to send,

a joke or a memory, a misinterpreted comment you’d have to defend,

In the middle of the day, before lunch,

an early “good morning” text,

ask me how my day was,

ask me what I have to do next,

When I walk into a room, maybe you’d turn and make fun of my hair,

laugh that I’m, once again, late,

start a heated arguement about something completly irrelevent,

turn the class into a fully-fledged debate,

Maybe you’d look at me when we have to pick partners,

maybe I’d look for you too,

then we’d lock eyes and just know,

that we had already chosen depsite not knowing what we were supposed to do,

Your seat would be just a bit too far from mine,

enough that we’d have to project,

all while knowing the distance wouldn’t stop us,

and that we were the class’s most entertaining duo, last I checked,

I’d walk in on a casual day matching with you,

and you’d sashay and strike the dumbest pose,

and I’d waltz across the room to match your unmatchable energy,

but trip and accidently fall over you, laugh on the floor together, completly un-composed

We could talk for hours on end about absolutely nothing,

or sit in silence, our hands in each others,

I’d lie my head on your shoulder,

and without fail, someone would say something sappy about not having one another,

You’d come find me when I disappeared to the bathrooms after a test,

gently knock on the stall door and say my name,

and I’d come out with teary eyes, pink cheeks,

and without any words, we’d sit down together and cry out of pure shame,

When one of us would have bad days,

we’d ask to sit in a call together,

avoid the elephant in the room if we felt like it,

and hype each other up until we somehow felt better,

We’d never have to ask if we were still friends,

we could be apart for what is probably too long,

be busy with other things,

but find eachother again, as if the other was never gone.

If you were my friend, then maybe, we could be something like that,

but I’ll never be able to be with you in the same way,

you believed something I wish you didn’t,

and maybe thats why this seems like it’s going to end.

maybe one day.

maybe my mind is overthinking and maybe I’m just stressed,

I wish you luck if this is goodbye.

I wish you all the best.

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(ctrl+c ctrl+v)

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get bored of rewriting the same paragraphs. I don’t know if it’s me finding comfort in discomfort or if I’m just slowly going insane. Sometimes I wonder if i’ll ever really be ok. If i’ll make it out of this era and find something new to do with my life. I wonder if one day the people I actually write these things for will see them, or if they might actually take me seriously.

I wonder if people hear the words that come out of my mouth sometimes. Because I’m trying to tell them, and they just won’t listen. Maybe it’s by accident, or maybe I’m just not straight forward enough. Words from me are never as strong as they are had they been coming from somewhere else.

I have to ask myself if these people are who they pretend to be. I have to ask if it’s fun to play with me. If I’m an entertainer instead of a friend, if I’m the person you mess with to get a reaction. I have to ask if they ever had the intentions I did.

I think that sometimes I’ve sent myself down this path, conditioned myself to be treated as such. Because thats what people like. That’s why they like me.

At the end of the day, I guess it really doesn’t matter. Because no one will ever know, or hear these stupid words I string together. If they do, they will never understand it the way I wish they would. They will ask me if I’m okay and then make me feel better only to start over again. Just hit reset, and we’re all good to go again. I suppose my thinking is a paradox too, so can I really blame anyone? I love to fight the pointless fights. I guess that’s what makes me a fun person. Oh well. It’s okay if you don’t understand. I’ll have a new post up next month to explain the same thing again anyways.

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“Be there.”

“Mas Que Nada” – Rio Version – Sergio Mendes (featuring Gracinha Leporace)

Sandals and sneakers, sunglasses and sunscreen, the warm air we share as the lights of the city blur around us. Swerve around the pedestrians, my hand tugging yours as we weave through, the laughter muffling surprised voices. Cool breeze, and passing clouds playing in the summer heat, and we don’t know where we are going, but the day is bright and skies are blue and the excitement is building.

Anywhere, anytime, no plans or coordination. A quick question, and we roam in the roaring crowds, our eyes darting from each other to the clusters of people gathering, the growing smiles and the atmosphere of adventure. Graffiti and neon drawings stretch across the walls, a tapestry of energy and life, the smell of food and essense of soul. Bright oranges and pinks, a street of paint swatches, and I get to be here with you.

Never been, but our feet carry us as if we’ve lived here our whole lives, the map firmly in my hand, but used as a fan instead. Music and conversations, the livelihood of a stadium, interactions of old friends, and while we know no one, they know us like familiars. Directions and thank you’s, a bench and a breath. Tossing you the bottle and you offer it back half empty, the relief of chilled water between a close game of teases. Fingers never let go, and neither of us try to. Flushed cheeks from the heat, an excuse disguised as truth, but we already know it’s mutual. It’s just world and us, an uncalled for adventure that lasts a lifetime within a single day.

Whatever you want, whatever peaks interest, no questioning of sudden choices, because nothing bad will be bad for the next hours. Feet aching but we dig our heels in as we sprint, chasing who-knows-what who-knows-where. The heat of euphoria, the smiles of children. Never let me go.

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End the damn chapter

To the person who this story is about: If you are reading this, I want you know that I should have told you this before. It’s high time I told you about how you made me feel that day. With that thought, also know that I don’t want to hold it against you. I’m only writing this because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell you in person, so instead I’ll write it up here, and hope that you search through my blog out of curiosity someday. I need to tell you this, because if I don’t, I don’t know if I’ll be able to forgive myself for what I did.

I pulled up to the entrance 5 minutes early. I begged the line to move faster while catching my breath, as I had just sprinted from the train station. I had just come from class. I’d just barely convinced my parents to let me be there that day. I sent a message to the group chat. No reply.

10 minutes later I was in. I looked up and down the road, looking for your face. It’s fine I thought. They must have already gone ahead. I’ll just call them. It’ll be fine. The dial tone played through once. Then twice. My feet were hurting so I wandered towards the curb as groups of people past by me, laughing over the roar of the crowd. I lowered myself onto the ground and paused. Where were you guys? Maybe you were late? Maybe your ringers are off? Maybe I’ll call again.

Another 10 minutes pass. By this time, the worries were creeping onto me. You promised you would come. You promised it wouldn’t be like last time. You promised, not once, but twice. My phone buzzed, and a jolt of anticipation vibrated through me. It wasn’t you, it was the other girl. My fingers fumbled to type in the password and a neon green text message popped up:

“My parents told me I couldn’t come today because there aren’t enough people going. Sorry, I was gonna tell you yesterday night.”

I probably read through that message 5 or 6 times.

Please, no.

Don’t do this to me.

I stifled a whimper and clicked the phone off. My hands fell to the hard concrete to support me as I swung my head back so that I could see sky. It was blue and calm and beautiful, but I wasn’t trying to admire it. I was trying to keep the tears from running down my face. I couldn’t seriously be crying about this. It’s not like the world is over or anything. Afterall, you were still coming. The other girl just forgot to tell me, that’s all. We all forget things from time to time…right?

30 minutes past when I was supposed to meet you, I finally got your message. You were late. You had an appointment. It was going to be another hour before you reached. You were sorry. Okay. Okay then. That’s fine. I guess I’ll just kill another hour. It could be worse. I got up and wandered into the sea of people. I searched through the various stall until I found the ticket vendor. I’d bought my tickets in advance, so I walked up and exchanged my coupon for the large set of tickets.

This wasn’t so bad. I had tickets and there were games and I had time to kill. The first 45 minutes were fine. I’d picked up a giant Pikachu plush as a prize already, and was wandering around with it tagged to my backpack. My sister was going to freak out when she saw it. I figured I should probably save the rest of the tickets so that I could spend them with you. I sat down on a nearby bench and sent you a text:

“Hey! Are you almost here yet?”

You were not almost here yet. It was going to be an additional hour. You apologized profusely and, after typing then deleting my response multiple times, I told you it was okay.

I was not okay. Reality was starting to kick in. I was a girl, alone, wearing clothes that weren’t as conservative as I was used to, and I was in the middle of herds of people. This was not okay. But you were going to be there soon, right? The weight building in my stomach was growing. Stop it. She told you she’d be here, didn’t she? Besides, this place is supposed to be fun, so stop worrying and enjoy it. I spent another 45 minutes burning through tickets. I won nothing. I bought lunch, but didn’t eat it. I wished you were there with me.

By the time I called you, the time had shifted from 2pm to 4:45pm. On the second try, you picked up. By this point, I don’t know why I asked you where you were. I know you. Had you been on your way, you would have messaged me which train station you had reached. But instead, I was calling you again. I’m not sure if you could hear it, but as we spoke, a voice of spite found its way into my words. Something about the fact that you continued apologizing set a small fire in me. That fire wanted straight forward answers. It sneered and fed an attitude into my tone. It asked you if you were coming at all. You said no.

That was it. I walked up to the nearest stand and spent my remaining tickets as quickly as I could. I bumped into people and didn’t bother to turn back and apologize. You weren’t coming? Why was that surprising to me? It’s not like it hadn’t happened before. My mind filled with thoughts much worse than that, but I’m not proud to remember them. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to think about how much I wanted it to work out. You promised. And I trusted you. Again.

The anger didn’t last long, but I was upset for quite a while. When I got home early and my parents asked me what happened, they didn’t seem surprised. They banned me from hanging out with you alone for the next couple of months. I never told you much about that though because even after I realized that I was not at fault, I also knew that you were just as aware of it. I never asked you, but whenever I saw you after that, there was this solemn look in your eyes that apologized. I know you felt bad. So I never told you how bad I felt. I didn’t want to make you feel any worse than you already were. You recognized what you did, and that is why I wanted to stay friends with you. I’m sorry I never told you the truth about how I felt though. Communication is a street that goes both ways, and by neglecting that, I’ve caused unnecessary tension between us now. If you’re reading this, I want you to know that I’m sorry, and that I’ve forgiven you for that whole situation. I just haven’t forgiven myself for hiding from you.

Ever since then, part of me stopped trusting you. It has been literal years, and the both of us have grown into very different individuals, and yet I still don’t fully trust you. You have made up for this whole thing on many occasions, and we have even discussed how much closer we’ve gotten. But for some reason, I never let that fear go. That fear that you were going to break my trust. So, the day that you told me just how much you trusted me, I realized just how stupid I was being. By not telling you about my feelings I created this divide, this separator that is no longer appropriate in our friendship. So, with this post, I hope to complete this overdue explaination.

but. I still can’t bring myself to tell you. I’m a coward. But still, that isn’t a very good excuse. I hope you read this. Cause I can’t bring myself to tell you. I’m sorry.

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“You’ve Changed” – Memoir

From the day I met you in middle school, there was something about you. This sense of maturity and skill that you seemed to pour into everything. When you proved your abilities against me and were victorious, I wasn’t mad. I was in awe. Your were everything I wanted to be. You were my inspiration.

You were.

Whenever we had classes, I did my best impress you or to connect with you in hopes that we could be friends. In hopes that you would see something in me, and that I could learn to be someone as amazing as you.

But

You never seemed to want to talk to me. We talked, but only as much as was necessary, and when I tried to make small talk, you seemed to have a much more thought through interpretation. In short, somewhere along the line, I felt as though we would never be on the same level, and I accepted that I was inferior, and that someone like you wouldn’t want to talk to me. So I kept to myself, and admired your actions like any other person would. I thought you were amazing.

And then quarantine hit. And somewhere along those 6 months, I fell in love with me.

———————

This year, they sat down beside me in class. A sense of joy filled me, as the thought of them finding me cool enough to talk to on a regular basis boosted my confidence in myself. This person that I’d been trying to be friends with for so many years doesn’t think I’m an absolute idiot. What a relief! As the semester started, we were in close enough proximity that we began to chat when given free time, and eventually became acquaintances. Writing it down, it sounds incredibly pathetic to think that I found so much pride in conversing with this person, but that was the reality. They were the person to impress. They were my (insert a less cringy synonym for “idol”).

Being in the same class, we were often prompted to share our work with each other, and naturally, me and them shared with each other. However, within the first couple of weeks of school, it became painfully obvious how closely matched out skill-set was. In terms of the class, we were both incredibly talented, and it wasn’t only us who noticed. As people started addressing us in a similar fashion, it hit me that I was just as good as them. Me. I was as good as THEM. When I realized this, something inside me got so excited. I might actually be good enough to be their friend. Someone as incredibly talented as them might actually also view me as talented. The thought that hit me the hardest, however, was that I was as good as them. REALLY? Am I really that amazing? In that case, have I always been as good as them or did I just improve over the quarantine? Either way, I’ve reached their level. I’ve become what I dreamed of being.:)

And then, one day, it happened. I was minding my own business and working on myself, when they came up to me.

“Hey Sim, you’ve really changed.”

HUH. I’VE CHANGED? I had a million questions, but I my immediate response was a blushy thank you. THIS WAS HUGE. This person actually thought I’d developed, and more so, they liked whatever I’d changed into. Even though I don’t feel like I’ve changed at all over the 4 years of high school, they saw something in me, something that was big enough for them to tell me. I was beaming that entire day.

With that, we became actual friends. We made a group chat, and set up plans with each other and…. something wasn’t right. Ever since we became actual friends and actually started talking, something started to bug me. They weren’t exactly the idol I thought they were. And with that realization, the filter was removed and I could see reality again.

The first time I noticed it was when they made a funny comment about my work. Out of nowhere, after we’d seen each other’s work so many times, they told me that they didn’t know I was so talented. Um, thank you, but… you’ve been looking over my work for like 3 weeks now so… uh. I figured I was just being dramatic and accepted the compliment regardless. I tried to not let such a stupid thought fester. However, as time progressed, their comments felt even stranger. It felt almost as if some of them were backhanded compliments that made them seem superior to me. Knowing that we were so similar in skills I couldn’t help but notice it. I was confident in my work. Why would they say something like that. Up until now, I’ve chalked it up to them mistakenly implying something like that. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that they might have a bit of an ego.

The other thing that made me realize they weren’t exactly what I thought they were, was when they started discussions with me. For some reason, they always revolved around two topics, neither of which I was particularly fond of. At first, I would join in anyways, and make the most of the conversation. But as the same topics continued to reappear, I realized that I didn’t want to keep talking about that. It appeared as though their interests were only revolved around those two things, and as a result, made them seem a bit obsessed. I never said anything about it though as I didn’t want to hurt their feelings, and chose to tap out of the conversations instead. Once I made that decision, it occured to me that I didn’t really want to be part of the thing I’d been aiming to be a part of for so many years.

As I got to know them better, they slowly turned into “just another person”. Yes, they were talented, but I am too. Yes, they liked who I was, but I did too. Yes, they enjoyed my company, but does that really matter if I don’t know if I enjoy theirs? We are definitely still friends and we still talk, but I’ve come to the conclusion that perhaps the person I was looking for wasn’t the person I found. They are a lovely person, but my vision of them was tinted because I never really knew them. I guess my head was too far up in the clouds to see clearly. It’s a little upsetting to come to such a conclusion, but if anything, it has definitely feel more confident in myself. I no longer feel like I need to impress anyone, because I know I’m as good as I need to be. Along with this, it has forced me to recognize that even the most amazing people have their flaws, and that’s perfectly fine. We’re all human at the end of the day, and that’s part of the beauty of it. So, to that person, thank you for being such a big inspiration. You provided me with something to work towards to. You may not have been who I thought you were, but you helped make me a better person, and I’m grateful. Thank You.:)