A Lonesome Night of Writing

My parents are away in India. My dad left at the end of January and my mom left about two weeks ago. I’m home alone with my cousin and my dog, and it’s quite nice. But right now, I feel a bit lonely. That sinking feeling of loneliness is gently nagging at me from inside my chest. Part of me wants to talk to someone, but another part of me also wants to be alone. My cousin went to go sleep half an hour ago and my dog accompanied her shortly after. I’m sitting on the couch and, man, I wish I could hug someone right now. It is almost that time of the month for me though, and I tend to get period blues so I’m not entirely surprised at this feeling. But it still sucks. I suppose for now, I will do a little writing tidbit because why not? This is from earlier in the day when I was over at Gamer’s place.


“Am I fun to hang out with?” Without realizing, I had blurted out the question that was on my mind while looking up at him mindlessly from his lap.

“Yes,” he responded without looking down at me.


“No, I hang out with you three times a week just to make you feel better,” he said jokingly as he glanced down at me with a smile. I let out a small laugh.

“Okay, good, that’s how it should be,” I replied also jokingly before we both looked back at his monitor. He was sitting cross legged on the bed while I had my head resting on the pillow in his lap. With his laptop out in front of him, he was trying to program but we both were a little too mildly interested in the 90’s gameplay that was playing on YouTube in front of us on his monitor. It was warm in his room and my legs were tangled in his blanket, my arms holding onto his arm loosely. Nearby, my laptop was off in the corner with my phone and a raspberry flavored Airheads wrapper gently fluttering back and forth from the fan in the room. A 4pm Sunday afternoon – it doesn’t get more lazy than this.

“Do you think you’re not fun to hang out with?” I turned my head back up at him when he asked that after a few seconds of silence. His eyes were still glued to the monitor as I repeated that question to myself silently.

“Well, no. It’s just I don’t do much when I’m here so I was wondering what it could be about me that’s fun.”

“I have fun hanging out with you, but if you’re bored here you should let me know.” He looked down at me and I shook my head. That’s not what I meant.

My mind flashed back to the first night we met. After a round of hot chocolate, I met up with him again after his work was over and we went to his place. It was an awkward, incredibly polite meet up now that I compare our current hangouts to that November night in 2015. Upon leaving his place, I recall that moment where I walked away from his apartment down the sidewalk at 10pm. The brisk chill in the wind washing over my cheeks as I looked down at the pavement with my hands digging deep into my pockets to keep warm. Well, that’s that. I had thought to myself, trudging toward the train station. I was so sure that I was never going to see him again. So sure that it was like the other guys I met before him – a hit and run type of meet up with those empty words of “we should hang out some time again” and “I’ll text you.” I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever tell him about how I think about that night periodically from awe and pleasant surprise.

“I do have fun with you. I was just wondering,” I smiled genuinely. As repetitive as it may seem, I did enjoy doing the same things over and over with him. Though, sometimes I do wonder what it is about our hangouts that seem fun to him. It’s normally him doing his own thing while I look on from the sidelines. What do I do that’s fun for him?

“Well, you stop thinking that, you fluff nugget,” he smiled jokingly again and squeezed my cheeks with his one hand, making me pout.

“Okay,” I said in a very nasally voice, causing some chuckles to spurt out of both of us. “So, when are you free next?”

“Whenever. You pick the day.”


Nature vs. Environment

I’m supposed to be writing an essay on a sonnet, but honestly there’s only so much Shakespeare your brain can handle before everything starts to not make sense. As I’m having this break, I thought I’d take the time to write an overdue post.

I label myself as an introvert, and my mom often tells me that I have to change from an introvert to have a more successful life (that’s another point for another day), but I also hear from some people that you are who you are and you can’t change your nature. I wonder, though, just how much of your personality is naturally who you are, and what parts of your personality is affected by your environment.

By nature, I would say I’m a “docile” and passive person. That, in turn, has been the base characteristic that shapes all my other characteristics. For example, I’ve never gone out a lot when growing up because as the only child, my parents are quite overprotective of me and worried about me when I happen to be off by myself late at night or such (In gentle words, I had relatively strict parents).

Now, people say that strict parents often end up raising kids who are more rebellious or want to go out more as an adult to make up for their lack of childhood. But I think that depends on your base nature. As I’ve always been a passive person, I grew up just accepting what my parents wanted and, thus, grew up to be someone who identifies more as an introvert – someone who would rather be by themselves, someone who gets tired very easily when out and about, and etc. If someone, by nature, was not passive but rather maybe more outspoken or lively, then I think there’s more of a chance that that person would grow up to identify more as an extrovert, set aside a rebel or anything of the likes.

I think it’s cool just how much of your natural personality and how much of your environment can take part in shaping who you are as a person and continue to grow as a person. Like, how much of yourself do you think is natural and environmentally affected? 50/50? 40/60? 70/30? It’s pretty intriguing to wonder and I’m sure we all can figure that out if we take the time to trace back through our lives and analyze it. I mean, for all I know my passiveness isn’t even a personality trait I naturally have.

What do you guys think?

Feeling Like the Puke Queen


I woke up this morning with an “uh oh” thought. Asked my dad to drive me to school instead of taking the train because I feared I may puke. And lo and behold, halfway through the drive I puked in the plastic bag I was clutching onto for dear life.

It was amusing because my dad brought along our dog (I’ll call him fluffy), and shortly after I threw up he asked me to take a picture of fluffy because he looked so cute in the back poking his head out the window. I gave my dad an “are you serious” glance before half heartedly taking pics of my dog. Granted, fluffy did look cute. Whenever the wind blows in his face he looks like Chewbacca.

Anywho, I figured maybe the cause of my puking was my birth control (I started that to help regulate my irregular periods), but both my parents at home stated that they too were feeling nauseous. Neither seemed bad enough that they were gonna hurl, but still it leads me to think maybe the cause was not my birth control but something else. Maybe something in the food last night or whatever else. Not to mention it’s been over a month and a half since I started my birth control. Is it possible I’m still having side effects?

Although, funnily enough first time I took birth control I puked the next morning too right before this exact same English class. I could have skipped and stayed home today, but I already missed a class last week so I couldn’t skip a second time in a row. Even if it may be for a legitimate reason.

Currently, I’m in class. It’s work day and everyone’s silently working on their projects while I’m typing away on my blog. I didn’t know it was going to be a work day so I didn’t bring anything to work on.

Really wanna go get some crackers though, I’m starting to get hungry despite also being a little nauseous.

Well, hope I get better before noon or so. Have a great rest of the day everyone!

Mellow, Empty Evenings

I find myself being bored quite often lately. Normally, I look forward to crawling into bed and being on my laptop or grabbing a book and reading, and I still do! But when I’m in bed, I just suddenly sit there staring at my laptop or at the wall like “… now what.”

It’s like I don’t have the interest or motivation to do what I normally enjoy doing. I try to think of other things to do, but when I do I’m just like “eh… no…” For a while now I’ve noticed that I tend to sit in bed and stare off into space because everything else is boring.

Could you believe it, I don’t even feel like listening to music anymore. I’ll try to play music to get into the groove maybe, but I turn it off after a couple minutes (if not immediately). I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t even feel like playing pokemon or watching netflix. Do I need to find new passions? Being bored is pretty tiresome now…

I noticed my temper is getting worse now too. I snap more easily or make more sassy retorts to my mom and/or get annoyed faster. I don’t mean to… but I can’t help it. My short temper’s getting worse. I guess for a while now, my whole mood is just “sigh” and all mellow and neutral.

Maybe my job is wearing me out too, ’cause I sometimes don’t feel like responding to my parents if they consistently ask me questions or I respond in a sort of exasperated way. I guess I’m too tired to respond like that.

Hopefully this phase passes. I would like to actually do things to pass the time… Heck, I’m even considering going into work tomorrow morning even though I don’t have to because I already know I’m gonna be bored as hell tomorrow.

It took a lot of effort to start writing this blog post too. Ugh. Do you guys ever get into these phases too?

Huge Meltdown

Holy shit guys. I just had a meltdown about an hour ago. So today, I wrote a post earlier about my epilepsy, and now my meltdown was about that. In one of the two english classes I’m taking, we’re reading a book called The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down. It’s about a Hmong girl who has severe epilepsy (the title of the book is actually a phrase in the hmong language which means epilepsy. Pretty cool, huh?) and she finally gets brain damage from this huge seizure she got in the hospital.

While I was reading that whole thing, I got all teary eyed and had to wipe a few tears off now and then. When I reached the parts where the parents take care of her in their home with traditional herbs and everything, I got so sad. It made me realize just how much my parents go through and how hard it must be for them to watch me struggle through school because of epilepsy. I was just like “shit man. My parents are just the bomb and my guardian angels who I myself will look after.”

My roommate got her decision from her dream college today (I’m not sure why her college and a few others are giving out early decisions this early…) and she got deferred. Which is pretty good but nonetheless she was still a bit bummed, so I didn’t want her to suddenly get distracted by a troubled girl (haha) since she was in a glum mood and needed to think by herself a bit. So I went out into the hallway and bathroom to cry silently. Luckily no one was in the hallways. My eyes were turning red and my nose, oh my god my nose… When I cry my nose turns red so that’s a huge signal for people. After thirty minutes of trying not to cry, my roommate suddenly noticed and asked me if I was alright.

I don’t know if this has happened to you guys, but often when someone asks you if you’re alright, you just break down. So yeah. I broke down. I couldn’t speak. I sobbed and wept. I have never in my life sobbed or wept. Only cry, like tears down my face and hiccuping. But damn, I was surprised at how hard I was crying. It felt good to finally let it out and it took me a whole minute (hey, a minute can be a long time sometimes) to get my voice together and tell my roommate why I was crying. I didn’t like the fact that I was “taking the spotlight” but I couldn’t do anything at the moment except tell her I was totally okay and fine. Which was true. After that breakdown and hard weeping, I really did feel better. I still got teary eyed now and then when I thought about it, and still do right now, but all in all… it’s good.

Well, I would talk more, but I have to go to an advisory meeting with my awesome girlfriends. Hope I’ll sleep well. Nocturnal me.