GIRL SPEAKS: “riddle wrapped in a mystery inside a bitch”

as a kid, i felt like my life was defined by competition – who was smarter, more talented, who was prettier, skinnier than me. at times, i still find myself defensive because my childhood was painted with so much inferiority and it felt like i always had the short end of the stick.

if i dont stick up for myself, who the fuck will?

no one in this life is perfect and maybe thats just that – its life itself; messy, unpredictable, and so completely fucking out of control.

we search for truth, for answers, and as much as we deny it, the unknown scares the shit out of us. so honestly, whats the point of it all?

whats the point in being a good person, in wearing your heart on your sleeve, if life continues to kick you in the ass no matter how much effort you put forth?

whats the point in putting forth kindness and positivity when karma turns a blind eye to the injustice and those whove wronged you just get away, scott-free? the wrongs are never made right and people are riddled with lies and empty promises; the only guarantee is the inescapable disappointment in the universe as a whole.

i dont need anyone coming to my rescue. i believe im fully capable of taking care of my own shit – ill fight my battles alone, simmer alone in my hatred for all those whove wronged me.

i dont need anything from anyone, and i dont owe anyone a single fucking thing.

but i feel like the world owes me; for all thats taken and lost, for the lack of signs or direction, for putting my soul in this body and this brain, for forcing me to deal with shitty people who still live in my mind rentfree.

nothing lasts forever – not you, not me, not this shitty ass universe that is on a mission to welcome us all to the dark side.

maybe none of it – nothing – even matters (everything and everyones temporary anyway). my default is just angst and recklessness, the inability to forget and forgive and the inability to let go.

if this were a competition, id be taking the prize for angry, bitter bitch. years of pent up resentment – thats what i hold.

i hate my ex-best friend who ive known since we were in preschool, who was always trying to one up me as we rounded the corner into high school, the type a kind of asshole whod push me to tell her my test scores even though she knew i had failed.

i hate the first boy who decimated my faith and trust in humanity (its been almost a decade and i still dream of the day he gets run over by a bus).

i hate my ex-dogsitter (“friend”), who would always remind me how much skinnier she was compared to me and wouldnt shut the fuck up about how “tiny” she was. she knew i struggled with body image, but she just had to push me to my breaking point in which ive opted to skip meals for the spirit of competition. if only she could see me now, the drastic weight loss – i just survive, barely eating unless stoned and feeding off pills for sustenance (and sanity).

i guess i always feel like i have something i need to prove to show that im worthy. im tired of trying, to vouch for myself and show im capable.

ive made my peace with letting people go – its not so difficult when you dont really let them in to begin with. letting go of the situations and learning to forgive – now thats out of the question (even if it destroys me from the inside).

in the end of the day, maybe im just “a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside a bitch.”

and im okay with that. being a “good person” has never lead to anything but hurt and betrayal anyway.

nothing lasts forever, and there is no point in supporting and tiptoeing around people who dont have a place in your life when there was never a silver lining to begin with.

GFY, fleur

GIRL WITH REFLECTIONS: a confession

if i thought 2021 was disturbing, i dont even know what to call 2022. a nightmare from hell? a shitshow? a wakeup call that were all supposed to be fucking miserable in this lifetime and all we can do is to learn to live with this heaviness?

i dont even FUCKING know at this point.

in retrospect, maybe 2021 wasnt as horrible as i had made it out to be – a depressing exaggeration of one-sided fights (in my head) with my boyfriend; hiding in my closet (literally), my refuge and safe haven from this unkind world; a belief that happiness is fleeting, an unattainable goal that we blindly chase with a false sense that we would ever achieve said “happiness.”

maybe 2021 wasnt as horrible as i had thought (maybe i would have posted more if “fun” was absolutely nonexistent in my life or maybe its the benzos that have literally obliterated my short-term memory, which recognizes sadness and anger more than the positive emotions). for someone whos cherished memories and feeling for all my life (heart on my sleeve or whatever BS), its ironic how much ive induced my own amnesia (is this my heaven or hell?).

in times of loneliness and trauma, my first instinct had always been to write in order to release those toxic, bottled up emotions that live rent free in my little low IQ mind. maybe i have nothing left to say anymore, or i realize that my words dont matter.

i let my thoughts rot, letting them devour my braincells as i weep to myself in a corner – and it doesnt fucking matter.

so today i take relief in klonopin, to make myself more of a smooth brain, to feel less so i could be “normal” and mildly functional.

i crave floating on clouds with quiet, nonintrusive thoughts: nothing matters, nothing exists. not you, not me, just complete silence.

and lately, numbness is my only retreat – to feel absolute nothing (the cleanest feeling in the world imo), to continue existing in my dreamworld where people we have lost are just “traveling to a foreign land” and not gone (forever), fantasy fueled by pills and time-traveling for days at a time because life is fucking miserable.

so heres my question for whatever this shitty ass universe has to offer, only to collect our miseries and suffering: am i supposed to expect that each year gets worse and worse or am i a spoiled little bitch that always needs to have her way? or do i just lack appreciation or awareness for the moments as they unwind in real time, only to reflect later: “it wasnt so bad.”

its the high highs and low lows with no sense of middle ground or stability, rollercoaster of emotions torpedoing over my life.

but the high highs – those moments make life bearable. “tiny dots on an endless timeline.”

just tiny dots, endless timeline – moments worth remembering, moments well pine the rest of our lives for knowing well never get them back, moments wed rather obliterate, concealed in the shadows of our minds.

looking back, 2021 wasnt awful at all – breakdowns (yes, of fucking course) but also cherished memories with those who are still here and those we will reunite with on the other side.

im not okay. im absolutely not fucking okay, but ill plaster on a fake dollfaced smile, and when people ask me how im doing, the autoresponse so theyd not interrogate further: “im fine.”

im fine. just fine. nothing is wrong, and nothing exists.

GFY, fleur (on klonopin)