427: Kemple (Recovery)

427: Kemple (Recovery) 

Not his real name. Took it from a movie script I was reading a while back.

Kemple is a sweet and genuine guy in my grade who goes to the boys’ school. I met him in coaching school in junior high (?). I can’t remember, but he was in my year 10 classes at one tutoring place I used to go. Anyway I recently started speaking to him again. What a fun guy! Ambitious, genuine, knows what he wants, inspirational, the lot. What a good friend to have. Kemple also takes French Continuers, so occasionally we’ll text each other in French.

So wholesome. He has sweet music taste, too. Old school.

Hmm, I’m speaking too much for one day. I like Kemple. Kemple is a good guy.


~ Serendipitous


426: L’homme Dangereux (Relapse)

426: L’homme Dangereux (Relapse)

Interestingly enough he shares the same birthday with my ex. He’s changed. Gone to the gym more often, drank more often, has his own ex and share of problems. I’m intrigued by him still. But at the same time, I want to run away and never see him again.

Physically affectionate. Neat smile. Mature, knowledgeable, but still a boy at heart. The sociable loner. That look in his eyes. Never set my heart off, but set off alarm bells in my head. I’m intrigued by the darkness he hides, and the darkness that shrouds him.

I’ve had a while to think about it. I think I’m going to run away again, but sometimes he can be alluring as hell. It’s probably illegal in my books to post about it but sometimes there’s a person out there you can kiss without feeling anything for them and you can still enjoy it.

Oh my god I’m a bad person. Lol. I hope you don’t find out who it is. I am probably going to run away for good. Some bullets you don’t know to do well to dodge until it’s too late.


~ Serendipitous

425: In Memoriam (Recovery)

425: In Memoriam (Recovery)

Today, my mind wandered onto him. Everyday I spare a few thoughts for him, a ghost of my past, someone I may never see for a long time. I remember our first date. Saturday, September 17. I met him outside Town Hall. My memory is fuzzy on what he was wearing, but it caught my eye and I caught his sleeve. Or maybe my memory is fuzzy on that part as well. We walked around the city, talking about ourselves, each other, setting up foundations for this relationship we thought would last us a long time. We had lunch at a Japanese restaurant in Chinatown. He tried to pay for me but I wouldn’t let him. I think I paid for my own and he paid for his, but he definitely paid for snacks for the movie. We watched Sully together. It was the first time we’d made…physical contact, I guess? I rested my head on his shoulder. I remember our first date, but it wasn’t as clear as I remembered the day before.

Not in chronological order, but I remember looking at him as we walked around together, admiring every feature of his face, his soft smile, the gentle sheen in his eyes. Those little things I miss, but don’t shed a tear for anymore. Playfully grabbing my shoulders to steer me into a certain direction. Those little mischievous hand grabs. The snug hugs, cuddles, sneaky but passionate kisses. I miss those, but the harder I try to snatch back these memories the faster they fade. Sharing our music tastes. It is still too painful to listen to our old songs together. The feelings and sentiments I associated with those songs are too much for me, at least for now. I absolutely fucking hate Ed Sheeran’s “Shape of You”. It reminds me of what he said to me and how I knew he felt about me in the dying days of our relationship.

I forget I used to refer to him as my honey, my cuet blob, blob, other nicknames that have faded. He’s still saved as one of them in my contact list. I haven’t bothered to change it. With the sunglasses emoji. The dying embers of pain as they are snatched by the wind, exhausted by the breath of life. It’s almost as if he was a figment of my imagination, a very powerful one at that, for eight months of my life. The unlikely couple that wasn’t supposed to last. So that’s why I recoiled at the sight of us every time we passed a mirror together in H & M, or some other clothing department store. Because we didn’t seem like a good match. I wasn’t recoiling because of me. I was recoiling because of us.

I miss this part of my life, a little bit, you know? Life was good. I wasn’t. And I’m still not good, but I’m moving on well and assimilating into this new life.


~ Serendipitous

Well not really a new life. More like a new segment of this TV show called, My Life.


424: Nasty Little (insert) (Recovery)

424: Nasty Little (insert) (Recovery)

It all happened so fast I didn’t even prepare for something of that magnitude to happen and even though it all happened so fast I had one chance to stop it but I didn’t and now I’m burdened with the memories and the future and I don’t know what I lost or what I gained

I’m not losing my focus. I’m just drinking too much with the wrong people. Well, people who intrigue me. People I want to get to know better, but at the same time, people who make me feel like I want to run away.

~ Serendipitous

Coming back to think about it, it was one of my more wilder days, weeks, June, month.

423: The Second Time (Lapse)

423: The Second Time (Lapse) 

Oh my god okay today is the second time I’ll get drunk. I drank way too much way too fast. My parents don’t know.

Now I know what it’s like to live life as a young, dumb teenager. Holy fuck it is fun. Yeah fuck you blob, you know. I don’t give a fuck about you anymore, and it feels good.

I’m calling the next couple of posts or so “Lapse” at the end because I’m not in a good mental state, drunk or sober. I’m experiencing some form of depression I think. Self-diagnosed, and I don’t want meds. I find it hard to get out of bed. I’m over my ex, but my feelings haven’t caught up with me. I’m doing trash at school, but after drinking like what, 6 shots of soju, both flavoured and plain, I think I’m gonna do just fine in Trials. I’ll see. I kinda want more alcohol parties.

I’m 18, bitches. It feels good. Hello this is drunk me 1 and I am live! Whoops. This cute Korean guy my mates are friends with got me a little bit drunk. Made me take shots with them and there was this concoction, of Sprite, beer and soju mixed in one. Sprite and soju in two shot glasses in this bigger glass filled with beer. Oh god it tasted weird but the burning sensations ARE MAD. THEY ARE LITERALLY SO GOOD. Soju doesn’t taste all that bad. I drank pretty fast, not gonna lie. I didn’t want Asian flush to come on so I went to the bathroom and splashed myself some good. Went home alright, sobered up pretty quickly before I got home. Goddamn it’s all part of the experience. Feels good.

I can’t drink this much during my HSC year as well. It was a good try and like I would totally do it again but man I fear for my brain cells. I don’t really have that much to say I just feel really good this warm feeling is nice I don’t want my friends to miss out on this and I really hope it can drag me out of this depression I’m feeling. I’m skipping school because I feel like shit, which makes me feel even shittier, vicious cycle continues you know?

I have so much to say. I hope the Lapse series is finished pretty soon. I have a month to get my shit together. Actually I should’ve gotten my shit together two days ago, but the best time is to start today am I right? Yeah feels bad.



~ Serendipitous

422: June 15

422: June 15

Because well I honestly can’t come up with better post titles anymore. Well, at least for now.

Okay so I just unblocked him on Facebook. I don’t even know why, I just did. Whatever, okay.

Trials HSC timetable came out. Oh my god I have Paper 1 and Latin Cont on the same day can someone shoot my right hand? Actually it won’t be so bad objectively, we get it over and done with early blah blah but handwriting day and I don’t have my shit together right now and I’m just floating along. I’m about three months out from graduation and five-ish months until I’m free but right now I’m pretty closing to giving up entirely and wasting my seemingly non-existent potential doing something else I kind of love but won’t get paid much for and that I don’t really need an education degree for but that’s so silly of me because giving up means game over and I really feel that vibe but at the same time WHY IS SCHOOL SO HARD

So my exam block was trash and maybe I shouldn’t have broken up two weeks before but then who knows what would’ve happened if I stayed longer what, would my results still have been the same I don’t know? I’ll never know now and I don’t particularly care anymore. I guess I just have to look forward to the future and stop wasting time. And get something nice down.

I kind of want to take a literature degree. Go into teaching. Something romantic like that. But I don’t want to think like this forever. I don’t want to be depressed forever. I might need to see a doctor. I’ve never been so mentally down, so terrible, so…overwhelmed. Everything is so different now. I’ve wasted my own potential. I feel like absolute shit. I need to reach out but everyone is so busy in their own lives, too. So I am alone.

We are born alone, and we will die alone. I hate thinking that, but I know it’s true. Even if you’re surrounded by people when you are born, and the same when you die, you are ultimately coming into the world without someone mentally “there” with you. Same when you die. Yeah ok if you’re going to pass on with someone at the same time, but it’s still not the same. It’s only you and you in your head, if that makes sense?

I don’t even feel eighteen. I feel stupidly seventeen again. June is supposed to be my favourite month of the year. I fucking hate it right now. If anything, I would rather have my summer days back. Fuck I can feel it all coming down on me right now. I’m trash at life. I haven’t got my shit together. I’m not living in the present. I’m not even living in the future or the past. I’m just in limbo. Time isn’t stopping for me so I need to get my shit together but I just…can’t.

So this is how it feels to not be motivated. I’ve reverted to having to take baby steps. Just…get out of bed. Stop thinking about him, he doesn’t EXIST ANYMORE. Yes I unblocked him but HE DOESN’T EXIST. Brush your teeth. Okay you brushed ’em. Brush your hair? Nah skip that shit. I can’t remember the last time I actually brushed my hair. I just don’t anymore. So I look wild, unkempt, tired. Can you tell when a person looks depressed? Probably, I am exuberant and extroverted usually, but you can just tell when I’m down. I’m crying every second day, not because of hormones but because of life. Life is shit right now. Middle of June. Hate it. I hate how this post is shitty too. Where’s that romantic writer I know? Gone. Beginning of winter. Sometimes I need to immortalise the pain. Literature is eternal. Yeats. School. Now I’m just joining fragments of my life together trying to make sense of it. I don’t write in my journals anymore. I need to get a new one. Pack away all his gifts in a box and not open it. I made the mistake of reading over the stuff I wrote in my red Moleskine. Well, the one he bought me. I feel terrible, so young, so naive, so tragic. My story is so belittling, to me. I will probably post this quickly and go back to reading my ugly writing back when I couldn’t write so straight and just think, life was better. Oh god I can’t.

So yeah I’m not really holding up well. I don’t want to feel like this forever. I only have enough motivation to go see a medical professional if it gets worse. I felt a bit happier after dinner. Like everything was gonna be okay and I guess I needed that. People care, I know they do, because I reached out. I love people. Talking makes me happy. I miss talking to him. He’s probably studying for trials. Or gaming. I don’t know. He probably still thinks of me occasionally, even though he emotionally checked out a long time ago. The boys there are still probably trash talking me. Oh well. What I don’t hear doesn’t hurt me. My old philosophies coming back to haunt me. How I was a terrible person and never really thought about shit.

And I’m a terrible writer at that, sorry, I’ve got to work on my technique. I need a perfect story by July 24. Great. Oh it’s Angela’s birthday soon! I better get her birthday post ready. Wait, she probably reads this blog still. Lol. I still have that Snapchat story of her and Joanna. BB8 oh my god mems

I miss him. I miss my old life. Please let me return to mental stability.

To future me, I’m trying. I’m gonna get back on track. I’ll get that literature degree one day, but I have another degree in mind that seems a bit unrealistic but if I do well enough in Trials and HSC maybe I can get it. Well, not me. Maybe YOU can, for me. Don’t fail me where I failed. And pass on advice to other friends in the grades below. Don’t get a fucking boyfriend during HSC. If he makes you miserable, you ain’t gonna do well. Promise to be friends in September and if he’s still interested in you by next November it’ll be nice. If he loses interest before then maybe it’s a bullet dodged.


~ Serendipitous