Don’t Compete With My Misery

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I know very well in trying to comfort people we need to relate to them and tell stories that are similar to what they were going through but it’s different when you try to shift the attention towards you with your own miserable story and it feels like a competition.

I tend to notice toxic people who do this a lot and I experienced this a lot as well. They try to make you feel that they understand you by telling their own problems but making it seem like what they were experiencing is way worst than yours which makes you feel pathetic by having that problem in the first place. Thinking about these types of people are the reason why most people are so conscious to talk about their problems. It’s one thing to disregard the problem on hand but to compete with it is way more irritating, like “should I be the one to comfort you instead when I’m the one who came to you with a problem? “

When your friend or family member comes to you with a problem, most of the time all they want is an ear unless they ask for advice. I know that sometimes we have nothing to say when someone comes to us with a problem and that’s okay just be there for them, you don’t need to reply. They just need to release their frustrations to someone, they don’t need for you to tell them that their problems are not real, they don’t need to hear your problems as well at the same time unless they ask for you to share it. We all need to learn to hear and just listen, and not to hear and reply.


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Lost Writings | 12 – A Momentary Enlightenment

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A Momentary Enlightenment

A new chapter begins
I’m embarking on this trip
and I’m riding towards the sun
with my hands up in the air,
for once I have nothing to fear.
This life was never meant to be
as easy like I wanted it to be.
I was a fool for the way I think
but now I see it all–
I see all the links. I see it all clear.


I wrote a bunch of poetry back in 2017, it was all over the place. So, I finally retrieved it from my old broken laptop and some were from my old journal pages that I may have forgotten about.


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Missing Muse

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It’s all painted in white, everything is clear.
Colorful painted walls suddenly disappeared,
along with the calmness of her mind and heart
comes with the emptiness of her vision and art.

Plants bloom after being watered down by rain,
too long under the sun, now she misses the pain.
Grew a garden in this once unkempt landscape,
built up a fence around it, now she wants to escape.

She had the peace of mind that she once craved
but pouring herself in a canvas, she was saved.
It was lost the moment she found her tranquility,
searching for can of paints, instead found anxiety.


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Lost Writings | 12 – Mornings Turned To Mourning

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MORNINGS TURNED TO MOURNING

The ray of the sun’s light is not too bright to pass through this thick fabric curtain and the morning comes but it does not shine in the other side of the window. Until the sun has to set, the bed is still yet to be vacated. Awake through the night and through the dawn with no light, just a debilitated psyche to perceive the misty surroundings— searching for a dash of light and pulling all the threads of this thick fabric. Restless mind through the dark, not even a glint came through out of all the sunrises and mornings. Supposed hopeful journeys and new beginnings led to wasted life and daily mourning.


I wrote a bunch of poetry back in 2017, it was all over the place. So, I finally retrieved it from my old broken laptop and some were from my old journal pages that I may have forgotten about.


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Emotionless

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Mixed sensation building up from the inside,
never letting it out and trying so hard to hide
the sign of weakness coming from within.
Stone face, ungrateful tone that I don’t mean.

I’m catching up to my core who’s miles ahead
but everyone perceives that I’m hostile instead.
Terrified to cause a scene but wanting to be seen.
Afraid to be too loud but wanting someone to listen.

I have rambled words and feelings inside of me.
Instead, I let out an odd side of how it’s ought to be.
It’s all in my head thinking how I made such a mess
of myself that I became a machine, and emotionless.


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