Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I don't feel good about what I've achieved. At the cost of scandals and failure, I've made friends, my father succumbed to giving me money, to having everyone under my thumb, and it's very unpleasant. I don't like being on top of the world. How can people find that funny? I don't find it funny at all.

They always make up any excuse to accept the fact. I mean, they do everything, they knock down expectations for whatever reason, and as a result, they fall flat. However, if it's someone who respects them, then no. They kick the guy, they do everything to him, they demean him. I was in this guy's shoes. Why? The world seems upside down.

I don't like the way things are. I went crazy with a girl, and now she's accepted me on Instagram. I was rude to a girl, and she reacted unconditionally. These are just some examples. I called my father shit, and now he's opened up. All of them in an effort to do things right, to avoid disappointing me.

Why should I make a fuss to gain respect? I don't think this is in any way a measure of self-respect; I don't like it this way. I feel like everything should have been carried out calmly, but I'm already worried that things aren't going to happen this way. On both sides, it's detrimental to my health, except that if I make a fuss, I get social approval. In other words, what I'm doing to myself becomes more unconscious.

I don't feel right. Frankly, I wasn't taught to put this into words. I was always taught to boast about it. I feel like I'm on a kind of throne from which I want to step down. I don't know how some people can tolerate being at such heights. Why do we fight to be there? It doesn't feel good at all. I feel like I'm a kind of tyrant, and justified, too. I don't know; it's a feeling that I'm being led to my own death.

When they were bad, at least they gave me the chance to escape from what was affecting my health. In this case, when they are good, the chance is smaller; I feel restrained, forced to comply, and to continue harming myself. I feel I was better off in the first case, where I saw how people, under their freedom, appreciated my respect. In this moment, when they are no longer under the same deception, I only see a downright lie, an even more selfish desire to please me. In the previous case, this is not the case.

How ironic the way things are. I, who deep down so much wanted to be one of those who had others at their feet, a whole world supporting me, find that no, that in the end, such a world is nothing more than a lie. And now that I think about it, I think it's crazy to think that there will be many who are good to you and few who aren't. I think this is a bad sign, but the opposite is true, when we act in the name of respect, justice, and also peace, which I believe not everyone knows how to navigate in such a terrain.

In short, if everyone likes us, then they're not seeing us because, in principle, not everyone has the time to see us in detail. It seems like those exceptions are miraculous because if they see us, even if it's in a detached way, in contrast to the others, it just allows them to visualize things. When a few people like us, then they do look at us, but at least they do so in profound detail, while the majority, it seems to me, usually don't see us and therefore act with a certain indifference. However, all of this is within limits; that is, I'm speaking of a good case, a case with details, of a majority that isn't violent and of a few who are so little fanatic; it can't be the other way around either. I feel that when we reach extremes, there's only so much trouble in our lives, regardless of the modus operandi of the majority and the minority.

I don't feel it's right—I'm thinking of some kids who remain distant when I greet them, and when I say goodbye, too, and I don't like that; I feel like I'm adapting to something I don't like. I feel like I'm abandoning that kid who felt others treated me unfairly. However, it seems to me to be the right thing to do because I rightly saw others' treatment as unfair when in fact it was the opposite. What else are people going to do? How many have had the opportunity to appreciate what respect is? I prefer to wander through life and find someone who, in fact, sowed such a question and reaped the same rewards. I think I should give myself the opportunity to find tremendous treasures and also give hope that it can be done to those who have been in my shoes.

I don't know why I feel like I'm thinking in a haphazard way. I can't really organize my thoughts. It just happens that I feel like there can't be a precise rule or something like that. Maybe I'm looking for ways, references, to get to know people. I feel a bit confused. I was never taught to understand how to understand Including people in my life. It was all about working with what I'd already done, with what was already there, but never forging new relationships. My parents didn't have the capacity; they scared them away. In fact, they managed to scare me away. I think my parents succeeded, or the best they could do, was to distance themselves from me, as was the case with my family in general, because I felt they wouldn't appreciate me. I don't know, I don't feel healthy, or entirely sane with these words, but well, speaking at length is a start.

I insist, everything feels confusing. I feel like maybe I'm using those filters my parents taught me to have people by my side. I feel like everything I've said, as funny as it may seem, I don't like it, I don't feel it's appropriate, but maybe it is. I don't know how to go out into the world. The successful things I have as a reference for going out into the world are people who were like a kind of wolves, perfectly selfish people who achieved great success among the masses. I feel like maybe some of that has rubbed off on me, or maybe not. I don't know, but I don't feel like I know who I am, specifically, because I feel like I haven't fulfilled my role, either with my family or with those people, but with myself.

I'm noticing that when I don't fulfill my creative goals, I don't like it; people reject it fiercely. But when I do, I feel like I don't know who I am. I don't find myself in others, and I was taught to find myself through others. By the way, I don't know when to go to a psychiatric emergency room. The thing is, there are no emergency numbers in my country, and I think that's the first thing I want to discuss with my therapist. I can't always be perfect, and I feel like I sometimes fall apart. I don't have their number and no one else to turn to. I also don't know how to manage my current situation with what I have. I know what I have is useful, but I don't know how or what things. I feel like I'm really fading precisely because of this belief that I find myself through others. Also, I don't want to create a personality, an imposed concept, because I feel it's limiting, it doesn't allow me to broaden my horizons, or well, at least not in terms of what could describe a process, a continuity.

I don't know what's happening to me, honestly. I feel like I'm more processing who I am right now, ceasing to see myself in the past.

Hey, it's me. I have a question for you all. Well, a few ones, because I soon realized I'm a very deep empath and I love flagellating myself when I feel bad for someone (not literally), and today my YouTube's been popping up with people who experience autism. Folks like @Kaelynnism on YT really helped, and while you folks probably watch her too sometimes (or don't, I don't know, I'm stupid), it really helped me see from their POV. And I feel like garbage. I'm not diagnosed with anything, besides eczema but that's not really a mental illness, is it? But I can't help but feel terrible knowing the different experiences of you guys and how sometimes very sensitive you are to things. I feel like even if I BREATHE wrong you'll get mad, and it's my fault. That's why I got some questions.

For one thing, how bad are your triggers to sound, touch, taste, smell and atmosphere? Because I know a lot of you all mask up and pretend everything's fine, when really I should be doing that because it's sad when you do it. Another one, how bad can meltdowns get, so whenever I encounter someone who is, I should run away or comfort them by shutting up? Should I always agree to your rules or habits, even if I feel bad about some of them because to you they're right and I may hurt your feelings for asking you to not do it? Should I always nod and say yes to you even when I have no idea of your niche interests, and should I never tell you mine because they're not niche enough like yours? Should I always stay quiet when I'm with you? and when you're being too blunt I should take it in, even if it hurts? When you feel pain, should I forget mine? When you tell me or do something hurtful, should I excuse you because you're mentally ill? I'm not asking this with malice, I'm asking because I feel like a prick for even having a neurotypical brain and breathing.

so, last night, I was at this party, ya know, just chilling with the crew, and boom, there's this girl. caught my eye immediately. we start chatting, she's like really into me, or at least that's the vibe I was getting. maybe it's just my mind playing games, but she was laughing at all my dumb jokes. that's gotta mean something, right? 🤷‍♂️ but of course, there's that part of me wondering if I imagined the whole thing. who knows, maybe she was just being polite or whatever.

now I'm sitting here, phone in hand, wondering if I should text her. like, is it too soon? everyone says there's this unwritten rule about waiting a couple of days, but like, who even cares about that anymore? screw it, just go for it. but then I think, what if I come off too eager or desperate or something? sounds dumb, but isn't that the kind of stuff that makes someone ghost you real quick? honestly, dating these days feels like walking on eggshells sometimes. 😒

we did hit it off, so it only makes sense to reach out, right? but doubt creeps in, like what if she's just forgotten about the whole thing? maybe she met ten other guys last night and I'm just a random face in her memory now. talk about a blow to my confidence. yet I keep going back to, she was seriously into our convo, so how could she just forget? 🤔 kinda feels like playing mental chess with myself. "dude, just shoot your shot," echoes in my mind, but easier said than done.

I remember something I heard once: "fortune favors the bold," but what if that's just some crap people say to get you to do stupid stuff? gotta admit, there's a thrill in taking action, but getting slapped with reality ain't fun either. texting her could mean making her day or just finding out she ain't really into it. better than not knowing, right? but man, the idea of staring at my phone, waiting for those dots or a non-reply, is brutal.

so, here I am, caught in this limbo, overanalyzing as usual. seems simple, just text her, ask how she's doing. casual. yet, kinda feels like walking into a minefield. not exactly a big deal in the grand scheme, but when you're 17, these things seem bigger. any thoughts, anyone? 💬 ever been in the same boat, trying to decode what’s right or how not to screw up? any advice before I hit send? maybe i’m just overthinking all this, but a push, one way or another, might just settle the madness.

i’ve been thinking a lot about how i’m the only one in my team who genuinely cares about what we do at work, and i mean really cares about the quality of our projects, the deadlines, and even the tiny details that everyone else seems to gloss over without a second thought... 😩 it’s not even that i’m some sort of perfectionist, i just believe that if we’re gonna do something, we should do it right, ya know? but lately, it’s becoming obvious that i’m the only one pulling this weight while the rest are chilling, and it’s driving me nuts; i wake up thinking about work, i go to sleep worrying about emails, and when i’m finally off, i’m mentally drained and just staring at the ceiling wondering why no one else seems to give a damn. it’s exhausting, and it’s starting to make me question if i’m the problem or if i just care way too much for a job that probably won’t even remember my name in ten years...

like seriously, i keep telling myself that i need to chill, that i need to let go and just go with the flow like everyone else, but i find it so hard to do that! maybe it’s because i’ve been conditioned to believe that hard work and dedication are the keys to success, or maybe it’s just my pride whispering in my ear, telling me that if i let go, i’m giving up on myself. but can i really keep up this pace without burning out completely? i’m 33, for crying out loud, and i’m already feeling like i’m 50 with the amount of stress i’m carrying. i see my coworkers leaving early, joking around, barely meeting deadlines, and i’m here, staying late, double-checking everything, and picking up the slack. it’s not sustainable, and it’s not fair; yet, i feel trapped in this cycle of overcaring because i don’t want to be “that guy” who lets the team down.

it’s funny, though, because when i try to ease off, when i tell myself to relax and not care so much, i get this weird anxiety, like something’s gonna fall apart if i’m not there to catch it. but the reality is, nothing catastrophic happens; the projects still move forward, the clients don’t scream bloody murder, and the world keeps spinning. it’s just my mind playing tricks on me, making me think that i’m the last line of defense for quality and integrity, but maybe that’s just my ego talking. 😅 i’ve started practicing little steps to detach myself, like logging off exactly on time, not checking emails after hours, and even taking my full lunch break away from my desk. and you know what? it feels... good. like i’m slowly reclaiming my sanity, piece by piece. it’s a weird adjustment, but i’m beginning to see that the sky doesn’t fall if i stop caring as much as i used to.

so, what about you? have you ever felt like you’re carrying the team on your shoulders while everyone else is just cruising? how did you manage to stop caring too much without feeling guilty or anxious? i’m trying to figure this out, to find that balance where i can still take pride in my work without letting it consume my life. it’s a work in progress, but i’m hopeful that i’ll get there. 🌅 maybe the secret is to care just enough, but not too much, to know when to let go and trust that it’ll be okay. i’m trying to remind myself that my worth isn’t measured by how much i sacrifice at work, and that it’s okay to prioritize my health and happiness over a never-ending to-do list. wish me luck! 🤞

When I first settled into the place next door to my elder brother, Thomas, and his wife, I felt pretty comfortable. Thomas has always been keen on mechanics and was thrilled about the spacious four-stall garage on my new property, plus the snug two-stall attachment to the house. From the beginning, it seemed my family assumed I wouldn't require all this space. Thomas started using the front garage right away, and initially, I didn't mind.

As time went by, Thomas brought over more of his belongings. Despite having ample storage on his own property including a garage and two sheds, my space started filling up. I tried to overlook this; after all, I hadn’t needed the extra space, upholding a 'don't sweat the small stuff' attitude. However, within a year, not only my back garage but also my front garage and basement began accumulating Thomas' stuff.

The clutter didn’t truly bother me until my boyfriend, Jake, moved in. Jake was quick to point out the inconvenience posed by the overflowing storage, particularly as he contemplated buying a boat or camper which we'd have nowhere to store. Gradually, I realized this arrangement might be inadvertently encouraging Thomas's hoarding tendencies, especially since I was beginning to declutter my own possessions.

Just last week, Thomas showed up intending to store two more boxes in my attic. Seeing that I’m trying to minimize clutter throughout my house, I stood my ground and refused. While Thomas seemed to take it well, the real extent of how he felt became apparent shortly after.

This weekend, Jake and I returned home to find Thomas clearing out his stored items from my back garage, preparing to place them into newly purchased sheds. His actions felt sudden and emotional, although he insisted he was fine. But after some insistance, his wife revealed that my refusal to accept the attic boxes upset him to the extent that he decided to withdraw all his belongings from my property.

Talking to Thomas' wife and my own family shed more light on their perspectives; they all seemed to empathize with Thomas more than with me. My mom, despite recently decluttering herself, and even our mutual friends sided with him, which makes me question what version of the story they've heard. Jake, thankfully, supports me, recognizing the importance of establishing clear boundaries.

The whole situation leaves me frustrated. I hate causing distress to my brother, but at the same time, I am relieved his stuff is finally being cleared out. I feel a mix of guilt for drawing these boundaries, as it's natural for me to try to please others, but I'm exasperated that everyone but Jake views me negatively for it.

I wonder how this family drama would play out if it was under the scrutiny of reality TV cameras. Would the audience see me as being unreasonable or would they empathize with my plight for personal space? Reality TV tends to dramatize conflicts, so perhaps my stance might either be seen as a heroic stand for personal boundaries or painted as overly harsh and insensitive.

So last weekend I went out on a date with this girl. After dinner we went to my house and shortly after we decided to ride around. Well, when we went to my house, I went on ahead and changed into my pajama pants and a comfortable jacket bc it was cold outside. My pajama pants were a Grey plush fuzzy soft type material and my jacket was a black fleece columbia jacket. well we stopped by the lake and I was in that outfit when she started to rub my inner thigh all the sudden I feel a hard firm grip between my legs I remember a gasp and a feeling of shock come over me as I feel her grip getting harder. while all this is happening, she is talking about my pants. it was such a good pain, but im having a hard time processing the whole situation. Why would she grab my crotch like that?

I wasn't exactly sure what category to put this story in. I'm not exactly dating these people, and the reasons for that are super complicated.

My ex, Gunner, made me feel horrible. He said he couldn't date me because of my multiple personalities, which I get, I have mood swings, but I'm pretty sure what he was experiencing was just emotions. And also because I was adopted, I was "taken out of my natural habitat and who knows what I'd do." Which was said by Gunner's mother. Me and Gunner had only been dating for a week. I had to watch him date another pretty girl, who he stayed with longer than me. Me and Gunner only lasted a week, but we'd been talking for a month. After they'd broken up, she had a similar experience, saying he was extremely racist to her, and didn't want to be with her because her anxiety was something he couldn't "handle".

I sometimes wonder if maybe it is me who is doing something wrong. I know Gunner and me just weren't meant for each other, and I know something is wrong with him because I talked to Valeria (His ex). Gunner went around saying I was a bad kisser, which I know for a fact isn't true. He just needed something to around talking about, even though he'd broken up with me because of my background...? He's not fooling anyone.

A few months ago, I was talking to this boy named Jeremiah. We were good friends before we started talking, and my sister is the one who decided I should try to get with him. We'd only been talking a week before he ghosted me, and stopped talking to me. I heard from my sister, who promised that Jerry wasn't going to be like my ex, he said he "just wasn't feeling it."

We were talking today in pottery, when he told me that he thought I hated him. The way I heal is: I totally ignore the person while I cry and be sad over them. That's just how I am. Yeah, I see that as a red flag, but I can't help caring for someone I think cares for me too.

He told me today that I wanted to have a friends with benefits situation, and his friend Ethan started yapping about it, and telling Jerry how good of an idea it was. I just sat there. I know he's just going to use me with this whole benefits thing. And the reason I say "use me" is because that's what he's doing.

I had just gotten out of talking to someone, which only lasted a week. Wow, are you guys surprised? What's the pattern here? Hmm...

This guy's name is Tanner. Tanner and I have known each other since the seventh grade. He told me he's liked me since last year, but then just on Saturday, told me he's lost feelings for me. Okay, but how do you lose feelings that fast? It was clearly lust, not love. And he's been waiting to do stuff with me for a year, it's obvious. At first, I was so happy he liked me! Then, I heard the stories of him getting with girls, and as soon as he got what he wanted, ghosting them. Did I listen? No. I gave him what he wanted... I'm sure you can image what I mean. And, he ended up leaving anyways. Then, to make matters worse, I saw him, the next day, with his hand between Cory's thigh. Holding her hand in the halls, looking at her like he looked at me. Like he really likes her. Like he really liked me.

So, when I say that Jerry is using me, it's because of what happened with Tanner. Literally a month ago, this boy whom I really liked, we "did it" but I'd only done it because I really like him, and I thought, if I did it, he would like me too. But, he didn't. It was really sad, because like everyone else, he ended up ghosting me too. Guess how long we'd been talking! A WEEK!!!

So, remember when I said it must be me who's doing something wrong? That's because of things like this! It must be my fault! I was talking to Jerry today, and he said Tanner broke things off because I'm too nice.

Guys, my love language is physical touch, and gifts. Tanner told me he didn't like me anymore, according to Jerry, because I'm too nice. I'm too nice? What? That's ridiculous. I know I can trust this source because him and Tanner are best friends.

Oh, and also, when Jerry was talking about that dumb friends with benefits thing, he said that if it did happen, he couldn't tell anyone, and that it is supposed to be secret. So, wait, he wants to do it with me, but I'm not allowed to talk about it?

It just shows he's literally ashamed to be with me.

All of this has been hurting my mental health. It's coming to a point where I feel kind of insane? And it's not like I'm doing it on purpose, I just really don't know if I can handle my heart being messed around with. It's only been a couple weeks that this has happened to me. I hate going around from guy to guy, but I'm also tired of being played.

That's not even the worst part about this.

I can't even tell anyone about this, which is why I'm glad there are sites like these...

So, we all know - lots of teens have Snap chat. I've been talking to this guy on snap, who actually just recently told me his age today. I guess it's kinda creepy because all along I've thought he was my age. He told me he was going to buy me a bunch of stuff, and that he loved me, and that we were going to get married.

Okay, so what's the problem, just block him! RIght?

Right.

I wish I could say that it was actually that simple. It weird. I know he's mentally ill, because he's 39 and I'm 15. But I just can't ignore him. It's not hurting me to say goodmorning to him, right? And besides, he listens to me. It's not like he's asked for my address, or for me to send to him, so he's not harmful. And although its really weird, and you guys probably think it's gross, its not like he's grooming me, right? And, sadly, I really like the attention. It would never work, because he's like 23 years older than me, but it's kinda nice he's the only person who hasn't made fun of me for being, well, me.

And I know he says I'm his fiance, and he'd do anything for me, and he wants to come see me in June... but I can't let him go. I do that, and I'm just as bad as all the guys at my school who are trying to ghost me. Why can't we just find people who like me for me? Who want to be with me? I want someone who wants to be with me, all the time. Who can't stand to be with out me. Who likes to hang out with me, who will let me braid their hair, laugh with them, has jokes, good style, can help me with my homework. Someone who won't leave just because, I have a good butt (Which was said by my friend Daryl who just wants to do me too) or because they just weren't feeling me, or because I'm adopted or well...

Because I'm too nice.

You see, cuz my parents are getting tired of me. They don't really care what I do anymore. But it's sad, because at these moments all I need is my mama. We found out that she might have cancer. I don't know if I'm glad, or if I'm scared. Why would I be glad? Because I was almost taken from her because of abuse. So why do I want her? Where was my bio mama when I needed her? Lynda was there for me, not Dominique. I've started taking pills again, sleeping more, smoking, eating less. I actually hate sulking around all the time and hating life. But, when you've been spit out and thrown away like a wad of ABC gum, I can't held but feel how other people treat me. And I wonder, does Cory even see how she looks? Getting with someone who does things with girls and then dips?

Or maybe she's blinded by love, like me.

Well, I'm rambling now. But you all get the point.

So what do I mean it's going to be the last?

The last time I ever said I love you ever again.

Because no one ever deserves my love.

And no one ever will.

Isn't it strange how life takes unexpected twists and turns??!!! Here I am at 31, feeling like I should have everything figured out by now, but deep inside, I keep asking myself, "Why do I hate myself so much?" You know that feeling when you wake up in the morning and the first thing that pops into your head is, “How did I mess that up again?” That's me, every single day. 😅 I mean, how unfair is it to feel so inadequate despite achieving a decent amount in life??! It's like there's this invisible rain cloud following me around, pouring down self-doubt whenever I least expect it. There's just this sadness that I can't seem to shake off.

Sometimes, I look at myself in the mirror and think, "You're such a loser." And then I remember, I have friends who care, a job that pays the bills, and maybe even a little sparkle of potential hidden somewhere deeper. 🤞 So why?? Why do these thoughts even exist?? After all, it's said you're supposed to love yourself, right? And there's this inner voice whispering louder and louder, "You're your own worst critic, buddy!" It's frustrating, but also oddly motivating because I refuse to let doubt rule my world indefinitely!! Perhaps it's time to channel this energy into something good, to actually believe in myself for once. You've got to love the irony; here I am, dwelling on negative perceptions, yet clinging onto the hope that one day I might just wake up and feel “enough” for real. Is that too much to ask?? 🤔

I’ll never shake away the pain

I close my eyes, but she’s still there

I let her steal into my melancholy heart

It’s more than I can bear

Now I know she’ll never leave me

Even as she runs away

She will still torment me, calm me, hurt me

Move me, come what may

Wasting in my lonely tower

Waiting by an open door

I’ll fool myself she’ll walk right in

And be with me for evermore

At 18, I, Sophie, have been in a wonderful relationship with my boyfriend, Ethan, 20, for a bit over a year now. Ethan is incredible—attentive, kind, and endlessly considerate. He hasn’t let me pay for a single dinner since we’ve been together! Before Ethan, I was dating Jake, 22, who ended up betraying me by secretly being with Ethan’s sister, Mia, 21. At that time, I didn't know either Ethan or Mia existed. Jake lied for a whole month, claiming that the rumors were just a bad joke gone wrong. I naively believed him.

Back then, Mia seemed nice but became hard to be around because of the spreading rumors, which made social outings unpleasant. Eventually, I drifted from my old friends and found myself a new circle, which surprisingly included both Mia and Ethan. Ethan and I hit it off right from the start and began going out more, often just the two of us. After a sweet kiss at a party, things felt perfect. I talked with Mia beforehand to clear the air and Ethan soon expressed how much he cared about me. Within two months, we were officially a couple.

The only real snag has been my brother, Jake, 23, who took the whole Mia debacle pretty poorly. Despite Mia and I resolving our differences—turns out Jake hadn't told her about me either, and she was really apologetic—Jake still holds a grudge. Ethan’s family, however, has been nothing but welcoming, treating me as one of their own. My parents adore Ethan; they see how well he treats me, but Jake gets irritated whenever Ethan's around or even mentioned.

And here's a thought: imagine if all of this drama unfolded on a reality TV show! How intense would that be with cameras capturing every awkward family dinner and each reconciliation? The drama would certainly be dialed up. I can almost hear the audience’s reactions during each revelation and each step forward in mine and Ethan’s relationship.

I never thought I’d end up here, but here I am, dreading every single morning when my alarm goes off. I hate my job. There, I said it. I’ve tried to convince myself that it’s just a phase, that everyone feels like this sometimes, but it’s been almost a year, and nothing’s changed. If anything, it’s gotten worse.

The work itself isn’t even that bad. I mean, it’s not what I’m passionate about, but it’s tolerable. The real problem is the people. My boss is one of those micro-managers who has to be involved in every tiny detail. No matter what I do, it’s never good enough. I’ll spend hours on a project, only for them to nitpick and make me redo the whole thing for no real reason. It’s exhausting and makes me feel like all my effort is pointless.

Then there’s the office culture—or lack of it. Nobody talks to each other unless it’s about work. Lunch breaks feel like detention, with everyone silently eating at their desks or scrolling through their phones. I tried to make friends when I first started, but everyone already seemed to have their little cliques. After a while, I just gave up.

What really gets to me, though, is the constant pressure. It’s like they expect us to give 110% all the time, but they don’t give anything back. Overtime is practically mandatory, but don’t expect a “thank you” or even acknowledgment for staying late. And forget about a raise or promotion—that’s a pipe dream. It’s hard not to feel bitter when you’re working so hard and getting nothing in return.

I keep telling myself I should just quit, but it’s not that simple. I’ve got bills to pay, and the job market isn’t exactly booming right now. Plus, there’s this tiny voice in the back of my head that keeps asking, “What if the next job is just as bad—or worse?” It’s like I’m stuck in this cycle where I hate my job, but I’m too scared to leave.

Even at home, I can’t seem to escape it. I’m constantly checking emails or stressing about the next deadline. It’s like my job has taken over my entire life, and I don’t know how to take it back. My family keeps telling me to just hang in there, but they don’t understand how draining it is. By the end of the day, I’m too tired to even think about applying for other jobs, let alone pursuing something I actually enjoy.

Sometimes, I wonder if it’s me. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this kind of work. Or maybe I’m being ungrateful because at least I have a job. But then I think about how miserable I am, and I can’t help but feel like there has to be more to life than this. Doesn’t there?

If anyone else feels this way, I’d love to know how you’re coping—or if you’ve managed to get out, how did you do it? Right now, I just feel stuck, and honestly, it’s hard to see a way forward. All I know is, I can’t keep living like this. Something’s gotta give.

It's more of a religious conflict within myself.

I grew up Jewish... But not Jewish. My adopted family is Jewish. But I never felt Jewish. My mom was Jewish, but we only celebrated... Loosely, Hanukkah until I turned 12. Then I asked to stop cause buying and receiving gifts was too forking stressful! Also, birthdays and any gift-giving days stopped, but that's another topic for another day.

Anyway, I like to think I'm interested in all religions and no religions at the same time. It's hard to put my finger on it. I live with my cousins now, after my mom's passing. They're more Jewish than any Jewish people I lived near in my old life/old neighborhood.

I didn't know any holidays except for Hanukkah... And honestly... I still only know Hanukkah, cause there's many Jewish holidays that confuse me. All I remember is that Jewish Challah bread is so forking tasty! Cinnamon and honey challah bread is SO FORKING YUMMY🤤! And I usually HATE cinnamon... But in challah bread... Give me all of it😋!! I also like the apples and honey holiday... Cause there's apples and honey🍎🍯! I don't really like Jewish pastries... No offense to any Jewish people... Jam ain't my thing🫠.

Also, my cousin says that one of the differences between Judaism and Christianity is that Jewish people cannot be forgiven from sinning by only God. If a Jewish person sins to God, they are forgiven, cause God is understanding. But if a Jewish person sins against another fellow human, God only forgives if the person you sinned to has forgiven you. And therefore, there is no way out of saying, "I have sinned, I have shared my sin with God, he shall forgive me" even if the original sin was cause by the sinner who has done wrong by his fellow man/woman/person.

But based on Christianity, I like the easiness that it feels to feel somewhat absolved of sins based on the fact that one shares their sins with God and they themselves feel sorry. But I still like the fact that there's more restrictions on Judaism, cause it puts more responsibility on humans rather than having God shoulder everything... God's got a lot on his hypothetical shoulders man!

Also, is God in the form of a man still? Or is God an entity? Energy? Or simply a safe feeling? That guy feeling saying... Don't go into that "haunted house" or don't drink spoiled milk, even if you think it smells fine.

Some people maybe believe in multiple Gods. I also like to believe in such things, as well as the singl God that most people believe in. It also makes sense to think that God's can be it's own entity, like the clean stream, or a mighty tree that's stood for centuries! It's interesting who one would worship something that isn't forever, but super long lasting.

I also like some of the ideas of Buddhism. How there are a few Gods that make people feel safer. I personally feel the best when thinking of setting up an alter. I haven't set up one yet, cause I'm waiting to move outta the rental home. But again... I really like the 3 main Gods... And I like the God's that represent Protection, Peace, and Health. I understand that some might not understand, and that's okay... Heck... I'm just learning about Buddhism only last month! But it's fascinating!

Who says mixing different religions is wrong? I'd totally love to put different items around my home for different religions. And no disrespect... It's because I respect and admire these religions that makes me wanna partake.

I also really like the idea of believing and worshiping ancestors... Cause they've done a sh*t-ton of stuff for us to be where we are now... Why not respect them with an alter or at least a nice photograph to show respect?

I've also dabbled in spirituality. As sage, candles, and crystals also seem to make me feel a little better. Maybe not physically, but on a somewhat psychological level. The idea of safety that such actions bring. With words like "cleansing" and "positive energy". All those things factor into why I like stuff like that too.

I even enjoyed learning, but not partaking in Hispanic deities. They're fascinating! There was one... Or maybe two... I can't remember... That favored non-violent peace vs peace brought by violence. Of course they weren't as popular as the more stereotypical tough God's... But I still respect all those God's... Though personally... Human and animal sacrifices was a bit much for my liking... But hey, if it made them feel like they were safe... Who am ai to judge... Even though I personally don't condone violence.

I also liked learning about the Greek Gods and thought it would be nice to make an alter for one or two of the God's... Of course once I do more research to make sure the God's I choose got along with each other... Cause who'd wanna be worshipped with your arch nemesis😬!? I personally like Eros, since he didn't cheat or at least was able to keep it in his pants more than certain God's😑. And Psyche is also a very interesting God! Originally a human... Woo-hoo! Love wins all!! Woo-hoo! The crowd cheers!! Standing ovation for her ascent to Goddess-hood!

I don't know much about the Roman Gods, as they're very similar to the Greek Gods. And saying both Greek and Roman Gods together just confuses my sludge brain!

Also, black cats are actually good luck... According to Pagan beliefs, as well as science! Science has shown that Black cats have a better resilience in terms of survival. Unlike white cats, who usually have a bunch of medical issues. Both black and white cats are equally beautiful though. If I had the time, energy, and money, I'd get a black female cat named Yin, and a White male cat named Yang... Get it... Yin-Yang☯️!?

Anyway, overall, I think I'm in general a little confused... But very fascinated by everything.

The only thing is Cults that scare the shart outta me! But that's for another topic, and another day!

My wife and I recently took a two-week trip to Germany for Oktoberfest. I'm writing this from our hotel room in a resort on the southwest side of the country. Neither of us come from money, and we both have a bit of an alternative look—I've got a Mohawk, piercings, and nail polish, and my wife has tattoos covering about 80% of her body along with colored hair. So, we tend to stand out a bit.

We dressed up nicely for dinner—I wore a button-up shirt and black pants, and my wife wore a nice dress and heels. We showed up five minutes early for our reservation, not wanting to be late and ready to wait if necessary. We were seated and ordered different sets of courses to try a bit of everything. We were polite, used please and thank you, and asked the staff for advice on how to enjoy our meals properly.

When it came time for the main courses, our reservation was at 7 PM, and by 8:10 PM, we still hadn't received our main dishes. It wasn't until 9:40 PM that our food finally arrived. During the wait, we asked our server a few times if there was a delay, not rudely, just curious if we should hold off on more bread.

At the 1 hour 30-minute mark, I asked for the chief to see if there was an issue since other tables with similar orders and larger groups who arrived after us were already being served. When I explained our situation, he patronizingly smacked his lips and said, "Aww, it hasn't been over an hour and a half." When I clarified we had timed it, he shrugged and said, "I don't know what to say," then walked off.

All I wanted was an apology or some communication. Even if they had said, "Sorry, the food didn't meet the chef's standards," I'd have been fine with that. But nothing. When you're paying $300 per person, the least you expect is an update if your meal is delayed. Was that too much to ask?

Thinking about this, I wonder how people would react if this had happened on a reality show. Would it have been different? How would people judge the situation?

Facebook is beyond belief. You can't say anything through it. I was just talking about those feelings that are contradictory to advocating for good ideals, and it itself put it up for review. Such an extremely valuable text, it itself put it up for review. It's a question that I found totally offensive.

How could they do that? I feel like with Facebook, you can't write anything, because in principle, no one knows why it puts things up for review. It doesn't mention anything about what I published; it just leaves you at the mercy of uncertainty. I used to vent on Facebook, but over time, I stopped doing that. Frankly, I don't want to post posts like the one I made in WhatsApp groups, after reflecting, because I find it disruptive, and I like to post a lot.

Putting up with Facebook cutting off a post without explanation is harassing. You expect it to remain a post, even more so when it's barely published and doesn't say anything about it being annoying or anything like that. It takes you by surprise. You want to publish in peace, but you don't know what mistakes you made to sustain that. Besides, in such posts, I express my creativity; I'm not attacking anyone or spreading hate speech or anything like that. They're simply creative posts, nothing more, even pleasant stories, for enjoyment, rich reading, and everything is in groups, where that's what they're for. The platform is pulling my hair out; I mean, I need a space to share what I want to publish calmly, and Facebook isn't providing it, even though it gives the false illusion that it is.

I don't know if Facebook or people are worse. What I publish often seems like an attack on prejudice, a search to break molds, to make people think within intimacies that are not socially undermined, and therefore people, at least those around me, feel incapable of being receptive, even though I've heard good comments about it. Facebook is the one I find most receptive, however, despite these surprises, I didn't find it pleasant. I continue to insist that it's the worst not knowing why your post, unexpectedly once again, is being sent for review, especially after someone put so much effort into such texts, because they wanted them to be pleasant, and also exposed to a general audience. I feel it's a way of harming my creativity, I have to say it this way, of making me feel insecure when it comes to publishing.

When I publish myself, I express myself, I vent, I can't go around with fears, or checking to see if my post was deleted or not. This anxiety is exhaustive, and also unfair. I revise my texts very thoroughly, and I also like that what I write is absolutely divine for the reader, and it helps me with my writing. When Facebook sends it for review, it's like feeling like my effort is completely set aside, that such divine art is spit out after having been arduously worked on. It's feeling like the platform treats what you've done in a completely dehumanizing way. Furthermore, in the groups, it appears that the administrator will review it, and they don't agree. This, well, since they and I are strangers, barely through online contact, only triggers problems; saying that Facebook played a trick sounds like an excuse.

Facebook, more than serving as a benefit for publishing and sharing content, is becoming a completely uncomfortable platform. I'd like to discover better platforms, but I also don't want to just go changing because I've already established my life there, virtually. Besides, this isn't happening because of others, but because of the platform itself. I also feel the helplessness of not being able to do anything about it, that the platform can send what I publish back for review in a completely arbitrary way, as I feel it has done with me up until now.

I've seen more than one person complaining about Facebook censorship. At the same time, I feel a sensitivity on the part of the platform that makes readings of the content extremely superficial. However, here I am considering the potential consequences of the platform's actions, but it's a futile effort. It never ceases to appear, naturally, because I am a human being. Before, I felt safe and secure on this platform, but all I feel like doing is moving to another platform, any one, just to avoid these surprises.

At 26, I'm about to get married to my fiancé, who's 25. We've been together for six blissful years and engaged for the last two. Our wedding is set for next month and will be a modest event with around 20 guests in total, not including our wedding party, the officiant, and us, making it 33 people. We decided to keep things low-key and are hosting the event in my best friend's backyard. We even picked out simple yet elegant outfits from Amazon and allowed our wedding party freedom in their attire, only specifying a general color theme.

As the wedding nears, we've encountered a few hiccups, especially with the bachelor and bachelorette parties. My fiancé's party is all set, thanks to their proactive planning. However, my side seems disinterested. I created a separate group for them to plan a surprise for me but learned through my best friend, who's also the officiant and part of my bridal party, that there's been no discussion or planning at all. Despite reaching out to my maid of honor, who’s supposed to be organizing it, I’ve been met with silence and vague promises. She even accused me of turning into a "bridezilla" when I pressed for an update, which really wasn't my intention.

On another note, my brother, who’s 31 and my only biological family remaining, is having a hard time. He was supposed to walk me down the aisle but started backing out with various excuses, from financial issues to job obligations. After digging deeper, he admitted that attending the wedding reminds him too much of his failed relationship. He said he feels it's unfair of me to ask him to participate. I tried to be supportive, reminding him of the times I've been there for him, but he countered by saying the world doesn't revolve around my “stupid party.” This has left me deeply hurt, especially considering my own past with a traumatic relationship.

I've made every effort to keep the wedding stress-free and simple, yet I find myself questioned by those closest to me. My fiancé supports me, but the mixed signals from others leave me in doubt. Now, imagine all this being filmed on a reality show. How dramatic and twisted would the producers make it look? Who would the audience side with?

Am I setting unrealistic expectations for my brother and bridal party?