Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I'm genuinely so glad that I started to get into art. I was making a new piece everyday, but with my mental health decline, I got burnt out. Same thing with mancala. But as of late, I have been making new art pieces and playing mancala again. I'm really happy with myself for making time for the things I enjoy most :)

I feel sad today. I miss my ex and everyone, also sad about not being able to play my genshin on a decent device! and remembered, oh I'm on the last day of my period. Don't mess with me hormones lmao

So yeah, I am here because my head is kind of noisy and I don’t really know where else to put this. I have a new girlfriend now, it has been like two months, which is not super long but not nothing either, you know. She is nice, really kind, and honestly way more patient than I probably deserve. But here is the thing that keeps poking me in the brain at random times, usually late at night when I should be sleeping. I still have photos of my ex on my phone. Not printed or framed or anything dramatic, just old pics sitting there in my camera roll, mixed in with screenshots and food photos and dumb memes. I don’t even look at them on purpose, but sometimes I scroll too far back and boom, there we are, smiling like everything was fine. It makes my stomach drop a little. I am not missing her exactly, I think, but I am also not fully sure. It feels rude to my current girlfriend, even though she has no idea. I keep telling myself they are just memories, like old clothes you forgot in a drawer. But then I think, is that just an excuse to avoid doing something uncomfortable?

I try to be reasonable about it, like a normal adult, but I kind of fail at that a lot. My ex and I were together for years, and deleting those photos feels like erasing a chunk of my life, even if that chunk ended badly and with a lot of awkward silence. Some of the photos are boring, like us on a couch, but others are from trips or random good days where the sun was out and we laughed for real. I know keeping them does not mean I want her back, but it also does not feel super clean either. My new girlfriend talks about honesty a lot, and I nod and agree, and then I feel a bit fake inside. I have not lied, but I have not told the full truth either. I once tried to delete the photos, like actually started selecting them, and my finger froze like I was about to touch a hot stove. I felt silly, like why is this so hard, they are just pixels. Then I stopped and went to make a sandwich instead. Very brave of me. I keep wondering if this makes me a bad boyfriend or just a human one.

I guess what I am really stuck on is whether deleting them is for her, or for me, or just to look like a good guy on paper. I do not want to hurt anyone, I really don’t, and I am trying to be polite to everyone involved, including past me. At the same time, I don’t want to drag old stuff into something new and possibly good. Sometimes I think I should delete them as a sign that I am moving forward, like closing a door gently instead of slamming it. Other times I think it is okay to keep them tucked away, not because I am holding on, but because life happened and it is okay to remember it quietly. I feel unsure most days, and I second guess myself a lot, which is kind of my brand at this point. So I am asking you, random kind reader, what would you do? Would you delete the photos out of respect, or keep them and trust yourself to not live in the past? Is there a right answer here, or am I just overthinking a very normal thing like I always do?

As a father of four kids, you’d think I’d have the patience of a saint by now, but that’s just not the case. The tiniest things set me off, and I hate the way it feels. I love my family more than anything, but there are days when I catch myself snapping over something completely ridiculous and wonder what’s wrong with me.

Take last night, for example. Dinner time at our house is always chaotic. Plates clatter, someone spills their drink, and there’s a constant battle over who gets the last roll. It’s the usual stuff, and I know it’s part of having a big family, but when my youngest accidentally knocked over the salt shaker for the third time in a week, I lost it. I raised my voice, and the look on her face—pure shock—hit me like a punch to the gut. It was just salt. Why couldn’t I just laugh it off like my wife did? Instead, I made her feel bad for a mistake that didn’t matter.

This kind of thing happens all the time. It’s not the big issues that get to me—it’s the little, everyday stuff. Toys left in the hallway, a sock that doesn’t have a match, a crayon mark on the wall... all of it feels like tiny needles poking at me until I can’t hold it in anymore. And when I snap, I immediately regret it. I see the way my kids look at me, the way my wife sighs and shakes her head, and I know I’m the one in the wrong.

I’ve been trying to figure out where this anger is coming from. It’s not like I want to feel this way. I don’t wake up thinking, Gee, I can’t wait to get annoyed at the world today. But by the time the day’s over, I’m worn out. Between work, bills, chores, and keeping up with four kids, it’s like my patience tank runs dry way too fast. It doesn’t take much to set me off after that.

I think part of it is the pressure I put on myself to keep everything together. I want to be a good dad, a good husband, and someone my family can rely on. But when things don’t go the way I expect—when the house is messy, or the kids are fighting, or dinner gets burned—it feels like I’m failing. And instead of dealing with that feeling, I let it boil over into anger.

Another part of it is how I grew up. My dad was the same way. He’d get angry over the smallest things—a shoe left out of place, a door left open, the TV being too loud. Back then, I swore I’d never be like that, but here I am, falling into the same patterns. Maybe it’s something I picked up without realizing it, but that doesn’t make it okay. I don’t want my kids to remember me as the dad who yelled over spilled milk.

I’ve started trying to be more aware of my triggers. Like, when I feel that frustration bubbling up, I try to pause and ask myself, Is this really worth getting upset over? Sometimes it works, but other times, it’s like the anger is faster than my logic. I know I need to find better ways to cope, but it’s hard to break a habit that feels so ingrained.

My wife has been incredibly patient through all of this. She’s the calm one in the family, the one who can laugh off the chaos and remind me to do the same. The other day, after I got upset about a broken remote control, she pulled me aside and said, “You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders, you know. It’s okay if things aren’t perfect.” I know she’s right, but letting go of that control is easier said than done.

The hardest part is the guilt. After I’ve calmed down, I think about how my kids must see me in those moments, and it breaks my heart. I don’t want them to feel like they’re walking on eggshells around me. I want them to feel safe, to know that mistakes are okay and that their dad loves them no matter what. But when I let my anger take over, I’m sending the opposite message.

If you’re reading this and you’ve felt the same way, I want you to know you’re not alone. Being a parent is hard, and we’re all just trying to do the best we can. But I also know that getting angry over little things isn’t fair—to ourselves or to the people we love. It’s something I’m working on every day, and if you’re struggling with it too, maybe we can figure it out together.

I don’t have all the answers yet, but I know this: I don’t want to keep asking myself, why do I get so angry over little things? I want to find a way to let go, to focus on what really matters, and to be the kind of dad my kids can look up to. It’s not going to happen overnight, but I think acknowledging the problem is the first step.

Here’s hoping the next time the salt shaker falls, I can just laugh it off and keep going. Because in the end, it’s not about the salt—it’s about the love and chaos that comes with being part of a big, messy, wonderful family.

I’m 13, female and I went on a website looking for someone to talk to so I could vent about my issues with my family. My family, while I love them, has flaws. My parents, even though they’re divorced, still live together in my Mom’s apartment with me and my sister. It had been a rough divorce and I’m not sure if I’m fully over it but I still have lasting things going on. My mom and dad mutter bad things about each other, mostly my dad though. Living in an apartment it’s easy to hear through the paper thin walls and his loud voice doesn’t help. I don’t know if my little sister notices or not but I hope she doesn’t. Anyway, I went on a website that was 18+ where you could talk to strangers anonymously. As expected there were a lot of weird people on there but I skipped past them and found a few good ones. I matched up with this one German guy. I live in New Jersey, USA so we’re nowhere near each other. I found it cool I could talk with someone across the world and we talked about the different countries and our lives. He told me he was 22 and I said I was 19 since the age was 18+. I probably shouldn’t have ever gone on in the first place but I was desperate for someone to listen to me. So we talked and talked. He was really nice and sweet and he listened to me and gave feedback. I told him my insecurities and he said that I was perfect the way I was and not to worry about it and let it drag me down, despite not even seeing a picture of me or anything! I felt so seen and heard. We both had cats. I had one and he had too so we talked about that and made jokes. He was funny and made me smile. So, when I started picking up on him flirting with me I was flattered but dread started to pile up. I liked the flirting, I never felt so nice like I had nothing to change or worry about. Not to mention I’m fairly socially awkward and not on the popular side in my school so while everyone started to date and experiment I lagged behind. Maybe a bit ridiculous I know but I always wanted something like true love. Or even just someone to cherish me like the guys in the books and shows.. and he gave me that. I told him I was part French but only by blood and I didn’t really know French but we still joked about it. I’m in French class so I knew a few French words and sentences so I showed him just as fun, things like how to order from a restaurant and whatnot. He said he had a thing for French girls and I couldn’t help but feel happy and the flutter in my stomach I never really felt before. The time difference was major and he had to go to sleep soon as it was very late at night, or rather early in the morning for him. I never flirted back but I did pick up on all of his. How he wished me goodnight in French, he called me hun, said specific things about comments I made that I knew he did intentionally. That problem is, I’m 13, not 19. It’s wrong and nothing will ever come of it but he doesn’t know that. I’m cat fishing him and I didn’t even mean to! I’m not sure what to do. I’ve been a genuine connection like that for so long and I feel so good around him, he said I make him smile by talking with him. But he doesn’t know I’m 13. I don’t want to let go of what we have, I’m afraid I’ll never find something like that again. I know it can never happen though. And even if I could manage to just stay on a friendly level I’m sure the feelings wouldn’t go away and it wouldn’t change the fact that I have to keep pretending to be 19. He’d find out eventually or at least get suspicious right? I couldn’t tell him, he’d be furious of course and I don’t want to lose the friendship and connection I have. I don’t know what to do now.

basically my dad passed away almost two years ago (july 18) and the only time i have visited him was when we buried him.

he died of a heart attack cause he was drunk at the beach when it was hot. he had a drinking problem for as long as i can remember but it was particularly bad the year he passed.

i remember that back then i had just started high school. between all the shit he was pulling (i wont list them but it is pretty bad) and puberty i got very hateful and even got into drugs and hanging out with the wrong people. i really hated him back then, because i felt like he was all that was wrong with the family (very untrue).

now that ive matured and healed a little, i wanna visit him. all along, i never really hated him. i love him and i hope he knew that when he passed.

also im sober too, my drugs phase thankfully didnt last long

when he was sober, my dad was a chill guy. although i didnt get to see him sober a lot, it pissed me off how good his potential as a father was.

after a while, i grew to understand the dynamics of my family that led him down this path. he did bear a part of the blame, but ive come to understand that the alcohol was just his way of coping.

when drunk, my dad once said that when he dies, he hopes i will visit his grave because he wants to bear my 'beautiful voice'.

the reason why i have gone yet is because i didnt feel ready to fully accept the fact that hes really gone and isnt coming back. i have so many regrets that i cant even list them all

i really wanna go, but i dont know what i would say.

i love you dad, if you can see me. i miss you more than i thought was possible

I've recently been asking myself why -the f*ck- am I so unmotivated? and, quite frankly, it's starting to bug me. I mean, I’m 32, and I feel like I should have it all figured out, yet here I am, stuck in this seemingly endless rut. one thing that always hits me is work. Like, seriously, what’s going on with work nowadays?! Year after year, I've watched as impossible deadlines have consumed my time and energy. It seems that the intensity only increases as I get older. Deadlines??? More like "dead-end lines" if you ask me. The pressure to perform and deliver feels crushing, and to top it all off, there’s this whole AI assistance thing now… It’s like I’ve forgotten how to do my job, and AI is just there to slap me in the face and remind me how inadequate I can feel.

Then there’s the future!!! It’s so uncertain. With AI doing everything these days, where do people like me fit in the grand scheme of things? 🤖 It's hard not to feel overshadowed. I remember when I started working - there was genuine excitement and purpose. But now? All I see are stacks of emails, projects that never seem to truly end, and an endless stream of tasks that just never fail to drain any ounce of enthusiasm I have left. How did we reach a point where human contribution feels diluted? Recently, I read a quote somewhere: "Technology is best when it brings people together." Well, sometimes it feels like technology is best when it sidelines people. 😟

When did AI become the new face of productivity and efficiency? I can’t deny its usefulness, sure, I mean, I’ve saved hours thanks to AI, but I can’t help but to remember a time when people were valued for their skills, not the speed at which they can get things done. I’m not saying I’m against progress, but there’s this nagging feeling that I’m just not cut out for the kind of change that’s happening. Am I wrong to feel this way??? I wonder if anyone else out there feels this looming sense of uncertainty about the future at work…

Sometimes, I think back to when things were simpler. A box of office supplies, a friendly chat with colleagues at the water cooler, and those celebratory Friday afternoons when everyone was excited for the weekend. There was a real sense of camaraderie back then. Nowadays? Everything’s just distant and digital. Is social interaction a thing of the past? 🫰 Maybe it's just one of those slumps that people go through in their lives, I don’t know. But all of this has made me really question not just the future of my career but what fulfillment means to me personally. After all, isn’t it possible that we’re supposed to navigate these transitions and uncertainties with grace and adaptability??? Or maybe, it’s truly time for a career change or a soul-searching sabbatical.

This is my first time doing something like this and probably the only time I only ever talk to myself when I feel down I'm in high school and I've always been the "lone wolf" that one quiet and calm kid you might see sketching or climbing a tree I don't talk much and people know me I know people but I'm not really friends with anybody I've only got one friend will call here 'Po' and lately things just feel different and off I'm not as happy as I used to be seeing them and it's probably just me so I event brought it up I'm so fed up with everything I can't vent to anyone and Po is my only friend and she's got more than enough of her own problems on her plate plus a lot from other people we're both 'therapist friends' if you will I often find myself fixing other people's lives only for them to completely ditch me months or weeks later feels like rescuing an injured animal as soon as their healed up they leave you Po vents to me about how draining it is to be around people who are depressed and down not in a mean way I get it it is draining and she's referring to her girlfriend who is also going through some stuff Po get seasonal depression and it's mid winter where I am I don't have any other friends or even people to talk to I've got a little sister who's much younger then me so why would I vent to her and honestly I wouldn't trust her either my parents aren't a option and I don't know where else to vent I'm the one who fixes everything what happens when I'm not doing great? witch I haven't been for awhile I just wish I could disappear everything is so stressful and the only thing keeping me going is drawing I'm sick of everything else my friendship with Po feels just feels empty she's moving in a few months and if you asked me last year in January I would have said there's no way we would grow apart and our friendship would totally be fine but now I'm not so sure and I can't lose her but it doesn't feel right anymore and anytime I think of venting to her she ends up telling me about how someone just vented to her and how she's glad that I feel like a breath of fresh air I'm not sure what to do my body image issues have been getting worse I find myself using the alphabet trick to stop me from crying at least several times a day and I'm not sure what to do I feel dead inside and I quit soccer which I've been doing for seven years I'm going to quit a sewing classes I've been in for four years and I'm so incredibly guilty for feeling like this when everyone else is doing bad too I just want it to go away I can't do this anymore I don't want to be the loner who's fine with never hanging out or sitting by myself and enjoying my own company 24/7 I don't trust people because I had bad trust issues before especially with older people when I was younger it took me 4 years to trust this lady and two days after I did and let my guard down it blow up right in my face and I haven't seen them in three years and honestly I don't want to I still can't believe that it felt like I got kicked when I was already down and I don't think I'm ever going to recover from that since I told myself it would be fine and having trust issues isn't healthy so I decided to trust someone and then it backfired spectacularly I don't feel like eating or doing anything I just want it to stop I hate this so much and I wish I could just be normal I'm stressed about everything I feel like I'm going mental and I'm so dissociated from life it's not even funny I'm probably gonna regret ever writing and ranting about this even though it's just on the internet where nobody knows who I am thank you for lending me an ear there is a high chance of spelling mistakes in this since I'm writing this down so quickly but genuinely thank you I'm not looking for sympathy I just really need to get this off my chest to anyone will to read

So about 3 weeks ago me and my friend and I decided to go to a pool hall well I was already in my pajama pants and a jacket (what I usually wear at night time) the pajama pants are like a extremly plush fuzzy material and the jacket was a super soft fleece I just simply enjoy being comfortable when im at home lol reason im going into detail about what I was wearing is because when we got too the pool hall everything was cool for a couple hours until my friend started talking smack to some guy well the guy pushes my friend and when he did I jumped between them and when I did my pool stick fell out of my hands and was laying on the ground. Well when I stepped between them I just so happened to be standing over the pool stick and 2 guys picked the pool stick up at the same time and racked yanked up hitting me dead in the middle of my balls I remember feeling the stick literally splitting my balls in half I remember looking down and seeing the fuzzy pants and the outline of my balls around the stick and the guy that was behind me rubbed my shoulder and said "you got a nice soft jacket on oh and your pants look soft too" and when he said that he reached down and twisted my dick while the pool stick was still between my legs i remember moaning extremly loud and grunting while he twisted and squeezed also at the same time yanking the pool stick up higher into my balls he finally let go and I dropped too my knees instantly I was extremly sore for about 3 days and my girl friend is extremly sexual and is still asking why I didnt wanna have sex for that week and she loves my pants and jacket i really dont know how too explain this to her

Robert and Diane, my parents, have embarked on the ambitious project of building a house in their hometown. They own a few property holdings, yet steadfastly resist the idea of selling any to finance their build. Instead, they have turned to my siblings and me for financial support with the reasoning that these properties will someday be part of our inheritance.

To give you a clearer image: My wife, Emily, and I are doing quite well financially. Married for two years, we've managed to secure a combined income that greatly surpasses that of my parents—by about 4 to 5 times more. While my parents hold a respectable amount of property assets, their liquid cash flow is quite low as they’re both retired. Their solution, therefore, has been to request loans from us. We've supported them financially in the past, yet here they are again, asking for more.

The dilemma is that my parents are already significantly in debt, and the well of financial support from relatives is running dry. I'm torn because, on one hand, I wish to see them achieve their dream of building a custom home. On the other, I'm realistic about their limited ability to repay any money lent, given their financial setup.

Emily stands firmly against the idea of any further financial assistance. She views it as reinforcing their decision to hoard assets instead of liquidating one for their needs. In her perspective, we should not have to shoulder the consequences of their financial choices.

So, would I be wrong to refuse lending them more money, knowing it might stall or halt their dream home construction altogether?

Imagine this scenario played out on a reality show: The tensions and differing opinions could make for quite the dramatic scene. Cameras would capture the strain between family loyalty and financial wisdom, possibly painting me either as a callous son or a prudent family man. Contestants on such shows often face public opinion polls following each episode, influencing viewer perception through snippets of intensely personal dilemmas like mine.

Should I give my parents more money despite concerns?

So umm.. I don’t really know how to put this. My dad’s been staring at my chest more often… and it’s really gross. He’s always been a “creep” and often watches vulgar stuff.. but before your wondering how old I am and all that I’ll tell you. I’m 13 and I matured pretty quickly? I look around a high school freshman? Like I’m 5’7 and I have yk.. boobs. Like it just feels weird saying this

So sometimes I walk around the house without a bra bc they hurt yk?? And my mom does the same. I mean I think it’s normal??? But anyway, my dad has a problem with staring for too long at people?? So I’ll be minding my business and he’ll just STARE. Like full blown stare with no thoughts, even if you stare back at him he won’t do anything??

So he’s been staring lower.. and I’d say I’ve been hitting puberty more.. so yk what happens. And idk it just feels so disgusting. Like the type of way I’d want to rip my skin off? I love myself but when he stares it makes me feel like a ball of sludge?

Idk what the point of this was but I just wanted to get this off my chest

A few nights back, I invited two of my good friends over for a sleepover. Both are the same age as me, and we planned to end the evening with some classic movie watching and unwinding. As the night drew to a close, and we began removing our makeup, I suggested they explore and use any of the skincare items from my well-stocked bathroom cabinet. I'm a skincare enthusiast and have a wide collection ranging from inexpensive brands to pricier, high-end products.

Shortly after, my friend Emily came out of the bathroom looking uneasy, and confessed she had accidentally dropped and shattered one of my top-shelf skincare bottles. It happened to be my SK II Pitera Essence, which cost me about $134 CAD. It's housed in a delicate glass bottle and was nearly full as I had purchased it just weeks before.

Immediately apologizing, Emily seemed genuinely remorseful. While I reassured her initially, things took a turn when I brought up the expense of the product. Emily was taken aback by the price and when I gingerly asked if she could compensate partly for it, she declined. Her rationale was that it had been an accident and since I had offered the products for use, she didn’t see why she should contribute financially. Since that conversation, there's been an uncomfortable tension lingering between us, and communication has been minimal.

The third friend who was present stayed silent and hasn’t picked a side, preferring to remain neutral.

Reflecting on this, I wonder how different the situation would play out if it were part of a high-drama reality show. Surely, the cameras would amplify every reaction and corner each of us into justifying our viewpoints more fervently. Perhaps in such a scenario, the tension would skyrocket, possibly leading to a dramatic confrontation or emotional reconciliation orchestrated by producers for maximum viewer engagement.

Should I have asked Emily for compensation, or was I being unreasonable given the circumstances? How do folks generally handle mishaps like these among friends?

I appreciate any thoughts or shared experiences on the matter. 😉

my boyfriend asked to give us some time and space, that he’s really stressed right now. I don’t know if that’s just gonna lead to a breakup or what that means for our relationship. He said a week but I’m still feeling anxious about it.

i dont really kno how to explain it but like most days i feel happy but sad at the same time, like im laughin with my friends and everything seem fine, i go to school, i joke around, i listen to music, i even get excited for stuff like a new movie or some game night or whatever, but deep down theres this weird sadness just sittin there and i dont even kno why, like theres nothin wrong exactly, nothing i can point to and say “this is why im sad” but it’s just there like a quiet shadow followin me everywhere even when the sun’s out, i could be in the middle of a good moment and then boom i just feel kinda empty, and it dont make sense cause my life isn’t bad, i got a roof, i eat every day, my family’s not perfect but they’re not awful either, nd i got a few real friends, not a lot but enough, so why do i feel like this? why do i feel like im broken or like something’s missin? sometimes i’ll be walking home and suddenly i feel like crying for no reason at all, and i dont cry, not really, but like inside it builds up and makes my chest tight, and i try to smile through it cause i don’t wanna be the sad kid or make things awkward for other people, like they expect me to be chill and upbeat cause that’s what i’ve always been but i feel like im fakin it more and more lately, like i don’t even know if the smiles are real or just habit now, nd then when i try to explain it to someone i feel stupid cause i don’t even got a story to tell, it’s just vibes, like this weird heavy cloud that dont go away even when the sky’s blue, nd sometimes i think maybe that’s just life and everyone’s like this and they just hide it better or maybe im just soft or weak for lettin it get to me, but either way it sucks, cause i wanna be happy for real, not fake happy or happy with a side of sad, just happy and done, but it never last, it’s like i reach it for a sec and then sadness taps me on the shoulder again and i cant shake it, nd maybe that’s what scares me the most, that this weird mix of happy and sad is just who i am forever and i’ll never feel one without the other again.

My partner Eric, whom I've shared a loving companionship with for nearly a decade, has always been on the heavier side, tipping the scales at about 242 pounds (110 kg). He's sensitive about his weight and doesn't even like appearing without a shirt. We've been cohabiting for three years and his body image issues have always been a subtle undercurrent in our relationship.

Recently, I splurged on a pricey ergonomic chair that cost me over $1,500. It's a special chair designed for petite individuals like myself, and it comes with a strict weight limitation of 100 kg. Despite my repeated, gentle reminders, Eric sometimes uses the chair, which I reluctantly tolerate because he shares all his things with me without hesitation.

Today, however, when he once again settled into my chair, my patience waned. I usually avoid conflict, but being under the weather and slightly irritable, I explicitly expressed my concerns. I explained that my issue wasn't him using my belongings, but specifically the chair that isn't built to support his weight, emphasizing how expensive it was and the lack of remedy if it were to break under him.

This revelation upset him profoundly. Now, Eric is avoiding eye contact and ignoring my attempts at conversation. I might have been direct in my wording, but was striving to clarify the rationale behind my repeated requests rather than hurt his feelings.

If this scene were part of a reality show, imagine the dramatic music and tension as the camera zooms in on our faces during the confrontation. Viewers would likely be on the edge of their seats, split between sympathizing with my concern for the pricey chair and empathizing with Eric's hurt feelings. It would be discussed fervently on social media, with people taking sides and debating personal space versus sharing in a relationship.

Am I wrong here for insisting on my point?