Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Last year, during the Thanksgiving season, my mom announced that the holiday would also serve as a reunion for her extensive family. She's one of many siblings, and the guest count hit 53 confirmed attendees.

The gathering was set at my mom's place. Luckily, her brother lives right next door, giving us the advantage of using two kitchens. She tasked me with devising the menu, a challenge I accepted but soon realized the complexity of. Considering the dietary restrictions alone was daunting. Our family is Jewish with varying degrees of kosher observance, half are vegetarian or vegan, some have allergies, three suffer from Celiac's disease, and a handful adhere to a keto diet. Plus, there's always a mix of picky children and adventurous adults.

After substantial planning, I shared the proposed menu in our family group chat, and the reaction was generally positive, except for a few minor adjustments like the need for a keto-friendly cheesecake and dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets for the finicky younger ones. However, my brother-in-law did not share the enthusiasm. He was notably upset over the absence of turkey from the menu. My suggestion was either to bring a turkey himself or settle for the alternatives provided. He wasn't pleased about the prospect of cooking after a long drive.

This led to a series of complaints via text from him, supported by further encouragement from my sister pushing me to take matters into my own hands and prepare the turkey. In response to continuous pestering, I made a cheeky post in the group chat declaring that he had volunteered to cook the turkey. This only fueled the fire, drawing my mother into the fray, chiding me for not handling the situation more gracefully.

Reflecting on these events, I believe he failed to appreciate the effort it took to plan such a complex menu. Admittedly, my response could have been more tactful. Now, imagine if this scenario unfolded on a reality TV show. The drama would undoubtedly be amplified for entertainment, featuring tense music and close-ups of our frustrated texts. Would the audience see my actions as justified or deem them an overreaction? It’s an intriguing thought as the line between personal grievance and public spectacle blurs in the realm of reality television.

How would viewers react if this were a reality show segment?

The past few days It's been a bit harder to follow through with my habits and i haven't made much progress. And i felt stupid for messing everything up again. The past 2 days i've been trying to get back on track a bit. ( I've been Trying my best not to doomscroll and replacing with sketching + trying to reach my step count)

But not really sure If i'm getting anywhere with that. The first month of summer Is over and i'm not sure If i made any real progress. Or if maybe i'm doing well enough. Or fast enough. Or i'm doing the wrong things. Or Maybe i'm not even worth trying to fix stuff to begin with. I kept having dumb arguements with her the past few days one after the other. Honestly i feel like she does It on purpose sometimes. And i tried to ignore It, i try to make my day better and cheer myself up and be positive but i think she's right. I am selfish. I am stupid. And It's true that I can't really care about anything. I ruin and waste everything every single time no matter how much i try and want to treasure It. She's right. I'm just like him and i'm a bad person. There's really no point in trying to change anything if i'm evil to begin with.

My mom is really so upsetting at times. Just a little while ago I realized she had been manipulating me

As in, I have my struggles with my gender identity, wounding myself and she also hates that I consume anime, games etc and whenever I feel sad she blames it on all those things. She made me throw so many sketchbooks because she said they weren’t healthy, but they were mine and she took those away and i can’t see myself forgiving her. She blamed me for my biological mother having and auto immune disease, she basically said i was at fault because I harmed myself and she’s onto me these days which is making me consider doing something mean to myself. Whenever I “mess up” (as in, talk to someone she forbid me, watched something she forbid me, or played a game she forbid me) she always starts like: “I’ve been sick these days, knowing you were doing this and this and that again. Don’t you know it’s harmful?! I forbid it!!!” and then she goes on and on placing the blame on me. She starts hard on me just to get my walls down and then she goes inserting her little thoughts in me. Manipulator! And alright! I finally got my phone back after, guess how many years? 3 years! And I had the strictest internet curfew because she can’t stand not being able to know literally everything i’m doing! And now, i’m sure in a few days she’ll come to me and say: “i’ve been getting odd vibes about your phone, let me look through it” I literally can see it, so predictable. And the worst is: if she gets it again, I’ll be grounded, which is pretty pathetic for a 17 years old but hey, that’s my life, that’s how I live! Because whenever she makes me sob blaming me, she leaves me alone, crying and wounded all by myself and yet she still insists she really cares, while in fact she’s just projecting onto me! It will never get better unless I leave here. I love her so much, she’s literally the best in every other thing but emotionally being there. Sorry if it’s too long…

Sabotage eh? Was planned all along? Don't complain if my work is wrong what I was taught wrong all along?

i want to hit my head against a wall until my brain spills out. i'd bend over, crumpling down to the floor with a newfound lightness. my hands would reach out, towards the lump of misshapen meat on the carpet, grasping at the stem. i'd pull. and pull. and pull and pull. it would unwind in my hands, onto the floor like a spool of red thread. decorated along the pink tissue would be miniscule lines. microscopic letters; descriptions of events and people and places decipherable only by the innermost part of the self -- the heart.

and so, i would dig my fingernails in deep. deep. and deeper. deeper and deeper still. and then, my fingers would grasp the weakly pulsating bloody mass. i'd pull. and pull. and pull and pull. it'd tear out of my ribcage in a satisfying manner, with a sickly sweet squelch. blood would spill out of my concave chest and stain the white carpet. my thumbnails would find purchase in the surface of the organ, peeling it open like one would an orange, splitting open at the aorta and downwards past the purkyne tissue. inside, what is inside? i peer in. i wish i hadn't. there is no answer. none. none at all. none of this matters. i tear and tear and tear into myself for nothing. i drive a blade with practiced precision into the supple flesh of my skin in an attempt to peel it away and gain even a glimpse at the person i am within, naked and bare for none to see. there is no substance. i fall. no one hears. there is nothing to hear. for i am nothing, and everything at once. i have no substance to myself, but i mimic fragments of what others do. fragments. shards. a million glass shards when glued together don't form a mirror. engraved into my subconscious. an effort to please. to be neutral. to be perceived.

and then i receive it. an answer. an answer! at last, at last. i see it. i see it all. so clear. so clear indeed. i am a grotesque, misshapen amalgamation of everything and everyone i hold dear. a summation of everything equalling to nothing of substance. nothing of value. i know what i am.

i smile as i bleed out onto the red carpet.

Imagine one day you wake up and your friend doesn’t… It’s unpredictable, is it not? Just the other day, you two are hanging out, joking around, laughing ‘till your stomach hurts. Everything looks fine from the surface, but maybe deep down they aren’t.

I think about it everyday, but I won’t do it.

Imagine one day your family starts noticing the fact that you haven’t gotten up yet. When they do check on you, it’ll be too late. Your mother would find your room all cleaned up, letters neatly arranged on your bed. She’d find her daughter pale and cold…

I think about it everyday, but I won’t do it.

Your friends would be broken by the news. Maybe you think that they don’t really care. Nobody will ever know the truth, but there are people who are actually sad to see you go. They’d think back to the day before… How you’ve hung out with them, laughed with them all day, treated them to a meal.

I think about it everyday, but I won’t do it.

Nobody saw it as goodbye. After all, the happiest person isn’t someone to typically worry about, no?

I think about it everyday, but I won’t do it.

I often hold myself back. I’m not brave enough to do it, but I’m also not strong enough to endure it all. I may not do anything about it, but it’s all in my head everyday.

I think about it everyday, but I won’t do it.

You’re not alone.

so, here's the thing: i'm 31, living what many might consider an enviable life. i have a pretty sweet gig as a project manager at a reputable firm, the kind of job that keeps me moving, challenges my brain, and supports a lifestyle that others might dream of. but here's the kicker – despite all the successes that are supposed to fill my heart with contentment and joy, i can't help but feel like life has lost its sparkle. you know how people toss around "all work and no play makes jack a dull boy"? well, it turns out being the work-focused jack (or jill, in my case) isn't particularly fulfilling when you're coming home to an empty apartment every night. 😕

am i doing something wrong here? i mean, i spent my twenties hustling to build this career, thinking i'd eventually slide into the whole husband and kids scene like it was a given. except... i just haven't found that particular groove. how do people have it all? a fulfilling job, a loving partner who gets them, sunny mornings filled with laughter and weekend adventures with friends who feel like family. some evenings i curl up with a cup of tea, staring out the window at the bustling city below, feeling like i'm watching life happen rather than actually living it. is this some phase i'll grow out of, or is there something i'm fundamentally missing?

maybe i'm being overly dramatic here, but i've seen those aspirational quotes floating around the internet, like "life is not about waiting for the storm to pass but learning to dance in the rain." these thoughts swirl in my head while i ponder whether i'm just a part of the human race's rat race, unable to break free from the seemingly endless cycle of work, eat, sleep, repeat. i'm wrestling with the concept of how all these accomplishments seem purposeless without personal connections that truly matter. and then there's the matter of friendships—or the lack thereof. ever noticed how adult friendships are this fragile dance of juggling schedules and priorities? makes me wonder how others cement those lifelong bonds without sacrificing their aspirations.

i remind myself there's always a sliver of hope, though. i mean, life's got to be more than this, right? maybe it's time to invest some energy into meeting new people, forging authentic connections, and reminding myself that embracing change is part of the journey. perhaps the lesson here is about resilience, about finding that balance between professional success and personal satisfaction. i'm not giving up. far from it. is there a magical formula to balance career and personal life? perhaps i need to remind myself, as c.s. lewis said, "you are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream." and who knows? maybe the best is yet to come. here's hoping for a future filled with more than just my career – one that radiates with warmth and genuine human connection.

im not sure if this is the right category for this but i just need to get it off my chest so sorry if i start rambling a little bit

im 18 and honestly have been contemplating whether or not i should be alive right now.

for the last six months, my life has been pretty miserable. people talk about the uni experience like it’s some exciting thing but for me it’s been nothing but a source of dread and anxiety. i had a pretty rough last two years of high school where my grades plummeted to C’s in some classes and while i did get decent grades to get into uni itself, my uni grades have been so much worse. it’s been really hard seeing it happen because growing up i associated my worth as a person with my grades and therefore with bad grades im basically less than your average person. i failed some classes in my first term and i have been trying to rectify it this term but i lost my dog almost exactly a month ago tomorrow and have felt myself spiralling deeper down this depressive? episode if you could call it that.

for the last 11 years my dog’s probably one of the only people who has loved me unconditionally. im sure my parents’ love me but it always felt like if i didn’t meet their standards i was useless and a disappointment. they know about my uni grades which sparked a lot of strain on our relationship. as if there wasn’t enough already.

and i know people’s go to response is oh you need to talk to someone!! whether that’s a friend, sibling, or family but like my situation is different. i don’t think my friends could really help me with this and my parents aren’t very approachable and my brother is like 10. i love my parents wholeheartedly and while i get that being the oldest child means that they learned how to parent through me it’s just so hard being told that family is always there for you when i know that’s not the case. my dad’s there physically but not mentally and emotionally for his kids and my mom tries to be but she’s got a quick temper and constantly makes little comments about my appearance, weight, acne etc.

anyway we just got into another argument after they found out i got a bad grade on a midterm and it kind of made me realize how much i hate myself and my life. it kind of scares me that not even 15 minutes ago i was thinking about when i was back at my dorm i could just take a crap ton of painkillers and fall asleep and hope i don’t wake up or take a hike and get lost in the woods on purpose.

i also realized that some of my habits in the last couple months have been pretty self destructive/ could be seen as sh? like i stay up all night on my phone mindlessly watching a tv show/movie, reading books or comics even when my eyes are burning and then when i fall asleep it’s like im asleep for hours or like mindlessly playing video games(which have always been a coping mechanism/decompressor) for hours on end despite knowing i could be using the time to be productive.

i’d just like some sort of sign to keep going, something to motivate me because im very close to just ending it.

we were best friends before. i met him online outta nowhere one day. we talked and talked for hours without worrying about time. there were difficulties in our story but then now here we are with a very healthy relationship. hes always there helping me with anything i need ALWAYS. hes there when im low and in my happiest times. but for him opening up is a problem. he rarely does that cause "men are strong" is his approch but he softens whenever he opens up for certain things. today he said "there is so much i want to talk about but i cant" on my part as being his girlfriend i feel bad that i cant comfort him at certain point! he deserve all of my love and care! all. of. it and i feel so bad that i cant be there for him in these times. he is strong i know and he works hard a lot. im so proud of him but i just cant forgive myself for not being there for him in these times. it literally makes me wonder if hes doing okay or not after such eps but i dont want to remind me about his misery when he himself is trying not to remember them. i really just want to hug him in these times but it just cant happened and it breaks me completely thinking about all this. its just so shattering to me that i cant help him and just talk to him through a screen. i really just wanna hold him and caress his cheeks and tell him how such a good of a job he is doing so far and that how proud i am of him. but this distance wont let me do that. long distance really sucks.

No matter what I do they still leave I try to be the perfect boyfriend but it doesn’t matter what I do they leave every time and I’m tired of being abandoned I just want a girl who won’t but I can’t seem to find one I’m tired of them leaving I just want someone to stay someone I can talk too but I can’t.

Growing up as mixed race (Black father and white mother), I've become somewhat accustomed to navigating predominantly white spaces in the UK. However, a recent visit to my mum and her partner Peter, who've been together for more than a decade, reminded me of the unique challenges I still face. They reside in a quaint Welsh village, distinctively monochromatic in its demographic, but usually, this is an environment I'm used to.

This visit, I decided to offer a hand with some gardening tasks, pulling weeds out front when Peter struck up a conversation with a neighbor, Robert, and brought me over to meet him. Within our initial exchange, after mentioning I was visiting from London for a week, Robert launched into a recount of his last trip to London. He described a minor collision with another person who he claimed then reacted aggressively. He concluded his story with, "and he was coloured," with an implicating tone suggesting danger, followed by fits of laughter from him and Peter.

The comment caught me off guard, and I excused myself, feigning more gardening work for a few moments before heading indoors. Shortly after, Peter came to my room to apologize, but his words, "Sorry about Robert, he just speaks his mind," only fueled my frustration. I confronted him about the lack of opposition to Robert's clearly racist comment. I ended up going for a long hike to cool down.

On returning, my mum tried smoothing things over, but it only escalated the tension. She suggested Robert was just an eccentric and advised I overlook his remarks. However, I stressed that my issue was more with Peter’s nonchalant reaction than Robert’s obvious prejudice. When she urged me to stand up for myself, I emphasized that as a person of color, it wasn't my place to educate or correct their biased acquaintances.

My mum accused me of overreacting; I countered, explaining she couldn’t possibly understand my position fully due to her different racial experiences. I've had to ignore casual racism in many areas of my life, but I drew the line at tolerating it in the so-called safety of my family home. Declaring my intentions to leave first thing in the morning, I started packing.

This decision inflamed the situation further. My mum lamented my impending absence from other family gatherings, labeling my decision as immature for not wanting to reach a compromise. I struggled to grasp how one could "agree to disagree" on matters of racism, let alone feel at ease knowing my immediate family might downplay my feelings toward it.

Reflecting on this situation within the context of a reality show, one wonders how the drama and intense emotional exchanges might play out before an audience. In those heightened realities, the dynamic could shift significantly, offering a platform for broader discussion or possibly escalating tensions further with viewers’ polarized reactions impacting the narrative.

Would love to know your thoughts—would my reaction have been seen differently if it was all televised?

As a seamstress who owns her boutique, I've always cherished handcrafting wedding dresses as a special gift for my close friends. So far, I've designed two beautiful gowns fitting the unique styles of each bride. I genuinely enjoy both my profession and delighting my friends in such a meaningful way. However, my current situation is a bit complicated. I'm 26 weeks pregnant and actively reducing my workload in anticipation of my impending maternity leave, delegating major projects to my team.

Recently, my friend shared her exciting news of getting engaged, and naturally, I was thrilled for her. During our conversation, she asked if I would be creating her wedding dress. I immediately agreed, assuming there was ample time to work on her gown once she set a date. She revealed the wedding was planned for January 19th. Initially, I assumed January 19, 2026, which seemed perfectly manageable. But she corrected me—it was January 19, 2025! This left me stunned as it was just around the corner, barely five months postpartum for me.

Politely, I explained that the timeframe just wouldn't work with my maternity plans and asked if she might consider a later date if she wanted me to design her dress. She was firm on her date, and I didn’t push further, but I made it clear that under these circumstances, I couldn't commit to creating her dress.

She seemed not to grasp the amount of effort and time needed for such a task, especially questioning why I couldn’t simply make her dress during my maternity leave. In a moment of frustration, I might have been harsher than intended, questioning if she understood the stress it would entail on me while being pregnant.

This led to some tension within our friend group, as she expressed her disappointment publicly in our group chat, hinting that I played favorites and that my refusal was a clear indicator. Though I'm quite upset, a part of me feels remorseful. While I'm not confident enough to entrust my employees with the task of a full wedding gown—they're not quite there yet—I'm considering perhaps offering to design either a rehearsal or reception dress as a peace offering.

Imagine if this whole ordeal were to unfold on a reality show? The drama and tension would undoubtedly be heightened, with cameras zooming in for close-ups of the emotional exchanges. Viewers would be split, some empathizing with the pressure and health concerns I'm facing, while others might side with my friend, feeling her disappointment and interpreting my inability to commit as a personal slight.

What reaction might follow if I explained the situation on a reality show?

Pls read this.

It's now 2026. I'm gonna be 14 in February. I fucking hate this. The future, it's too unpredictable! Like, I can survive. I’m weird if I do my own thing. Who notices the cleaners or waitresses or maids? I’m gonna be okay because no one can hurt me, because they don’t notice me. Best thing I can also do is not go to college either, most successful people dropped out and went their own paths. I’m going my own path, just a slower one, of giving up the risky waters. No one swims in Mangalore seas, those who do are idiots, just wanting to play with their own life. Who even wants to learn about marine life, or history? Seriously, only history you learn from is this kind and how likable you are. I should care what others think, my dad’s wrong to say no to that. Who’d wanna learn about Vietnam or Thailand or India, most them are anyways mean, rude and like polluting the ground. Those who do doctorates for literal fish, to others, it’d be weird. I won’t be word nor trendy, just nothing. It’s easier than being both lanes, anyways. Most kids after realizing they can never be a cool kid from a weird kid soon chose the beige route, at least that’s still a color. You said I’m allowed to be a nobody, I can live with that forever, considering I already ate up 7 years. It’s not judgement, it’s grace on my part, just like giving up. I’m allowed to just be a no one. I can endure, people can sit with that. They don’t sing, “I’m a survivor, I’m not gonna give up” for no reason! I can manage. It ain’t even that bad. Humans are resistible. I can live with being nothing to others, be in routine. Unshakable but predictable routine. Many people live like that. You may say I’m 13, but trust me, I can be smart like that. I just need to remove my curiosity, that intrusive aspect of me to come out of my safe space and be hurt. Don’t go to college, wake up, pass school, form no friendships, eat, sleep, bathe, relieve myself, work in some small job till I finish whatever mortgage and rent I have until I’m 64, so it all over again from 18-64, assuming my work life lasts that long.

See! People are a liability! I can be me to me only! People can live long fulfilling less without these burdens. People really are hell, Sartre was right. I can be rigid, have my own fun life and be with no one, they’re worthless anyways. They all judge, so why bother looking even for one person if it doesn’t exist? You literally said, “Humans don’t need applause, but we do need some meaning. Meaning doesn’t have to come from people, but it has to come from somewhere. Fish, oceans, history, art, dolls, stories. Those are not liabilities. They are anchors.” I’ve had them all my life. I can live with them, make them my friends, since people are a waste. I may be able to survive this year, but I can thrive the rest by this routine! You said people are optional, so why bother with any kind of relationship? Most successful people don’t even have sustainable relationships with people! I can make with next year! I’m 13, I can deal with it. How am I even wrong to say people are hell? You said I’m allowed to not like people, so that means I can handle no one. They all suck anyways. If I want someone as a friend, it won’t matter because it won’t last. I just know it. It’ll be that way. I won’t be surprised by good person who stays because they don’t exist. That’s in movies only where someone is cool like that. Again, pure fiction. No matter how I act, nice or mean or quiet, I’m a nobody to them. It won’t last and it won’t matter. I hate seeing friend groups because they feel stupid. I’m a proud incel girl. I can be a fucking incel, I'm 13.5, it's a good fucking title for me.

See? People are a risk. I can live like an introvert. Work, eat, sleep 7 hours, watch some favorite stuff, draw, repeat. It’s a life many adults do anyways for a while. Look what traveling did to me, it made me sick. Only bad thing now is I’m going to a new home in a few months, which I have to convince my parents somehow I should stay here, my original home. If some real kids can convince their parents not to divorce, I can convince them to not leave and just have them you know, stay and enjoy their investment of the house, even though they spent money on it. I’m smart for saying moving is bad. The kids there will look at me weird, and even if I’m in the same school, I don’t care. New big neighborhood men’ means it’s a social death sentence for me. I’m allowed to stay at home. My original home is safe. You said I CAN not make any friends, so that means I CAN not seek out anyone unless it’s a doctor or anything, but driving, work people, friends, restaurant workers, nope. I’m not gonna drive, I’m not gonna go to college, or pursue any of my interests. Just be a cashier, it’s low stakes and nobody cares for me. Good. Good life. Then I can go home, draw, bathe, pay rent, eat dinner, and sleep. Be Yoshikage Kira, minus the murder aspect. Just have a quiet life and be the background guy forever. It’s easier. That’s my quest for stillness. I may want friends, but since life hasn’t given me any despite me changing, I just simply can’t get them, I’ll give that up and just study, just pass exams, somehow manage 9th grade in IGCSE from CBSE, somehow manage without my original tuition teacher, and just draw and watch stuff and walk in my house because it’s a villa, and even though it’s a big neighborhood, no. I don’t deserve to exist as myself, so I’ll just be the nobody’s of the world. I was nice, my classmates didn’t notice, I was mean, still. Quiet, still didn’t notice. I’d rather just leave at this point. Not life, but just being a person in society, just a person in outskirt city. I hate it when I see people smiling with friends because I know the truth, it’s not gonna last. Since nothing lasts, nothing matters. I’m 13 going to 9th in a bit, so this matters. The last thing to actually matter. Everything matters because we as humans have such short lives, despite everything being temporary. I’m 13, and in the next 10 years, I’ll live in the outskirts. I’ve already lived in the outskirts of school long enough, I’m used to it.

I don’t matter. No one liked me no matter how I acted. I just concluded I can be a wallflower forever. I’ve lived as one anyways long enough to get used to it being permanent. I’m a crazy diamond like Syd Barrett, eventually his reassignment was the reason his band succeeded. Only thing is at least they remembered Syd, who’d remember me and me where I was? My family won’t matter because when you’re an adult, you leave them behind. It’s what everyone does, no matter what dad says about “leaving if your job is also far away, but otherwise you can stay with them”. No. Just let me be still. Forever. I’ve died inside before I even got to see anything good, because it doesn’t exist. Now that we’re moving in a few months, it’s not a new leaf, it’s a new wasteland. A new bad land unless I stay behind in my home, which is 35 minutes away from the new place. Imagine the new kids there who are also disgusting monsters. They’ll only reject me because I know the truth, change is bad. Even before a child says hi to me, I need to role with an iron fist and fight them back with poisonous words, or push them if I have to. I don’t know, I’m scared of these freaks. My subconscious may want some peace, but we got to think logically about this. I’ve survived 7 years, I can survive the next of life. I’m not gonna stack now because I’m on a trip and I don’t see much kids unless they’re coming from school, which even then it disgusts me seeing them laughing together because they think it’s a good time that lasts for only 3 days.

My stupid subconscious may crave hope for one friend now that it’s a neighborhood, but I don’t like it. It’s proven wrong many times with horrid “SMALL TALK”, so I don’t believe it. I wish I had one person who would just leave me alone in this thought, and they’d agree. Too bad they’re not real. The Saya to me, the Fuminori. I wish I had a person who’d share this vision with me, and love me for thinking the same. They’d love me for hating this pathetic world, because they do too. I don’t care if it’s not healthy, if it isn’t, what’s the point of “health”? Humans are shits anyways. Why should I care if I want something better if it doesn’t exist? It’s like wanting a unicorn, it’s not real. Why search someone so fucking fake? My stupid self is that, stupid for wanting better, for believing they exist, for wanting to have another go and thinking that maybe moving a good idea. I’m tougher for saying it isn’t and being rigid. It’s immature of me to maybe look out for more, when there isn’t.

Too bad now in a few days I'm gonna go to a dumb dance class I only said yes to from mom is to please her. I don't believe I'm a good dancer, even fi the teacher said to mom I did an "advanced dance lesson" better than beginners. That's a fucking lie! I don't believe you because I don't believe myself! Those kids didn't laugh to seem respectful, they aren't being honest, they're trying to fake niceness. Just like fucking life. Where the pros treat the new guy with pity, I don't need fucking pity, I want people to berate me because that's honesty to me! And when someone hates the world and wants to burn it as much as I do, I'd be more than friends, because we share the same true vision of the "Earth". Too bad school itself is gonna start day after tomorrow, because guess what, there's the fucking rigged system! The ruler, the principal, may claim we are a united body, but we're all divided into cliques and crews, fuck her. I hope she suffers a painful death with HIV. Fuck the future, fuck the adults, and fuck anyone who isn't a Saya! Fuck!

Well, here I am again. This time I will talk about what happened to me a few years ago. I have three daughters, 17-year-old triplets. They are somewhat rebellious and rough, but they are also very well-mannered, respectful, and kind girls. Those who read my previous story already know what happened with the mother of my daughters.

But for those who haven’t read it, I kindly invite you to read the previous story so you can have context about my situation.

What happened is that after my daughters learned about my past and what happened between their mother and me, they noticed my loneliness, since I have always lived to raise them with affection and love, educating them and guiding them to always be better. Honestly, I was fine with how things were, but my daughters decided to sign me up on a dating site, and then they sent me on several blind dates. The truth is, it didn’t go very well… because I was still dealing with the trauma from my ex-partner, Ana.

The first date was with a woman around 32 years old, about my age. At first, we talked nicely; she was polite and everything. But the problem came up when the topic of women arose, because she was extremely sexist and very attached to that mindset. I became serious, because my daughters are actually taller and stronger than me. They go to the gym: the oldest does boxing, the middle one practices archery, and the youngest practices kung fu. When this woman asked me about my daughters, I told her everything without shame, because I am proud of them. She became aggressive and started yelling at me, asking how someone like me could allow my daughters to practice “men’s sports.” I got angry, because they can throw hate at me and curse me if they want, but if they mess with my daughters, I will never allow it. So I politely stood up, told her about her flaws and her lack of respect for others, paid for my meal, and left the place.

After that, my daughters sent me on another blind date. This time it was with a divorced woman who, from the very first second, seemed kind, respectful, and sincere. But at one point she asked me if I drank alcohol or smoked. I honestly have never drunk even a drop of alcohol, nor have I ever smoked, because I don’t like it. Even my daughters don’t drink or smoke. I kindly told the woman that I didn’t, and she looked at me seriously and started drinking and smoking. After a while, she stopped talking to me because she considered me boring and not adventurous.

Honestly, I have been the father of three girls since I was 15 years old. I raised them completely on my own; I worked alone and never had the support of my family or my parents. I kindly told her, “Excuse me, miss, I am a father of three. I dedicate my life to raising them, educating them, spending time with them, and helping them with everything. If you are a party-loving woman who enjoys parties, alcohol, and smoking… and you have also made it clear that you don’t like children, I’m sorry, but I’m leaving. I will pay my part of the dinner. Have a nice night, miss.” I paid the waiter and left.

My daughters were always excited, waiting to know whether the date worked or not. Every time I said no, they got a little frustrated, but it passed, because I always told them what had happened. So they decided to keep sending me on blind dates, but it was terrible.

None of the women were my type, and many things happened. Once, a woman threw dessert in my face because she didn’t like me for being a dedicated father. Another time, a single mother slapped me because she didn’t like my hair color. Another was a feminist, but one of those who are very violent, and I am extremely respectful, since I have three daughters and even act as a homemaker. And so night after night of blind dates passed, and I never found a partner.

My daughters gave up for now, but I always cheer them up, because I am passionate about cooking and I always cook and prepare the food they like. That is life to me, and I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, because seeing that smile of joy on my daughters’ faces gives me the strength to always keep moving forward.

I've been dying to write a singer-songwriter style song for a LONG time now

so here we go

I only have a chorus

here it is:

you say, you say,

"Everything's gonna be

okay okay"

Like you've done this before

But you ain't done this before

So don't say, don't say,

Cause nothing will be

okay, okay

Cause you ain't done this before

And I ain't done this before

And I also want there to be a part that goes:

And now I long to see

What do you still see in me?

But I'm struggling with the verses

so If I get something good I'll post it here bc my IRL friends are tried of hearing me yap abt my songs-