Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

My boyfriend and I have been dating for almost 4 months in the past couple weeks. He’s been really moody. I’m not sure what it is. I’ve asked him about it. I’ve explained that it’s making me feel down because he won’t explain and I feel useless as a girlfriend. The other day we were on call (luckily) as we haven’t called for a couple days and he was still upset so of course me being people pleaser I tried to make him laugh. I said that I was gonna hack and do school frame and spy on the campus cameras, (this is how we don’t take it seriously I would never do something like that) and he went into full detail of why I wasn’t gonna, and I told him that it was just a joke and that I was sorry. And then I said jokingly “you hate me, don’t you?” And he replied with “yeah, who wouldn’t hate a sensitive bitch like you” and I paused for almost 5 straight minutes wondering if you really said that or if I was just insane. he tried saying that he was just being sarcastic and that he didn’t mean it like that, but he yelled at me and I managed to squeeze out a “oh. Sorry.” And I hung up and cried myself myself to sleep. Ever since then he’s been really moody and I can’t even explain how different he is right now. I feel like he’s just lust. He only ever text me when he’s in a mood or when he wants something from me. I’m pretty much carrying the entire emotional relationship against me and him and just about a couple hours ago, he told me that he was cutting himself. I told him I wasn’t gonna be sensitive anymore. I told him to tell me what was going on as he wasn’t talking to me about anything and would just brush it off. I told him that I feel useless as a girlfriend. Which I really do. And how if he can’t talk to me who would he talk to my acknowledging? I am the only person ever talk to unless he’s hiding someone from me or people. I’ve told him I need to know that he can trust me and if he can’t, then I don’t know if we should be together anymore and I just asked him if he was gonna leave me because he has been showing no interest in me unless it’s for lust. I also feel like my body doesn’t excite him anymore. He’s really dry and always asked me to do something different and in person, he’s only ever talked about having sex. Never holding hands, never hugging never nothing only lust. I have told him that I don’t like the way he talks to me sometimes. I don’t think he realized what I meant. I’ve tried everything to do to go see him and he refuses to come see me even though he has nothing holding him back. Just he doesn’t want to. AITA for telling him that I don’t think he’s caring enough about me when I care too much about him? Even if he is in a bad place right now I still wanna feel special. I wanna feel loved. I’ve had my ups and downs and even I still push things away to comfort him. I feel like I’m giving up too much for him.

LIKE COME ON

THERES THESE TWO KIDS IN MY ENGLISH CLASS MAKING OUT EVERY FUCKING DAY LIKE I DONT NEED TO SEE THAT

PETITION TO MAKE PDA ILLEGAL?!?!??!?! LIKE PLEASE

this is a joke btw, while I do hate seeing PDA people can do what they want lol idc

I moved across the country to be with someone let everyone I know behind. Everything was perfect when we were long distant. We would talk everyday, FaceTime all day. Then after I moved it just seemed to stop. It’s the little things I miss. The good morning texts, the kisses goodbye of I’m sleeping and they have to work. Sending TikTok’s all day . All of it just stopped and o feel like I’m just being dumb.. like that stuff shouldn’t matter, but.. done some reason it does to me.

my last post was about gigachads, now what i actually want to know, how do they have all this capacity, whats there secret to performing well even tho they have alot of struggle, what am i doing wrong

Where do I look? I don't know where to look. I confess that I have a hard time looking at myself much. I have so many things scattered throughout my life that I don't know. I confess, and I must be clear, that I've completely abandoned my life. It's true; I feel like I know nothing about myself, absolutely nothing. I don't know what conditions I live in. I feel like I'm constantly carrying all that weight. I have a hard time looking at myself. I feel like it's strange for me.

In principle, what does it mean to look at myself? I don't know. I haven't asked myself how I am for a while. I just follow a vague routine and that's it. I don't know about my life. I've never asked myself how I am with my relationships. I feel like I've neglected that because I don't nurture them; I think that's why I don't possess them, unless they really catch my attention. What is it like to look at yourself? How is everything structured? Where do I start? What does it mean to be with yourself?

I have a hard time looking inside myself because, even though I don't know, I don't know why there are so many things. I feel a sovereign distaste for such a depth. It bothers me that I can't tap into it immediately. What questions do I ask myself first? Am I good? Am I bad? Am I this or that? I have no reference to refer to myself. It's scarce. I've always been concerned with measuring myself through others, so that their comments, due to their very content, don't affect me, and that's precisely why I maintain a limiting dependence on them.

I feel like I've never reached myself. I have depth in my words, but I feel like I've never penetrated myself. I feel that, to begin with, it must be said, I'm disgusted by my life because I don't take care of my hygiene. I tend to be lazy with it because of the tiredness it causes me to go through the motions of maintaining it. I dislike it, but at the same time I like it because it allows me to live far from how I lived at home.

I feel like my life is precisely a radical escape from the life I had with my mother and father, especially during my upbringing. I had a very heavy life, and now I try to make it as light as possible, unfortunately, going to extremes, apparently. In fact, I don't even want to have clean clothes. I only live for the sake of no one noticing what's going on. Now that I think about it, the mere idea of ​​living with myself makes me hide.

Also, I feel like I wouldn't live with myself because I feel like I'd point out things about myself, highlight strange things that I don't want anyone else to see, including, apparently, me. I just let myself go and I'm not aware of what I'm doing. Deep down, I feel like I'm bathing in a deep sadness and I play with it. In a way, I feel like I'm overcoming it, challenging it, even though it's there. It's an attitude that wasn't allowed either.

I live to do what my system of rules, with which I was raised, breaks down completely. In fact, I feel like I'm still a teenager, I confess. I dislike it partly because I'm getting bored of being in constant conflict with it. I feel it's time to stop fighting that upbringing. I don't feel like it's doing me any good, and in fact, I feel like it's causing a lot of noise right now.

That is to say, I feel like I have a life, or I've reached a structure, with which I like and dislike. Again, on the terrain of rebellion. I feel like I don't know, I must say, what I really want with my life. I've reached a deep stagnation. When will I get out? I don't know, in principle, what my tastes are. I feel like I haven't fully emerged.

Nothing has come out of that struggle with my belief system yet. It used to be that it brought me tremendous benefit, however, I've reached a point where it's no longer necessary. In fact, in the environments I frequent, it's no longer necessary; rather, it's superfluous. It's become dispensable. I need to know what can emerge from this struggle, a dialectic, as they would say in philosophy.

I've reached the point of reflecting on: Who am I? I swore I had that answer a long time ago, however, I've only explored what I had to say about the things I experience, which has given me the ability to be at this point where I ask myself that question: Who am I? What do I do in this world? What purpose can I serve society? Why do I exist? Why do I spend time with the people I spend time with? Why am I alone and not accompanied? Would I be better off being accompanied than alone? Why is it worth continuing to live? I feel like I have so many questions to answer; I'd never asked myself them, and during my upbringing, they were truly unthinkable.

The one that stands out most to me now is: Why don't I pursue what I love? Right now, I see myself in the worst voices, but they come from voices that aren't mine, but rather my parents', so they aren't guiding. Why do I do what I do? I feel that, essentially, I don't have a reason for what I do, something that gives it meaning. I feel like I live without knowing why I act, what drives me, and I confess, I'm totally unaware of that. I see myself acting, simply, based on maintaining the organic relationship between things without actually going anywhere beyond that.

I think the question that plagues me right now is, and I think it encompasses everything: Where do I have to go? What is that place? What do I have to follow? I find myself without that reference. Why have I allowed myself to go so long without that reference? I don't understand. How have I been able to live without one? Now the question is: Is it a reference? Or is it admitting that no such reference exists? Personally, I think the most important thing is to unburden this area, which, in effect, I think we can talk about as an existential crisis.

I don’t know how people do it. Like, just live without constantly feeling like they’re behind on everything. I spent years studying, working my ass off to get a degree, telling myself it would all be worth it in the end. But now that I’m finally starting my career, I feel like I missed everything else. I see people my age who are already settled, married, some even have kids, and here I am—just getting started, but already exhausted. I don’t even know if I made the right choices anymore. I wanted this, right? A good job, stability, a future. But what’s the point if I have no one to share it with? Every day, I wake up, go to work, come home, eat alone, sleep, and do it all over again. And yeah, I know, “It takes time,” “You’re still young,” blah blah blah. But when does it actually start feeling good? When does it stop feeling like I’m just surviving instead of living?

The worst part is, I want a family. I want love, I want kids, I want a home filled with something real. But it feels like an impossible dream now. Dating is a joke. Either guys don’t take me seriously, or they’re already settled with someone else. And then there’s the career part—if I do find love, if I do get pregnant, what happens to my job? I worked too hard to lose everything just because I want a family. But I also don’t want to wake up at 45 and realize I waited too long, that I let my best years slip away because I was too scared to make a move. I see women balancing it all, and I wonder how the hell they do it. I can barely keep myself together, let alone raise a whole child. And what if it never happens? What if I really do end up alone forever? No husband, no kids, just a job that doesn’t care if I exist outside of my work email. The thought of that keeps me up at night, makes my chest feel tight, makes me wonder if this is just how life is supposed to be for me. And if it is? Then depression sucks.

And what makes it worse? The fact that no one really gets it. People say “just put yourself out there” like it’s that easy, like I can magically force myself to meet the right person when I barely even have the energy to get through the day. They tell me to “enjoy being single”, but what if I don’t? What if I don’t want to spend my weekends third-wheeling my married friends or pretending to have fun at social events just to feel like I belong somewhere? I keep scrolling through pictures of people my age, smiling with their babies, celebrating anniversaries, moving forward in life, while I feel completely stuck. And the worst part is, I don’t even know how to fix it. I can’t just quit my job to chase love, and I can’t force love to happen just because I want it to. So what am I supposed to do? Just wait? Just keep hoping something changes while I feel like I’m running out of time? Because right now, it feels like no matter what I do, I’m always too late for everything that actually matters.

I have a friend named Sydney who was diagnosed with cancer recently. Thankfully, her doctors believe it's treatable because they discovered it early.

Last weekend, a group of us, including myself, went to support her. I've known Sydney since our college days, but I'm not very familiar with some of her newer friends, as I don't live close by.

During our visit, Sydney shared about the treatment plan her doctor recommended. Suddenly, a person from her circle, whom I met only during this gathering, intervened. "You're not seriously considering that, are you?" she exclaimed, proposing a raw diet she claimed could cure the cancer.

Initially, I tried to remain neutral and suggested, "Yes, maintaining a healthy diet is crucial to keep your strength during treatment."

However, her friend countered, "No, why would you use actual poison instead of what nature provides us?"

She elaborated on the benefits of phytonutrients against cancer cells and hinted at a conspiracy within the medical industry to push unnecessary treatments. As the night progressed, Sydney shifted from being skeptical to somewhat convinced by these claims.

Eventually, I couldn't hold back and told Sydney, "It's good to maintain a healthy diet, and you can explore what you wish in addition to your treatment. But to abandon your medical plan for a salad is both naive and dangerous."

Another friend suggested Sydney could postpone her medical treatment to try this diet, thinking it wouldn’t harm to delay for a few weeks. Sydney seemed tempted by the idea of fewer disruptions to her life and no hair loss.

I was troubled seeing her swayed by this renewed but false hope. I confronted the friend, "You could be endangering Sydney's life with such advice. Is that something you’re prepared to handle?"

The friend left the room upset. Some of her friends said my reaction was too intense, stating we should respect different opinions and let Sydney decide. Sydney appreciated the range of viewpoints, understanding that everyone was tense given her diagnosis.

I tried to calm the situation, but I feel like I might have disrupted what was meant to be a supportive gathering by turning it into a debate.

If this situation were part of a reality show, the scene could have escalated dramatically with cameras zooming in on everyone's reactions. The producers might have even highlighted this argument for trailers and teasers, sparking debates among viewers about the ethics of alternative treatments versus conventional medicine. Thoughts like, "Will this make me look like the bad guy? Am I just adding drama?" keep racing through my mind.

Piece by piece I try to keep me and Ed’s relationship together it’s so hard we sometimes fight normally we make up immediately after I’m always the one apologizing first though.. his family issues have gotten so bad that he is having thoughts of wanting to kill himself one time he said he wanted his family to die I told him how that scared me and we got into another argument not really an argument he just cursed at me which he never does but still scared me more lunix told me to gave a breather so I did when I came back he was fine I feel so useless I can’t help him I can’t make him feel happy does he even love me or is he trying to find excuses to live it hurts everytime he talks about it the pain everytime I feel like I tell him to stop he’ll never tell me anything so I deal with it hide the pain hide the shame I want it to End I just wanna jump off a fucking Cliff why is this so hard I just wanna talk to someone but Ed’s best friend said it makes Ed really upset when I talk about one of our fights or issues with someone else what do I do I’m so close to fucking ending myself everyday im losing more and more energy to even get out of bed..

(Lunix my sister Ed my boyfriend)

About two months ago, I relocated to a triplex and took up residence in the middle unit. The unit next to me remained vacant until very recently. My new neighbor made quite the entrance last week by knocking aggressively on my door at 9 in the morning. Opening the door to a complete stranger, I was bluntly told to move my car from her designated parking spot. She introduced herself as the new tenant next door but hardly offered any pleasantries before making her demand.

Later that evening after finishing my shift, which runs from 6pm to 2am, I unwound with my routine of showering, eating, and watching some television before heading to bed. That following morning, she was back at my door complaining about the noise of my late-night movements. Despite explaining my work schedule, she insisted I keep the noise down and left visibly upset.

A couple of days afterwards, I returned home to find her car parked in my designated spot. Forced to park on the street, I decided to confront her with the same fervor she had shown. When she opened the door, her immediate response was to critique my approach and flatly refuse to move her car since I wasn’t home to claim the spot.

Fed up, I filed a complaint with our landlord after just her first few days of moving in. When she learned of this, she accused me of bothering her like some petulant child. My colleagues think my actions may have been petty. Am I really the bad guy here?

If this scenario played out on a reality show, audiences would probably be split. Some might cheer for standing up to such brash behavior, while others might criticize the complaint to the landlord as an overreaction. It’s easy to imagine this leading to a dramatic, tension-filled episode with viewers eagerly waiting to see who the landlord sides with or if the neighbors manage to resolve their differences.

F18, I apologize right away, because I will write chaotically and jump abruptly from the topic. I just feel that I need to vent, but I have no one to talk to, so I am writing here. And English is not my native language, I write through a translator. I am currently studying at the institute, and I have no motivation to study. I have no motivation for anything at all. I don't know if I like what I am studying, if this is

who I want to become in life. I don't feel smart, I feel stupid, my social circle is much smarter than me, but I can't find the strength to try to study too. I don't feel like I have any real friends, even though I know I have them and I'm privileged to have friends at all. But lately I just don't feel comfortable talking to people. I just don't want to do anything. I hate myself, my body, the way I speak, my behavior, my character. I have no talent for anything, I can't do anything perfectly like others. I want to lose weight, but I can't. I can't remember myself without wanting to lose weight. I don't see myself as beautiful, I don't think I will be beautiful even if I lose weight. I've never been in a relationship, I've never experienced teenage love, it's forever lost to me. I am just so tired. There are still so many topics I want to write about, but there are explosions outside my window and I'm afraid my mom will ask me to go into the hallway and see me crying. So I'm finishing up. Maybe next time. Thank you to everyone who read this.

It is currently 2:30 AM and i have an essay ahead of me that I am still yet to write. It's not because I forgot about it - it's all I have been thinking of this day, but for whatever reason, I'll get side-tracked any time I start doing it. It's almost like I am allergic to getting work done. I always make an effort to do it, but it's almost like I make a counter anti-effort in a burst of inspiration for literally anything else. I feel awful writing it, and wish to be doing something else, which is why I am always doing something else instead. I'm past the point of being mad over this, because this isn't a first occurrence, instead I'm making the calculations that.. yeah i'll get a maximum of 2 hours of sleep today. Headaches, here I come!

After a decade-long split from my former spouse, who is also the father of our two children, I find myself in a continually complex co-parenting scenario. During the later stages of my second pregnancy, his behavior deviated increasingly toward that of a younger, more carefree individual without family responsibilities. He prioritized socializing over spending time with our family, so much so that his friends habitually expected me to pick him up post-gatherings as if I was his caretaker.

Initially, he fought for equal custody of our children but was granted limited visitation instead. However, he gradually took on more responsibility, earning him 50% custody rights. Around this time, he had a child with another woman and seemed to take a more mature approach to fatherhood, even gaining full custody of this child. He later remarried, and they had two children, besides partially supporting two other non-biological children.

Our relationship improved slightly until his second marriage began to falter, making things between us strain once again. His expectations began to stretch beyond reasonable boundaries, transforming my role from co-parent of our mutual children into an almost communal parent figure for his broader family. He would bring his other children during custody swaps, hoping for interaction between all siblings, and made frequent requests for me to babysit or ensure that clothes and school supplies from our children were shared with his others. His demands culminated recently with accusations of me not purchasing enough back-to-school supplies for not just our two children, but all five under his roof. This built tension and he implied I managed our responsibilities poorly by not supporting his other children financially, which I firmly rejected, stating my obligations are only towards our shared children.

His perspective is that, because the children are all part of the same household part-time, I should also co-parent them equally. I disagreed, arguing that my financial and parental duty extends only to our biological children, not his others, which led to further disputes about our responsibilities and the nature of our co-parental duties.

Imagine if this scenario unfolded on a reality show, the dynamics and arguments could be made even more intense and public, drawing wide speculation and opinions from viewers. The blend of family drama and personal disputes could potentially become a central storyline, generating a mix of sympathy, judgement, and critique from the audience. Would the public view my insistence on setting boundaries as rational, or would they perceive me as unhelpful and callous towards the children’s unified family experience?

SO

I'm an enthusiastic musical arranger on flat.io (go find me, my display is orgogagogi and my @ is @hans_husband) and I arrange mostly for piano.

I've arranged so far: I Hate To Admit by Bang Chan (Kpop is awesome what you yappin), Vibrant Eyes by CG5, and have posted but not finished an arrangement of The Beginning by ONE OK ROCK.

Thing is, I'm currently working on, like two different arrangements at the same time: previously mentioned The Beginning and Call Your Mom by Noah Kahan and plan to start Everywhere, Everything by Noah Kahan soon, and maybe even Deep End by SKZ.

Thinking about the next note has been part of what keeps me up at night, so much so that I've started having to put makeup under my eyes so that it won't be obvious that I'm losing sleep over this so my friends don't worry.

am I pushing myself too much?

Hi folks!

Ok, here is my story... I feel like I can't be right in this situation but I don't feel guilty either...

That evening, I went to pick up my three-year-old and five-year-old from daycare, as my wife had to accompany our eldest, who's 12, to a sports practice. Realizing the kids were probably hungry, and thinking a little treat would be nice, I decided to skip heading straight home and instead went to a nearby restaurant. While settling in, I glanced at my phone and noticed a message from my wife, revealing she had prepared dinner for the kids before leaving. Unfortunately, we were already at the restaurant, and it felt too disruptive to reverse course, so we went ahead with our meal out.

Upon returning home and when my wife arrived, I mentioned my late discovery of her text, and that we ended up dining out. This revelation didn't sit well with her. She was quite upset, accusing me of wasting the effort she'd put into making dinner. Despite my attempts to explain the misunderstanding and assure her there was no disregard intended for her efforts, she labeled my actions as inconsiderate.

Was my decision truly inconsiderate? Is it wrong to miss a text and make a decision based on what seemed best at the moment? I feel stuck no matter what I choose.

Imagine this scenario playing out on a reality show. How might the audience react? Would they sympathize with the spontaneity of dining out with young kids, or critique it as a lack of communication and respect towards the effort of meal preparation? Reality TV thrives on such disputes, often magnifying normal day-to-day disagreements for dramatic effect. Viewers might be divided, with some appreciating the father's desire to do something nice for his kids, while others side with the mother, feeling her efforts were disrespected.

I don’t really have companions because, truthfully, I never tried much to make them. It seems I’ve lived isolated for the most of my life. I do have a family—my parents are around—but beyond that, I’m on my own. As a kid, I was the shy one, and over the years, that shyness turned into a preference for solitude. It’s as if I constructed my own quiet little world and, oddly enough, I don’t seem to crave the company of friends as much as one might think.

However, there's something I crave far more than friendship – and that's affection. I don't harbor any ill will towards people. I’m certainly not a misanthrope. Yet, there’s a longing in me to experience simple human affection, like holding hands with a girl, or perhaps even sharing a gentle kiss. These are the modest desires I pine for, the chance to build an intimate connection from such tender beginnings.

Despite painting myself as somewhat righteous in these matters, I worry that my lack of a social circle might turn off potential romantic interests. Maybe it won't be an outright rejection, but there could be a hint of suspicion, a wariness that might eventually push her away. The thought lingers that this might lead to me spending my final years alone, without ever having known intimacy.

How would this scenario play out if I were thrown into the dramatic world of a reality show? Cameras recording every moment of my solitude, the audience witnessing my awkward attempts at human connection—could the added pressure provoke sympathy or ridicule? Would they see my loneliness as a peculiar quirk or a relatable struggle?

If the public were to step into my shoes through the lens of reality TV, I wonder if it could change their perception. Maybe they would cheer for my small victories or feel the sting of my setbacks. Either scenario is daunting yet strangely alluring.