the one where I get a little too real

the little voice in my head is being mean to me

Chineme post something, Chineme you’re failing the schedule, Chineme we promised ourself.

Shut up. shut up. Jesus. I tried okay. I have two drafts that I started and are too raw to actually post. We’re supposed to be happy-go-lucky here.

This is just gonna be another thing you start and quit

Well, with all this pressure, why won’t I quit? This is supposed to be fun, not work.

Don’t quit yet another thing. Your crotchet pin and wool are still waiting in that drawer. 

I don’t want to quit this. I don’t plan to quit this. I just don’t like the unnecessary pressure you’re putting on me.

I thought you liked pressure?

No, I said I can work under pressure. From other people. Not from myself. Pressure from myself triggers my fight-or-flight and I always choose flight. Hence the crotchet.

Pretty sure you dumping crotcheting stemmed from your inner perfectionism and your need to make the perfect project with that wool. Well news flash, you’re learning, you can’t be perfect when you’re an amateur. You actually have to practice to become good. 

You didn’t need to call me out like that in public, people are eavesdropping

Girl, you posted this. Now that I think about it, isn’t this why you stopped buying journals? Cause they are too pretty and you want the perfect thing written in them and then you end up not writing in them. You have like five empty journals.

Rude of you to say that with people around.

You’re arguing with me in public, knowing I won’t hesitate to air out your dirty laundry. We’re like that friend group in secondary school who argued in public, aired out all their dirty laundry and then continued to be friends after disgracing each other. Except, I barely like you and I’m forced to be with you cause I’m a part of your subconscious (the fact you had to google how to spell that word, ha)

You know what, I don’t have to take this from you. I can shut you off.

Then who’s gonna be brutally honest with you?

This isn’t honesty, this is borderline cruelty

Oh you want cruelty? You’re so afraid of the idea of posting something that’s too raw cause you’re afraid to be really seen and percieved. You like being seen as cool and fun but you don’t want to peel down the layers to your vulnerable side. Cause you’re afraid people won’t like you then. That you’ll bare yourself raw and you’ll be rejected. So you give everyone a facade and dance through life. If you want to prove me wrong, finish both drafts, not this type halfway and stop thing you have going on. Finish both and post them.

So sorry y’all had to see that little argument between me and the little voice in my head (I kid you not I have tears in my eyes). This is literally how my brain works and I’m actually debating not posting this, but I will, cause part of me feels like this is a universal experience no one talks about, and that someone will relate to this.

I wrote more stuff but it was either too raw (try as I might, its really hard to let myself be vulnerable, especially in public), or too carefree (I realized I was forcing a joy I wasn’t really feeling and it felt like whiplash), so I deleted them. I decided this is a good place to leave it.

It’s really weird I started the first line wanting to be comical and in being real, I depressed myself, but such is life. I guess this just came from a place deep inside me that wanted to be heard.

Happy Friday (oh the irony), enjoy your weekend (I’m sorry for depressing you) and enjoy the song rec for today.

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The cover art is by YOYO LANDER. Its’ titled: Deep Water and Drowning are not the Same Thing, 2019 (it wasn’t a stock image so it felt wrong to use it without credit)