sunset {

i gotta study but i feel sick. not the throw up, tired all day, can't get out of bed kind of sick. i'd describe this as a general sort of malaise. 

malaise (n): an indefinite feeling of debility or lack of health often indicative of or accompanying the onset of an illness

shit. i don't think i'm ill though! i think it's just brain fog. a lot thicker than i'm used to, at least on a random ass wednesday.

***

people can change remarkably quickly. i read the shit i write sometimes, and i'm surprised those words came out of my mouth (or my fingers, if you want to be pedantic). did i really conjure those thoughts? was i just possessed by some melancholic demon that, for some reason, has a strong penchant for writing nonsense on a terribly-made google site?

i often think back to the concept of last thursdayism. what if the universe was created last thursday, and you were made with all of the memories you have the moment you woke up last thursday. all of the fossils, historical records, and memories of other people sprang into existence. you can't prove that it didn't. everything that came before last thursday was fabricated. and, when i go to bed tonight, the "me" that exists won't wake up.

some people think that's disturbing. i wouldn't care. after all, can you actually prove that the world existed last wednesday?

***

i like to think i'm a different person now. i talk to people a lot more, and a lot better. i don't bat an eye when i need to be the center of attention. i don't necessarily like it, but it's kind of a fact of life now. i have made new friends. i have learned new lessons. by all accounts, i should be on to bigger and better in terms of my emotions.

but there's still something that's gnawing in the back of my mind. like a rat trapped in the walls of my house. i can only ignore it so long as it doesn't make noise. but when it does, it's the only thing i hear.

i don't have words to describe what this rat feels like. i don't think they exist in the english language. if i had to try, i would call it a constantly sober state, one where i'm reminded of my place in the canvas of the universe. a feeling of solitude. a feeling that, no matter how hard anyone tries (including me), i won't be understood.

and i don't mean that in a middle-school kind of sense. i don't feel particularly bothered by it. i wouldn't classify not being understood as a bad thing. i think my life, just as yours does, has infinite depth and complexity that you won't be able to share with anyone else. it's just that sometimes, my infinity feels a little bit bigger.

reading these lines back, that was probably a terrible way to describe the rat. so instead, i think i'll just keep calling it that. a rat.

***

writing it still enjoyable for me. in the age of ai (which i am a slave of), i still find a sense of satisfaction in hearing these keys click and seeing these letters appear. uniquely my own voice, in uniquely my own rhythm. i am narrating these words as they appear in a voice that sounds like mine, but isn't quite. because i don't really like the way my voice sounds.

it's been four plus months since i last wrote a monologue. i've started a few drafts since then, but they've all fizzled out before i could finish my thoughts. i think this one will be very much the same. but my deep dissatisfaction at not having recorded any of my thoughts in a whole summer? yeah, that has to go. so i'll publish this one no matter what.

i don't really know when i'll write again. i've left a lot of things behind. this might be next.

***

jacky, there is much work to be done before you can feel like you deserve the happiness you feel. but for now, enjoy every sunset. i'm currently enjoying mine. and i hope we'll see many more together.

} 2026.08.19