"There is a word in German: Lebenslangerschicksalsschatz. And the closest translation would be...
"Lifelong Treasure of Destiny." And Victoria is wunderbar, but she is not my Lebenslangerschicksalsschatz. She is my Beinaheleidenschaftsgegenstand, you know? It means... "the thing that is almost the thing that you want... but it's not quite." Das ist Victoria to me."

"How do you know she's not Lebenslangerschicksalsschatz? I mean, maybe as the years go by, she'll get... Lebenslangerschicksalsschatz-ier."

"Oh, nein, nein, nein. Lebenslangerschicksalsschatz is not something that develops over time. It is something that happens instantaneously.  It courses through you like the water of a river after a storm... filling you and emptying you all at once. You feel it throughout your body... In your hands... in your heart... in your stomach...in your skin. Have you ever felt this way about someone?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"If you have to think about it, you have not felt it."

"And you're absolutely sure you'll find that someday?"

"Of course. Everyone does eventually.


You just never know when or where."

he said, "I love you. There, I said it. Why is it such a hard thing to be said out loud?" and all I wanted to say was "do you? Do you even know what love is? Do we even know whether what we feel is love?" but all that came out was: "I love you too, please don't leave me."

[2 am midnight phone call]

May 31st, 2015

I was going to write 'sorry that all you got is a girl who whines and cries about all freaking things all the freaking time and mumbles her thoughts out loud and plays with her knife and fork before eating' but then I remembered that all I got is also a guy who loudly cheers at his phone so the picture would load sooner and gets scared over a not-so-horror-movie and bets stubbornly at how he is able to swallow down eighteen chicken wings at lunch, and suddenly I've realized I am not sorry anymore.

[excerpt from a letter I might write on June]

Hello. What a nice, simple thing to say after months of no writing, is it? But I'm sorry for not posting in such a long time. Though I must say this one: just because I don't post doesn't mean I don't write. As really, I practically write everywhere. I just don't feel like posting it. My recent journals consist of continuous patterns of how terrible and boring my three-month-break is. That includes my repeated schedule everyday: waking up, surfing on the internet, reading, and going to sleep. It just went like a complete boring cycle and I was seriously slowly going crazy with the monotonous patterns. Meanwhile some of my friends had traveled to Europe and some had gone to Makkah

It sucks to love someone at the wrong time of your life. Maybe it's too soon, maybe it's too late... And it pains you to be around the one you love without being able to tell them exactly how you feel, it pains you to hold your tongue from saying the word love because you never want to ruin anything, or simpler;you just don't want to scare them off. You don't want to break anything but at the same time without you realize it, you're breaking your own heart. And even though you've told yourself to fuck off and stop waiting, there's part of you that will always be waiting, as you have waited for years...

When He Is Not Listening

I never believed the term "being in love is the most joyous feeling a human could feel." It was just weird to think that you could actually feel your pulse quicken, to feel like you were having trouble breathing, or hear your own heartbeat drummed in your ears when your loved one was around. It had always been me, myself, and I all the time. I'm not saying that I'm asexual, for I did have a little crushes here and there. But the word love itself had been spoken so many times that it had lost its meaning to me.

High School Spelling Bee Contest 2013 & 2014

I'd never thought the day where I would write in the middle of a try-out doing class would ever actually happen. But this is, now. While everybody's heads got twisted by the difficulty of the chemistry NE tryout, here I was, writing my heart out on you. 

So okay, first of all, sorry for not writing in such a long time. You wouldn’t wanna know how much it sucks to be a twelve grader. I cannot even watch TV in peace! I cannot even finish this book I'm currently reading (A Walk To Remember)  without being haunted by the "trigonometry" or the "integrals"! No rushing home at three to have some little naps.