This is my seventeenth day in Melbourne (Saturday 9th Dec 2017). Will it be a lifelong sentence? Time is really weird. It feels like the Philippines was this very distant memory. I don’t feel settled into my new life. And it does feel like a different life. All the elements are the same but nothing fits together like before. Before I started writing this I re-read all the work I wrote overseas and I did learn a lot of things. What I needed (I guess) and now cue patience cause those awful life lessons that stretched my idea of self and humanity are forming in my psyche.

I am really tired of making the same mistakes and it is hard to not be defeated by my own fear-based behaviour. I don’t trust what is real because I don’t necessarily trust myself anymore. Insanity is questioning your reality. I was in this situation that provoked the emotional mourning process and what did I do? I cauterised the wound. I actually don’t know how anyone survives this world without their engrained coping mechanisms. Mad props to recovered addicts.

Nothing is that bad as long as you are not regressing. I acknowledge I took a step backward but I’m not falling backwards and there is an important difference.

What is this piece? I’m glad I’m not afraid to speak but even the form is different.

I’ve been thinking a lot about bad childhoods and where people’s emotional scars run and of course love. What is the compulsion we feel towards certain people and is that even healthy?

Drop your assumptions you might just learn something, how do I trust my instincts when they are always leading me astray? The thing that gives me hope and makes me shiny is the thing that kills me.

Editor’s Note: I decided not to edit this piece. It was the first thing i wrote when i got back but it got too hard basket to post and shit is what it is.