Dear Joshua,

I hope that you don't turn into one of them. Recently you've been telling me how much you want to be a doctor when you grow up, to have that huge house and that million dollar room. I warned you that being a doctor requires some sort of morals in you to want to genuinely help people instead of just caring about the money.

Tonight, we were having the same conversation about studies and the future with dad. I guess you're the one he likes huh, because at 15- you've said everything that he has always wanted to hear. Your passion and drive, its something that I still lack and you know it too. It was funny at first when you used to poke fun at the fact that maybe you might be more successful than me in the future, and it used to be funnier when dad was egging you on. But tonight you said, "one day I will be earning $60 when I see one patient and you'll be earning that $8.50/hr staring at screens in a cubicle." I told you not to be too quick to judge, because the future's uncertain for me and let's leave it as that. Dad was encouraging you, saying that you were right.

After a few seconds of silence, I told the both of you, "contentment is key, people. If you earn that $60 and you feel contented, and if I earn that $8.50/hr and feel contented - then we're equal. There's nothing much to compete about."

Dad just said flatly, "Contentment? Contentment is for losers. It will never get you anywhere."

At that moment, I hoped you wouldn't believe what he said. Because if you're never contented, you'll never stop chasing after things, after things, after things. The thought of never stopping, of never being happy, of never being contented of what you have - is that really what you want, Joshua?

I hope he doesn't turn you into a copy of what he is because it's dangerous.

I've forgotten how lonely felt like and I guess it missed me. It's a funny thing, memories. I pack them in a box and once in a while it tends to jump out of the box and give me a few surprises, while I desperately try to put them back into place, trying not to feel too much about it.

Letters are like time capsules. At that moment while writing it, you're filled with so much emotions, it feels as though you're pouring out your soul into the letter. You leave those letters untouched after a few years, going back to read it again. You suddenly recall things that you thought you've forgotten. Like, "oh, I forgot I even mentioned that!" "wow, since when the hell was I so cheesy haha"

Good times. I've forgotten about what we were and I guess it's a good thing. How foolish, how silly it was of me to believe in things that wouldn't last. I've made mistakes, but you were one of my biggest.

I think I've remembered how lonely felt like.
When you're surfing through these letters from someone that once held such an important position in your life, and knowing that it's no longer that anymore. All these words, feelings, stories - they all mean nothing now. It's almost as if they were empty words told by ghosts of the past. It's gone now - and today, I feel so, so alone.

I am

At the point where my heart is about to explode with too many thoughts where Augustus Waters would say "my thoughts are stars I can't fanthom into constellations" - to put it slightly more artistically. "I See Fire" by Ed Sheeran is playing and I can't seem to put a finger as to what I'm feeling. Somewhat sad, nostalgic, afraid, confused? Too fast. Everything is moving too fast. Tonight a conversation struck me where we were talking how we're usually forced to grow up under so many circumstances and how the environment has shaped us to believe yes to grow up to quickly earn that big cheque is the right thing to do and kids can't be kids for too long quickly this quickly do that only because it's right in our point of view it's acceptable and considered almost natural for us and someone stopped us with this one sentence saying, "is it really though? That children should be growing up faster than they actually should." It was silent. And the only thing we caught ourselves blaming was society.

I am a product of my environment, the society, my culture, my family, my family's family-

I am a product.

And tonight this sentence hits me the most. I feel almost like nothing, because what really am I made up of if these things make me who I am today??????? Fuck, my brain is about to combust and I feel like sinking all over again.

{Probably}

Just a few random photos of what's been happening in my life recently.

(I actually typed quite a bit here but I guess the internet screwed up and didn't save it so oh wells let's just deal with this.)

Note: leaving is never, ever easy. #overlyattacheddaughter #overlyattachedsister