tala's blog

I write about fear more than I realize.

I first heard the story of Icarus in 8th grade, an ostensibly cautionary tale about a boy who flew too high.

When I was a teen, I possessed a naive supposition that, after a certain age, I would know exactly what to do.

A while ago, there was a screenshot circulating on online spaces, of someone blatantly saying you guys might be thinking about yourselves too much.

I spent years being patient about the wrong things, waiting for my time to come.

As I enter a new chapter of my life, I keep wanting to become more "disciplined" - better at my job, better at writing, better at making money.

Sometimes, I am overwhelmed by the sheer amount of existence and possibilities happening all around me.

I write this thinking of everyone who had to build themselves from scratch in a foreign country, who had to put their pride aside and took the low-wage job to make ends meet, who only have themselves for a safety net.

Recently, I come home from work and dissolve into nothingness.

There is a defiant friction between me and words that I haven't experienced in a long time, as I write (force out) this entry.