On Time And Again
Nearly three years ago, I met a boy who didn’t feel things. He was strange, and I liked strange people.
Disconnected notes on health, justice and how I’ve been
[Content warning: heavy themes and references to current events.] I spent most of 2019 living in a haze. I think, “Here is an ambiguous memory from sometime in the year,” and I think, “Here is objective knowledge of what a good memory might feel like.” I hold both thoughts in my head, but the threads between them are just fog.
The Isolation Journals, Day 9: First Line
Last night I dreamed I went to Manderley again. Though by Manderley, I mean Mahooz: the last neighborhood I lived in before leaving Bahrain.
The Isolation Journals, Day 8: Memory Mixtape
Day 8 of The Isolation Journals. A mixtape for five different memories.
Isolation Journals, Day 7: Past/Future Me
Day 7 of The Isolation Journals. Remembering my last journal entry about meeting my inner child, I decided to meet her on purpose in my meditation.
The Isolation Journals, Day 6: Inside Seeing
Day 6 of The Isolation Journals. Something happened that night that I haven’t experienced since my active reiki days. Something mundanely mystical.
The Isolation Journals, Day 4: Glorious awkwardness
Day 4 of The Isolation Journals. I’m standing at a food stall on campus when my happy crush, whom I’d only ever liked from afar, picks the same food stall to buy water from.
The Isolation Journals, Day 3: Postcards from home
Day 3 of The Isolation Journals. Today’s prompt is to write a travel entry from your own home; to explore your place of quarantine like it’s a foreign land.
The Isolation Journals, Day 2: Fine/Not Fine
Day 2 of The Isolation Journals. Sometimes you want to talk about your sadness like it’s the weather. It’s a damn shame but it is what it is. We don’t have to dwell.
The Isolation Journals, Day 1: Can I call this grief?
Day 1 of the Isolation Journals. While the feeling is specifically rooted in the global situation, it stretches out, connecting to a much earlier time.
If I could erase this year from existence
This is how I’m ending 2019: anxious, sleepless, irrational, a ghost of the girl who entered the decade. A lot of what happened this year was my doing, yet somehow none of it was my fault.
About the author
Apple is a writer, mental health advocate and practicing "witch" from Manila, Philippines. She believed in writing as a form of therapy, and so she made a blog. Follow her self-care and self-improvement diaries with activities like journaling, art projects and tarot reading. Learn more.
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