Listened to Emma Stone's Audition (The Fools Who Dream) on repeat, while removing my internship company's email account from the Microsoft Team and Microsoft Outlook apps on my laptop. While shamelessly bawling my eyes. So dramatic, Hajar.
Along said I feel intensely. My laughs and my cries comes in towering highs and the Earth core's lows. I always freak my sisters when I laugh in between crying. I think my internship colleagues may I think that I was delicately sensitive, but I'd like to keep this sensitivity if that what keeps me attuned and sensitive and compassionate towards others. It's a blessing to have, it's a pain to have.
My days of unemployment are counting days to end. After this holidays for me may only come in the form of public holidays, and approved leaves.
I think December is not my month. December 2021 was spent crying over a Daniel. December 2022 is spent crying over a lost job offer.
How do you not cry over it when you sincerely thought that those are God-sent?
If they were something you prayed for, when it was briefly granted and then taken away, wouldn't it makes sense for you to grieve?
What's the difference between courage and stupidity, hope and delusion? And who gets to decide which is which?
To have hope is painful, but to have hope is necessary.
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