hello, I'm Joelle. :) Turns 19 on the 9th of October. Singaporean. Leisure photographer. I'm in love with Darren Criss. And Josh Hutcherson. And a myriad of fictional characters or people who don't even know of my existence.

Photos: copyright © Joelle Yong

"There comes a point when you just love someone. Not because they’re good, or bad, or anything really. You just love them. It doesn’t mean you’ll be together forever. It doesn’t mean you won’t hurt each other. It just means you love them."  - Laurell K. Hamilton, Incubus Dreams (via simply-quotes)

I should stop.

In the life of someone who writes. 

It’s easy to forget that you’re still living in this world. You have taken on the mind and body of another, troubled by his problems and swayed by his emotions. Yet he is just like a puppet, everything hangs by threads. His life is yours to manipulate. How simple, how complicated. Maybe when you start considering someone else’s life, yours pales in comparison. Maybe this is my new escape route. It has certainly worked before. Then you begin to think, I really don’t know what I’m doing.

I’m actually on partial tumblr hiatus, can you believe it? I didn’t even care when people unfollowed me. I should stop writing before I get addicted, right?

I’m feeling perfectly fine. I’m falling into depression. 

I know why.
I don’t understand why.

There are too many reasons.
There are too many excuses.

I smile and laugh.
I am scarred and scared.

I am positive for other people.
I am negative towards myself.

I am easy on other people.
I am harsh on myself.

I am so tired.
I spend my energy on useless thoughts.

I know what I should do.
I do what I shouldn’t.

I am so numb I can’t feel emotions anymore.
I sing, read and write to feel something, anything. Even if it’s pain.

I lead and teach other people.
I can’t even lead my life right.

I allow myself the most freedom.
I restrict myself the most.

I am a romantic.
I am a realist.

I can’t lie to myself.
I try to anyway.

I have a strong sense of pride.
I hurt myself the most.

I am such a contradictory person.
I contradict myself.

I want someone to notice.
I don’t want to talk about it.

Sometimes my life is such a joke, I don’t even know if I should laugh or cry. So I settle for keeping my mouth shut and making sure no one knows of my internal conflict when in reality, I battle myself everyday. It feels as though I’m living a dual life.

“Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.” 

You hurt yourself far more than anyone else.

“Everyone’s going forward, and you’re the only one stuck in time.”

Sometimes I just can’t take it, okay? 

I’m facing the consequences of an innocent child’s play. Some things aren’t meant to be jokes, some things shouldn’t be touched, some thoughts cannot be made. They tend to lead to something more than what you expected.

I’m sincerely depressed. And there are too many reasons to state. It’s so tiring.

There’s no hope if I don’t even feel like talking anymore.  

I’ve got the answer that I couldn’t give you that night. About why I called you instead of just talking to her. Because I still saw some hope in you. In this friendship. But it was completely torn apart and stomped on. My feelings. My hope. My last chance. In a lot of ways, what you said was the prelude of my thoughts that night, and why I did what I did. I’m not completely honest with you guys. But I’m not sure if you can’t stand my bluntness. Because I’ve learnt from those years of experience that you people can’t stand such directness. I don’t know what I’m doing. And I don’t know what I want. What I know is, I need a break from all of this.

Forgiveness is sacrificing your own damn pride instead of a relationship. I’ve learnt that the hard way.

But there’s no point at all. None.