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Best Beloved: Chapter 2

A/N: Hey y'all! This is a PM AU I’ve been working on. It’s a bit different than my previous fic series and I’m really excited to try something new. I hope y’all enjoy it. This story is told in dual first-person narrative, from Kaia (F!MC) and Damien’s POV. The first half of this story takes place during Kaia’s freshman year and Damien’s senior year of college. The second half is two years after Kaia graduates. There will be sprinklings of canon in this fic, but we’ll try to step out of the box for the most part. Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback, and/or if you would like to be tagged.

Catch up here

Series Tags: @lady-calypso​ @irishwhiskys-blog​

Synopsis: What happens when you find yourself crushing on your best friend? For years, Damien and Kaia have been friends, while secretly harboring feelings for one another. Everything changes one night after a little too much alcohol and years of pent up feelings. Can they control their emotions and salvage their friendship, or will the feelings they hold for one another destroy everything they have?

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: Nadia introduces the group to her new boyfriend. Kaia and Damien get paired up for a class project.

Kaia

“Kaia! Over here,” Sloane called out from across the dining hall. I waved to her and snaked my way through the tables of cliques that made up Hartfeld’s student body. Jocks. Greek Life. Musicians. Techies. Theater Kids. When you think about it, college wasn’t that different from high school.

I arrived at the table she held for us and set my bag down next to my chair. “Nadia just text me. She’s on her way and should be here any minute.”

Sloane nodded and her stomach made an angry growling sound. “Do you mind if I go get in line now? I only had a granola bar for breakfast this morning and I’m starving.”

“Nope. Go ahead,” I told her. She smiled and made her way over to the register. I watched her scan her meal card, then happily skip over to the pizza station. I pulled out my phone and opened up my text messages to ask Nadia where she was when a high-pitched voice rang out through the dining hall.

“Kaia! There you are!” my cousin shouted as she meandered her way across the dining hall. I stood up from my seat and greeted her with a hug.

“Hey, girlie. How were your first few classes?”

“Oh. My. GODS, Kaia! I am SO excited for this semester,” she squealed. “I literally have the best schedule. It’s all art classes!”  She reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to me. “What’s your class schedule look like?” 

I pulled mine out and handed it to her. “Mostly Gen Eds. But I do have a 200 level course, which I’m kind of excited about.” I scanned her class schedule and my eyebrows dipped into a V. “You know you’re going to have to take your Gen Eds before you can take your upper-level courses, right?”

She waved me off. “I can do that next semester. College is all about having fun. Who wants to take a bunch of boring courses where stuffy professors drone on about things no one cares about?”

I shook my head and handed her back her schedule. That’s Nadia for you. She never took anything serious growing up, which both amused and worried me. She did the same thing in high school. Her advisor told her she couldn’t take all elective courses, so when it came to the end of her high school career, she had to backload a bunch of Math and Science courses just to graduate on time.

A few minutes later, Sloane approached the table, holding her lunch tray. She set it down and took a seat next to me. “You must be Nadia. I’m Sloane. It’s nice to meet you,” she said, extending her hand to Nadia.

“Oh, my gods! You are so pretty!” Nadia replied, leaning over the table and wrapping Sloane up in a hug. Sloane tensed up for a moment, then relaxed and patted Nadia on the back before they released from each other’s grips.

“So...Where’s this mysterious guy you’re so eager for me to meet? I’m starving!” I said to Nadia. At that moment, she jolted up from her seat and began waving her arms over her head.

“Steve! Come say hi to my cousin,” she said. “Guys! I want you to meet my boyfriend.” Sloane and I exchanged a glance and mouthed “boyfriend?” as a tall blond guy made his way over to our table. He was at least six feet tall and built like a tight end. I eyed the Berry High Letterman jacket he wore and was taken aback. I didn’t think that was Nadia’s type. His long locks framed his face, and he tucked a strand behind one of his ears as he approached us.

“You must be Kaia! I’ve heard so much about you ” he smiled as he extended his hand. I took it in a friendly shake.

“All good things, I hope,” I replied, side-eyeing my cousin.

She laughed, wrapping an arm around Steve’s torso. “Ignore my cynical cousin. She’s totally kidding. This is Sloane, Kaia’s friend.” He shook her hand and then he and Nadia took a seat across the table from me and Sloane.

“Sorry, I’m late. My marketing class ran late,” he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Nadia’s temple.

“No biggie, babe. You’re here now.”

Sloane and I gave each other amusing looks at Nadia's use of the word 'babe.' “So, Steve. What are you majoring in?” I asked.

His eyes lit up. “Econ & Finance. My dad runs an investment firm that I’m hoping to take over after graduation. That is if my NFL career doesn’t pan out. Got into Hartfeld on a football scholarship.”

“You play football? What position?” Sloane asked, shoving a bite of pizza in her mouth.

“Wide receiver. I was a five-star recruit coming out of high school,” he replied, pointing to the logo on his letterman jacket. “I’m hungry, babe. Ready to get something to eat?”

“Let’s go,” Nadia answered. “Come on, Kaia.” I waved to Sloane and followed Steve and Nadia up to the register. We scanned our lunch cards and Steve made a beeline for the carving station. Nadia and I moved over to the sandwich station. She decided on the Caprese Melt while I opted for the Reuben.

“Soooo...what do you think?” Nadia inquired as we stood in line for dessert.

“He seems nice. How’d you guys meet?”

“Funny story. We’re dorm neighbors. I was moving my things into my room move-in weekend, and I had some boxes piled up in front of the door. So, I’m in my room trying to set stuff down when I hear this loud crash. I run out into the hall and there he is, laying on the ground, my stuff scattered everywhere. I had set the boxes down in front of his door and when he came out of his room, he accidentally tripped over it. I thought he broke his ankle because he was rubbing it. I felt so bad. I grabbed a cold pack and brought him into my room to elevate it and put ice on it.  I asked him if there was anything I could do to make it up to him. He said, ‘Take me out to dinner and we’ll call it even.’ So I took him out Saturday night to this cute little restaurant. We got to talking. Hit it off immediately. We came back to the dorms, got a little drunk. One thing led to another, and, well…”

“STOP! For the love of gods, please stop. I do not need to hear the rest of that sentence,” I pleaded. She giggled and picked up a plate of blueberry pie, setting it on the tray next to her sandwich. “So you guys are official now?”

“As of last night,” she blushed, her eyes sparkling. Uh oh. I knew that look. I love my cousin, but she tends to fall in love way too quickly. The douchey theater kid she dated our sophomore year of high school comes to mind. They only knew each other for a few weeks, but she claimed they were in love. Her parents hated the guy and forbade her from seeing him, so she ran away from home so they could be together. Thankfully his parents found them at the train station before it took off. They shipped him off to some boarding school out west and she never heard from him again.

“Soooo...guess who I literally ran into this morning,” I said changing the subject. 

“Who?”

“Damien.”

Nadia gasped, nearly dropping her tray. I looked over at her and saw the frown on her face. She was the only one who knew of the “situation,” besides Damien and me. She was with me the days following his departure when I cried endlessly and refused to get out of bed.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. I mean, it was a shock seeing him, but I think enough time has passed where we can be around each other without shit getting awkward. Plus, I guess he has a girlfriend now.”

She sighed and reached out to touch my arm. “Let me know if you want to talk about it, okay?”

I nodded and we made our way back to the table where Sloane and Steve were chatting over their schedules.

“I heard Dr. Carson is a real hardass. I am not looking forward to that class,” she replied.

“What class is that?” Nadia asked, sitting down next to Steve. He slung an arm around the back of her chair and stuck his fork in her pie, stealing a bite.

“Calculus. Sloane and I have it at 2 today,” he said, licking the blueberry filling off his fork. Nadia watched him, eyes filled with lust and I cleared my throat to snap her out of it. “What classes do you have, Kaia?” he asked.

I slid my schedule across the table to him and he eyed it, then nodded approvingly. Nadia snuck a peek at Sloane’s schedule, then turned to me. “I’m kind of sad we don’t have any classes together this semester, Kaia. We’ll have to make sure we make time to hang out.”

“That’s your fault for not taking any Gen Eds, dork,” I replied, chucking a french fry at her. She swatted it away with her hand and laughed. The four of us talked through the remainder of our lunch hour. We discussed our majors, Steve’s football schedule, and any good parties coming up. Steve then invited us to watch the Bobcats play their first home game of the season on Saturday. Sloane commented that she had never been to a football game or a party before and we all gasped.

“Seriously, never?” Nadia questioned.

Sloane shook her head and took a sip of her Diet Coke. “I was too busy studying to participate in all that stuff. Plus, no one ever invited me.”

Nadia slammed her palm down on the table, causing all of us to jump. “That’s it, Sloane. I’m giving you your first real taste of college life. You’re coming to the Delta Mu Kappa party with us on Saturday. The quarterback on Steve’s team is a member and he’s extended an invitation to all the new freshmen. It’s kind of like a housewarming party for the new school year. You should come too, Kaia.”

Sloane looked over at me nervously. I smiled and turned back to Nadia. “Sounds fun. We can meet after Steve’s game and go together.”

“It’s a date,” Nadia said, clapping her hands together excitedly. We finished up lunch and headed off to our next classes. I made my way through the bustling crowd back to Clark Hall, where my noon class was held. Thankfully, I didn’t have to trek to the third floor this time. I arrived in room 210 for Dr. Ross’s Interpersonal Communication class. I scanned the rows of desks, looking for an open seat, and found one near the middle of the room. I made my way past the chairs filled with chatting students and claimed my spot for the semester.

I pulled out my MacBook and a bag of candy and prepared to take notes once class began when a familiar voice spoke. “Is this seat taken?”

I looked up and locked eyes with Damien. Oh. Shit.

***

Damien

“Is this seat taken?” I asked, hoping that it wasn’t.

When I walked into Dr. Ross’s classroom a few moments ago, I spotted her almost immediately. I noticed the empty seat next to her and thanked the Gods for my good luck. I moved through the rows of seats and approached where she was sitting, watching her type on her laptop. A bag of Skittles lay open on her desk. She always loved those damn things. Once a week we’d walk down to the convenience store just so she could buy them.

She looked up from her computer at the sound of my voice and her eyes immediately went wide, like she had just seen a ghost. She quickly composed herself and shook her head, motioning for me to sit down. 

I plunked down in the chair and drank in the sight of her. I couldn’t believe the girl I knew all those years ago looked like that. I was so taken aback by her bumping into me in the courtyard, I didn’t get a chance to appreciate her beauty. Her soft chocolate waves rested on her shoulder. Her deep brown eyes were the color of the earth after torrential rain. Her full lips pressed together as she chewed on the bottom one nervously. Her black and white collared shirt and A-Line skirt gave me some serious naughty schoolgirl vibes.

“Well, fancy running into you again,” I said with a laugh.

“Thankfully no humans or phones were injured in the process this time. But at least I can tell people you literally knocked me off my feet,” she quirked. Her comment drew a hearty laugh from me and several students turned around to look at us.

I winked and smiled back at her. “And no wardrobe casualties this time. My eyes traveled downward and I noticed she was no longer wearing pantyhose, giving me a view of her long legs. Down, boy I mentally told my dick. 

Her cheeks flushed and she turned away. “Yeah, I had to toss them. Can’t walk around on the first day with a run in my pantyhose. Know what I mean?” She replied, brushing away an invisible piece of lint from her skirt.

“Mmm, I know all about that. My freshman year, I went through so many pairs of pantyhose. Had to stop wearing them ‘cause I couldn’t afford to keep buying new ones. You have a lot to learn, freshman.”

She giggled, the melodic sound filling my ears. “So, what are you doing here?”

“I’m in this class.”

She burst out laughing but stopped when she noticed I wasn’t joking. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, long story. I’ll tell you about it later." 

At that moment, Dr. Ross strolled in and began the class. I pulled out my notebook, sneaking peeks of her from the corner of my eye. She was fully immersed in the lecture, typing furiously as the professor went over the syllabus. 

I remember being that eager on my first day. Taking note of every word the professor said, making sure not to miss a thing. Now, I just rely on the cliff notes and blind luck. I was pretty sure I still had my notes from the first time I attempted to take this class. I reminded myself to look for them this afternoon. I watched her for a few moments as the professor went over what to expect from this class. Her long, slender fingers glided over the keys as her lips pursed in concentration.

“Can I borrow a pencil?” I leaned in and whispered. I didn’t need one, I just wanted an excuse to talk to her. She reached into her bag and handed it to me, our fingers lightly brushing as I took it from her. Her breath hitched and she jerked her hand back like she touched a hot stove. The corner of my mouth tugged up in a small grin. 

Professor Ross moved on to discussing the series of semester group projects he had planned for us. Oh boy. Here we go again. I tried to avoid group projects for most of my college career. They’re fucking awful. One person in the group always ended up doing the majority of the work, while everyone else fucked off and still got the credit. I did, however, meet Alana through a group project, so I guessed they weren't all bad.

“Okay, class. I’m going to divide you into groups of four. When I call your name, pair up with the other members of your group and get started on an outline for your first project.” He began calling off names and students shuffled around the room to pair up with their new groupmates. “...Group 4 will be Brad King, Allison Page, Kaia Park, and Damien Nazario.”

I looked over at Kaia and she ducked her head. Well, then. I gathered up my books and followed her over to where Allison and Brad sat. My eyes involuntarily traveled down her back and landed right on her ass as her skirt swished with her movements.

Stop it, Dames. But it was no use. This was happening, and my dick couldn’t be happier. I moved my books in front of my crotch to hide the semi currently taking up residence in my pants. She took a seat where a guy with brown hair and glasses, and a girl with wavy blonde hair were sitting. I grabbed the one next to her and subtly adjusted myself.

Brad, the self-appointed group leader took one look at Kaia, making a show of slowly looking up and down her body, then held his hand out to her with a smirk. “Well, you look promising.” He glanced around the classroom, then back to her. “You’re obviously the hottest girl here, which means we definitely need to be introduced.”

“Uh...I’m Kaia,” she asked, holding out her hand for a shake.

He took her hand and drew it to his lips for a kiss. “The name’s Brad,” he replied. Of course, it was. And he was a textbook douchebag. I shot a look at Kaia and Allison, silently begging them to let me punch him.

Allison piped up. “Hi, I’m Alli-”

“Alright, let’s skip introductions and move straight to the part where you give me your number,” Douchebag Brad said, waving Allison off and wiggling his eyebrows in Kaia’s direction.

“Orrr...we could just stick to introductions so we can get on with this project.” she snapped. That’s my girl!

Brad winked at her then eyed me incredulously. “And you must be Damien.”

“Yep, that's me. Let’s get this over with so we can start assigning parts.” I said, rolling my eyes.

Douchebag Brad smirked then opened up the packet Professor Ross handed us. “Okay, everyone turn to page three, where you’ll see a list of topics for this project. I was thinking we could do the first part on the Gibbs Reflective Cycle.”

“What about the Johari window model for our first part? It’s a great method to enhance our perception of others. And it’s the perfect way to reveal information about ourselves to the rest of the group and learn about ourselves from their feedback,” Allison chimed in.

Kaia hummed and tapped her finger to her lips, drawing my eyes there. I thought back to the night of my graduation party and what they tasted like. “I like Allison’s idea for the first part. We could use it to get to know each other. Then we could use Brad’s suggestion for the second part of the project and move to Knapp’s Relationship Model for the third part,” she said, looking in my direction.

My body tensed. Was she taunting me? The rest of the group turned to me, waiting on my input. I quickly scanned the page of topics the professor gave us and picked the first one I saw. 

“Nonverbal communication seems like a good place to start,” I replied curtly, drawing looks of confusion and annoyance from the rest of my group.

Kaia sighed. “Well, it doesn't look like we’re going to agree on the first part of this project today. How about everyone pick a couple of topics that they like and we’ll compare notes in Wednesday’s class. We need to have the first part laid out by next Monday, so that gives us a few days.”

The others nodded in agreement and class was dismissed a few minutes later. We all exchanged phone numbers and Allison waved goodbye as she left the classroom. Brad extended his wrist and checked his watch. “So, Kaia. Are you doing anything tonight? We could meet at the library for a study session, then grab a bite after.”

“Uhh...I’m actually busy tonight. But I’ll see you in class on Wednesday,” she replied. He looked at me quickly in annoyance, then back at her.

“The offer’s still open,” he said, winking at her as he sauntered out of the classroom. I watched as Kaia packed up her things. She looked up at me and smiled softly, then slung her backpack over her shoulder and walked off. I trailed a respectable distance behind her, avoiding staring at her ass this time. When we exited Clark Hall, she stopped walking and turned to me.

“So, what’s your next class?”

A light breeze blew a strand of hair into her face and I had to shove my hands in my pockets to avoid touching her. “I’m done for the day. You?”

“I have College Algebra, then I’m done. You wanna get coffee after?” she asked. 

“I thought you had plans.”

She laughed. “I just said that so Brad would leave me alone. I was hoping you were free this evening. I could buy you a cup of coffee to apologize for brutally crashing into you this morning, and it will give us a chance to catch up.”  

Guilt slammed in my chest. You have a girlfriend, asshole. Remember? “Uh...I-I have plans... with my girlfriend tonight. But we can get together another time.”

“Oh…okay,” she said, not meeting my eyes. We both stood there in awkward silence for a few beats before she spoke up. “Okay, well I gotta get to class. Umm...I’ll see you later.” She gave me a quick wave before taking off in almost a dead sprint.

I knew I was doing the right thing by not leading her on, but I still felt like shit about it. I pulled out my phone and shot a text to Alana, seeing if she was free. I walked over to a bench near the center of the courtyard and sat down waiting for her reply. The afternoon sun lit up the campus with a warm glow as students moved from building to building, talking and laughing.

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed in my hand. I looked down and saw a text from Alana telling me that she had something come up and wouldn’t be able to meet me tonight. Fuck. I didn’t want to believe that she was mad, but here it was in black and white. I dragged my hand down my face and gathered my backpack before shuffling my way back to my dorm alone. 

How To NOT Be Depressed.

(Or If You Prefer — How to Be Substantially Happy About Life.) 

WARNING: This is one rollercoaster ride of a post. Proceed with extreme caution. For some, the staggering levels of insight may induce true purpose and re-establish their warrior spirit. For others, side effects may include grammatically incorrect hate or aloof eyerolls. We advise exiting if the said group includes you, for we're very tired of cleaning vomit off the seats.

Step aboard at your own risk.

If you’re one of the brave souls who stayed back to join us, I congratulate you for even I am scared of how crazy this post truly is. Alrighty then, kick back and relax folks, today we’re having a mature, adult conversation. Merely another cheery afternoon spent talking about life and its realities. Not too bad, eh?

Before we begin, spoiler alert! For those of you already turned off by the mention of 'depression’ and packing their bunnies to leave, sit tight. This ISN'T really about depression. This is about HAPPINESS. No clickbait. That got your attention, right butterfly? Nice, now stay.

A welcoming, maybe demanding A/N: Do me a favor and read this in one go. Maybe even plug in those headphones and listen to the songs dedicated to each part as you read. It's long, you have the new Riverdale episode to catch up on, but don't hop away just yet because (I had a couple moments writing this, alright) it's life changing. You'll prolly cry a few tears of realization, nod all nod-able body parts in agreement, beat your chest at random instants 'cause the hype’s too real, and perhaps, if it isn’t too much to hope for, finally go change your life for the better. In case you've forgotten, this'll remind you that there’s always hope, that you're a born conqueror, and you were made to THRIVE, not survive. Convinced? Kay, roll the cams.

   To clarify first-hand, no, I'm not depressed although I’ve experienced mild depression for a period before. Glad to say I'm out of it but I still struggle with tackling what I'm about to detail next.

Insert bitter voice, it’s this: My life is nowhere near I want it to be. Though I know vaguely what I wanna do, I haven't yet figured out how the hell I’m supposed to get there, or how my dream life is to be sketched out. It’s all a blurry mess. Which, to put it bluntly, hurts. I HATE feeling powerless and worthless, roaming about aimlessly.

There are many such moments where I hit the brakes to wonder why I’m not living THE Life already. There have been several times when I curl up and cry a frickin’ Amazon. There are horrible nights where I'm shaking with emotions, but they won't release, leaving me choked. (…not in that way, you hoes. Um, just ruined the dramatic mood with a lame dirty joke, sorry.)

   They say talking helps and that's why I figured I'd drop in. But perhaps more importantly, I wanted to hang because no matter how unfocused the lens may seem at my future, I don't consider myself a dopey loser incapable of the crazy dreams or wild bucket lists I fantasize about– and I thought I'd skip along to remind you that neither should you. (Or maybe I just came to sniff the new appetizers, who knows?)

PS: I also broke a sweat listing six ways to get outta depression– alternatively, to be more of a conqueror– because y'all are always pestering me with asks that go “how do I conquer omg send supplies” (Like, imagine a conqueror saying that! Oh, the crime, the atrocity!)

So yes, you're welcome. Have a feast with this litness.  

The main reason behind people being so frightfully sad, I’ve found, is a huge lack of fulfillment. We don't do what we love, for either— [ 1 ] we aren’t living life the way we want to (since we keep doing things we feel we're supposed to do) OR [ 2 ] because Mama, Papa and Mrs. Carter next door feel that struggling is the only way, and project their traditional beliefs onto us. Either way, whether or not we consciously realize this, subconsciously, we're all hurting because of it. Badly.

That lingering feeling of emptiness never seems to leave. You feel drained every night when you drop into bed, not because you gave it your all, but because you couldn't. And so, we do the next best thing. Drugs. Maybe not literally, but figuratively. We numb out this subconscious pain by binge watching Netflix shows. We deaden ourselves to that discomfort by reading smut in the bathroom or by playing dumb video games all day. We try (and fail) to extinguish this feeling of not ‘being enough’ by having silly flings or fake friendships.

And ultimately, we NUMB ourselves out to LIFE for we can't bear to live the way we're living. There's a reason why “How to Stop Procrastinating” posts are so popular (they’re a blogger’s most foolproof way of paying the month’s rent, and yes, even I'm guilty of a couple). We’re constantly having FOMO and tuning into others' highlights on social media– completely missing out on our own lives in the process. We fail to realize that the culprit is lack of genuine purpose more than zero self-control (or maybe it’s both, but that’s a tale for another day).

[On a side note, obviously I did generalize a bit– video games can be a passion for you, watching shows a way of winding down. But for most, they’re only DISTRACTIONS, just another way of ignoring the calls of life by hanging up the phone.]

   And here's the bitter truth about depression: The longer you wait to start living authentically, the more you start tuning out the inner cries wanting change, the faster your dreams start to ebb away, and the more you'll want to become insignificant. And to me, that's the scariest part of this journey to my dream life.

Nothing frightens me more than knowing that the moment I stop pushing, the very moment I give in to distractions and fears, my goals will stop manifesting themselves and I'll be stuck in this small town with its small people eternally. And THAT, I'm certain, won't be any more fun than working your way through a soggy ham sandwich, ironic as soggy is what life has become. (Yes, I have a thing against soggy sandwiches. They were a kid's worst lunch nightmare.)

   If you relate, and I’m sure you do (it’s probably why you stopped scrolling through cheesy fanfic for ten minutes to read this, I know you amigo) — here are six ways to NOT be depressed. Or more accurately, to gift wrap yourself some sweet ol’ happiness.

You're a Samurai and the Following Be Your Katanas —

Hol’ up. The second you reach the End Card, I want you to drop your Cheerios and implement at least THREE of these six strategies. Just follow the Takeaways, I've made this really simple. And as a rule, one of them has to be this one. (Look, don't whine. If you wanna climb outta that dark hole, you gotta put in some effort. So pop that booty, and let’s get down to business!)

Here’s the most truthful, though cheesy thing I’ll ever say: I would be nowhere I am today without this blog. If not for it, I would most likely be weeping in a dug-out hole somewhere, drowning in my salty little pond of tears and chiming every loser’s favorite words (“there's no point”). Creating this blog gave me a definite purpose – putting out fiery content, dipping myself deep into my newly found passion for writing and influencing, and connecting with other conquerors on the platform.  

I meet a lot of folks, whether at Sad School, Mouldy Mall, or Boring Bus stop, who always seem to be in a state of death-inducing boredom. When asked about their favorite thing to do, they’ll mumble “sleep” or “food” like Siri narrating your cat’s evening routine. And then you see adults, dragging through life mindlessly. Utterly clueless, floating like a piece of driftwood in an ocean bubbling with life. My sympathy quota gets overdosed everytime I think about it.

   To spell it out, find something to do. Anything! Learn a language, try some ballet, take pictures of your neighbor's rose garden, make an art piece and show it to your mom, stitch buttons onto shirts for fun, heck, make an entire shirt out of buttons, take a break from reading smut to write your own, frutify your farts, WHATEVER, just get up and move.

And here’s why – nay, not to keep you engaged or make you feel less worthless, not that bullcrap. It’s to put in gear the journey of figuring out what is the shite that you love doing. Too often we get stuck thinking about what our oh-so-great passion is. Get this, passion is energy. A spark for something. A magical fortune cookie which, when cracked, seems to explain everything, gives you the very reason for being alive. You can only feel that fire, that wild love, when you actually do it. So get cracking is all I’ll say!

Takeaway:

Attempt something. Nah, scratch that, imagine you’re in a sweet shop with shelves lined with free samples and try everything. Pick up that Polaroid cam, take that dreaded history course, buy that children’s cooking kit– in short, start working. Pull out all the stops, get curious, and get creative. In the process, if you promise to try hard enough, you WILL (money back guarantee) find out what makes your little heart burst with mad happiness and would willingly do for free, if needed, because you really are that crazy about it. And that, my dear, will be your oh-so-great-indeed passion. Have no doubt, you’ll never be “bored” again.

Real talk, having a dream is a big deal. And unfortunately, I’ve witnessed, rarely anyone has one to begin with. They’re either more dead than the cheap skeleton I bought for Halloween or believe they have a dream, but in reality, it belongs to mom, dad, or Uncle Sammy. Listen, doing something for someone you love (my Uncle Sammy used to supply me with cold cash whenever he came around, loved that guy) is great! YET, if you’re willing to throw away your life to fulfill others’ expectations, convincing yourself it's because they love you, even when YOUR lonely heart craves bigger things than just a marketing job, then you, my friend? Are the biggest fool. Don’t get offended, we both know it, this girl needn't ramble.

Recently, my relatives were over (nope, sadly not Uncle Sammy) and my cousin and I had a chat about life (correct, I grab every opportunity to do so). It wasn't very exciting I must say, he kept staring off into the distance (I wonder why), but what he SAID is what I'll talk about. After I’d gushed about my dreams, he asked skeptically if being an influencer would still be an ambition two years from now when I graduate. I raised my eyebrows, mock hurt, like eff you son, I ain’t giving up on my dreams! But that question got me thinking.

Life is wild. Unpredictable. An unexpected call, a single person, a random BLOG POST (cough) – can turn your life upside down, sometimes in the affirmative, other times not. This variability of life isn’t uncommon, and everyone experiences some part of it– unpaid student loans, failing startups, talent and art going unnoticed in industries dominated by wealth and connections, you name it. If all of that doesn’t make you run for the Himalayas and abandon any dreams, throw in a quick side dish of dysfunctionale famiglia with a sprinkle of self-image issues.

It ain’t easy, darling. The world is one cruel headmistress; it loves slapping awake the daydreamers and wishful thinkers. That hasn't ever actually stopped the dropouts and class clowns from building castles in the air though. And the common blueprint you notice they follow? Let me introduce you to…  Madness. Obsession. Maniacal obsession, to say. (Yes, I'm done playing with my words.)

   I struggled writing this point. A pestering voice in my head kept mumbling – They'll go back to doing the same sad shit anyway. Um, does anyone even read your posts? Lol, call yourself an influencer, hun. Hesitation started creeping in. Then the irony of the situation struck me. I laughed, shook my head and got back to typing.

We ran out of juicy gossip weeks ago, so here’s your tea served cold: insecurities and self doubt WILL get in the way. That whiny voice was just a mild version of what you face when you go all in. Fear traps you in its cage, and those who prattled behind your back now progress to talking shit in your face. Criticism and self doubt resurfaces, so unless your defenses are strong, you'll be crushed. Destroyed REAL quick.

When hell breaks loose (oh honey, and it WILL), your self defense comprising of maniacal obsession must be well learnt. Let them attack, mock, heck, drag you away from the desk and hurl you at the top of a damn mountain, but you better STILL hike back down, show them the middle finger, and continue working. That's how bulletproof you've gotta be. That's how madly do you have to love your dreams. And if you really think this will be a cake walk or want to continue complaining about Stuart being born with a silver spoon, hop off the train already. Your destination isn't on the tour list.

Look, my dreams terrify me. But they certainly make me feel more alive than complying with what every parent said about getting good grades and holding together a roof on my head. My ambitions set me free, give me a reason to fucking live. And yet, every now and then, something makes me question them. A fear engulfs me, some doubter proclaims I suck, someone I love is so blinded they can't see my vision. And that's okay. My defenses are way stronger. The next day rolls round, and you'll find me hustling again, thriving again. All because I know that even if no one reads my posts (the worst case scenario, I know y'all love me lol), someday in the future, someone will. I know that even if I’m not an influencer yet, if just one reader becomes a conqueror because of my words, it would be a win. A big win. I'd have done my job. All because I’m wildly, yes maniacally, obsessed with my dreams.

So hey, cousin? This influencer thing? This will be my dream long after I've graduated. Till the day I die, and maybe even then I'll rise from my grave to give a dead pal a lively pep talk. My watchtower has just been upgraded, so thank u, next.

Takeaway: 

“General, we've arrived!” Finally! Position those cannons, Martha, let’s talk them through the defenses. All aboard? AHOY MATEY! (wait, that was one for the pirates). Step one, dare to create a dream in your mind’s eye. The bigger, the crazier, and the scarier, the better. Doesn’t matter how impossible it is, don’t care how many voice their opinion against it, just imagine, keep a million possibilities in mind.

Once you see the life you truly want (you’ll know, everything will seem to zing)— have a sip. Become OBSESSED for that life. Thirst after that vision, itch to manifest it, and pine for the satisfaction that’ll come to your soul once it’s made a reality. Fall madly in love with the process and how magical it feel when you do it. And THEN, bellow a loud war cry and charge headfirst into battle, shields held high at all the criticisms. We conquerors never cared much for them anyway.

(play ♬) Picture this: forehead stamped with beads of sweat. Calloused hands working their fingers to the bone and eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. Conjure an image where powerful beats are pulsing hard in your ears, synced with your own elevated heartbeats, and you’re thriving. Performing. Winning. Guess the secret to that? Preparation. Champions prepare. You can’t throw anything to the winds or rely on ‘luck’ or chance to conquer.

Tough days are in everyone’s calendar, be it your extra cheerful neighbor, Sally, or lone wolf classmate, Derrick. We’ve all found ourselves sulking over an awful situation, scooping into mint ice cream to forget mistakes, errands, and ghosting exes. Yet guess what? The solution isn’t the proclaimed “be positive!” or “It all happens for a reason, don’t you worry” - the key is coming up with a method to dodge the discouraging effect these hiccups have on us.   

So every bad day, I bring out a mason jar containing a knot of chits and one secret letter which is, on most days, kept hidden on the top shelf of my cupboard. I make myself comfortable on the bed, read all my bits of paper carefully, including the letter addressed to yours truly, close my eyes, and mentally fight back whatever’s bringing me down.

A short while later, I get up, now a warrior, and go slay the rest of the day like it was my last one on this planet. That jar is my jar. A Conqueror’s jar. One look at those powerful reminders, and I’m grounded once again, the beast within me now unleashed to kill.

Takeaway:

Honey, go get yourself a jar. Along with some papyrus and ink. Then start jotting down. Document past victories, future visions, fears that mean zilch to the person you’re about to become, batty goals you’ve still gotta chase, reminders that the majority will never understand what it is you’re tryna do here, and how that’s perfectly alright 'cause you'll find your conquerors, your squad one day. Create your victory jar. And then go knock ‘em down dead. Bad days stand no chance against you. You’re a winner, a fucking rebel. Go take what’s yours.

Y’know, I’m perfectly aware that many muggles reading this will whine that dealing with depression ain’t no piece o’ pie and it’s hella hard to get up and take the crown when you feel like a pile of dino dung.

Stop it. Get some help. (See what I did? Like Michael- ok ok, calm thyself.) For real though, and I’m tired of repeating this with my kitten stamped microphone (but I’ll keep at it ‘cause it’s that significant) – whining is WORTHLESS. It saps up precious energy that could be used to make life a scrumptious smoothie. (Loothie? As in life + smoothie? Right, yes, I’m shutting up.)

And even THEN, we find denizens complaining about slow WiFis and thin crust pizzas and how the market’s down and the government’s incompetent. Because blabbering makes us feel important. Heard. But keeping yo’ trap shut and actually doing stuff? Hustling for your dreams when nobody’s watching? Actually walking the talk? C’mon, Emma, don't be naive, ain’t nobody getting recognition for that.

Trust me, I get it. The world is yet to become a feminist, turns out your boyfriend was cheating on you while you were looking up wedding dresses, mommy’s a drunk loser, and idiots are being voted into office. It’s a lot to handle. But thanks to our immense and ever increasing population (we folks really love our rumpy pumpy, can you tell) — there will surely be one chum, facing exactly the same misfortunes as you, but still turning up at every party and bulk-spamming his friends with puppy pictures while you sit and wail. (One Moaning Myrtle is enough, thank you very much.)

Look, I’m not undermining your worries or obstacles. I’m only reminding that you have the marvelous choice of positivity. To CHOOSE hope and a better future when others won't. To FIND (and it's always possible) something to look forward to even when the to-do’s a big snore. To KNOW, deep inside, that you're a magnificent conqueror, no matter what mess you’re in at the moment, and that the world dances to your rhythm. Realise that it's up to you to let yourself be happy. At any moment, you have the very say-so to get up and start rocking. Dumbledore said it himself, “It is our choices, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” So choose better, and you’ll unconsciously do better as well. And yes, that being said, this is the last HP reference, don't fret. Be positive instead. (Edit: Ha, look at these quips, the girl's all grown up now.)

Takeaway: 

Your new occupation is to be a sunflower. If you think back, you'll probably recall Miss Honey rattling on about phototropic movement in AP biology. No? Me neither. Point is, sunflowers always face the sun. Put them ANYWHERE, hide them in the dungeons, throw them in a trash bag and shoot it off to the moon, they’ll still turn around and face the sun. No matter what. And taking inspo from that, you too can stop scripting creative soliloquies for being depressed. Happiness is YOUR right, YOUR priority, don't let anyone take it away from you or diminish its importance. DON’T let sadness ruin your vibe, do what you've gotta do to protect yourself. Track happiness in yo’ journal, set 84 reminders on your phone, and tattoo “Long as you’re beaming up at the sun, all the shadows will be left behind” on your boobs. Do whatever, just don’t turn the corners of your mouth down. You’re so pretty this way.

The other day, I was doing the deathly Plié Alternative Heel Lifts (these names, I swear) and my legs felt dead. Gone. Put to sleep like the Wicked Witch of the East. Now obviously, the timer wasn’t not even halfway done yet, but my cheeks were already flushing red like dear Santa, and NOT because I was high on choco chip cookies. I sighed, and at that point, I was so over giving up. All this while, I’d been whining and protesting because my muscles felt sore, but in that moment, I made up my mind. I bit my lip and kept going. On and on. Keep pulsing, you got it, don't stop, was the mantra I kept chanting.

   Won’t sugarcoat it, I honestly hadn’t died this much since that time Miss Honey buried me alive with trig assignments. My legs were now basically Play-doh and I was shaking, fighting for balance. A few seconds in though, something crazy happened. My legs went numb. My grumbling mind quietened and the pain vanished. That evening, I had the upper hand, not my physical perceptions of myself. I was powerful. Flawless. (Hey Santa, do you even lift bro?) Real talk, I was in the Zone, bitches.

I’m not sure if that was the result of excessive pain or because Wonder Woman’s spirit possessed ma bod, but staying loyal to my love for metaphors, I’ll use the experience to explain what I’m tryna get at here.

   Look, here’s the real deal — if all of the greats gave up the second things got frowny, we probably would have no one to worship. Nix role models, nix inspirations, none to stalk on Insta - we’d all be bumbling about like Sad from the even sadder Emoji movie (no shade, emojis be lit).

And that'd be very sad (pun definitely intended). Hence, cue some tangible ways to boosting your grit, so that you can be your own superhero:

1) Get yo’self a goddamn motto,

2) Know your “Why,”

3) Repeat the cycle till it’s in your blood. Btw, Shawn, if you here, I’m still a single pringl—HEY PAL I SEE YOU, DON'T SCROLL.

Seriously, don't brush these prime steps aside. We're always going for the advanced modes, and deeming these basic levels a waste of time. Well guess what, compadre, YOUR LIFE IS A GODDAMN WASTE O’ TIME IF YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR BASICS RIGHT. Excuse my outburst, but listen. You can’t do a hundred bicep curls on your first workout if you haven't lifted anything more than a crisps packet. Likewise, if you simply jump into Life one day, and decide “ok, here it is, 12 habits to build, sleep schedule to fix, man to ask out, let's go,” you ain't getting nowhere, chum. Start small. Take baby steps. It's clearly not as fun (definitely negates the bragging on Facebook part of it) but it'll stick. You’ll create a consistency that not even Grandma's cake batter can achieve.

1. Talking mottos — For context, a motto that I always mutter (my mom thinks I'm cursing, oh what a bad child) every time I spill milk while making coffee is “Do more. Give more. BE more.” Not only does it help me stay right on track for the rest of the day but it helps me clean up my mess, figuratively and otherwise, or I’d just be sitting in a puddle of spilt milk, cursing adulting for real this time and with more laundry to do.

2. Why you need the Big Why — Owning up, I’m guilty of attempting to learn Welsh for less than 48 hours because I hadn't a single reason to speak the language. A similar thing happened with half of my 2018 resolutions, which had a bunch of rubbish like “Floss daily”, something my eyes got trained to skip because, um, who the hell flosses every day?

Lame humor aside, I still workout almost daily because I have my Why straight. 1) I want to feel good about my body and get closer to the confident badass I envision my future self to be, 2) I simply HAVE to sustain my health to live to build my legacy and fulfill my dreams of opening a bakery at 90 and 3) Because I’m an influencer, and want to walk my talk and be the inspiration people need. Those are the reasons as to why I turn up to my yoga mat everyday, shut my jabbering mind, and keep on pulsing. This “Why” strategy applies to everything. Wanna get outta depression? Why? Wanna lose 20 pounds? Why? Wanna listen to your dentist’s desperate pleadings and floss already? WHY EH? Unless you know your intentions, you’ll give up at the first chance you get to not act on your goals. And watch out, because there'll be a LOT of those.

For me, leaving a legacy behind means more than having a slice of cake or missing a workout because there’s a fun movie playing. Find what's important to YOU, make it your why, and go marry your goals.

3. And then, Repeat — Bear in mind, if you're not living your best life yet, there are NO weekends. NO work-shy days. No weak days, no pick-me-up days, no eat-candy-do-nothing days. Everyday is a damn Monday. EVERYDAY is life or death. Every holy day you wake up is a chance to push your limits, challenge your mindset, and see how far you can go. And every 24 hours, when the cycle starts again, it’s your mission to race to build a stronger, wiser and crazier you.

And who knows, perhaps one day, you and I will just be casually sipping tea in our dream home, laughing at how the milk is still being spilt but knowing, proudly, fiercely, that we’ve come so far, even though there’s still more left to do, more to give and so much more to be.

Takeaway: 

Quit quitting. You're, guaranteed, 20x stronger than you think. I doubted I could go through with the workout, it seemed beyond my present physical capabilities. But I did, because I treated it as life or death. Understand this, the second you start making excuses, for being depressed, for taking an unnecessary day off - you give away your power. You are a very powerful being. You're limitless, capable of everything.

I'm not throwing these words around to make you feel cute, I actually mean AND believe them. There’s so much that's been done already— the iconic four minute mile by Roger Bannister, invention of the light bulb, cars, toothpaste and other junk, people who lost both legs and climbed Mt. Everest, we sent a man to moon in frickin’ 1969 (50 YEARS ago), some ran a 26 mile marathon with zero training, love and hope is still strong in this world, oh let's also add coffee and motivational music— and YOU think you can't finish a workout or get outta depression or meet your idols or marry the man of your dreams or become the artist you wanna be? Ridiculous. Don't give away your power that easily, this ain't no charity shop.

(play ♬) Having personally dealt with unwelcome yet familiar feelings of emptiness quite often, I’ve now reached a point where each bad day is simply a reminder of how long my journey ahead is, and just how badly I want to reach my destination.

We finally near the end of this novel of a post (thanks for sticking around, bud), and my best advice would be this: Rather than wallowing in self pity and throwing one-man parties because your life is so awfully dreadful, know that even when life throws you to the floor, long as you can look up, long as you can read an entire book about defeating depression (cough)– you can GET UP too. Let those emotions of sorrow and frustration blaze up into a roaring, crackling fire that doesn’t consume you, but instead, urges you, fuels you.

Lately, no matter how much shit I go through, how many arguments I tumble into, or how barren my dreams look sometimes, I don’t break down. And no, it wasn't always like this. I never even had aspirations to name two years ago. Six months back, it had become a night routine to cry. Not anymore.

Now, every setback and every failure only pushes me to be stronger and give more than I ever gave. The day I made the decision to Conquer (truly, madly, deeply, with all of my heart) was also the day I said a big, loud ‘fuck you’ to every resistance that was to cross my path. I had finally understood that life was nothing but a battle of WILLS, that it was all in or nothing, and I made up my mind once and for all to NEVER give in to depression, or to society, or to anyone who tells me I cannot make it.

I had conquered depression. There was no looking back now.

Takeaway: 

Here’s something no one will tell you: the key to bringing depression to its knees is seeing it positively. Pretend that it's a friend continuously sending strong, aggressive signals urging you to be happy. And what do you do when a caring friend throws some holy light? You listen, push past your ego, and follow accordingly.

And if that parallel seems unconvincing, here's another one (sup, DJ Khaled. This post is turning musical, sorry): it's scared of you. Depression is scared shit of you. Y'know how bullies are, right? Majorly insecure, self-loathing too perhaps, hardly fans of self love, and always trying to numb all that subconscious pain by inflicting pain on others. Depression has the same instruction manual. Your fears and doubts are your (pathetic) bullies, and depression is the big ol’ crony who does the dirty work for 'em.

Whenever you decide shit this is it, I'm going for it, they go paranoid and try stopping you because they've seen no better. And if they succeed, BOOM, you're depressed, paralyzed, your qualms reigning over you again. Don't let them in. I'll say it a thousand times if I gotta because I want (HAVE) to see you conquer – you're so much stronger than you think you are. You can do so much more than you think. It's all in your head! Don't just sit there, click away, and go back to living a sad life. You’re better than that. DO better than that. You’re meant to freaking CONQUER, straight-up dominate, my pal. Pay heed to that voice craving freedom. You got this. And you better know it.

One thing’s fixed like the (beloved by all) proportionality constants in Physics, you will come across depressing mornings and sluggish evenings even in the future. I assure you. Lots o’ bad hair days in the calendar, sis. But here's what you’ll do: you'll deactivate the miserable thoughts, keep a cool head, remind yourself that this is yet another test (better, rap your new mantra) and USE that hurt, pain, and anger to create a fervor and passion that wreaks havoc on its obstacles and drives you to accomplish EVERYTHING you've ever wanted to do. The easy choice would be to just give up, bellyache about the situation, and want sympathy for your worries. Yet, what you'll never do is… exactly that.

Rule 1) NEVER give up. Stand your ground. Have faith in your strength. Know that you'll have your way soon enough anyway. Rule 2) NEVER complain. All it does is drain your energy, that precious fire you could to high jump your way into the clouds. Makes you a pathetic wimp too, definitely not something you want on a warrior’s resume. Lastly, Rule 3) NEVER seek validation. From anyone. It sure feels nice to be acknowledged and encouraged, but grasp this— this is your journey. YOUR life and YOUR vision. Validation won't get you anywhere, for there'll never be enough of it.

Cuz Marty, if you're tryna bring something new, different, and authentic into this world – you'll most likely be hated on badly, before you'll be loved madly (hi, me a rapper). Learn to invite hate instead—IMPORTANT: hate from others, not yourself. Sounds counterintuitive, but this is the real tea: hate is good. It means you're standing up for something, refusing to fit like a puzzle piece in society, and being UNAPOLOGETICALLY yourself. And it’s certainly a sign that you’re on the right path if you can ignore that hate and stick your tongue out at it.  

Yet another reason to never seek validation is simply this: you have to fight for yourself. In order to meet your own expectations, reach the doorstep of the best version of you, and transform this world, you'll have to go wildly IN. Toil and hammer away. Shut out all the haters and non-believers, listening only to your gut. Importantly, learn to accept the rejection slips, validating yourself not with what Molly says about it being okay, but with the reminder that your time is coming soon. Depend on yourself. Validation will NEVER be enough.

I get it, it's a lot of homework, but perhaps you already realize that it’s THIS work that'll change your life forever. Not “how to not procrastinate, Jesus take the wheel” or “HELLO, life's a mess so here are ten things to do (you won't believe number four!)”. Clickbaits don't work, stop believing that a fancy planner is going to be your savior. There is no rule to making your life a masterpiece. You'll have to get to know yourself and your dreams (journaling, meditation, silent pondering), build the work ethics and the mentality needed (lots of work in this one, yet no strict framework to go about it) and GET GOING.

AND with that firework, I'll begin to slip away now. Again, I won’t say it’s easy, that’s cock and bull. Life’s no fairytale. You will never feel ready to start bringing your dreams to fruition. But, my darling (I’m being so nice yo, follow me), you must. You must force yourself to work for the future you want till it becomes a habit, an obsession. The world badly needs heroes; confident people who can stand for themselves so that others can stare at first, maybe even hate a little, but then follow because they seem unstoppable and are, truthfully, having the most fun at life. YOU'RE one of them. No validation, just plain facts.

You see, conquering is a LOT of blood and sweat (K-pop, anyone? BTS? Lmao, this is me tryna clickbait y'all to read). Even getting up will seem huge when you're just starting out, and this is one long road, dear pal. Still then, I have enough faith in you to hope you don't give into your fears, I hope you willingly chase discomfort, and I hope you find the courage to do all that you want to do, while that heart's still beating.

I hope you conquer. I'll do too, and I'd really like to see some familiar faces during the ride.

Peace, amigo.

A loud ass A/N: And now, we come the most important part of this post. WAKE UP Luke, stop snoring, and take some notes. Remember kids, I won't accept anything but an A.

   If you couldn’t identify yourself throughout this post and currently are scoffing like um woman, that's not really why I'm depressed, hang in there a sec. Yes, you can stop singing It Ain’t Me now. You've a very nice voice by the way.

I'm not a doctor, and I don't have enough exposure to know why so many earthlings are depressed today. HOWEVER, by talking to many, following their stories, watching and reading stuff – I do know with firm conviction that a majority suffers from severe unfulfillment. Don't believe me? A study shows 85% of the working class worldwide hate their jobs. Do you realize what that actually means? EIGHTY-FIVE PERCENT of the THREE BILLION PEOPLE employed today, hate being employed in the first place! They do it for prime survival, to sustain themselves. And that's just jobs. I won't scare you, but 50% (yes, HALF, you heard that right) of students HATE going to school. Kids waste SEVEN hours of their life every day going somewhere they dislike, doing something they hate. Who's singing now?

People find themselves trapped in golden handcuffs, taking the paycheck despite the passionless job. They push aside the art and business they love, to become a slave of good ol’ cash. Several surround themselves with negativity and get frustrated when unable to escape the choking (no, not THAT kind again, hello someone pour holy water over this post) atmosphere. An innumerable are forced into taking up courses that they don't care about under parental pressure. The reasons are endless, and I don't think I'll amuse myself listing all the sad excuses.

This has always been the story. Hundreds of influencers have preached the same words I’m tryna put into your head here and you’ll yourself say you’ve heard this a million times. YET, you’re dissatisfied. YET, you feel like crap everyday, feeding yourself the same lie that the next day will be better, that you’ll get up tomorrow– while you let life beat the shit out of you.

That’s why, all of my words, everything you’ve read today - all of that boils down to just one single question. A difficult but necessary choice. Will you let this happen to YOU? Will you, seriously, even after this wild ride together, go back to doing nothing and being nothing? Will you, for real, continue deceiving yourself, sacrifice your happiness for the sake of pleasing everyone else, and remain a statistic on a website?

   (play ♬) If you’re not sure of your answer, read: Look, making you feel guilty is not my intention, because that’s not how this works. I need you to understand instead. Guilt wears off, it’s only understanding that brings about change. So, just for old times’ sake, I’ll rant a bit more (ik, just can’t seem to leave y’all).

You’re so, so young right now. More than half of your life is yet to be experienced. None of this probably makes much impact right now but it will the day you die. Remember, on your deathbed, you won't EVER look back and say, “Damn, wish I'd spent more time at the office. Saved up just one more dollar. Could’ve got that promotion before Amy.” Nay, it won’t even be on the calendar. That day, one foot in the grave, you'll reflect and wonder why the heck you didn’t let yourself be happier. Why you took up that lacklustre, soul-sucking architect job when all you've ever wanted to do is keep laughing. Why you didn't ask your crush out, why you were so afraid to walk up to that audition, because dammit, you could’ve been running your own comedy show by now. Why you dragged around a karaoke machine all this time instead of singing your own song. Why you couldn’t love yourself. Why you submitted. Why.

And the moment you realize that you hadn't lived a life for you, you’ll be crushed. Broken. The arthritis in your grannie joints won't even compare and neither will the mild dissatisfaction you’re feeling right now. Those whys will haunt you, they'll terrorize you, break you. It'll hurt tremendously to know that there isn't a single thing in your long life that you could call completely your own.

 With every death today so many dreams are left unachieved, crazy things left unchecked on the bucket list, and unique potential left unexpressed.

DON'T let that be you. Please. I'm still a mess myself, struggling to reach class on time and studying subjects that aren't exactly fun, when all I want to do is create content (read: fireworks) that is at a level of insanity, influence folks to do better, hold crazy world tours and meet-and-greets to give hugs, and get an adorable puppy so I can create a dogstagram (yes, I'm that mom). Sure, I could declare it's too hard, hang onto small-minded and negative people who whine endlessly, and follow the crowd, getting lost in it, with ease.

But I won’t because I can’t take the burden of those regrets. That painful unrest and discontent that nothing could cure, not drugs, alcohol, buddies, not even true love. For then I’d be just another drone, my controller in the hands of society, forcing me to see the world through its eyes. I can’t give in because I’m scared, terrified even, of wasting away this one life doing the bidding of others- folks who won't even notice when I’m gone.

It’s easy to be depressed and crib your entire life. It’s easy to think you’re worthless and that trying is pointless since nothing ever goes your way.

But perhaps, if you rise, if you simply DECIDE to have the audacity to fight for what you believe in, if you work and focus on becoming better, things will go your way. Life will bend to you, in awe, at your incredible relentlessness. Life will take one look at you, wonder who the fuck is this person? How the fuck are they so incapable of giving up? And back right away. And then perhaps, life will be such a blast for you that depression would become the past you never had.

   I know you can get there, conqueror. It’s time you knew it too.

🌚🌝 Further reading? 🌝🌚

Last Post :— How To Get Back Into The Creative Process – For you, if you're in a creative rut. Get outta it and go create magic!

5 Reasons Why You're Unhappy — To help you identify & cut out CURRENT sources of sadness so that you can spice up yo’ life with some happiness instead. Definitely recommend reading AND implementing.

The Bubble Trap & How To Get Out Of It — One of my classics. Everyone is in one of these 'bubbles’ till they consciously do something about it; that's just how it is. Are you still in one? (Someone teach me marketing, lmao.)

The 5 Biggest Regrets of The Dying (from Greatist) — I LOVED reading this. Pretty much all you need to cut the crap and do meaningful stuff. Read it, memorize it, work it.

++ Want to request a blog post? Leave your request in my ask box! I'll get back to you with a reply, along with the average time I'll need to birth that magical idea.

Thanks for dropping by! It was a pleasure to have you around. If you wish to stick for a bit, I'd suggest picking one of the related posts mentioned above.

If you wanna check out my blog, here's a little something about me (y'all know I love the attention). What do I write about? Three arenas I dominate, Work, Lifestyle and Life, they are, my mate! Take your pick!

I post new blog posts bi-weekly, and my wins, & journal entries throughout the week, so follow me if you're into conquering life, leaving a legacy and being the baddest badass you can possibly be. I'll be your side pal, cheering you along.✨

And that was it, it's a wrap! Martha, shut the cams, Henry, pause the audio, and Nandita, I know you're pretending to be deaf, but Mom's yelling something about doing the dishes. Better skip along.

And you, fellow conqueror? Keep slaying life, doing the work and making it count. I hope you're well, stay strong and go conquer life. ✧

I'm sending you so much love, see you soon.

— Nandini 💌 (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

How to become an early riser in one week*

(*approximately)

A handy-dandy, non-comprehensive guide to fixing your sleep schedule - by me, a 20-something bitch for whom the following tips have kind of sort of worked (so far)

Preface

If you’re reading this, chances are that you are a human life form. There is a general consensus that I’m sure studies will back up (if you know any pls link me) that us humans… we’re sort of biologically designed to function in daylight, and rest in a vulnerable, unconscious state at night time to recuperate, heal, process and refresh. Y'all with me so far?

With the introduction of fire and then electric light, we have made the dark less scary and long-lived, but also less accessible. We sleep whenever it suits us, and for the average Tumblr user I’d wager (again, studies to support this are very welcome) that’s later and longer than biologically recommended (unless you have an early morning commitment of some kind, in which case it’s likely you’re staying up too late, and that makes you tired the next morning when you force yourself to get up). All that’s still fine, I guess, I’ve know many a high-functioning sleepless person - unless it’s making you miserable, or you think it’s in the way of your productivity or mental health, or if you just like a challenge.

For the benefit of any and all of you (except the challenge guys, you might be a little disappointed cause it’s not actually THAT hard) - I present the following step-by-step guide to reclaiming more sunlight in your life, bc it’s all about that vitamin D, babey!

So - here’s the deal.

Day 1

Go about your business as usual. This requires no specific preparation, i. e. you could start right now. All you have to do on day 1 is: not sleep. At all. Pull an all-nighter.

(And trust me this works much quicker and better than the method of getting up a little earlier every day and going to bed a little earlier. That’ll just have you lying awake for way too long cause you’re not tired. You wanna be TIRED.)

Day 2

Again, go about your business as usual. You may experience typical sleep deprivation symptoms such as

- fluctuating mood

- energy swings from super tired to WIDE AWAKE AND ENERGIZED

- strange thought spirals brought on by exhaustion

- random laughter

- lapses in concentration and judgement

… basically, you don’t want to be writing a final, or making life-changing decisions on this day, but otherwise you should do what you usually do. Don’t take the day off, you will waste time with weird shit - but don’t work yourself to death either, okay? Be safe. You’re not gonna be at your best today.

You only have 2 jobs on day 2 - don’t make reckless decisions, and go to bed early. Oh, and for the love of God don’t drink coffee, black or green tea, energy drinks, coke or any other similar caffeinated substances after noon. You will regret it. (Also, make this a general habit, not just for day 2. You often don’t even realize how much caffeine affects you - less of it will help you fall asleep in the evenings so much easier. Also also, this is a different topic but it ties into general health - you should not be drinking soda or other sugary drinks as your main source of liquid. Just stick to water, honestly, or tea. Fresh juices are also neat. Your body will thank you.)

For the purposes of this example, let’s say you wanna get up at 7 or 8am - so go to bed at 9pm. You don’t need 11 hours of sleep every day, but you might want them after an all-nighter (and it’ll be a little easier to get up if you feel well-rested).

Day 3

Day 3 is the game-changer, and probably the hardest day of them all. Your job on day 3 is to Get. UP.

Set an alarm. Set five alarms. Ask a friend or parent or Responsible Person to call you in the morning and make conversation for ten minutes, enough to wake you up. Tear open your window - let in light and air. Wash your face with cold water. Take a shower with cold water if you dare, or just a shower in general. Plan something to make you want to or have to get up - for example: doctor’s appointment, hairdresser, breakfast date, meditation, exercise, fancy new cereal you’ve always wanted to try, pancakes, waffles, fresh fruit in yoghurt, a new brand of coffee or tea, a show you’ll watch over breakfast.

Anything goes here, but give yourself a reason to get up. Some people work with rewards, others need incentives by Higher Powers (such as an obligation to not be late to an appointment) as motivation. Figure out what works for you - it might take a couple days of experimenting. (hence the *approximately)

Don’t go to bed much later than you did on day 2. An hour or so is okay. Your body will want to revert to your old habits - but we are smarter now and are establishing new ones.

Some general advice - get away from your screens (phone, TV, computer) at least 30 minutes before you want to sleep. Their blue-toned light is a sleep KILLER. Adjust screen brightnesses to be redder wherever you can. Fiddle with the settings, you might be pleasantly surprised.

Also - take these extra thirty minutes to do something for yourself. Face mask. Meditation. Read a book. Start a journal (art, writing, scrapbook). Play a board or card game with a roommate or sibling, if available. Cuddle your pet or partner. Listen to an audio book or your favorite album - or, and this is a fun one, ask your friends to make you lists of their favorite songs for you to discover! Nothing like lying on your bed and listening to a song that’s important to someone who’s important to you.

Also! Rope your friends into this if you’re all late risers. It’s more fun to do these things together! And notify your international friends of what you’re trying to do - maybe you’ll be around a little less to talk to them at times that are inconvenient for you, but there are always solutions. Communication is key!!!

Day 4

Day 4 is probably the second hardest day. If you’ve come this far, you’re likely to fall back because you’re not careful enough in preserving the delicate new habits you are building. A habit is like a path you walk down - old ones are well-worn, easy to follow and familiar, new ones are still full of thorns and super hard to see. The temptation of the old path will be ever-present, and sneak up on you on days 4 and 5 if you’re not diligent.

Get up, again, like on day 3 - and this will be hard, but if you’ve found an incentive or method that works, you should manage it. Use your day 3 experience, or try something new!

And then you need to get to bed at a similar time as on day 3. We’re not aiming for a precise “I go to bed at 9:31 and wake up at 6am” kind of schedule, just the general ballpark of “earlier”.

What I found helpful here is to do things that tire you out. Exercise, high-energy events, full schedules - power yourself out so that getting to bed earlier is easier, and you’ll feel like you’ve accomplished something that day. The human brain needs a sense of satisfaction before a good rest.

Day 5

...basically day 4, rinse and repeat. Don’t get discouraged if you’re not keeping to the schedule as strictly as you might want - it’s a process, and you’re doing great so far, even if you overslept a bit, even if you couldn’t fall asleep as quickly as you wanted to. These things take time and perseverance! Also, you're probably not a robot so a bit of leeway is totally fine.

Day 6

Your new schedule should be becoming easier to follow - and your new habits (if you’re implementing any of them; less screen-time, more motivated mornings, different scheduling etc) should be settling in nicely by now. You could already be noticing changes to your mood - from the satisfaction of achievement and taking control of these aspects of your life, and also from increased exposure to natural light and decreased exposure to artificial light, and late-night thought spirals. Those will decrease more and more, the healthier your body feels! You’re on the right track!

Day 7

Getting out of bed earlier should be… not effortless yet, maybe, but no longer a chore. If you have reached this stage, congratulations?? You’ve effectively begun to change your sleep schedule!! It will take another week or two to feel completely natural and require fewer incentives, but for all intents and purposes you are on the best path to getting there now! Keep in mind the basic tips I’ve shared, and the things you’ve learned about your own behaviour, and you’ll be comfortable with early (or earlier) mornings in no time!!

Ironically, I wrote this guide instead of going to bed and I will regret this tomorrow - but we had a time change today so I’ll let it slide. As you see, this guide is not idiocy-resistant or dumbass-decision-proof - that’ll be up to you.

Feel free to reblog this with your own advice and experience, or @ me if you have questions haha

Sleep well!!

Chapter 2 - Bigfoot arrives

Bigfoot stepped out of the cab and into the Sun. The fresh San Diego air helped settle his stomach, still churning from the nearly 6 hour flight from Connecticut. He looked up from under his cap at the house he had arrived at. It was fairly big, on a large property. The garden and yard had been well taken care of with fresh green grass and bougainvillea's blooming. A cute white picket fence about half a meter tall surrounded the perimeter. The house itself however, seemed a bit run down, if not decrepit, from the outside at least. The gray paint was peeling and fading and the black roof shingles were covered in layers of dirt. Wood from the windowsills were crumbling and coming loose. Bigfoot scratched at his beard and checked his phone. The address was right, his GPS said he was in the right place, and looking closer there were black and gold balloons tied to the letterbox by the front door, just as planned. Adjusting the heavy duffel bag over his shoulder, he took a deep breath and headed toward the house. Upon approaching, he noticed a small wooden sign hanging on the front door.

"The Family Jules Jamily Maid Café"

Please Come in!

Well, this was definitely the right place. Bigfoot knocked at the door but received no reply. He opened the door expecting the house to be empty and was surprised to find about a dozen people inside. "Welcome Home!" Several people in uniforms cheered and bowed upon seeing him. A smiling maid, about 5'4" approached him. "Hi! Welcome to the Jamily Café." She beamed. Her name tag read 'Beau' with 'Beau7x' printed underneath. Bigfoot offered a handshake "Nice to meet you Beau. I'm Mike, er uh, Bigfoot." She took his hand into hers and gently but eagerly shook it. Her hands were much smaller and oddly warm "Oh, Bigfoot! It's a pleasure to meet you." She smiled. She seemed genuinely happy to be at the café and actually excited about meeting him. "Are you here as a guest or an employee?" "Oh, I'm here to work, definitely." He answered, returning his hand to his pocket. "Oh, excellent! Well you've come at a great time. We're just starting to get into the swing of things, so it should be fairly smooth to get you started. Hopefully." She smirked. "I'll take you to the rooms and you can dump your stuff and get settled in." Bigfoot followed Beau around the house as she showed him around, trying not to get in the way of anyone. There wasn't much to the house; the layout was fairly simple and easy to remember. The only rooms on the lower floor was the main dining room, kitchen, and storeroom in the back. Upstairs were two bathrooms and the bedrooms. Bigfoot would be sharing with two other men he was yet to meet. The property even had a pretty large back yard where a few tables were set up for diners, but Beau guessed not many people would sit out there. It was more for 'staff' to take a break or for guests to enjoy the view of the ocean. Beau finished the tour by returning to the storeroom where she gave Bigfoot a set of clothes set aside for him and a small booklet. "Here is your uniform, I hope everything fits. And this," she pointed to the booklet "It's like a little instruction book I guess. It has some generic guidelines and the schedule for activities and stuff. Give it a gloss over. Or don't, I'm not your boss." She shrugged. Bigfoot flipped through the booklet titled 'De Rulz', "Cool. So, should I just meet you in the dining room after I get changed?" "Oh, I don't expect you start straight away. You only just got here, and you're probably jet lagged." "Nah, I'm good." Bigfoot simply shrugged and by the evening Bigfoot had already gotten the routine of waiting tables and serving patrons down to a fine art. He was glad he was able to keep them entertained by being his usual goofball self and didn't have to try too hard to keep them happy Beau patted him on the shoulder as she walked past with a serving tray of tea, "Wow, look at you Big! Doing one heck of a job, especially since you only got here 5 hours ago. This is only my second day and my back is already killing me." She smiled, rolling her shoulders back. Bigfoot felt proud of himself. The job itself wasn’t hard and it was something he was truly invested in. He wanted the patrons to be happy and have a good time, and he considered them his friends - even though he'd never actually met most of them before. The cafe closed at 8pm and the guests and staff were invited to relax in the dining hall. A few people were setting up a tv and gaming consoles in a free corner by the fireplace, someone was strumming on an acoustic guitar somewhere, and a few tables were full of guests playing board games and cards together. "EVAN! RUDE!" Bigfoot jumped a little I surprise at the sudden shouting. "It's not rude if it's true!" A man called back He looked around to find the source of the yelling. A patron he recognized as "LadybugSheep" was yelling at someone who had their back to him. "No, you can tell the truth and still be rude." Ladybug pointed out, "I bet in another life you would've been a nice person." they added. Bigfoot watched Beau approach them and place a gentle hand on their shoulder, "Now, now children, if you can't play nice..." "Evan's being mean." "It's only mean if you let it get to you, bub." she squeezed their shoulder. She stood up, pushing her shoulders back and pushing her chest forward, wincing slightly. "Do any of you guys want anything?" She asked the table, "Coffee, dessert?" "Isn't the café closed?" Asked Ladybug "That doesn't mean the kitchen ceases to exist. I'm already getting a few things for the guys setting up the smash tournament so I might as well, while I'm at it." Bigfoot approached the table next to Beau. He could see the patrons were playing 'Cards against humanity'. A custom white card said "LBS doesn't want you to know _____", leading to a rather inappropriate response from Evan, whom he now recognized as ThunderScott. "Do you want a hand?" He offered. "Hm? Sure, if you want." She shrugged, "But you've already done plenty today. Aren't you tired?" "Not as much as I thought I'd be. Not yet anyway." Beau nodded and led him into the kitchen, throwing her notepad onto the central counter. Bigfoot took a look at the order and started pulling out beverages while Beau grabbed the desserts from the fridge. "So, I never asked, but, what made you want to come here anyway, Big?" "You mean to the café?" "Yeah," Beau called out, her head still buried in the fridge, "What makes you fly for 6 hours to basically be someone's slave with no promise of being paid?" Bigfoot shrugged as he placed the drinks on a serving tray, "I don't know. I thought it would be a super fun and crazy place to work, with a bunch of the Jamily 'cuz y'all are wonderful and maids are also wonderful." Beau finally pulled herself from out of the fridge with a stack of desserts lining her arms "Yeah, but why work here? Why not just be a patron?" "I guess I just love the idea of it. I don't like coffee, and I don't really go to cafes, but, this way, I get to make people happy, and everyone's so nice and friendly." "And?" Beau looked up at him from the cakes she was slicing "And...what? That not a good enough reason?" "No, I meant, are we meeting your expectations?" She clarified "Oh!" Bigfoot chuckled awkwardly, "Yeah, absolutely. I love meeting everyone, it's... it's honestly been so much fun today. I can't wait to see what happens tomorrow, and honestly, it's been awhile since I've felt like that." Beau nodded slowly and dropped her head appearing to be staring down at her own chest. "You okay?" Bigfoot asked shuffling from one foot to the other "It's just..." She sighed. "I really want this to last forever, you know? But I know it's going to fade. The excitement, the happiness, the willingness to do anything. Like any family soon the effort will be too much and we won't care as much anymore. These past two days are the happiest I've ever been in such a long time. I just..." Beau shrugged "I don't know, I'm staring at the end while we're still at the beginning but-" "You don't know that." Bigfoot interrupted. "Maybe people will like it here so much that we'll open up a permanent maid café." "Yeah but it won't be the same." She pointed out "Again, you don't know that. You can't possibly predict the future or see alternate universes." "But this is what always happens. Things fade, people change, stuff like this doesn't go on forever." "True, it doesn't go on forever, but that doesn't mean it will end badly. If this is what you thought would happen then why did you come all the way from Australia?" Beau paused and frowned in thought. "I guess...I don't really know." She looked up at him confused "I think, maybe I was hoping for something, but I'm not sure what. Confirmation... meaning. Inspiration for a direction in my pointless life, I don't know." "And you thought you'd get that working at a maid café?" he replied sarcastically "I wanted to do something I was terrified of doing, so I could say 'Fuck you I am strong enough to do what I really want'. To take risks that might make me happy. I mean, hearing everyone's stories and you know, watching Jules' journey of how you can do what makes you happy and still have food and pay bills, gives me hope, I guess. Meeting everyone here who are as nice as they are online gives me hope that maybe, just maybe, I can trust people and not everyone I meet is going to try and fuck me over like so many others." Bigfoot looked at her wide eyed, unsure of what to do with this unexpected outburst. " I just thought it would be cool to work with maids." he shrugged. Beau looked at him and started laughing. "Yeah, well I mean that's why I wanted to come here, 'cause it would be fun, but, that's why I forced myself to come. I would be kicking myself forever if I didn't." Bigfoot nodded, "Yeah same." "Any who," she laughed the awkwardness out of the air, "Have you met any of the Jamily before you got here?" "No. I was saw Thunderforge in concert but, I chickened out in meeting Jules, so." "Aw, no! Dude." She looked at him sympathetically, "Well, you may have a chance to redeem yourself tonight, and I will force you to introduce yourself." She stated with determination and smiled at him "What do you mean? Are they coming tonight?" "Well, he came by last night with a bunch of people and said they'd try to at least stop by most nights so.." She shrugged and pushed her shoulders back again, an eye twitching. "So, did you meet any of them?" Beau laughed "Yeah actually, Adrianna scared the shit out of me. A lot was going on and I was just sitting at the counter watching everyone and suddenly I feel someone touching my thigh." "What?" he laughed "Yeah I was totally checked out and I didn't notice her through the crowd but she started feeling my dress and scared the shit out of me." Bigfoot laughed, "Yeah that sounds like something she'd do." "Yeah, they're all super nice, just like, you know, what you see online really is what you get with most of them. Just really honest and genuine. And then the conversation became really inappropriate because of course it would." "Inappropriate like-?" "Like sexually inappropriate" Beau confirmed nodding, "Like every conversation we seem to have here." Shouting suddenly erupted from the dining hall causing both of them to look in its direction. Bigfoots skin tingled all over his body. Beau smiled "Looks like your chance at redemption has finally arrived."