Sporadically

 I woke up with the idea of reminiscing about my past and reading my prior journals, yet again. Unsurprisingly, I managed to remember what app I used for my old entries. Right before I grew fond of penning my thoughts on actual paper. This was around 2015 or so. 9th grade. A fickle but delicate time for the budding junior. 

Ailysh of 2015 was fresh with battle scars, from the people around her, and her greatest enemy, herself. 9th grade wasn't that bad - in comparison to 7th and 8th. I swear, are all teenagers under some high drug that I'm unaware of? They're all so awkward, weird, and infinitely sad. Then I remember, it was the most awaited stage of life, puberty. I'd be damned if I said that I wasn't a part of this phenomenon. No matter how much I wanted to erase that part of my life (I still think that my life continues to be irrelevant. Thus, guaranteed a total erasure). Anyways. from what I can gather from my old self. I was happy - albeit down in the dumps due to her constant need for validation from other people. Like, the popular peeps you read or watch from the movies are immature characters. 

On the topic of journal entries, I'm surprised that I was able to go through our dissection class with Sir Dhel before. After the fiasco with the dead frog in 7th grade, I thought that I would be more affected by it. The more I try to type my feelings, or somehow, reflect on myself, I feel like my brain shuts down and tries to brush it under the rug. This is why 2017-2019 Ailysh was a delight to get to know. She was unlike all other versions. She was transparent with herself, and with other people. She was the happiest she's ever been in her entire life. Unknown to her, her 2022 self starts to question whether she's still that same person. It sure doesn't feel like it anymore.