Digital Journal - Blog Posts

✧･ﾟ✧ Hello there! ✧･ﾟ✧

𓆩♡𓆪 welcome to my little corner of studyblr 𓆩♡𓆪

🥀Name: Orphic

🥀Age: 15

🥀Personality: INTP

🥀Location: India

🥀Student: 10th grade

🥀Main goal: Academic weapon

About Me:

🥀Lover of late-night study sessions, brief infatuations, life-long learning

🥀Obsessed with Shakespeare, The Secret History, existentialism, chess, music, literature, yearning

🥀Favourite Quote: "I am nothing in my soul if not obsessive."

🥀Aspiring to be the best.

Blog Content:

Dark Academia aesthetic

Moodboards

Relatable posts

Study-related posts

Books

Digital journal

04/11/24

I don’t think I’ll ever be someone's first choice. I wish I could say ‘Oh, they love me’ or ‘Oh, they think I hold up the sun’. But I don’t think I’ll ever have that. I’m nice. But not nice enough to think of that way. I light up a room. But I don’t light up their life. I’m beautiful. But not beautiful enough to be their first. It kind of makes me sick. It leaves a pit in my stomach. The fact that I won’t have this romance I’m looking for. That I am bound to love more than they will ever love me. I think that reflects in my taste. I go after people that won’t ever love me for who I truly am. I don’t think I want to be loved for who I truly am. That’s terrifying. For someone to know me that deeply. To know the ins and outs of my skin. My perfect half. Searching. Falling. Failing. It’s everywhere. It’s in my favorite movie. The Half of It. It doesn’t have a good ending, or at least a ‘happy’ one depending on what you consider happy. It’s bittersweet. Just like how love is. Everyone moves behind, moves on. I’m stuck back, tripping over myself as I try to crawl forward and keep up. My fingers digging into the dirt, soil gathering underneath, my tears leaving a trail of lilies of the valley behind me. They’re poisonous. Did you know that? They kill if ingested. They mean love, yes. But they also mean sadness. In the 1800s, they represented ‘return to happiness’. I don’t know if I truly have that. Occasionally, yes. I feel it, I feel loved, I feel happy. But other times I feel sad. I feel lost. I feel like I’m pushing and chasing and tripping. Occasionally they stop, waiting for me to catch up. I scramble after them. Only for them to leave me behind anyways. Am I doomed to be too much to love forever? Is this what the gods wanted? Is this my punishment? Am I selfish to think of that? That I am doomed to wander alone forever? Doomed to watch others find their own? Gods, I hope not. Even if I have to pray. If I have to give up my dignity for my second half. I will do it, because as long as I find them, as long as I am with them. I am whole. We are too strong for the deities. Maybe that’s why they separated us.

“Love is messy and horrible and selfish and bold. It's not finding your perfect half. It's the trying and the reaching and failing. For the chance at a great one.”

- THE HALF OF IT, ALICE WU

04/04/24

I love my friends. I look at them and I just see so much beauty in them. They’re my sisters. They’re who know me best, but, they are also who know me the worst. They are not my carbon copy, in fact, they’re the opposite. They’re quiet, unless they’re together, they’re comfortable with the familiar. Most of all, they think they’re ugly. I think they’re beautiful. I like to run my fingers through their hair, and simply stare at them. It hurts, when I take photos of them, them having me take the photos over and over again. “Ewww, I look ugly in that. Redo. Redo.” or when one always covers their face in every photo, when in fact, they look best candid. Where I have to scour my phone for one photo. One where her face is shown. It hurts to hear them talk about themselves like that. But, I do the same. So why is it any different? Why do I get upset when they talk about themselves so negatively? Then I’ll turn around and inspect myself in the mirror, taking in the awkward shape of my nose, my every flaw, every pimple. I think they need to treat themselves better. Just like how I need to treat myself better. I’m imperfect. I know that much. I’m not this ‘fox beauty’, ‘deer beauty’, or anything like that. That bullshit. It’s all bullshit. Others say I look like a horse, call me a rat. When did the way others see me affect the way I see myself? If I change the way I see myself, will that change the way my friends see themselves? Does the outlook, and thought of myself, affect others?

sleepover, april 11-13

I stayed over at my cousins house for 3 days last weekend. it was so fun. My Beatles ita bag got so many compliments. I love meeting other nerds when I'm out. My cousin also made her own my melody ita bag

the mall, march 31st

I went to the mall with a friend I haven't seen since last year. I bought my first anime figure!

march 25th, tuesday

Dear, Reader,

Today was my autism assessment. That went well, but I'll have to wait for the results.

I had to wake up early so I could eat before my fast since it's Ramadan, but I was woken up at 7:30, when the sun rises at 7:10, but it's very important for me to take my medication, so I decided not to fast today. I'm just glad I have a family that supports me and my beliefs, even if they're not Muslim. My grandma said it was cute that I was talking about Ramadan while wearing a rosary.

Yesterday was my 17th birthday, so I got a whole lot of money and gifts(I'm so gonna spend it on thrifting!!). I started opening up about my interests recently, so my family finally knew what to get me. I think I'm no longer depressed, not as much as I once was anyway.

Tomorrow I get my treaty card(Indian status). I also styled my hair for the first time today since i got a hair straightener.

~Maks

I'm a woke stereotype...

8/5/25

okay fuck it we're starting this again

today i had a verbal shutdown for the first time IN PUBLIC and it was really awkward navigating it

i bought a chiikawa blind box, havent opened it yet tho

had this on repeat for an hour today

27/12/24 ☆

i came home at 8pm today, the world is so loud and i like keeping quiet. i want to curl up an become a glowing orb

a new friend is already draining me i feel like i have to mask

i met 2 close friends today over hot chocolate and i love them both + physics assignment set :[

About journaling and more.

the ups, the downs, and the in betweens.

I've been journaling pretty regularly for the past 8 years (with little breaks in between). Ever since I started I pretty much decided my journals would all be "anything goes", meaning there would be no strict guidelines on formatting or content. I also call it creative journaling for that reason, as it encompasses far more than just regular journal entries. As such, the contents of my journals are colorful accumulations of diary entries, creative writing such as poems, essay-like writing, collages, drawings, doodles, wild scribbles, etc.

As with any hobby or habit, my relationship to journaling has changed a lot in the past few years. I've experienced some journaling fatigue, sometimes also accompanied by guilt that I was not keeping up with my habit. As we all know life sometimes gets in the way, and even though it often helped me to write out my thoughts, if I was going through prolonged stress, it sometimes felt like journaling about it made me feel worse. I rarely had energy to express myself creatively and every written entry would just be me venting the same feelings over and over, creating a strange cycle that seemed to amplify my misery instead of alleviate it.

My current journal has roughly 16 pages left. I started it in January 2023, feeling a bit fatigued from the prior year where journaling first started feeling quite weary to me, possibly due to a lot of stressful big life transitions happening. I decided I would focus more on the visual/creative aspect and only write when I truly felt like it. Then more stressful stuff happened, and I lost my passion for journaling almost entirely.

It was then that I noticed that when I had the urge to put my thoughts somewhere but felt fatigued, writing with pen and paper made me feel limited, like my hands couldn't keep up with my thoughts. When I needed an immediate outlet to express my thoughts, just opening a word document and going at it would make me feel more satisfied than grabbing my journal and writing them down by hand.

I was going to write all of this down in my journal too, but I decided to put it here instead, just because I felt like it. I've been wanting to get into blogging forever and would like to eventually have a more personal blog but tumblr is close enough for now, as it is my old homebase in a way.

Like many people on here, my teenage years were defined by tumblr. I spent over ten years on this platform (on a diff. account from 2009-2017) mostly just soaking in content and not really expressing myself. Admittedly I wasted a lot of time on here instead of having real life experiences but somehow it still felt like a less brain-rotting way of consuming content than whatever we have going on these days on the big three.

That's why I ultimately decided to come back here, at least for a while.

you know better than anyone that everything is temporary. forever is just a hopeful plea, the base of our religion. but what to do with that knowledge? and how heavy it lays on my heart which still carries that child-like hope when it runs and skips in moments like these.

you have to let yourself feel the good things, even if they often feel too light, to implausible to be true.

even if you know they might be gone sooner than you think.

that's the hardest part, you still have to let yourself feel the good things.