Curated Diaries #1: Chasing satisfaction

Melted brains, dark shares, & games on diving and death

Welcome to Curated Diaries, a bi-weekly series collecting thoughts and photos from a life being built to be well-lived.

Unlike a spontaneous online diary, I intentionally curate what words flow through me during the two weeks we’re apart that I’m excited to share with you. I’m also working on sharing slices of life through a visual medium I’m not too good at: photography. But if I want to get better, I need to just start.

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Mini naan pizzas with basil, ricotta, and homemade hot honey FTW.

I’ve been chasing “satisfaction” lately, and I’m praying that it ends well.

I realized I’m understimulated. I spend some days on the hunt for anything that’ll make me feel productive, tantalized, and/or fulfilled in a way where I end the day feeling like I’ve accomplished something.

Because right now? Every day feels like those “give yourself grace” days where you take it easy because you’ve pushed yourself too hard, felt overwhelmed all day, or burnt out… But I feel none of those things, either.

Essentially, my life’s lost all structure and urgency. If I have an appointment or am using someone else’s time in any way, I will do whatever it takes to be there and be on time. But I don’t do the same for myself, and I think it’s even affecting my sleep.

Though I end the day sleepy, I’m not necessarily tired.

I’ve found myself waking up at 3-something in the morning, then 5-something, then 7, but I never get out of bed that early because I don’t necessarily have anything to do that warrants the need for more hours in the day.

So, I’m desperately moving onto plan B: job hunting. For my first job since college, which was a decade ago.

During my warbly and desperate search for enrichment the past week and a half, I did rediscover my Skillcrush tech classes. So I dunno, maybe I’ll go back into the tech field despite the seemingly massive layoffs I briefly heard news and stories about over the past two years.

The way I felt scanning through those mock client exercises was the satisfied feeling I’ve been looking for I think. Now, I just have to find the money to go with it…

Satisfaction is a signature feeling for Generators in Human Design, so it makes sense how I felt… but I’ll have to dive deeper into my HD thoughts some other day.

Living lately has looked like:

PHOTO 1: Going out with for Mongolian BBQ and sushi with my grandma and a family friend after shoe shopping.

PHOTO 2: A gratitude list of things I’ve been overflowing with love for recently (shared later).

PHOTO 3: My literal sacral menu I make of possible meal and snack ideas I’ll browse through when I’m hungry but can’t think of what to eat.

PHOTO 4: Starting volume 3 of One Piece after holding off to finish a previous agonizing separate read.

PHOTO 5: Falling in love with ricotta (ricotta with salt, pepper, and olive oil on sourdough and topped with chopped walnuts and honey).

PHOTO 6: Playing with makeup, hoping it sparks more curiosity in caring for myself and expressing myself through my image.

1. An excellent (and free!) resource for at-home workouts that is calm yet effective.

2. If you’re a line 2 in Human Design and/or a creative, this short read is a must! (affiliate)

3. This game is not only addictively whimsical, it gently and sweetly exposes you to grief.

4. And this game is a fun and funny sea hunting and restaurant game with a story to tell!

5. An intimate look into hospice volunteering (that happened to be in my home city).

Some journal entries while I’ve been away… Most a bit darker than I intended.

January 5th, 2023 - 10: 55am

Timelines *must* exist; we jump through them all the time.

While I sat here trudging through the “Tomorrow and Tomorrow” book, I thought about the picture I have saved on my phone of mom and dad standing side-by-side in the kitchen, their backs to me. How I took it because it felt sentimental.

I rarely saw them both *doing* activities side-by-side. It may have been decades since I saw that sight.

Someday I’ll paint that photo I took.

With the Kindle still in my hand, I mentally zoomed in on mom in that picture. I remembered her green and white checkered robe, then I remembered her last two identifiable yawns after she was sedated in the ICU. The last thing that told me that she for sure was still in there.

I flashback a little deeper into that moment, and again for the dozenth time I think, “wow, mom really is dead!”

To shake myself from going to deep, I think about timelines next.

I erase the sorrow of losing her with the reality that sorrow wouldn’t even exist if I never had gotten space from her.

How in order to truly appreciate her and feel compassion for her, I needed to be away from her. And at the time when she was still alive but toward her end, I thought the only way that could happen is if one of us died.

And I was VERY sure one of us (or both!) would soon make our exit!

Now, I’m in a timeline where I experience peace. I experience my life and making choices for it. I experience growth more than I could before. My mindset is healing. I can breathe in so many regards.

The timeline before this didn’t allow any of that.

This timeline is different for more than me, and I see it. I see how it’s changed us.

I see how more and more different our futures will be from now on.

I focus on the change, and on building the capacity to hold it all.

I’ve seen twice now that there’s a subtle difference between how people look when they sleep, and when they die naturally…

The cheek caves in. Like it’s sucking on a thick milkshake, but the mouth stays agape in an unhinged (in its true definition, not the social media slang one) way that can’t be mimicked by the living.

But that’s not my timeline anymore. There wasn’t much good in that timeline anyway. Not in the last couple of decades at least.

That’s what helps me from falling too deep into replayed memories I don’t want to relive anymore.

Most times it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

Sometimes mom pushes through and makes me spiral deep in remembrance and I allow it, because I feel she has that right.

11:16am

I can’t wait to see my therapist again; I want to talk to her about despair.

Sometimes it visits me like an intrusive visitor, and I allow it in because it has some curious things to say.

Just experiencing how seemingly easy it’s been for people to move on with their lives after losing two family members… I wonder, what IS the point?

The things you love don’t matter cause they were YOUR things you loved. You’re dead now.

If you don’t make that much of a bonding impact anyone’s lives, then what was the point?

What did you leave behind? What kinda life did you live? Do you have any regrets? Why?

What did you live for?

WHY?

When you’re dead, what even matters?

Your wishes, your possessions… in an instant it’s no longer yours. Your power, your decision, your will? Gone.

ANYTHING that isn’t legally binding can be done to you or your things. People can betray you after death. People can betray those you love after death. You can’t protect anyone, and especially yourself.

And that’ll be the end result for everyone eventually.

So… what are we here for?

My main goal is to enjoy life; why else would I stay here?

I was talking to dad briefly about getting a mysterious “general” job under the company he works for, and I’m not 100% on board with a job I have no clue what it’ll be like, how it’ll be structured, or what I’ll be doing.

“But that’s life”, right?

It doesn’t have to be.

Because I have absolutely nothing built up for retirement, he would like me to start now/soon.

But I’m like… if I hate the job, what’s the point of working somewhere to build up enough money to not have to work there anymore so I can FINALLY sit back and enjoy my life?

What if I don’t live long enough to “sit back and enjoy” my life?

With all of this in mind, I’ve been thinking about my future.

Despite its morbid roots, it’s nice to get down to the feral basics of WHY YOU WANT TO LIVE.

At the moment of writing this, I don’t know if I necessarily *want* to live.

So I need to ask myself two questions, 

“What do I want to experience before I die?”

“What would make my life feel purposeful, meaningful, fulfilling, and satisfying?”

THAT’S the high I wanna chase. Kinda like when I’d get despairy in the past and want to leave earth, I’d ask myself, “okay so since I don’t wanna be here anymore, what am I now ready to say, ‘f*ck it!’ to and try since I don’t care what happens to me anyway’?” Inhibitions are GONE when I’m in that state.

It’s hard to focus on that when I can find more cons for “continuing on” than pros, but I’m willing to spend 2024 actively finding ways to change that ratio significantly.

January 7, 2023 - 8:43pm

It sometimes feels naïve to have so much hope for the future. Like the young adults at graduation listening to a commencement speech?

But who decided that that had to be naïve? I know I’ve heard it somewhere before, that those people just haven’t had their hopes and dreams shattered a thousand times yet.

But I felt hopeful because I went down a rabbit hole looking for an old coding mentor who was in a program that offered abroad tech work.

She’s been a nomad for half a decades and settled down in Mexico City.

What if my life became one where I could get a one-way ticket to a different country?

What kind of work will I be doing in the future? How will I sustain myself?

What’s going to happen to me?

I bet this is something new grads ask themselves, especially if they weren’t going to grad school.

For now? I’ll continue focusing on finding ways and things to create structure around. Make me life feel more purposeful, hopefully.

January 8, 2024 - 1:58pm

What’s the point if no one loves you enough?

I keep thinking how everyone around me continues to move on with their life despite death.

And it makes me think of myself… sure, people will be sad and probably cry.

But they’ll be over it in no time.

I think about people like Betty White and her husband. How she never remarried after him.

Or people who felt they couldn’t go on after losing a loved one. How narcissistic is it if I admit that I wish people loved me so much that they struggled to move on without me?

If I don’t have that, or aren’t creating a life I enjoy, then what’s the point of life?

Seeing people move forward is a part of the process, I understand. Nothing stops for no one—not bills, life, obligations, responsibilities…

But just knowing you can be easily replaced, or can be compromised and just become an “and” in someone’s life once yours no longer exists, is a little disappointing.

I’m trying to turn this spiral around. Trying to make sense of at least my existence and what I’m living for if all it’ll end up in is a death anyway.

So I’m currently chasing the satisfying feeling of a purposefully-spent day.

I’m chasing what I can curate to create that feeling.

Maybe that’s what life is about: chasing feelings we want to experience over and over in ways that are enriching, not detrimental so we shorten our timelines available to experience it.

I thought writing this would help, but despair still looms over me like a cool shadow. But it is a start in a healthier direction.

I know what I’m looking for, now I’ve just got to find it.

January 9, 2024 - 11:10pm

Can the male gaze be seen as something beneficial? Cause I think I can.

I handsome put-together Costco mechanic genuinely greeted me with a few phrases today and I immediately thought afterward, “Huh… I wonder if I should try physically caring for myself more…”

It wasn’t really in embarrassment, but more so curiosity.

It was like, “Oh! People can see me. People will talk to me more if I’m decent looking. I wonder if we can push the envelope if I carried myself in a way that shows I give a damn about myself?”

It reminds me of the time some of my family came to see my room for the first time. It was only then that I could see how junky my snack basket looked, or how messy the headphones and wires and books under my desk must look to new eyes.

You just kinda go on autopilot, ya know? Start seeing everything as some big neutral mush.

Like the cookie sheet you always use. YOU know it’s okay, but new eyes will think those burnt in stains means it’s dirty.

But even before the handsome mechanic said hi to me, I’ve been trying to figure out how to WANT to present myself better for myself.

I admire some people who actually try to look presentable; I assume they do it cause they like it.

I wanna do it. I wanna like it.

I used to. Yeeeeeeeears ago.

So much has happened to that gal.

9:43pm

I love my family. I love our health. I love the unknown & the present. I love opportunities. I love handsome men giving me a genuine hello. I love help. I love guidance. I love money. I love being blessed. I love conversation. I love play. I love finding 53 cents in my pocket & my lost earmuffs. I love being seen. I love vulnerability. I love peace. I love kindness. I love growing pains. I love self-discovery. I love expressive outlets. I love feeling satisfied. I love knowing there’s always another way. I love balance. I love my room. I love errand days & short interactions. I love cilantro, jalapeno, & curry in my Magnoilan fried rice. I love having anything to look forward to. I love love. I love committing myself to things. I love Substack. I love my abundance. I love my wealthy life. I love how full my heart feels. I love that my mom isn’t missing out on much, because this timeline can’t exist in one where she’s alive. I love her freedom. I love our freedom. I love not believing in anything but God right now. I love the journey. I love this list. I love this life.

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Thanks so much for reading and for sticking around while I figure out the possible layout of this possible new series/installment here on Living Lately.

I appreciate you, and any feedback you have!

Sorry these entries were almost all dark and depressing as well. :p

Until next time.

Warmly,
Cierra M