I kept asking -WHY DID I STOP?

               With Taylor swift (mother) music taking hostage of my thumping brain, with the mid night rain making the chaos grow full together, I fall back to why did I stop? 

Why did I stop living when situations backfired—and the rest of the days just wouldn’t cooperate? Why did I stop living when he didn't buckle up his ass to show up? why did I stop living when work turned to be manual dysfunction! Why did I stop living when homies were busy shallowing up their identities with mere wine and bread of the day. As these thoughts clouded my thumping nerves, the smoke was trying to get the work done antagonizing my anxiety and adrenaline rush, i sensed the paleness of my skin slowing turning into ashen. With my brewed coffee in one hand, tasted at set intervals, “I took a step back and watched my body scramble to put me in ‘safe mode’—like, relax, it’s gone, you’re safe now bc… thanks for the delayed update!!!

  I sat down, took a few breaths, and let the thoughts spiral anyway. How did I let it all in? How did I let it multiply my vulnerability, push aside my better judgment, and make space for all the ugliness letting all the gross pathology of the world grow upon? And for what? Was I really looking for safety—or just chasing the shallow comfort of being chosen by the strongest person in the room, mistaking that for power? Awareness isn’t the problem. Seeing your own patterns clearly isn’t a flaw. The real damage comes after - when the realization curdles into self-sabotage, and I swing the other way, overcompensating, trying to fix everything just to outrun the feeling of having betrayed myself.

Life comes with its usual hang-ups, and that night I made a quiet deal with my gut: the show must go on. Regardless of the clowns, the actors, the side characters, the hustlers—and yes, even the main character which, inconveniently, is me.

So, I drew a line. Not a dramatic, life-altering one—just enough to keep the chaos contained without pretending I’ve suddenly become deep and evolved. Because right now, the world itself seems busy collapsing in their own pit of schooled societal thoughts and where vulnerability arrives pre-packaged with 101 healing guidelines, probably edited and directed by ChatGPT itself. Helpful. Overwhelming. Slightly ironic.

So instead of fixing everything, I chose something simpler: a head-on collision with life. No filters, no over-curation—just making space for what I’ll call happiness, or at least my version of it—Factor X. Factor X isn’t profound. It’s inconsistent, slightly chaotic, and highly specific. It’s talking to Dikshu Didi, Jaishree, Anish Sir, Pruthvi Sir, Ishh. It’s journaling, playing, writing, hustling, waking up late, drinking coffee like it solves things, dressing well, acting hot for no real reason, working, crashing, wanting more, dancing through minor  kpop songs, cigarette after sex album, and occasionally re-entering my flirty era like it’s a seasonal trend.

None of it fixes life. That’s not the point.

This is life—at least mine. Messy, performative, a little shallow, a little sincere. And somewhere in all of it, this X factor is the most present I ever feel--(in a mind that’s permanently overbooked and a conscience that refuses to clock out).

P.S. Here are few song recommendations if you got hindged along with my blog ,just an Xfactor for you :)

1)Like Jennie Coachella Version -btw its a place !

2)Escapism 

3) Hola amigo The rap part!

4) Cigarette after sex -entire album.

5) The fate of ophalia 

7) Midnight rain