Unscripted Feelings

When Overthinking Fails

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It’s 5:54am UK time.

My peak overthinking hour.

This is usually when my brain decides to conduct investigations. Into people. Into situations. Into feelings that feel a little too good to be true. I replay conversations. I zoom into tone shifts. I analyse pauses like they’re plot twists waiting to happen.

This is when I protect myself.

And yet… I’ve got nothing.

I’ve tried to find something wrong. With the situation. With the person. With the feeling itself. A crack. A contradiction. A subtle red flag disguised as something beautiful. Something I can point to and say, “There. That’s why this won’t work.”

But every time I try to build a case, it falls apart.

I procrastinate. I scroll. I mentally draft exit strategies. I imagine future disappointments just to get ahead of them. I attempt to overthink my way into control.

And my mind — my very loyal, very dramatic mind — is tired.

Not defeated. Not naive. Just… unable to manufacture a problem that isn’t there.

Of course, there are always theoretical reasons something might not work. Timing. Imperfection. Human unpredictability. There are statistics, cautionary tales, endless “what ifs.” I could absolutely assemble a list titled Potential Future Disasters. I’ve done it before.

But deep down, I know when I’m reaching.

I know the difference between intuition and fear trying to stay employed. And this feels less like intuition and more like habit. Like my mind doesn’t quite know what to do when there’s nothing urgent to solve.

It’s unsettling when you’re used to emotional motion. When love, opportunity, or even simple happiness has always come with tension. I’m familiar with that version of myself — the one who questions, tests, pushes. The one who tries to end things first so they don’t end unexpectedly.

But this time, I can’t find the flaw.

And that’s strangely terrifying.

Because if there’s nothing wrong, then there’s nothing to fight. No villain in the story. No dramatic unraveling to justify stepping back.

Google can’t help me. Reddit can’t validate a suspicion that doesn’t exist. Even my usual overthinking triggers seem to clock out early. I try to pace the feeling toward some conclusion — to accelerate it into something definitive — but it refuses.

It’s calm.

Life is becoming still. And that’s what I always said I wanted.

But stillness feels unfamiliar when you’ve grown up bracing for impact. Peace can feel suspicious when chaos has been your baseline.

So here I am. 5:54am. Peak overthinking hour.

And instead of spiraling, I’m sitting in the quiet.

There’s nothing to dismantle.

Nothing to sabotage.

Nothing to preemptively destroy.

Maybe this phase isn’t something to interrogate.

Maybe it’s something to witness.

And maybe the bravest thing I can do is let something be beautiful without trying to prove why it shouldn’t be.

PS: My head feels what I felt when I was here (see pic)

Kemeri National Park, Latvia
WB Prompts

Being true

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What is the biggest challenge you will face in the next six months?

Being true to myself on the journey. Despite distractions, temptations and urge to not see the practicality in my personal relationship, it be challenging to navigate an important decision in my life. I hope the path gets easier and calmer though.

Unscripted Feelings

Becoming Water

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There are days when you realize you are water.

Not stone. Not fire. Not wind.

But water.

Flowing quietly through cracks no one noticed, finding passage where there seemed to be none. Making your way from home to city to countries, across worlds. Sometimes in gutters, sometimes in crystal glasses, sometimes pooled in muddy lands, sometimes resting against serene mountains.

Water does not resist its journey. It absorbs its surroundings, the environment, the treatment, the processing, and still moves toward its end. Serving purpose one step, one drop at a time.

Today, I feel like water.

Looking back, I see the shapes I’ve taken, the containers I’ve been poured into, the rocks I’ve curved around, the dams that held me still longer than I wished.

There were phases. Moments of sinking deep into silence. Moments of rising high, almost weightless. Times of crashing down, and times of stillness. The kind that looks calm on the surface while entire currents move underneath.

And then the heavy waves, the ones that drown you briefly only to teach you how to surface again.

No wonder water brings me calm.

Standing before a lake or sea feels like recognition, an unspoken familiarity. It is as if I am seeing myself reflected, the depth, the quiet chaos, the endless motion disguised as peace.

Still water holds a profound secret. Beneath its surface lies movement. Beneath the chaos of life lies calm. Beneath my own turbulence, there is something steady.

Rivers rushing with pressure, that relentless, roaring flow, feel like my emotions when they can no longer be contained. A release I cannot always put into words. A force that does not ask permission to move.

I am surprised I could not articulate this before. But perhaps this is what calm does. It gives language to what was once only sensation. It lets you sit long enough with yourself to recognize your own element.

When you truly begin to know who you are and what matters, you stop fighting your nature.

So yes, I think I am water.

Sometimes ferocious.

Sometimes still.

Mostly flowing, shaped by the landscapes I pass through, yet always, quietly, unmistakably myself.

Kennet River, Reading
WB Prompts

Hollowness

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What bores you?

The feeling of hollowness in conversations, at work, at events, in general life. When things don’t have purpose I feel bored.

If I am relaxing too much, but not because I want to relax and unwind but because there is nothing else meaningful to do, thats boredom for me.

WB Prompts

A girl with all odds and evens

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If there were a biography about you, what would the title be?

I am a girl with all odds and evens.

Sharp yet soft. Logical yet deeply emotional. Grounded, but unafraid of intensity. I don’t do anything halfway — not conversations, not connections, not care.

I value sincerity over convenience and depth over surface. When I show up, I show up fully. When I trust, I do so intentionally. That may mean I feel more — but it also means I live more honestly.

I am layered, sometimes contradictory, but always real. And I have learned to see that not as confusion — but as strength.

I am proud of my complexity. It is not something to shrink. It is something to stand in.

Tell a tale !

A Quiet Detour to Milfontes

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Sometimes (okay, most times) I don’t know how I feel or what I want. And in those moments, I do things like booking Milfontes—the small place tucked between Lagos and Lisbon. It just felt nice to go. So I went.

I was carrying Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine. Yes, the title resonated—deeply—and it felt good to return to reading while traveling through Portugal. I finished most of it on the bus to Milfontes. I reached in the evening, and of course, the sad part: the sunset was unfolding on the left side of the bus while I was seated on the right. My heart ached, naturally—it always does when I miss things like that. Still, once I got off, the sky put on enough drama to make up for it. (Check the pic.)

The Airbnb itself was quaint, and I met another traveler who looked visibly relieved at my arrival—she’d been staying there alone with her dog for four days. Company is always nice :) She cooked dinner and kindly offered me some. After food and easy conversation, I took a long shower and hugged the bed like it had been waiting for me.

The next morning, I decided to walk the Fisherman’s Trail. I started around 9, assuming I’d find a café somewhere along the way. Surprise—there was nothing. So there I was, walking for the next six hours on an empty stomach. The only savior was a daily milk bar I’d bought the day before in Lagos. The walk—from town through farms and out onto the cliffs—was stunning. Hardly anyone around, except for a generous number of cats keeping watch.

After a while, I saw a few people here and there, moving in both directions along the trail—not crowded, just enough to remind me the world still existed. It felt surreal. I could see myself, hear myself—my thoughts moving alongside the ocean, the sun, and the vast stretch of sand. Luxury, isn’t it?

Around 2 p.m., I decided to head back and somehow chose the most odd route possible. I crossed arid sand dunes, wandered into fields of nothingness, no one in sight in any direction—just me, singing to myself, enjoying every little thing along the way. Yes, including the trees. I felt like I was home. Like this was exactly where I was meant to be.

At some point, I struggled to find my way back—everything looked the same, all grass alike, all trees indistinguishable. Eventually, instinct kicked in, and somehow I crossed over near someone’s house (private property)… and that’s that.

I made it through a crooked road and finally back into town, to the BnB. It had been a perfect day—full of nature, myself, and a deep sense of serenity. Just before reaching the BnB, I spotted a café. I was relieved, and I’m fairly sure the server was too. I must have looked as exhausted as I felt. A great coffee, toast, and eggs later, it was time to retreat to bed.

And honestly, I couldn’t have asked for more.

Milfontes, Portugal
Fisherman Trail, Milfontes
Unscripted Feelings

Still, and Full

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Yesterday, while walking back home, something unfamiliar found me. I stopped on a quiet stretch of pavement and let the feeling settle. It was uninhibited, gentle, and deeply calming. Before I knew it, I was smiling — surprised by how peaceful it felt to simply stand there.

Have you ever felt something so magical that you want to name it, hold it close, and still allow it to move freely through you? That kind of feeling. For the first time in a long while, I felt light — entirely light. No tremors, no racing thoughts, no uneasy goosebumps. Just stillness. A soft fullness. A calm that didn’t ask for anything.

The presence of someone new in my life has quietly revealed how simple and profound life truly is. How happiness doesn’t require grand gestures or ornamentation. I’ve always loved the small, grounded moments, but this time was different. I didn’t rush past the feeling. I stayed. I listened. And in that stillness, I recognised something honest — a gentle truth about who I am, what I want, how I wish to live, and with whom.

If I were to describe it the way I understand the world, it would be like waves meeting the shore. The shore stands steady calm, patient, unwavering, allowing the waves to arrive exactly as they are. Sometimes soft, sometimes fierce. Sometimes carrying fragments from the depths, sometimes arriving empty-handed. The waves do not need to explain themselves, and the shore does not resist them. They belong to each other, endlessly, one in motion, the other in quiet constancy.

And that is exactly how I felt.

Kemeri National Park, Latvia

Tell a tale !

Strangers at a Table – Home for a Night

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Christmas Eve 2025 was special in the most unexpected way.

Picture this: two Germans, one Austrian, an Indian, and an American—complete strangers—sitting around a dining table in a hostel in Lagos. Plates half-full, stories overflowing, laughter bouncing off the walls. By the end of the night, we were no longer strangers, just humans sharing pieces of our lives with open hearts.

The Austrian man was elderly and proudly analog. No digital gadgets, no constant scrolling—just a man carefully planning his travels the old-school way. He worked at a ski resort in Austria, and there was something deeply grounding about how he moved through the world. Watching him made me wish I’d lived in that era… or at least inspired me to seriously reduce my digital footprint.

One German girl was three months into backpacking across Southern Europe—curious, fearless, and full of stories. The American girl was making the most of her one-month summer break, traveling across Europe with a kind of joyful urgency. She was from Minneapolis—yes, the irony! Of all places. After working with AMPF, I never expected to meet someone from there at a hostel table in Lagos. She was genuinely surprised I even knew the place.

Another German guy was traveling too—cooking, chatting, and casually smoking weed (which, let’s be honest, felt very on brand 🥲).

And then there was me. Listening. Laughing. Sharing.

Our conversations drifted effortlessly—from how each of us travels, to the strange familiarity of grocery stores around the world, to why analog still feels incredibly cool in an overwhelmingly digital age. We talked about how America is changing, how there’s still hope (Mamdani), and how we imagine watching the sunrise—like an egg yolk slowly spilling out of a sky-blue pan over the ocean.

Lagos, Portugal

Unscripted Feelings

Changing lens.

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The last few weeks have been experiential. Not something exotic in worldly sense but more on spiritual or soul level. I have gotten to know myself better, I understand my feelings and behaviour more and I am ready to take the lead to soften myself, accept myself and become better more cautiously. Statements starting with why are being replaced by, might be because of.

I have always been understanding, caring, thoughtful, leading, giving etc etc but now I am more interested in intentions than attention. I know what I bring to a relationship, friendship and nothing half hearted. I now have stopped compromising. I am learning to read the boundaries better or set them up if need be without fear of abandonment or fear of loss. Yes, it will take time putting myself first as thats not been the norm but I am getting there slowly and steadily.

There are times I am etched to step further, its uncomfortable at times too because I am used to being certain way and change is hard especially on this level. But I am enjoying this journey of being at same pace at the other person is. Emotional attachment, investment has costed me in past and I don’t want to be the one carrying a relationship of any-kind alone anymore. It’s a partnership build on mutual efforts and showing up consistently and standing the ground despite hardships.

I didn’t write for a while because I stepped onto this journey but this space allows me to share with Universe with no expectations and it helps ❤️

Onwards and upwards.

WB Prompts

Happiness

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Write about your first name: its meaning, significance, etymology, etc.

My name reflects and means happiness. I guess in life all of us are after happiness in some form. Irony, I am still learning what happiness looks or feels like for me. Its a nice experience knowing yourself on that level :)