Ylime's Closet https://blog.emilysindac.com/ Raw thoughts, unfiltered truths. A collection of honest reflections on life, people, and the beautiful mess of being human. No sugar-coating, no pretense—just real thoughts from someone who refuses to play nice when the world insists on being fake. en Tue, 16 Jul 2019 12:00:00 +0000 On Friendship https://blog.emilysindac.com/posts/on-friendship/ https://blog.emilysindac.com/posts/on-friendship/ Tue, 16 Jul 2019 12:00:00 +0000 To hell with the 'how to win friends' guides! All you have to do is be real to that person... To hell with the "how to win friends" guides! All you have to do is be real to that person and if she responded with her true self, you both win a friend without breaking a sweat. If you're trying hard to keep someone then the value of friendship is doomed from the start because eventually, it will be lost.

Friendship makes life lighter and more fun so if it felt like a heavy load to carry, then it's not friendship at all.

Real friendship doesn't require performance reviews or constant maintenance
It doesn't demand you to be someone else to keep it alive
It doesn't make you feel like you're walking on eggshells or auditioning for a role

True friends see your mess and stay anyway
They don't need you to be perfect; they need you to be real
They laugh at your terrible jokes and call you out on your bullshit with equal enthusiasm

If friendship feels like work, you're probably friends with the wrong people

]]> On Pride https://blog.emilysindac.com/posts/on-pride/ https://blog.emilysindac.com/posts/on-pride/ Fri, 12 Jul 2019 12:00:00 +0000 Pride is a double-edged sword that makes you full even when your stomach is growling... Pride is a double-edged sword
Makes you full even when stomach is growling
Stops you from going to places you originally love
Avoid people no matter how much you need them
Making your world smaller with every grudge you refuse to let go
But at the end of the day, you'll tap your shoulder and say "I'm proud of you and happy you're you"

Because pride is also the armor that keeps you standing when everything else says kneel
The voice that whispers "you're worth more" when the world tries to discount you
The invisible crown only you can feel but everyone can see
What makes you walk away instead of settling for scraps

So wear it, bear it, tear it when needed
Because sometimes pride is all that's left when dignity is being auctioned to the highest bidder
At least pride stays loyal—expensive as hell, but loyal

]]> They Called Me Rude https://blog.emilysindac.com/posts/they-called-me-rude/ https://blog.emilysindac.com/posts/they-called-me-rude/ Fri, 12 Jul 2019 12:00:00 +0000 They called me rude and heartless, but if they expect me to respect 'elders' whose lives are spent on actions that don't deserve respect... They called me rude and heartless
But if they expect me to:
Respect the 'elders' whose lives are spent on actions that don't deserve respect
Be nice to 'family members' who failed treating you as family and expect you to forget it all because "blood is thicker than water"
Obedient to those who have power and expect everyone to be their dog
Be friendly to those who smile at everyone's face and spit at their back
Sweet to those who are saints with people they need something from but treat the ones that seem useless to them like garbage
Polite to church-goers who judge and think everyone else are sinners while hiding their own dirt

Then fuck being nice

If that's the world's standard of kindness, then count me out because I believe that how you treat others should be the exact way they should treat you
No special passes for gray hair if the actions underneath are ugly
No fake smiles for backstabbers just because society says "be nice"
No bowing to authority that thinks power means everyone else should kiss their ass
No tolerance for users who kiss up and kick down depending on what you can do for them
No reverence for hypocrites who preach morality while practicing cruelty
No automatic forgiveness for DNA donors who think shared genes excuse shitty behavior

If choosing integrity over fake politeness makes me rude
If refusing to enable shitty behavior makes me heartless
Then stamp it on my forehead with permanent ink
Because it would be a pure honor to just be on the opposite side of their bullshit

At least when I'm an asshole, I'm an honest one

]]> I Need a Break from the Fakes https://blog.emilysindac.com/posts/i-need-a-break-from-the-fakes/ https://blog.emilysindac.com/posts/i-need-a-break-from-the-fakes/ Tue, 18 Jun 2019 12:00:00 +0000 Sometimes the most exhausting thing isn't the work itself, but the people you have to pretend to like while doing it... I need a break from the fakes

From people who smile at your face and broadcast what they don't like about you to the rest of the world
From those who are saints with people they need something from but treat the ones that seem useless to them like garbage
From the backstabbers who practice their Oscar speeches in mirrors before coming to work
From relatives who only remember your existence when they need something

I'm sick of their goody two shoes, two face act. They may be kind to the people they are fooling (or they may simply be playing good dog) but to me they are nothing but fake, boneless iguanas.

Give me honest assholes over dishonest angels any day
At least with assholes, you know where you stand
With fakes, you're constantly walking on quicksand disguised as solid ground

I need a break from pretending their plastic personalities are worth my genuine energy

]]> The Women of Saudi Arabia https://blog.emilysindac.com/posts/the-women-of-saudi-arabia/ https://blog.emilysindac.com/posts/the-women-of-saudi-arabia/ Fri, 26 Apr 2019 12:00:00 +0000 For centuries, Saudi Arabian women are known as the submissive, homebound, powerless shadow of the patriarchy. Yet beneath the abayas, behind the veils that the world fixates on, there beat hearts of steel... Every country has its own story, culture, sets of beliefs that marked their own unique identity. Saudi Arabia, with its vast deserts and ancient traditions, tells a story where women have historically been the silent verses—present but unheard.

For centuries, Saudi Arabian women are known as the submissive, homebound, powerless shadow of the patriarchy. Yet beneath the abayas, behind the veils that the world fixates on, there beat hearts of steel.

I've seen them navigate systems designed to contain them with a grace that borders on rebellion. Where they can't go forward, they go around. Where they can't speak loudly, they write. Where they can't lead overtly, they influence subtly.

These women—doctors, teachers, businesswomen behind closed doors—navigate a world that constantly tries to shrink them, yet they expand with every step. They don't have the freedom to drive (yet), but they steer conversations that change minds. They cover their faces but somehow make their voices heard.

Their resilience isn't loud or showy—it's in the quiet determination with which they pursue education, in the subtle ways they assert independence within the confines of cultural expectations, in how they pass down strength to their daughters disguised as bedtime stories.

The women of Saudi don't need pity; they need respect for the battles they fight that most will never see or understand.

]]> Writer's Block https://blog.emilysindac.com/posts/writers-block/ https://blog.emilysindac.com/posts/writers-block/ I was played by my own thoughts again...when I'm miles away from a pen and paper they run fast and kept on jumping around my head... I was played by my own thoughts again...when I'm miles away from a pen and paper they run fast and kept on jumping around my head but when my hands are ready, they just froze in that mid-air — between the tip of my fingers and my scalp.

They call it writer's block but for me it's the most powerful and frustrating part of being a writer. I just wish there is a machine that will instantly write whatever was on my mind whenever it's going berserk with ideas.

Those brilliant phrases that visit during showers, the perfect endings that appear while driving, the character revelations that emerge at 3 AM—all vanished when summoned intentionally.

This cerebral tease is both my torment and my gift. The thoughts that dance beyond my grasp remind me I'm still a creator even in silence. They push me to chase them harder, to set better traps, to become quicker at capturing their essence before they evaporate.

Perhaps the frustration is the point—the tension between what we can conceive and what we can capture is where the magic happens.

]]>