Hot Grill ep3. C₁₀H₁₄N₂ -- 3.0.

Check My Final Week Struggles:

Check My Cali Stories:

Main Plot Goes Here:

Finished this piece a while ago, but took me a moment to post it here.

Never Felt Like This Before

The first 2 months of junior year were desperate but still manageable. Pauri said I “finished my season strong.” I was so motivated. I kept thinking that I only have 2 years left. Better make them count.

Then I broke up with that guy (recap) after some ridiculous arguments (Let’s just call it a breakup, although we were never really together). It was the same day as my COSI 21A Data Structure midterm. I was lying face down on my bed, sobbing. I knew this was coming. Never felt this helpless before. The world was spinning again until the end of my midterm. I walked out in disgrace.

Mandy welcomed me with a dazzling smile and a warm invitation to Mulan, the Taiwanese restaurant near campus, which I had to decline. I tried putting on my most decent face. The minute we said goodbye, I silently burst into tears.

Got too tired of crying, I went into Schwartz 112, the classroom of COSI 10A, where we officially started talking like two decent students, although we literally just played rage cage last weekend, and I chugged the bitch cup right beside him.

I leaned back, put on my headphones, and started banging Chappell’s “Good Luck, Babe!” so many times because I could really use some good luck. Another song I put on repeat was “APT.” by Mars and Rosé. No reason. I just love the melodies.

Cheerful songs, beautiful voices, yet I still detected some sorrow inside them. Detected or reflected? I played them on phone on speakers and on headphones like national anthems.

And the clock started rewinding. The empty lecture hall was suddenly full of people and a shy Delfino. It took me back to 1 year ago when I was putting my number in his phone, and he texted me the most random things. I laughed like a little girl. In Ridgewood B 304, I was playing "Can't Stop Falling In Love" on my guitar, and he was gazing at me as if he meant it.

As if he meant it.

Talking about it now really makes me nostalgic for the early college years when I was still living with the enthusiasm of a high schooler, meeting new people in raw dorms and frat parties. I still like those parties because seeing my friends or even distant acquaintances tripping like drunk mfs amuses me too much. But somehow the only drunk mf was me.

Joker🤡!

On Again

Dunno how it turned into an ex story but whatevs! I need to write it down. My blog my rules. (:P)

I went back from Schwartz to Ziv 128. The first thing I did — without a doubt — breathe in and out, on repeat. Again, and again, and again. I was so dizzy. So dizzy. Because I inhaled too much nicotine at once. This Geek Bar brand even has a display screen that displays animations of zodiac signs… Crazy. I was face down on my bed again, immobilized by the sudden nic rush.

I hope it could ease the pain. It did temporarily because it wiped out everything at once.

Of course I got high too.

Of course it was on repeat again, again, and again. For a long long while.

I Wanna Puke

The rest was expected. Finished the semester with a solid 3.6, the lowest GPA I have ever gotten. I was so bitter. I could have done better. I could have spent more effort in 21A and 29B, but it's whatever.

Fast forward to the Spring semester. Nobody told me Junior Spring would slap me this hard.

I was holding off on vaping when I was in China for winter break, but now I was like an unleashed horse.

It was a mixed 4 months. I was studying a lot, training a lot, DJing a lot… But it was not enough. Nothing was enough when I had this adult pacifier. When I was upset, take a puff. When I was thrilled, take a puff. When I was drunk, take a puff. When I was high, take a puff…

Whenever… just take a puff.

Whenever WTEN needs to travel, I would become scared of those nic-free periods. I don’t know if I would become cranky. I still didn’t identify myself as an addict. Looking back, I really was.

You fucked up bro.

I knew I fucked up. My concentration period was like a 3-year-old. I cramped in a match for the first time in my life. I also had something like a panic attack in my class for the first time ever. I blamed it solely on my school life, but who the fuck was I fooling? Nothing was working. NOTHING. Drinking stopped working. Getting high stopped working. Sleeping stopped working. Even vaping itself stopped working. When my friends and I took the same dose of Zyn, they would get dizzy and nauseous while I only enjoyed a light buzz. Everytime I crawled back to my room just to suck on some nic juice and spilled out fruit-flavored mist, I loathe myself.

I thought vaping would make me independent, as in I don’t need to rely on a person for safety, because substance was such a submissive consolation. Sure it gave me euphoric moments of inspo & did pull me away from people… BY FORCING A FIXATION. By jailing me with nicotine.

Now it was just me and nic, and nothing else, not even emotions and the most basic motivations for life. I thought I could never be cheered up anymore, never look forward to anything anymore. I thought I was broken.

And I took a puff again. That overloading nicotine almost made me puke.

I Was So Tired

Do you know that you are a thief? Lifeless but stealing the real life from me. It is amazing how people came up with so many products and pouches for you. It is amazing how I fell into them.

“Eyes are constantly red.” I lied. It was because of drugs, and I knew it.

I am tired. I am so tired. So tired of relying on substance to type, to code, to journal, to become a so-called normal person. So tired of losing interest in everything, feeling like I could not laugh from heart anymore. So tired of being a kid, faking some pain that I induced to myself. So tired of playing damsel in distress and dreaming of saviors. The highs are lower, and the lows are lower into the crust. My skin was like the surface of Mars. My head was constantly aching. Insomnia. 4 am and the cold wind sneaked in through the window crevice. I was lying in my bed sucking in the demon that froze me second by second. I was so stupid. I am so mad right now, thinking about how stupid I was to imagine that a substance would free me from people. It did though, by distancing me from everything else, freeing me from an obsession by introducing me to another. Fuck you, nicotine. Honestly, fuck you.

For so many times, I made up my mind to quit “after this one,” yet I always have an emergency vape lying in my drawer.

Ironical and hypocritical. Why would a man in jail have a gun. Why would I need a vape if I wanna quit.

I wanna be free. For real this time. I wanna be truly free. I wanna feel everything again, without nicotine.

I remember that a long time ago, when I laugh I laugh like a crazy bitch; when I eat I don’t get disgusted by the minty flavor left on my lips. Every moment dived deep - even the worst was not disguised. They ripped me open, but they were real.

I know they can come back to me.

Don’t remember the last time I vaped. It was recent. But I don’t want to make it a ceremony by over-emphasizing the last puff.

Went for a run yesterday, and my lungs felt like they’re flipped inside out.

It felt so damn good.

Check How I Grill Myself:

Hot Grill ep1. C₁₀H₁₄N₂ -- 1.0.

Hot Grill ep2. C₁₀H₁₄N₂ -- 2.0.

🫡🫡🫡

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Published 22 May 2025