Today, I thought about you

I hate thinking about you. It's inconvenient, especially because I do not want to miss you. I do NOT want to miss that unhealthy relationship.

However, I cannot help but wonder how you are doing with life. No, I do not want to help you out anymore, but I do hope that you're not in a deep shit hole as well, and actually doing something productive. I don't even have your number anymore.

I could look you up on facebook, probably, and message you for it. But, I really do not want to go down that path. I really promised myself that the last time I would contact you, would be on your birthday, through a text, just to say happy birthday. I'm not reaching out anymore because I do not want it to seem like I still want you. I do not want you to think that I miss what we had. I do not want you to think that I'm going to try and break up whatever you got going on right now.

So, that's just why I thought about you. I cannot talk to you. I feel like we would not have much to say. I do wonder, if we will ever be friends again though. Would we be mature enough? I really was just trying to be friends again, but you thought I wanted more. Definitely. Not.

So I stopped texting you. Eventually lost your number when my phone erased them all. And I don't really care to get it back, unless you decide to randomly contact me. My number has never changed, but yours always does. Why? Cuz you could never pay your shit on time. So that's why, I do not want to talk to you. Because, while I do hope you're doing better, I want you to be having a shitty time as well.

That is why I can't talk to you. We can't be civil.

So the end.

I doubt you even think about me anyway.

Flickering light

What if
space didn't matter
because Space technology finally made it easier.
Would that be easier to let our guards down?
Or faster to cement that last brick in the wall?
Would that accentuate the empty space within ourselves?

It would be too easy at that point, right?
Life is built for challenges, anyway.
We love to seek out the mirage in front of us,
and knowing we'll never reach it.

But what if
it's finally a reality
And you're disappointed?
Do we hide again because it's not worth it?
Pain?

Maybe we seek pain
just so we don't eternally feel empty.
Or maybe it's just my mind.
Finding pleasure after constant hurt and setbacks just to get a grasp
on what happiness might mean.

Why can't happiness be a feeling on its own? Only a constant comparison.
Why are we afraid?

Yet we continue to walk on, fully dressed in armor
Shield ourselves from the bright lights that eventually blow out.

shitfuckdamn

So... I'm feeling a bit more vulnerable these days.
It has been that way for the past week or so, mostly.
That comes with letting one's guard down though, right?

Here I sit in front of the computer where I should be writing an essay on how our food system has fucked us over, but instead I sit here and think of you. I wonder what you're up to. (And that scares me.)

At least, I know the feeling is mutual. I know you're scared too, right? We cleared the air, and here we are. It's intense. Do we know what it means? Hm. Haha

We drifted a little. But you caught me. I was kind of fine, gambling with the thought of being alone, and thriving. Yet, this connection was a bit too much to just ignore. Am I right? Even when we didn't speak, I still had the urge to see what's up. I wanted to give you space though--and I'm not quite sure why. Probably my own defense mechanism. I'm always one to repress feelings. After all, why me? Why bother with me?

But then I think, why am I so hard on myself? Why not me? I can be pretty fucking amazing. So what you're seeing now, is something new. The fact that I am gaining some confidence in who I am, and what I deserve.

You understand me though. Even though it seemed like my feelings did come out of nowhere.

I am deathly afraid of being attached to you. Not because you're not amazing, but because you really are--and I enjoy every moment I get to speak to you. But this space issue. The space between us. That's tough. Mentally, we're pretty fucking close though. But is that enough compensation? I like to think it is... although I admit, without physically being around each other.. I really don't want to go crazy.

I guess it is just because I've been through this situation before. I fell hard. I sense that this very well may happen again. But again. The distance. No bueno. However, I feel it is not fair to hold back anymore. I've only been myself. I genuinely have these thoughts. I genuinely want to know you. I don't want to scare you away, at all. I want to keep making you smile, and laugh (among other things). I want to make you think about the world in a different light, although you already do that well enough on your own--And that's what gets me.

I don't know what to do, but I know that I can't stop talking to you. Or thinking about you.

Shit.
Fuck.
Damn.

It is what is though. I'm happy that we've gotten to know each other. Happy that it just started off with an offering of tacos. Crazy, huh?

Until I Move Out.

It feels like I have to suppress my feelings.
Feelings about everything.
Family.
Friends.
People I like.

Because there's just no use in tackling these problems, if I cannot be independent.
Who the hell wants to deal with a girl that can't have a life? People want to have fun when they are interested in someone. They want to have a night out without having to worry about curfews.

It's not that I want to be older. I just want to be trusted.
I made a HUGE fucking mistake, and I guess I'm still paying my dues.

Whatever. I'll just repress anything sexual. Put it into an energy that will get me through school faster, get me money faster. So I can get the fuck away from here.

withering away

what the hell happened?
...
nothing but cryptic talk.
skipping ever so delicately around.
back to the way things never were

stalemate.
my home.

a girl can dream.

see price here

An Experience

Walk. walk. walk.
Inhale. Savor. Exhale.

Forward to a setting where you're being drawn. Or not.
Totally high.
Strange music playing in the background, yet freezes in your ears. Drowning.
He stands so nonchalant. Sipping that coffee.
Calls my name and I'm totally gone. Oblivious.
And he eyes me.

Rewind. "Why go to the club, or parties.
I'd rather get high and see some fucking art."
I Agree. I'd love to be like Warhol.
Or be his factory girl.

Forward. Motherfucker, fuck me. Lover. THERE SHE WALKS,
With 2 curls laid out by each ear.
She's gorgeous.
Timer on. Ticking away. Slips out of the white cover.
Draw it all in. Inhale once again. Shit, stress while I float.
Charcoal dust flying from my finger tips. Falling from my canvas. Never. Never. Never.
She sees me look at her.
Avert my eyes. She's bare. Vulnerable.
I'm sorry.
Pose/sketch/pose/sketch/pose/sketch/pose/sketch/pose/sketch
Scribble. Detail. Shade
Tedious work.
Surface art and drugs.
Let me draw yours lines. Let me lay out the powder.
Let me draw your shadows. Let me breathe you in.
Let me draw your shell. Let me pass this.
Then break it, deeper
to vulnerability. to Fear.
Let me.
Or make me avert my gaze.

where do we go for an hour?
look at you. just like everyone else.
put you down. pick you up again. pass you around.
you stand still. twitch. sweat. try not to move.
ambitious. and delirious.
"Thanks. You were fabulous"

Life: art in the making, your drama, your problems, you are an altered reality. that is art.

[check] lady gaga concert tickets. lady gaga ass

okay, well when i meant ass.. i probably meant sex. but i did get plenty of good looks at her ass tonight. well, (considering the time it is now) LAST night.

and i LOVED IT.

AFNA 2010 Irvine -- thurs-sat. im getting drunk every chance i get. and high if someone brings the good shit.

good.night.

dear you

i'm finally coming to terms with it. and though, i know you'll probably never EVER come across this blog.. i just need to write it out.

we shared something that wasn't natural. we lived a life that most don't. we lived a secret. we were stuck in our own little world--literally. and even though it was me that initially *tried* to step out of the world, you were the one to truly put it behind you first. and here, i sat, dazed, delirious... regretting. but i knew one of us had to feel it first.

i guess it just hurt because when i found out, thats when i needed someone in my life. i thought i was losing my grandpa. and that piece of news from you, truly just dug deep and kind of just took me off my track. i finally felt that broken heart.

so i started to do things to get my mind off of you. get things done for myself, to make myself feel better. getting my lobes stretched. saving money for piercings and tattoos. hanging out with my friends more often--people that CARE about me and my well-being. not just people who call me up when no one else can help them. not just people that call me up because they need something for me to do for them. i can't believe i let myself be your bitch for so long. and now i feel even more stupid because im feeling hurt that you've moved on quicker than i did.

not to say, that i haven't met new people. its just that i haven't made that step. but maybe, thats YOUR insecurity. you NEED someone to be there for you. you NEED that intimacy because you don't know how to be alone. is it always like that for pretty girls?

you haven't heard from me since you texted me for a weed hook up. the last you'll hear from me is just a short happy birthday text in a few weeks. because i can't give a shit anymore. it's stupid. and you make me feel worthless.

but i know, i have other people. other people that i can chill with, sober and drunk. laugh and cry. and i can be me, without them being ashamed of me. in fact, they're happy to be around me. they were here before you were in my life, and they'll be here when you're forever gone.

if for some shit miracle happens where we become friends again, so fucking be it. but its not because im there to be your bitch again.

so goodbye, you. glad you have someone else to take care of your bitchwork. don't come crawling when they're tired of it.

im sure you'll have a fan base soon, and you'll never feel alone because you're doing the whole music thing. but hey, just don't lose yourself. whomever that may be, because i sure as hell don't know anymore. and just know that once you hit that point, alot people will be in your life for the wrong reason--if they aren't already. so. whatever, good luck.


sincerely,
me.

cigarillo

por favor.
gracias.