May 2012
17 posts
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I am taking a little break from writing. I do not write to understand or clear up emotions anymore, I write to satisfy something deep inside that is too engulfed in darkness for me to identify. So I will no longer feed it with my posts that are beginning to scare me, just as if I never wrote them. Perhaps I wrote my way into a world of madness where nothing makes sense and I lost the desire to...
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Scary is it not? To forget who you are, to have your closest friends retrieve your identity by saying all of what they think of you. To capture that ideal image they have of you and act it out because you are nothing but an empty shell of a nobody. To use the personalities you have studied because you are capable. In the morning, I wake up and think about the possibilities of how the day will go....
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I slowly sense it approaching me and it feels as real as I’ve traced it’s aura with my numb fingertips like braille since my eyes have shut itself tight from the blinding of false lights. It is the sense of an end to my present, a rewrite for my future, a complete deletion to the past. The cover of a well written book, the last paragraph on the last page, the final words in the last paragraph....
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I haven’t been writing (as you can tell) on my blog. There isn’t much I want to say anymore, not to you but in general. I’m tired of expressing the same things over, and over, and over, and over.. and accumulating followers for my nature of writing. My life is again slowly sinking through the cracks and I feel so immune to those who say they got me. I feel too broken to fix myself, and that is a...
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palina-nicole asked: yes, i have. i've missed your writing.
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I remember the first time when everything got weird, life became a blur from there. Internally or externally, I tell myself that the only way to deal with it is to just deal it. But it kept coming back to haunt me and I couldn’t paint the perfect picture to say what goes on through my mind to others so I keep to myself after listening to everyone else express their nightmares. Opening up is...
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Counselling people is easy but they don’t say shit when I need it. This is why I keep to myself. I need suggestions, theories, opinions, guidance, and lastly, advice. If I wanted a silent listener I’d talk to the fucking walls in my room— all four of them.
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She said she loved the look of my smile when it isn’t the usual smirk with the quiet burst of one quick exhale. ”Is it the smile lines?” “No, it’s the shape, when I smile my gums show but yours doesn’t. You should smile like that more!” ”As a kid, my smile was never so wide like everyone else.” “It’s a cute smile so from now on...
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You can be a workaholic, a traveler, or a great lover and still feel empty at the end of the day. The hollowness in your heart, whatever you do, stays right where it belongs. We do our best to minimize the feeling with the things in life like addicting substances, love, money, outlets, and self-acknowledgement but that black hole will always be there.
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Mothers Day?
I appreciate my mother on a daily so I don’t feel the need to annually express it in a social networking site where everyone can read it but her. I question the motives of a blogger sometimes.
dailydoseofleahbalanza-deactiva asked: Thanks Jeffrey! I hope that you take care as well :) xoxo we'll be in touch again one day when I reactivate my fb lol I hope you don't forget me and our old lame msn convos LOL
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I remember it like it was yesterday- even better, an hour ago. I had it, happily on the cup of my hands thinking how could I have looked the other way. How could I have not held onto it any tighter? It was hard. Then it got harder. Time slipped and my cupped hands broke loose of its still posture and that was when it slid through my fingertips, exactly like water. I hated it, I hated myself more....
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Don’t ask me what I’ve been up to when you were gone. Do you really want to know or is there nothing else to say? Give me daps and keep walking.
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Being too detached and broken, I’m one of those people nearly impossible to love. After years of the solo life I realize the need for a lover’s type of warmth is such an important human thing to feel, and the more I believe I can do without it for as long as I can, the more it proves me wrong. My mind knows I can’t cater just yet, but my heart begs me to try.
