underneath

and she dug her nails deep into her skin, in search of the colors that she longed to show. layer after layer. flesh under flesh. she dug until she hit her bones. she hit the cold hard iridescent ivory pieces that were structured so meticulously within her skin. they've told her time and time again of how she's going to end up letting her worries eat away at her, but they were wrong. the cause of the problem was her. her and her intoxicating lethal mind. she always thought her skin was too thick for her to really feel what the world was telling her and so, she dug. she dug until all of her luminous incandescent bones were showing and i promise you, she felt exactly what she needed to feel that night. emily, i felt exactly what i needed to feel that night. i felt you.

coastal

discovered yesterday night that my dad has been diagnosed with diabetes. i couldn't help but sit in my bed and tear up. i have never felt so vulnerable. it didn't feel like there was much of a difference, but never in my life have i seen my dad so helpless. it feels like everything is just weighing me down lately. i'm overreacting and having emotional spasms over everything. i need a prescribed bottle of "chill pills". is that what they call it? i'm going to do nothing but paint tonight. get rid of all this negative energy and start off fresh tomorrow morning. my apologies to anyone who has been putting up with my petty emotional bullshit. it will all cease here.

small snippet of my paintings

and my moleskine entries

drops

are we going where we planned to go? tell me, is this what we really wanted? are we doing this the right way? i feel exhausted. i feel hopeless and sometimes, i wonder if we started this off with the right intentions. i question us too much. i have too many doubts and i hate myself for doing so. i absolutely detest that i have so many trust issues because it's not fair to you. it's not fair to us. i promise that i'm trying my best to break through and i'm sorry that i'm making it so hard for the both of us. i hold so much in because i don't want to be a burden. everything and everyone i try to keep close to me always somehow run away from me. i'm aware of the fact that you've only scratched the surface of who i am, but i hope to God that you don't run away like everyone else did when they saw my deeper layers. i hope that you still feel the same way as you did when we first met because sometimes, it doesn't feel like you do. but i'm trusting that you do.

"We never need to say anything to each other when we're together. This is- for the time when we won't be together. I love you, Dominique. As selfishly as the fact that I exist. As selfishly as my lungs breath air. I breathe for my own necessity, for the fuel of my body, for my survival. I've given you not my sacrifice or my pity, but my ego and my naked need. This is the only way you can wish to be loved. This is the only way I can want you to love me. If you married me now, I would become your whole existence. But I would not want you then. You would not want yourself-and so you would not love me long. To say 'I love you' one must first know how to say the 'I'."

---------

playing this nonstop as i write this post

threads

it's in the morning when she feels the most secure. it's right before the sun takes its daily peek past the horizon. that's when she knows she's safe. under her covers and away from the world. it's when she feels the purest. it's when her sense of identity and love is at its strongest. her covers whisper words of assurance and the sunlight speaks nothing but wholeness over the pieces of her soul. there's something about mornings that she relished so much. could it be the consistency of the promise that these mornings will always come around? or maybe it could've been the freedom they ever so kindly blessed her with. regardless, they made her feel infinite. as if her soul could fly away and perch itself on the maple tree branches just around the corner of her street. these mornings gave her the chance to taste freedom with the tip of her tongue before the world reeled her back into its forceful grip. these mornings gave her hope. hope that there are moments and interstices that are filled to the brim with nothing but liberty. hope that she is still human. these mornings assure her of her sanity. they keep her in tact. they keep her safe. these mornings are her refuge.

ghost

why can't i ever fucking speak what's on my mind? why is it so impossible for me to articulate the thoughts that eat away at me from the inside out? i hate having these doubts. i hate having these second thoughts. i hate having all of these worries. i resent thinking in general. i hate that my mind ventures into all these unknown places when it's evident that there's nothing but troubled minds and worried hearts out there. there's a reason as to why i created this concrete jungle within me. there's a reason why i sit behind all of these beautifully plastered walls. i hope one day, someone will break them down and demolish them for good. i can't stand being here anymore. i can't stand thinking anymore.

empty rooms

i don't know where this is going, but i'm hoping it'll go where there's light. i'm having faith that even though it'll go through its own journey through the hills and valleys ahead, it'll end up where there's nothing but goodness. soils enriched with compassion and promises. and that although we may be stuck in our own reveries and wishful thoughts, we'll find each other even when reality floods our innermost beings. because i feel for you. i find my heartbeats with you. i confide in you. don't let this sink. i've come come out too far for this to sink.

arms

my stomach is killing me, i have a fever, and i'm shivering. what a great way to end spring break. these past seven days have been one of the most grueling, unproductive weeks of my whole entire life. minus the two days well spent with the boyfriend, i honestly would prefer going to school over feeling so groggy and disgusting for the other five days i spent at home or Starbucks.

other than that, i haven't been doing much writing and reading. at least, not as much as i used to. i need new paintbrushes. i need new sketchbooks. i need a new moleskine. i'm tired of being so tired. i'm too lazy to get out of my laziness. i'm too bored to do anything entertaining. does any of that even make sense? do i ever make sense?

now that both my housing and tuition fees are in, i can most definitely call myself an incoming freshman at nyack college. interesting. i never thought this was going to happen. going to college and leaving high school and all. everything seems so surreal to me. all these fleeting thoughts and small glimpses of the next four years of my life send shooting stars up and down my spine. looking forward to dorm decoration shopping with the room mate soon. that puts a smile on my face. i guess life is looking up after all.

the passenger seat

i trusted

the promises

i believed

in the consistency

of our heart beats

i didn't know
i couldn't see

the outcome
there was

guilt
running down my

veins

shame
shivering down my

spine

regret
pounding down my

bones

wounds

scars

wrists

stomach

thighs

ankles

they will

heal

the reason

to be quite frank, i'm frightened. i'm frightened and i don't know what's going to happen. it's been a while since i've last felt this way. i can't remember the last time i "fell in love." is that what people call it? falling in love? because it's awfully harsh to call it that way. if you fall, there's always a bottom you hit. what i'm scared of is hitting that bottom. rock bottom. what happens when you reach the end? is it all over? or is love something that never ends? a bottomless hole? that seems just as awful as the first image. everything has an end. everything has a closure. life itself has a end: death. relationships all have an end: break ups. i hate to be such a pessimistic bitch, but i can't help that i am, after all, a pessimistic bitch. the glass is always half empty. it's never half full for me. i honestly don't even know where this post is leading to. i don't even know what i'm writing about anymore. all you and i need to know is that i'm afraid. i've always kept my guards up. i've always had my walls up. i guess they're coming down one by one. i don't know what the future holds. it's unclear. foggy. that makes me feel uneasy. like my best friend said, ineffable feelings and loves are always the ones that are the sincerest. i'm not saying i'm in love, but i'm scared that it'll lead to it. trust is something i was never good with. love is something i was never good with either and it's all your fault. after those 2 years, i can barely think straight anymore. i'm glad you walked out of my life. you were horrible anyways and i'm glad i don't know where you are anymore. i'm glad, but i'm scared.

"I remember the day you left,

tying rocks to your ankles,

you said,

"I am going to find a

new world under the ocean."

I guess you must be enjoying yourself.

I haven't seen you since."

- Elizabeth Pfeffer 

little dreams

a walk in the park with tarred lungs

i'm clean.

horrible horrible mood, but the fact that i have no school this whole week is making it somewhat bearable. sometimes i wonder why i let myself and others suffer. do i enjoy receiving pain and inflicting it upon others? why do i care so much about this? why do i care so little about that? why do i overreact? why do i worry myself to bits? these shaking lips and this stuttering mouth could use a rest every now and then. i'm a sick-minded hopeless romantic and i have no idea what's wrong with me.

replay over and over and over again

quiet.

it's become clear to me that my identity hasn't quite surfaced yet. i realized that whenever a new being steps into my life, i force myself to shift and change according to what they're like. sometimes, i wonder if the way i am is truly who i am. i wonder if it's just another layer sitting on top of the rest that are suffocating my real identity. why am i never satisfied with what i do? why am i not able to accept things about myself? how can i accept or even tolerate the actions of others if i can barely stand the person i am? i'm not scared. i'm not scared. i'm not scared. i'm not scared. i let those three words run so swiftly through my mind, but the truth is, i am scared. i'm scared out of my fucking mind. i don't know where i am or where i'm going anymore. i've lost myself and i'm falling deep when i swore to myself that i would never let go. i wish i could be myself again, whoever that was because at least it felt comfortable being in my own skin, even though no one appreciated me. i don't know where i'm running to and i truthfully do not know where the light is anymore. i'm just hoping that somewhere, somehow, i'll find my way back. i always do.

"Even if the rain always wins and forces my eyes shut to dream of, I'll still dream of brighter days."

i will always dream of brighter days.

on letting go

I want to make sense to someone. I don't want to sound pathetic, or clingy, not even somewhat indecent, just normal and decisive, happy and congruent. I don't want to give pieces of myself away to people who will throw them away in a matter of a few months; I hate that the most. People seem so decent, even genuine and different, but they do something or a series of things that make them the most despicable of them all. I hate how I end up blaming myself though. I wish things were so much different, and we didn't have to thrive and live off of things like self-validation and reassurances, because I know I am so much stronger than those words. I hate talking about myself, but I love it at the same time. I am shallow and indecent, but I really wish I weren't. I wish I could record all of the things that I felt into real, legitimate words, but here I am, stumbling over ineffable, ephemeral feelings, and not writing the things I bury the most. I say I hate people, but I really just hate the fact that I do. I hate how reliant, or independent, I am towards people depending on who they are. I hate the way I am and the way I can be. I'm sorry if you're reading this. I hate that you're actually listening to me bask in this type of self-pity. Some things are better left unsaid, but other just boggle down a mind that is already halfway there. 

the way i am compressed into one paragraph

this is why we're best friends

seize the day

spring break is finally here. even though i have loads of homework due the day after i come back, i feel carefree. now that my parents legitimately do not care about my curfew or where i go, i am embracing freedom with both arms wide open. i am being enlightened. i am being introduced to new things. it feels wonderful. simply and beautifully wonderful. i am enjoying this. i could live with this. i really could.

i've been listening to a little bit of ellie goulding lately

this remix is my favorite.

this is stoner music

is that what you potheads call it?

credits to liam eisenberg for introducing me to A$AP ROCKY

i'm not much of the rapper type but his notes drive me insane.

here's a picture of the best friend

i miss her so..

cardiac things

maybe if i weren't so submissive towards the influences they throw upon me, things would unfold with much more ease. they would unfold smoothly over the rocky terrains i try so hard to walk down. their points wouldn't pierce my feet all the time. their points wouldn't pierce my heart all the time. maybe if these sporadic changes were to glide by without abrupt interstices, my mind wouldn't be so cluttered with all these things that i should be ever so indifferent towards. it's not fair. i find it hard to be impartial. i find it hard to not cry, shake, and worry over this. i find it hard to remain tranquil and doubtless. i find it hard to trust the words that you type so effortlessly onto that screen even though in your heart, i know you're engraving them as promises. its difficult and i give you my word that i am trying my best to live through this open heart surgery. i feel you probing my heart and i swear i felt you digging into the deep dark places that i nailed shut years ago. but that is alright with me. because i am trusting you. i am trusting these engravings.

i miss the best friend

best friend day 2 and 3

these pictures are from yesterday.

the best friend left today.

i look like a complete dude in the first two pictures.

all is well.

best friend day 1

light graffiti

francesco sapienza

dreamy dreamy dreamy

francesco sapienza's photography makes me feel dreamy

see more of his work here

reel it in.

today was absolutely the worst day ever. on top of three tests that i was bombarded with, i realized that the first draft of a huge paper for my lit class is due tomorrow and out of all the days a person could pick a fight with me, someone decided to pick one with me today. after being caffeine deprived for the past two days, i managed to chug down two cups of coffee and a can of monster in one sitting. i feel much more alive now that my addiction has been satisfied.

my fingers look awfully fat in this picture.

nonetheless, my phone case finally arrived today.

i guess that's one thing that makes me happy.

two things if you include the person i like.

three things if you include the fact that the best friend is coming in 2 days.

i guess three things should be enough to keep me alive.

 it's time to get these fingers typing. aeschylus, sophocles, euripedes, and aeistophanes, prepare to be violated by my knowledge in greek drama. absolutely none. help.

 boom.

sugar.

the best friend, hannah lee, is officially coming into NJ territory this coming thursday. spending three whole days together will be bliss. i love, i love, i love her. no one can fully know who i am or marry me until they meet this girl. she is the most down to earth, awesome, honest, super pessimistic, friedrich nietzsche loving piece of shit that i have ever met in my life. my love for her will be the death of me.

my hand in marriage goes to the both of you.