A chapter begins just as fast as it ends. Keep in mind of your surroundings and how you truly feel about the air around you. Encourage the idea of obtaining what is deserved, but don’t entertain what you already know is long gone and impossible to translate into reality.
Do not fear mistakes, but don’t repeat history. Looking through your past can reveal answers, use that to your advantage for what is to come.
Balance your expectations with structure so that you will avoid self-sabatoage. Do not set yourself up for failure. This goes for others around you too.
Maintain your precariousness, stay cautious and recognize your agenda — as well as others.
Embrace the upcoming season as you showcase your growth to the surrounding crowd. Your efforts in strengthening character have been recognized by others. Love is a great game to play, whether the second party reciprocates it or not, it’s a skill to maneuver your way around emotions.
An immense amount of self-control. I feel as if I am training myself for love. Whatever that is. I feel myself communicating with my past self. Understanding the pain and reversing the aftermath. I am stronger now. More transparent.
Though I still walk in the shadows. I’ve fallen from the heavens and all that is left of me is milk and honey. In silence I plan my death. I work two steps ahead. Considering what has and what will. Not enough to be at the top, but far too great to be at the bottom.
I feel as if I am a lost cause. Every word that comes out of me, everything I create, every idea I try to bring to life is not enough, and will never be enough. I tell myself I’ll feel better in the morning, but when I wake up all I can think about is how much I want to go back to sleep.
08.04.2017 2:43 am
Chapter Four: The Pisces That Never Speaks
Need I say more.
Your silence cuts me like a blade. You’re a dream that I can’t turn into a reality. You’ve done nothing and thats exactly what broke me a little. I come back together, piece by piece, and fall apart again and again, but each time the pieces are always hidden somewhere else.
Even in my sleep I can’t escape the thought of you. Summer is ending and I won’t have any excuses to talk to you from day to day.
I’m such a fool, a fool for not speaking. A fool for allowing you to charm me. A fool for thinking there was a chance. A fool for even writing about you.
I can’t wait to move on, to get you out of my head, and to forget this ever happened. You’ll move forward, never understanding the spiral of emotions I went through.
—but maybe that’s the beauty of this. I felt something. I felt a lot of things.
While you felt nothing.
Self doubt passes through my body in waves. It begins in my chest, moves past my throat, and out with my breath.
I’ve never experienced such strong feelings. I’m losing clarity. I’m losing intuition — and most importantly, I’m losing myself.
I’m meeting yet another persona of me I didn’t know existed.
I’ve dug myself into a pit. I’m breaking my own heart. I’m writing letters to myself while you’re oblivious to it all.
Eliza pointed out that my inability to express and confront my emotions is not of my nature. I completely agree. I can’t talk you. It’s impossible.
For once in my life, I can’t embrace my true feelings. Leave me alone. But also, talk to me.
My feelings have risen to the surface of my shallow waters and I have to accept them. I’m still hidden from your sight and I am not sure if that’s a blessing or a curse. Maybe it’s both.
I’ve decided to confront you ambiguously, throwing subtle hints here and there, left and right. I like the way you respond. It gives me hope. Half of me believes there is a shared connection while the other half of me is pessimistic to it all.
I look within myself for answers, I wish you revealed something. Anything. I’m fueled by emotions and you are emotionally absent.
For now I’ll wait in hiding.
A list of this year’s Summer interests:
- Sun hats
- Being nude
- Les Paul and Marshall (my guitar and amp)
- Emotional acceptance (which fucking sux!)
Today my grandmother introduced me to sewing and made these pants for me. No one else in our family is familiar with a sewing machine and I want to learn.
Took me long enough to realize I am capable of making my own clothing. In the Philippines an old woman who lived with her taught her the art of sewing in exchange for a temporary home.
While teaching me, I told her I wanted to pierce my ear. She told me she hated my piercings and tattoos but accepted them because she loves me. I laughed and smiled. She acknowledged the spontaneity and youth in me and so did I.
07.16.2017 Sunday Night
With burnt lungs and beer filled bellies we danced with Joshua Trees and watched as La Luna slowly rised. She’s so bright she masks the stars around her.
We sat together and spoke about love and much more. Eliza helped me write Greyfield and I looked at her for inspiration. Always.
Our tent was a mess, but I loved it that way. I read my dreams to Eliza as she fell asleep. As the sun rose, so did we.