Sunday Night, Monday Morning

IMG_5909.JPG

It’s 12:18, I’m sitting outside on the curb in my pajamas with burnt lips, burnt fingertips, watching the stars and searching for something I can’t find.

Loneliness can be beautiful. I am alone.

Advertisements

Désespoir

D85E3416-CF19-4B13-91D6-5572C3AA38A4.jpg

 

08.16.19

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.

 

Chapter Four

08.04.2017 2:43 am

Chapter One: The Aquarius That Broke My Heart
Chapter Two: The Cancer That Excited Me
Chapter Three: The Gemini I left behind

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.

Pour the Milk

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.

IMG_3863.JPG


One Fish, Two Fish

07.20.17

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.

Processed with VSCO with c5 preset


Summer Stripes

07.19.2017

A list of this year’s Summer interests:

  • Sun hats
  • Being nude
  • Stripes
  • Blues
  • 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.



 

La Luna Rising

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.

IMG_3660\IMG_3866

FullSizeRender 3