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Thursday, 29 December 2016
Sunday, 11 December 2016
Saturday, 26 November 2016
Monday, 7 November 2016
Inevitably existing with the purpose of pulling heart strings to...
Inevitably existing with the purpose of pulling heart strings to the brink of // d e c a y . http://ift.tt/2fvE6md
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Sunday, 6 November 2016
Wanted a potosyut but he won’t even look at me 😩😒...
Wanted a potosyut but he won’t even look at me 😩😒 http://ift.tt/2f7fWjh
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Friday, 14 October 2016
Sunday, 2 October 2016
Saturday, 10 September 2016
Untitled 2
I am listening to an upbeat song, about living life and loving without limits. It's so weird when I can barely hold a conversation without overthinking. I realized how protective I am of me. I feel like I have never really lived fully, without thought, without fear of judgement, without apprehension. I always have to think, I always have to have everything planned and nothing brings me more anxiety than having something unplanned and getting in situations with other people I don't know. It's getting harder as I grow since I am being forced into situations that require much interaction, much spontaneity as well as experiencing milestones with those near to me, birthdays, graduations, baptisms, weddings - I have never let anyone immerse themselves in who I am. Always left with what's on the surface and it's scary knowing I want to soak into someone's identity too.
Friday, 9 September 2016
Sunday, 28 August 2016
Friday, 19 August 2016
Saturday, 13 August 2016
Cling
She wanted
what I cannot offer.
She wanted days
embraced
by the security
that I offer,
Erasing her
insecurities
with my presence,
thinking that
it was mutual //
I don't know anymore.
I hate her. I tried to write in prose but I cannot encapsulate my disgust.
I hate how conceited she is. How she needs affirmation from me that she's pretty. How she bombards me everyday with selfies asking me to drop compliments. Asking me constantly about how I think about her body.
No.
I don't really care. I did but now I'm sick of it. I tried but now I'm tired. I'm tired of constantly hanging out with high maintenance people. Having to walk around with a noose for a leash around my neck.
I hate how she's touchy, how she begs for eye contact all the time. How she tries to involve herself in everything that I am.
"Love me" she begs.
But I have lost that love for a friend.
When I realized that she was there
Only to love herself.
what I cannot offer.
She wanted days
embraced
by the security
that I offer,
Erasing her
insecurities
with my presence,
thinking that
it was mutual //
I don't know anymore.
I hate her. I tried to write in prose but I cannot encapsulate my disgust.
I hate how conceited she is. How she needs affirmation from me that she's pretty. How she bombards me everyday with selfies asking me to drop compliments. Asking me constantly about how I think about her body.
No.
I don't really care. I did but now I'm sick of it. I tried but now I'm tired. I'm tired of constantly hanging out with high maintenance people. Having to walk around with a noose for a leash around my neck.
I hate how she's touchy, how she begs for eye contact all the time. How she tries to involve herself in everything that I am.
"Love me" she begs.
But I have lost that love for a friend.
When I realized that she was there
Only to love herself.
Friday, 12 August 2016
Saturday, 6 August 2016
Saturday, 30 July 2016
Friday, 29 July 2016
Friday, 22 July 2016
Friday, 15 July 2016
Monday, 11 July 2016
11:23 P.M.
You know the feeling of not giving a damn anymore. I hate it. I hate being disappointed, which turns into anger, to making an effort to drift away and eventually to saying hellos and leaving behind this person who once meant so much to you.
I hate throwing away years of memories, years of building trust, shared experiences. Secrets turning into utterance of hi's and how are yous, of "yeah I'm fine" after burying conversations six feet under. Of having that glint in your eyes, that elation within your bones slowly dwindle to dust. And that warmth felt from companionate contact grow uneasy, grow unbearably cold.
But this year was the year I held my ground. Of burying another to save myself. Of releasing toxic people and prioritizing my own happiness over others.
I am not happy, in fact I'm distraught with all the people I cut loose to save myself from drowning but I know I did well as I begin to untangle myself from self inflicted pain and breathe the fresh air for the first time in a long time.
Saturday, 2 July 2016
Friday, 1 July 2016
Friday, 17 June 2016
Saturday, 11 June 2016
Monday, 6 June 2016
Tuesday, 17 May 2016
1:37 A.M.
I'm currrently staying in my parent's bedroom floor, watching some random home shopping channel. Seems like something a 21 year old would do, yeah? No. But lately I have caught a sickness, one that has no symptoms, no physical manifestations and no medicinal cure --melancholia. I feel so lonely, all the time, even when I talk to other people so I tend to remove myself all together because it makes me even more sad that I do not feel the joy other people get from shared experiences. I am empty inside. As if I was carved on the inside, gnawing, eating me from the inside. The worst part is, I look happy but it doesnt reach my core, doesn't change my thoughts nor awareness on how artificial it feels and sometimes I cry without knowing why, without any warning. I still find this so odd because again, I am not sad, I am empty and yet I cry.
Monday, 16 May 2016
Friends.
I am such a low maintenance friend, I sometimes wonder if my friends think I'm already dead. I won't get clingy and tell you to date me or talk to me at least 4 times a week. Wanna hang? okay, let me get my shit. Rain check? Sure, I'll see you when it's convenient for you. Have a spare ticket and your intended friend couldn't come? I'll meet you in a few. Need help with acads or some event? Equipment? I'll give you what I have, it's yours too. That's me. That will always be a part of me. Reliable to borderline exploitive. Which is why I wonder why some people can't do the same thing for me too.
Saturday, 14 May 2016
Disposable?
I cling on to people who would rather have nothing to do with me.
I give my all yet receive so little.
I seek them out, wanting to take refuge in their warmth but all I got was a cold shoulder.
I give them chances to prove me wrong. To erase my doubts but all I got was silence for affirmation.
What do you do when people replace you? When they're your constants while you're disposable?
I give my all yet receive so little.
I seek them out, wanting to take refuge in their warmth but all I got was a cold shoulder.
I give them chances to prove me wrong. To erase my doubts but all I got was silence for affirmation.
What do you do when people replace you? When they're your constants while you're disposable?
F a d e
I am fading. I often wonder what might happen when I pass. Would there be bouquets on my doorstep? Would people cry in my funeral and tell funny stories about me? Would they remember me? It is narcissistic to think about how other people would react when you die but then it is the inevitability of death that makes us strive to be more. To achieve more. To gain and collect experiences and things in order to feel fulfilled. It is the inevitability of death that makes us live. Often I see life as a third person, floating about, peering through windows in other peoples lives; engulfing myself in other people's experiences. This is when I realized that I am fading. Just flipping through the pages instead of savouring every word. Going in and out, living in a monochromatic blur. I don't know if its normal to waste your days living other people's lives. Sitting in bed thinking how good life is for other people. I get jealous. Maybe its the fever kicking in but I feel worse thinking that as I fade, I don't think I'd be receiving any bouquets.
--------------------------------------------------
How by Daughter, currently in my mind.
--------------------------------------------------
How by Daughter, currently in my mind.
Wednesday, 4 May 2016
Crevices
You climbed the wall
and I was there
building castles
of bricks
"They're nothing
but sand" you say
as waves drew in
the fortress
I built
towards the
ocean
You were sunshine;
omnifiscent
stirring
currents
inside
hollow bones
Until
you
were
drenched
in the landfill
that was me.
You found out,
that there was
nothing there.
N o t h i n g
to keep you
warm, under
white sheets
n o t h i n g
but maps
and footsteps
left
by
strangers.
N o t h i n g
but detours
and connecting
flights
N o t h i n g
but a closet
full of shells
of
past lovers
Gradually,
and then all at once
You left.
not even a whisper
no,
not even a goodbye.
I
wonder how you are
gradually less often
and one day
you will be left
in the crevices of my mind;
collecting dust.
Whispers and Misadventure (on Wattpad)...
Whispers and Misadventure (on Wattpad) http://ift.tt/1WJ5GMB Gradually and then all at once You left. // Words strung by a sad girl //
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Marie
That is all she knows.
Blinded by digital windows
Inevitably displaced
in virtual destinations
Of finding warmth
Through befriending pixels
instead of people
Saying "I love you"
To fleeting faces
Only to be left
yet again
by a man
made from strung words
on a mobile phone
and nothing more.
Oh how you fall in love
With the idea of him
on screen
Oh how you fall in love
With type-written
love notes
Whose sweetness
Ought not to be held nor touched
Whose fragrance
grew stale
In a box
of Imagined reality
Inevitably existing
with the purpose of
pulling heart strings
to the brink
of d e c a y .
| n o t h i n g n e s s |
We were born to
// die.
Don’t you realize its
truth?
I don’t want to wake up realizing
That my {existence}
Has been spent on thinking,
Never touching,
Never feeling
Anything.
F
a
d
i
n
g
…
down to
Daily interactions
Of fast-paced
| N o t h i n g n e s s |
_________________________________________________________________________________
A poem from my Wattpad
Fire
I am an arsonist.
I set fire within sleeping souls,
empowering the lungs
to drop daggers
through hearts,
until we both get hurt.
Burned out
from part-time
passions,
we drew from a
small flame, until
we succumbed to
the auburn haze.
I Swore
I'm trying to be better, I swear I am.
I have constantly battled my demons in broad daylight through color, through physical vibrancy, through facial animation. But every now and then I slip and I get back to where I was all over again, still stuck in my personal hell, never moving forward. It hurts, knowing that no matter how hard you try to break through the surface you always plummet down, spiralling downwards through days, through weeks, through years. It's been years. I am tired of looking behind my shoulder thinking everyone is against me, of reading through words and finding myself irrationally hurt, of fighting the current that has enslaved my being. Despite my penchant for romanticizing my pain, I get hope; slivers of color in my monochromatic perception. These few moments are those that I crave the most and I fight again. Fight for the light to never leave me, to smother it until I can no longer. Desperate to give what I have and have someone else take it. To find kindness in words, in small gestures and finally to find kindness for myself but who am I? I am gone.
I have constantly battled my demons in broad daylight through color, through physical vibrancy, through facial animation. But every now and then I slip and I get back to where I was all over again, still stuck in my personal hell, never moving forward. It hurts, knowing that no matter how hard you try to break through the surface you always plummet down, spiralling downwards through days, through weeks, through years. It's been years. I am tired of looking behind my shoulder thinking everyone is against me, of reading through words and finding myself irrationally hurt, of fighting the current that has enslaved my being. Despite my penchant for romanticizing my pain, I get hope; slivers of color in my monochromatic perception. These few moments are those that I crave the most and I fight again. Fight for the light to never leave me, to smother it until I can no longer. Desperate to give what I have and have someone else take it. To find kindness in words, in small gestures and finally to find kindness for myself but who am I? I am gone.
Tuesday, 3 May 2016
Saturday, 30 April 2016
Monday, 25 April 2016
Resentment.
I abhor you.
And I mean it through
every explicit syllable.
You are selfish,
You are self-centered,
You are vain.
You are not special.
You are not a spectacle.
You are a time-bomb.
A narcissistic, pseudo-
intellectual. An apathetic
entity, the cancer of society.
Sucking the life out of
you perceived spectators,
through the litany of
your everyday
grievances.
You have the depth
of a mud puddle.
and a mouth
that never sleeps.
The funny thing is
I resent you
and you resent you, too.
// Rants in free-verse?
And I mean it through
every explicit syllable.
You are selfish,
You are self-centered,
You are vain.
You are not special.
You are not a spectacle.
You are a time-bomb.
A narcissistic, pseudo-
intellectual. An apathetic
entity, the cancer of society.
Sucking the life out of
you perceived spectators,
through the litany of
your everyday
grievances.
You have the depth
of a mud puddle.
and a mouth
that never sleeps.
The funny thing is
I resent you
and you resent you, too.
// Rants in free-verse?
Saturday, 23 April 2016
Replaced.
I have always been fascinated by the past or rather remnants of it. Stored in little cupboards and boxes, left in dark, musty attics. It has always been something that I appreciated. I enjoy tinkering hand me down film cameras with all its dents and scratches, dusting old vinyl albums from my mother's collection, going through yellowed pages of books and magazines, collecting old bills, makeup and trinkets. Back when the internet wasn't a big part of my life, I have never found this odd.
The attraction to the replaced, I have found was quite unusual later in life, having been saturated in popular culture and peer pressure. What pulled me in yet again was the surrealism of it all.
How can I draw nostalgia form things which I have not been born into or accustomed to and use them for escapism?
Precisely because it existed before me.
Most people escape to futures, futures where they would be more than who they are today. I on the other hand, leave for the past unknown to me. To culture left by people on tangible things. Through completely detaching myself to my current identity and reliving what might have been if I were there. These remnants of culture, tell narratives which they have lived through, each contributing to a shared reality that defines an era in society.
This idea of human mortality humbles me. It illustrates my insignificance with no one to tell my story but items left in storage slowly experiencing their own decay. These items will not die with me, but rather continue history intwined with another's whether it be to conquer foreign places or to sit in a cardboard box.
And it is because of this romanticization of human finiteness and the importance of a tangible legacy that I cling to the promise of a past, that soon I will be handed on to the future.
The attraction to the replaced, I have found was quite unusual later in life, having been saturated in popular culture and peer pressure. What pulled me in yet again was the surrealism of it all.
How can I draw nostalgia form things which I have not been born into or accustomed to and use them for escapism?
Precisely because it existed before me.
Most people escape to futures, futures where they would be more than who they are today. I on the other hand, leave for the past unknown to me. To culture left by people on tangible things. Through completely detaching myself to my current identity and reliving what might have been if I were there. These remnants of culture, tell narratives which they have lived through, each contributing to a shared reality that defines an era in society.
This idea of human mortality humbles me. It illustrates my insignificance with no one to tell my story but items left in storage slowly experiencing their own decay. These items will not die with me, but rather continue history intwined with another's whether it be to conquer foreign places or to sit in a cardboard box.
And it is because of this romanticization of human finiteness and the importance of a tangible legacy that I cling to the promise of a past, that soon I will be handed on to the future.
Friday, 22 April 2016
A Nobody's Opinion on Elections
Election time has come upon us yet again. And the time has come to choose another set of leaders who would best represent us. Yet I feel that as we saturate ourselves inside our social media platforms, we become even more closed-off and separated.
Our social media sites have become a series of hateful, angry posts recklessly strung in a world devoid of accountability. We have become distrusting to our fellow men just because he campaigns a leader different from ours. Everything is assumed to be black propaganda. And when we cannot use reason to voice out our opinion, we dehumanize and deconstruct our opponent to brash utterances, grammatical flaws and physical quirks.
Why do we waste our time fighting each other when we should be monitoring our candidates? We want accountability yet push for a person who allegedly kills his opposers, we want transparency when we can't even condemn the man who has stolen taxes for his own gain, we want change but we can't even change our voting behavior; rooted in traditional politicking, misplaced charisma, perceived popularity of the candidate and regionalism. We want to uphold our rights, but we disrespect each other. And the most ironic of all, we want to impose discipline, when we can't even cross the street properly or avoid throwing derogatory words at that girl who wore shorts on a hot day or that man in that wheel chair.
We are walking contradictions of our perceived selves. We revel and parade ourselves in the light of self-righteousness. We are right and everyone else is just background noise.
And if we were to be completely honest, one only wants change when it puts him in a position of power. We are not so different from the politicians we hate.
WV
How could something you have worked hard for be a cause of shame?
We are flopping
Close to the brink of inexistence
Because we don't believe in it
How could other people
believe in its beauty
When we refuse to see it
for ourselves?
Lost,
we are all but rubble
for no action comes from
a mindset that lacks
vision.
We are flopping
Close to the brink of inexistence
Because we don't believe in it
How could other people
believe in its beauty
When we refuse to see it
for ourselves?
Lost,
we are all but rubble
for no action comes from
a mindset that lacks
vision.
Thursday, 21 April 2016
A Post from 2012
"Endure."
There is only one way, there are no other options, no other solutions, no shortcuts. It will be tough, it will edge me closer to my limits but I can do nothing but hope for the best and endure. Life happens when we reflect and question ourselves, life happens when we search for answers, life happens when we find our true purpose. Life happens when we become the person we thought we could never be.
Just thought I really had to move on now, everyone seems to be doing it and I know I should too or else I’d be stuck where I am now with no more room for improvement. “Nothing would ever be the same again” are words that I did resent at first but now looking at what might be ahead and the promise that it holds, I’ve actually accepted my fate. Sure it’s not what I really wanted, sure it’s not what I would call perfect but it is what it is. I wouldn’t be able to change it even if I wanted to. But what exactly am I left with? A thoughtless decision made because of other people’s dreams for me and now, it’s bound to drastically change my life. I wanted it enough, I’ve dreamed of it, I’ve prayed for it and now I have to learn from it.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that half the battle is knowing the reasons to keep on fighting for it and I will because I have no other choice, I have to endure to succeed.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Endure was an ode to new beginnings with apprehension.
It was uncertainty.
It was me being shoved in a reality that I felt I had no control over.
It was different from what I had envisioned from my life.
Today, I must admit that I am as clueless and as reckless as I was when I wrote this. I am still uncertain, I still am having trouble constructing my life and everyday is a beginning with apprehension. But what these past few years have taught me is that I always, to some degree have control over my reality. I may be shoved into situations that may or may not be due to my actions but I can control me. I can control how I feel, how I react and what I have to do in order to succeed.
These 4 years have not taught me complacency nor self-assurance but it has taught me to live, day by day. Ready to bend, to fold and to conquer in a 24-hour interval.
Wednesday, 20 April 2016
You can do it.
Today, I am out for b l o o d .
Tuesday, 19 April 2016
U G L Y .
I wish I was pretty.
Someone who had sunshine for hair
flowing, like waterfalls
escaping her waist.
I wish I was pretty.
Fragile and porcelain
with roses for lips
and eyes full of youth
I wish I was pretty.
collar bones like trenches
to be seized
by wandering arms.
But no.
I am not.
Someone who had sunshine for hair
flowing, like waterfalls
escaping her waist.
I wish I was pretty.
Fragile and porcelain
with roses for lips
and eyes full of youth
I wish I was pretty.
collar bones like trenches
to be seized
by wandering arms.
But no.
I am not.
Monday, 18 April 2016
Monday, 28 March 2016
Monday, 21 March 2016
Tuesday, 15 March 2016
Sunday, 13 March 2016
Friday, 11 March 2016
Sunday, 6 March 2016
Sunday, 28 February 2016
Saturday, 27 February 2016
Saturday, 6 February 2016
Wednesday, 27 January 2016
Saturday, 23 January 2016
Sunday, 17 January 2016
Saturday, 16 January 2016
Friday, 15 January 2016
Wednesday, 13 January 2016
Monday, 11 January 2016
Wednesday, 6 January 2016
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