One Day

Maybe I was dreaming that you loved me It must have been the way you touched me That made me imagine intimacy Maybe I was dreaming that you loved me The way you confided in me Made me believe in myself Maybe I was dreaming that you loved me I practiced a smile And to you I was glowing Maybe I was dreaming that you loved me For when you chose me for my mind I believed there was more to life than looks ... Maybe I was dreaming that you loved me You told me that you needed space I had no clue I interfered Maybe I was dreaming that you loved me I called you every night I was shockingly ugly Maybe I was dreaming that you loved me For I was crying in parking lots Writing morbid poetry Maybe I was dreaming that you loved me I could never sleep And I wished my life away ... Then at some point when you texted me Everything was anew And then again I lost you I don't know where I went wrong I see you everywhere You are so happy and I am so sad You a

I wish there was a way to not love you but I do and it's hurting me. I thought about you the whole ride here. Even going to sleep that night, tears streamed down my eyes for 2 hours until I woke up and realized I was still thinking about you and had not fell asleep. I'm in pain. When will I ever feel okay again?

Reaching for you In places that have been left By the memory of you Burning through my head Just the very thought of you Makes me wonder of things unknown In my future And on this day I hope you are happy Even if I will never see you again I hope you think of me And know I didn't wish you harm I hope you know I loved you And though I am lonely And crazy I will make it through some day It's been lonely looking at the stars Without being in your arms I wonder if I am beautiful enough To be loved at all But someday I won't be alone And at that moment I will know I am home Until then I am alone And that is Okay too Sitting here And thinking of you

I want to leave the country I know what happened in this election is partially my fault because I voted for Trump in my anger against a global establishment of elites I know that because of my anger, I should be blamed for what is happening in America Illegal immigrants will be deported It won't affect me Muslims will be targeted It won't affect me Whites will be killed It will effect me I am ashamed that we have someone elected to the office of President of the United States who is racist, Islamophobic, xenophobic, sexist and homophobic However, I don't want to be blamed for what is happening And I know that many people hate Trump the way they hate me I am just as bigoted and hateful as Trump Which is why Spencer has stopped talking to me and is probably fucking some nice, liberal girl who reminds him of Princess Diana suffering with something akin to Depression And yet, I just want to fucking leave I don't want to defend my mother when th

It's empty where you were Hidden in the dark Staring at the stars Listening to the sounds of a distant train I think that we often do not know what we have while we have it Yet I know I knew better than To take for granted my time with you From the moment I met you I knew I was looking into the past That room where I imagined your arms Now your hand has left a wound on my face I feel like a freakish piece of art Looking back at our time I can't help but wonder what it meant And realize it met nothing Even though to me, you meant everything

I think about what I am doing with my life a lot and if it really matters. Sometimes I think my ambitions to be a teacher are too out of touch with reality because of the low pay and the toughness of the job. It really isn't the career you want to be in if you want to make money and academia can wear professors out after a while. I also find my career choice isn't helping me grow as a person. Isn't that ironic that I have found that? Perhaps it is because of being diagnosed with Bipolar that I have figured I need to be more than I am. Sometimes reading and writing feels more like a form of escapism for blocking out a world I need to learn to be apart of even though education is ironically said to make people smart. It's like parenting. I don't think it's good to be a parent at my age but who am I to judge those who have the maturity and relationship experience that I don't have? They make peace with their lives, learn practical skills, master relationshi

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I am nothing Empty noise Passive aggressive stare Amid joy and laughter True love and intimacy Friendship and voices I am the brick wall The LED sign I am free

He told me he met someone else. I cried horribly for two days and now I just feel numb. I should die metaphorically speaking. No man really will ever want me. I am just a selfish person. Homes, hobbies and love are just for people that are kind and good people. You know what is amazing? I am not upset. I thought about her mouth on his penis just now and I didn't feel anything. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe I have lost my ability to love another person. I might not love him at all.

There is sometimes nothing you can do in the end Exhausted of all options I am tired of keeping up with a world that does so little for me I realize that no one will ever know me should I never do something for them Yet I don't want to help them should they break me I can't take another hit Because all this frustration is finding it's way nowhere The more I try to understand the world The more I understand that it doesn't make sense at all We the human race on a tiny rock in space Floating around in a meaningless existence The insistence is to make something out of this nothingness If you can't, the Depression will catch up with you It has caught up with me There is no more meaning I find it whipped off as soon as I attempt to write it to page I am living a life of nonsense The doctors can't fix me and society finds me disposable I don't blame them I really don't blame others when there are better options out there Yet I can't sto

I don't know what I feel or if it really matters honestly. Sometimes, I am struck by all the things that have happened in my life and I don't feel like I have the strength to remember it all. There is just so much pain inside of me with no where to go and I don't want to force that pain on anyone. Yet the loneliness, it too kills me at night sometimes enough that I start to feel ridiculous for trying anyway and I wish that I would try harder but sometimes I feel like I am just so much a burden that I shouldn't bother anyone at all. I can't run from my past even though I am still trying yet I don't want to let it consume me so I am stuck between the past and the future with a present that I don't want to live. Not really. I can't let them know I have pain because they will destroy my life if they know. I am just back to being invisible again.

Peoole crack Because of one scratch That one scratch Turns into a million other scratches Cause one injury is enough to recover from But if you hit a person Too many times With too many blows It will break The imperfection will be Completely noticeable And irreparable Until there is no way to fix That broken self But to dispose of it For a newer line Of finer quality That can better handle more blows

I thought the first debate wouldn't bother me. I was really excited for it. When I watched, I was worried Trump would make her look bad. I started laughing at some of his remarks against her. Then the debate took a wrong turn when she started talking about keeping guns from the mentally ill and that Trump was too emotionally incompetent to be president. I understood what I was worried about. That same gaslighting tactic was used against me to completely destroy my sense of self. Donald Trump, like Margaret Thatcher, is my mind. However it was much deeper. I was looking at a man being blamed for Cognitive Dissonance and labeled Bipolar. I was looking at myself and denying my shadow self. The reaction surprised me. I couldn't believe how many news outlets said she did well. I realized how mucn hatred I have had in my heart for being scorned for being different and now it is happening all over again. Society needs someone to blame I suppose but I never thought society would blame

Destruction is creation Only from death can life come My reality shattered A eternal recycling of self What am I striving for To reach a peak of creativity? To know all? To lose everything that matters to me and find something new? I realize I don't know my identity My own heart is foreign So my perceptions of people feel like lies and When I look in the mirror at myself I recognize myself a little less as every day goes by It's hard to live inside this world without offering your opinion Yet it feels virtuous and holy To minimize my effects on this world To absorb all of it's facets To explode from loneliness inside the silence If the purpose of life is to exist Then I want the universe to destroy me So I can feel God

A woman sat across from me. "Alright. This is what you are going to do. You are going to finish your Literature degree. You won't get accepted into graduate school right away because your grades are so low from all that medication you were taking. You will complete a certificate program in teaching and go back to graduate school just for the hell of it. Then you will become a teacher in California. He will meet you and you both will be married because he realized the error of his ways. You will be an excellent teacher and write a bestselling novel adored by millions. People will cherish your name when you die and move onto a better state of being. Your mission will be completed: enlightening the world to your unique way of thinking so they can elevate in spiritual conciousness." It was interesting when I woke up to remember my concious engineered this woman (an exact replica of myself) to tell me what I should do in my life and give me meaning for a physical reality t

God you punish me Say it is in my best interest I don't know if I should feel guilty of sin Yet it moves through my blood Damn those who can forget their ills and woes For they are blessed in getting ahead in life Virtuous is he who acts in aggression To those who stand in his way Righteous is he who Blames everyone else for being wrong My father was a proud man He held his shoulders back as he walked Showcasing his biceps and his cock An eptiome of masculinity While I hide behind piles of books The library is nearly empty Faint sound of cars echoing outside There is so much to learn Not enough time to absorb it all If I push myself Will I someday find everything inside Good and pure? Or will I be still running away from my father? What would happen if I let him catch up to me? He would rape me All the books would fall apart This meaningless diploma Once held in my hand Burned to ash

There is beauty in everything There is beauty in the night Watching the street lamps shine Gazing at a myriad of glowing stars The echoes of crickets Cold sweeping onto your bones There is beauty in bed Your face blending with the dark The warm caress of your hands The absent space on the bed When you are far away There is beauty in humility Joy in the silence In a loud chorus of voices Pleasure in feeling small Virtue in being lost There is beauty in pain The freedom of losing your mind The painstaking effort Of putting yourself back together Just to tear yourself apart again There is beauty in surrender In the coming of death Beauty in the agitation of conflict Beauty in finding light in the darkness Beauty when you get up in the morning To try one more time As the sun rises on the horizon

There is a place called home I wish it were my reality The fuzzies of a warm cat Rubbing against your leg The comfort of a warm coffee The glow of a computer A lover Sharing the most Intimate parts Of themselves with you Not reality Which continually brings me out Into the cold light of the moon That is not my home That is not a world I know I once felt the confidence Of a 1000 Queens Inside my chest It is amazing How that confidence Can break away Into a nervous sweat

I am traumatized. Seeing Ozca brings fear into my body. She is a Muslim girl wearing a full hijab dress. I went to school with her. I do not remember how we had our falling out but the truth is, I am terrified of her. She hates me. Maybe the trauma was forgotten in my mind but the bodily sensation of seeing her brings back all the memories I had of being bullied by Brenda at Milton. I realize now that I was traumatized by previous bullying, academic stress and struggle with my stepdad yet I still feel like I may have gotten worse because of being put in a mental hospital against my will due to bullying by Porsha. It has made me learn not to trust people. I am terrified. I'll admit it. I wonder how long I can continue trying to actively ignore the memories of high school before my brain explodes in full blown terror of abandonment.

I feel like people hate me. I also feel like I have been blacklisted by my last name. That the government monitors my thoughts because they view me as a threat. I don't see myself as a threat but sometimes people tell me that my thoughts are dangerous and shouldn't be shared. Afterwards, I immediately delete what I wrote. I hate being called wrong on every account. It's not a fair criticism and I don't take it seriously yet I still do take offense and often suffer anxiety when anyone criticizes me in any way. When I was shunned by my friends in high school, I deleted: my Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Livejournal and even my previous Blogger account. It's the same with relationships. Why do they always end so badly? They usually make me psychotic when the guy says I am crazy or points out a fundamental flaw in my thinking which causes me to avoid social interaction and criticism all together while I struggle to make a new plan for how I address the world. Yet there is a

I think about Spencer a lot. That is probably not what you want to hear but it's true.  I had friends ans even a casual sex partner but the main reason I left Southern was because of how hard it was to forget his eyes. Being the new kid here and trying to find my way around is hard and embarassing. It makes me think of him becoming my friend my first semester at Southern. How everything seemed so scary and then there was comfort in looking up at his room and longing for him. Everyone liked him but I probably am the only one who became so smitten entirely. When he rejected me, I needed someone else's comfort. When that person left me, I willed myself underneath Spencer. Even after he has used me probably for some porn website, sex and broke my jaw in; I still love him. I guess it's true what they say about women being overexcited and in love with the bad guys. Would he turn me off if he were suddenly attracted to me? He said he would come back and yet I can't believe it.

I want a job To stick my stilletos in a man's chest It's the 21st century Women don't have to depend on men anymore Hillary Clinton will soon be the first woman president I want to move on the corporate ladder To buy BMWs and Direct TV Blue blazer and Khaki Pants Nice Merrel shoes Vacations on Royal Carribean

Hello Do you see me? I come from another planet I run on a higher frequency You can see wings protruding from me I don't walk on the ground I am hovering Separated from you and your world Invisible and silent As unassuming as these white walls The world is so fragile At any point it can fall apart For the weak You can touch me if you'd like You would see that I am real Please smile and say hello I am dying to meet you The monsters have a rope around my throat They snarl in my ear and they won't let go They walk around Chatting and laughing You will eat me if I get too close

When you lose love It's like an attack on your soul The biggest lie We tell ourselves Is that we should have known Humans are polyamorous animals Always looking for the next best mate Competing for sex Thar is why I remember heartbreak most I had a lover once His hands different than my own There is something so sexual and powerful In doing something you are not supposed to do What I did with you Now the universe is a void Left with your remains and I Sick to be apart of it Fled to a different realm like a ghost Yet you can't really ignore What you've escaped I ask myself everyday What am I doing? Who am I kidding? Will any of this ever make sense? While the past rolls on endlessly behind me Feeding each of my past selves to the wolves Comfort dies like quick flame Once I felt your body between the sheets Now you have turned into dust I step under the cold space skies Guided by an inner light Lit from an invisiblw hand From places unknown Th

Factory line assemblage You are nothing but you can't admit it Cause you are terrified There is too much to loose To much to gain by going to war Fighting to be alive in Wonderland Heat sweating under your armpits Cause you don't belong You're here That means something right?

First day at a new school. I am terrified. I sat on the Marta train with all these grown up adults feeling like I could jump out of my skin. I guess commuting doesn't matter but still I had the back to school jitters feeling "What if these kids don't like me?" It's stupid and pathetic but I have already felt stupid since leaving Georgia Southern. It's funny but Georgia State makes me miss the other school and what I had going there even though I was suffering Depression my last semester there due to Spencer breaking up with me. I had so much going for me. Maybe that's an overstatement but I was going to finish my second semester of Integrated Chinese, join the PR College Association of America and get started on my major classes. I hated everything I had done there. Mostly I hated myself. I didn't like myself you see. I felt like I was turning into a sociopath, that I really was Bipolar and that there was something guys didn't like about me. I hate

Thea might have been a well developed planet before it hit Earth. Imagine two rocks smashing together. It's kind of theoretical in a sense but through accretion these dust particles came back together to form the Moon. That's how all the planetesimals were created. If there was a Great Flood, it could have been possible that the Moon was more interlocked in Earth's gravitational field then than it was now but unfortunately I can't do the math for you. A theory is useful in that it is the best description of predictive events based on observational scientific data. I consider myself a spiritual person but knowledge is only useful if it can be interpreted by human reasoning. If any data I can collect from a higher conscientiousness is not useful to the human collective, I remain silent. This information could be useful with substantial evidence but if there is no proof of the data it is best to remain silent.

There is this girl in my lab class. We had to do a lab the other day but she moved to the far side of the table. There is also this guy who likes her and they basically didn't include me at all on the lab the other day. It made me so mad. She is still sitting at the far side of the table.

Sometimes I feel like there's two of me. There’s the one who exists right here in the now. This individual has her own views and her own ego. She is able to make decisions even when she is a callous bitch about it and the world is generally easy to understand. Then there is the other person inside of me. I swear she is the most disagreeable person. Her name is Maoko and she is my past life self. She wins a lot of the time because she hangs onto her past or should I say OUR past.  Even before that was a girl named Talulah. She was a slave woman who was murdered. None of her life was that great. She’s fucking us both over even though she is technically both of us.

I hate being shamed. The reason I hate it is because of how shamed I am of myself, let alone the shame other people put on me for .my mental illness .my political views .my religious beliefs .my sexuality .my morality .my intellect .my looks .my emotions All these things. I can't go a day without being shamed. It seems like this will never end. Maybe there is something wrong with me but I don't know what it is. I just want to know.

I've tried to accept the fact that minority groups do have a reason to be angry even if it is unreasonable. I get that marginalized groups need a voice even when they choose to shame other people. I have also accepted in my mind the benefits of the social justice movement in bringing the country together and eradicating prejudice. I have tried to keep silent about it but I too get exhausted from all the ways they use the "racist, homophobic, islamophobic, fatophobic, ageist, sexist" agenda to push shame on other people to get what they want. Some of the stuff too would be little things. I was having a discussion with my ex boyfriend the other day (who is Black) about polyamory. The only reason he liked polyamory was because he wants to have sex with as many girls possible. Not that there is anything wrong with polyamory - I've run into a lot of men who have shamed me because I am a women saying that they expect this sort of thing as well as women and men who are femin

I don’t want to be the one to talk about the Orlando shooting in this way but I am going to do it because there are many problems that need to be addressed. I would hate it if I got hate for this but since it is my honest opinion and I feel the need to share it, here it goes.This opinion belittles no group to my own observations. It was a hate crime and a terrorist attack. That much is certain but did you know the shooter was a registered Democrat and a normal United States citizen before this event? We don’t know if there is a mental health issue. The problem is the natural assumption that we are over racism and homophobia when these civil rights issues have seemingly been solved. It is a natural indicator that a person can be targeted by terrorism and consumed by hate. It is an indicator of something that is happening everyday. Whether it be the Charleston shooting or other shootings in the past, this event is an indicator that we have to be more aware of the people that

Dream a small dream for me Right now I am in the ether Floating around in a wave of dreams The tide is pulling fast There is nowhere to hold on Pray that you will find me Cause I am tired of searching All my lives swirling into one Yet one angel remains Separated from my arms Pray that I don't Find comfort in the drop From the high building To the below Pray that I don't Give my body In empty alleys To drugs and alcohol Pray that on The empty train I don't dream About my death For right now is dreamtime It is magical Yet it requires one thing That you find me now

Global voices Screaming The world Never stops moving I look for you Feeling like I am stuck on a spaceship Of light and color That you are a ghost of the past This is the future Commercial industry A model of the world Already mapped out Reduced to nothing Do you hear me Amidst the noise? I want to rise above the sounds Hidden by my silent form I want to be seen For the world to unfurl before me Like a gigantic snake You hear us All of us Though you may not see me I was hear

The truth is that the world is so unbearably loud I realize that while we try to assign explanations to things, these explanations will inevitably fall through and we will have to replace them with new ones to comfort us through the night Even though these beliefs are suspect to outliers On the road to searching for myself, I have lost my ego I want to be angry at what has happen to me I want someone to encompass me with warmth and unconditional love oncemore I don't want to go through a humdrum day of the sun rising once more and learning so to prepare for my life I am unbearably lonely and kind of screwed up Yet I have accepted this loneliness as a sort of purge Though I am in denial of how scared shitless I am I think I will continue only cause It gives me something to do and for that reason I will go on living

I am not an expert on past lives in my human form as an Artcurian Indigo but I can give you a general premise of how I have come to familiarize myself with my past lives. Usually anything that bothers you in the present can show an indication of your past lives. Usually,there are many indicators of your past lives through the friends that have had significant impact on you as well as the books or movies you keep in your possession. We are not limited by our location, nationality or sex. Man y of us have been cross=gendered which accounts towards being Gay or Transgender. We also have had lives of slavery and prostitution which have led us to have low self esteem, unhealthy relationships and to choose lives of suffering with mental illnesses or with systematic prejudice so that we may familiarize ourselves with the plight of oppressed and underprivileged groups. I have no real answer as to why I remember my past lives and others don’t. Perhaps the reason is because some of us are meant

I am giving up on love. I am giving up the belief that there is one person we are destined to spend the rest of our life with. That they will have a certain amount of qualities as well as I. That we will be emotionally mature enough to deal with a long term relationship. I should have thought of this a while ago. Maybe it's just a sign. Like some people aren't meant to be popular, to go to college, to become rich or to find love. It's not the end of the world because if you find love, you have to keep it too. If you can't keep it, what's the point of finding it? For a temporary relief of happiness and belief in all the Disney Princess movies? I am not missing out on anything. I just have to find other ways to enjoy my life rather than going out and meeting people. I can read, write, study, go to school, shop, work, etc. I could even make more friends but love is off the table. Love isn't for me. Babies. Animals. Mortgages. Weddings. Sex. Childbirth. Divorce. Why

There is so much I discovered today and there is still some stuff I don't get. Let's just clear things up for anyone who might be following this blog. My family must have an addiction problem. My grandmother Geraldine and her sister Aunt Trudy were really into Psychology and Psychiatry. Aunt Trudy was always justifying the medication she was taking for her erratic behavior. Eventually she committed agravated battery and died of too many drugs. Geraldine loved my Grandad and though they broke up because he was being very flirtatious to other women, she moved back to Florida and got a 6 year degree in Psychology wanting to be a therapist. Only she must have felt drunk and maybe suicidal even when she found out my grandad met his new lady - my stepgrandmother - then went and got on the highway. Committed vehicular homicide. That was that. Nothing to show for her life. I guess it seems unfair to me even though she did kill another person and caused a lot of grief in another family.

When my grandmother and my grandad broke up and she found out of his affair with a young latina women, my grandmother drank whiskey and drove on the highway going the opposite direction, She ran into a head-on collision with in an incoming truck and killed a person. She died of a drug withdrawal August 1, 1991 in Palm Bay, Florida. My grandad is still married by the way. So I bet you enjoyed it Face it, I know you did Last night up in your dorm room There were two different girls One was named Amy and the other was named Sarah Amy is black and she is a good Christian you met in Baptist Collegiate Ministries Sarah is white and she is your girlfriend. She also liked girls. She agreed to share them with you. "That is why I love you" you said. "You are mature and don't get jealous like other girls." So you stuck your dick in Amy She took it like a good whore While you choked her throat Sarah sucked her tits Then you stuck your dick in your girlfriend

I can't believe that there are guys going around expecting their girlfriends to allow them to have sex with other women. I can't believe that there is so many people who think this is okay when the man will probably leave her for the other women. How can a woman watch as her boyfriend makes love to another woman? How can this be expected to be okay but not be the other way around? Why do men look at us like we are cattle? I would rather die than go through that and I have had many guys that didn't want to put up with me because they called me "crazy." I wouldn't put up with a friends with benefits or polyamory. I was "selfish and only thinking of myself." I can't sleep. I can't breathe tonight. I don't know why people continue to think this is okay when it made me want to kill myself at age 16. A whole cult of people thinking polygamy and polyamory is okay is not good. They don't understand how detrimental it is to a person's self

All that I gave up to you Amidst all my fear Led to the bare skin of our bodies touching You called me beautiful and told me you loved me It was never enough and now you are with her The responses on your Facebook photo "You guys look so cute together!" As you smile cause you feel you found love I sit in the darkness of my room Loudly crying as my roommate talks to her boyfriend next door She called me a "slut" I cry and I cry Nobody will ever find me beautiful again All of it was for nothing Every hope I had for a long lasting love was dashed My quests for love were in vain You can just continue all your bad behavior I can continue to get insulted by the internet You grow fatter and taller Your eyes pop out at the sight of your meal Filthy cannibal My limbs ache Plastered to my bed Life goes on The Prince will find a new Cinderella I thought I was she I turned into her nasty stepsister by the time you were done with me Now who could ever

He has been the third guy in a long time to call me a stalker. Said I imagined the whole relationship. That the letter on my car was from someone else and that I was too blinded in infatuation for him to see the truth. That he did in fact use me for sex (again the third guy), felt sort of bad but not really because it's just too hard to try and be a good person. Asked for me to "Please don't contact me again. Even when you feel guilty about this hours later, don't text me." I feel like I have been shot in the foot really. I know I tend to over-idealize things but we really did have something going at some point. Perhaps I clung on or maybe he just changed his mind. (Probably the later.) So yeah. Now I am a slut and a stalker. My ex's are still doing fine without me and I am left really to wonder why I keep chasing "nice dorky guys" who really just "use me for sex." I would infer that there aren't any good guys in the world or that I am

I am tired of wanting to die

A cold winter and my hands are frozen My eyes are weary For a long time they were open There are piles of books Each waiting be open There are pictures of worlds Of emotions left unspoken There is a formula for the writer A certain system to be achieved We must display the characters As neither good or bad Just psychological Significant humans A location A scene focused on it's nature The sunlight pouring through it's trees The drowsy morning of a mid summer The cold walk during the middle of the night in December Christmas lights adorning the trees A girl walks with her arms wrapped around her chest Wishing it was easier Wishing he was here There are things fantastical to be written about Yet there are also those normal, everyday moments There is a mastery of language that is needed A mastery of languages A mastery of diction A mastery of lyric Yet all the same A clear voice So that anyone could read it Original but not too original Enough to se

I have been reading more of Sylvia Plath's Unabridged Journals and I got to her honeymoon with the attractive, intellectual Ted Hughes. It's not hard to understand why she is attracted to him as I was attracted to S. Them sitting together on a balcony with their coffee and writing together on the same desk seems really romantic. He's her intellectual equal, perhaps even her soulmate. Who wouldn't what someone who shares your passions in life? Even though he treats her horribly as their marriage progresses. Looking back in retrospect after watching the movie Sylvia to reading the journals, it is now easier to see that they were meant to be together. Ted Hughes is as much apart of Sylvia as Sylvia is of Ted Hughes, foe better or for worse. Sylvia Plath is a fan of Virginia Woolf. We have both read her novel The Waves and I watched the movie The Hours which is about Virginia Woolf writing Mrs. Dalloway and the two generations of women who read the book afterwards. Both of

Love Love Love When will you notice I don't want to play this game anymore Love Love Love Let's be honest I liked it better when I was pure Love Love Love You filled me with fantasy The idea that true love existed Love Love Love You reminded me to be disappointed You reminded me that true love doesn't exist Whether I am promiscuous or pure It's never coming back I will never get a chance to love again To all the men, I am hopeless To all the men, I deserve it Because who can want a slut? My ex fucked me up but that doesn't matter No one cares about him Hm, I am getting older My wrinkles are growing My hope in everything is failing Life is harder Finances are shorter What the fuck is this feeling? It's Love Love Love You are moving on Leaving me in the dark Love Love Love Maybe some are just naturally lucky I don't feel lucky at all Love Love Love Prescribe the Lesbian pill Perhaps I could be a better man Love Love Love Why

I don't ever want to be married. Ever. It is a trap. To feel at one moment like the sky's the limit and that you have the potential to be loved unconditionally. Then the next, you are hit with the crushing reality. You are not good enough. Whether you disagree with him or love him too much. Whether you move the relationship too quickly or not at all. You are not good enough for him. Then comes the crushing reality: his girlfriend. She is prettier than you and nicer than you. They have a fun time together and even his parents like her better than you. He's not afraid to show themselves off in public and he believes in love again more than he ever could with you. How could this happen? Is it that I am truly crazy enough that I will never have a man who can love me for all my faults and foibles? It was fantasy. It was believing that I was good enough. That I was deserving of being loved. That was my foolishness. To close my eyes for even just a moment to pretend that I could b

It's been a while since I posted and since this is a private blog, I have decided I need to turn to it in this moment. Sometimes I look in the mirror and I don't recognize who I see. With my brown hair, green eyes, freckles and tan skin. I keep wondering if I am just in an avatar body because the person I expect to look back at me is Indonesian. I feel Indonesian now that these memories of my past life have come up. Realizing that I was part of a movement to rid of Anglo-Saxon influence in the country puts me into perspective of where I am now - very Anglo-Saxon and living in a Conservative/Christian/Southern family. If I told them how I felt, they would think I am crazy. My memories now stem longer than my actual birth. The things that have happened to me in the past now seem insignificant. Now I am more interested in my people and what happened to them. Too bad I don't know how to speak Indonesian yet! It would greatly benefit me to learn due to the gap between info