sexta-feira, 9 de fevereiro de 2018

Jasmin Tea

Close your eyes…
Tell me what you see 
Right now.
Jasmin tea on your lips
Smiles caused by your fingertips.
A maybe, a when and a how
I was wishing for a now…
Jasmin Tea
Swirling in your cup
While I talk way too much
Oh! Just you listen to me!
Not to what I say
But to the way our bodies sway
And the touch of your lips
On my cheek
Warmed by Jasmin tea
Like the colour of my misery!

quarta-feira, 7 de fevereiro de 2018

Hope dies young

Anxiety and depression. They're two twin sisters holding hands in a dark hallway. Much like the twins in the movie The Shining. The more you try to fend them off the more you get enthralled by their voodoo shit. And before you know it, you're on the floor in the fetal position, screaming, crying, completely helpless. You lose control of yourself and your place in the world. It's like you're coming back to your own body after some sort of amnesia induced time travel and you forget who and where you are. Your heart beats so fast you lose count of its beats. You can't breathe or speak. You have this look of terror in your eyes and everyone around you look at you as if you were completely fucking insane! And for a few moments, you feel completely fucking insane! And absolutely no one understands what the fuck it's like. It's so frustrating! It makes me so fucking angry that every time I try to explain what it's like people just tell me it's a phase and that I just need to have fun. I mean... what the actual fuck? A phase? Really? Do you know how long this fucking "phase" has been a part of my life? Years! Ever since I can think of myself as an actual fucking adult. That's how long. Then people are like... and by people I am now talking about my older sister... she's like: "man, you used to be cool! We used to have so much fun together. What happened? Why are you a party pooper now, man?" You know what, Mad? Because I don't fucking want to be drunk and high all the time. That's why! Oh. And by the way... fuck you! Fuck you and your fucking bullshit spewed out from your high horse! You think you have fun? You just get drunk and act like a fucking idiot! That's not having fun. That's numbing out the pain. At least, it was for me. I would numb out everything with booze and pot. So much so that I was someone else. I was still a wreck. But, apparently, I was a fun acceptable wreck. The wreck that I am now, is not someone people want to hang with. And it's cool. I would rather keep my wit about me than numb out all the bad shit just so other people can feel comfortable around me.

They say talking to people about it helps. But it actually doesn't because no one understands. How could they? They haven't been trough shit like this. They're not sympathetic. They try to minimize what I describe so that they don't feel bad but they end up making me angry or making me feel like crap. And the ones that want to sympathise have no clue what to say. So they basically either say some sort of shit like they're at a funeral and then change the subject. And you just sit there going through what you described word by word because you're in disbelief... how can someone just dismiss you so incredibly fast and easy? Like they're turning a page on a fucking book... a page they don't really want to read so they basically skim through it, read something they don't like, and turn the fucking page. And you just sit there... and you hear them talk about their day and shit... you can hear the sound of their voice but you're not really processing what they're saying because you're too busy thinking of scenarios in which you punch their fucking face for being such inconsiderate assholes. You have this blank stare but they don't even notice because they're just barking up a storm about some awesome sweater or whatever they bought on sale. And you literally think "what the actual fuck?"

And that's how you become a reclusive depressive anxious cunt. You wake up, take your happy pills, wash up, get dressed, have breakfast. You go to work, keep your head down, do your job, have lunch, do your job some more, keep your head down and go home. You shower, eat dinner, listen to music or watch whatever show is on that day. Take a sleeping pill so you can quiet all the voices and thoughts running will in your head. Slip into bed. Look at your phone a thousand times hoping someone will drop a line. No one ever does. Not even your sister. Some nights a few tears might flood your eyes because you feel so incredibly lonely. You wipe those tears and swallow all your hurt. You fall asleep watching some movie you've watched a thousand times before. You wake up the next day... rinse and repeat. But some times, for a split second, you dream... You dream of better days and that one day, one glorious day, you'll stand up to those bitch hand-holding twins and you regain control of yourself and of your life. You almost smile at the notion of hope. But hope died young and her twin sisters killed her...

terça-feira, 6 de fevereiro de 2018

The sum of all heartaches

Inspiration left me long ago. The more I fight and try to write, the more I feel empty and void of thought. Nothing flows from me as it used to. Is it lack of emotions? Is it this numbness that seems to fill my broken empty heart a little bit more each time I try to do anything creative? I'm just tired of staring at a blinking cursor on a blank page. Sometimes it feels like I stare at it for hours, days, weeks... months, even!

Sometimes I cry... I forget to take my pills and I cry. I cry because I'm lonely or because I read or watched something really sad. Sometimes I cry because I read or watched something happy. I cry... but not because I'm helpless or sad or hurting. I cry because I don't have the strength to fight anymore. But... it's okay. I'm just tired.

I've been living in a new city for some months now. It's a big and exciting city. I never go anywhere. I don't meet new people. I'm stuck. I'm scared. I'm scared of crowded places. I am socially awkward. I never know what to say in social situations or when I do meet new people. So I just keep quiet. So quiet I feel like the people around me might think I'm a serial killer or a psycho killer. Or a serial psycho killer. Some sort of killer. Who's very quiet.

Years ago I was the life of the party. I would drink and tell stories. I would rarely shut up. I knew how to smile. I was as cool as a cucumber. Now I'm some sort of shut-in, a shade of Boo Radley. I feel like that carefree person that I was got lost along the way. I try hard to pinpoint exactly when that happened but... I fear I will never get to the bottom of it. Mostly because thinking of it, or validating what made me change so much, almost over night, is something that I don't really want to do. I don't know what happened, but I do. I just don't want to re-hash it. I suppose I could say it's the sum of all heartaches. But, in the end, it really isn't the sum of all heartaches, it's just me... tired of being who I was.

Being this reclusive being is easier. It's not as much work as being loved by all because there's really no way of being loved by all. There's always a ton of people that hate you. I know this, because I've been there and being hated... knowing that you're hated by people hurts so much more than you thought it would. Don't get me wrong... I'm not saying that people don't hate you because you're reclusive. You're just not aware of it. And people don't get the chance to see you as often so you kind of fly under their radar. They move on to hate other outgoing and popular people. You're safe! Or so you think... Sometimes a spark of who you were comes back and you make a huge and painful effort to catch a glimpse of who you were just for one glorious night! But... you fail miserably. The sum of all heartaches is always there, in the back of your mind, crippling you and preventing you from moving forward. And maybe there's this guy that you could hang with and have fun with. But the ghosts of heartaches past paralyse you. But still, when the moon is high and bright cutting through the night, and a soft breeze seems to blow as if it's caressing your cheek, you close your eyes and almost smile. You imagine an alternate you, happy and safe in that guy's arms. But when you close your eyes, the moon is gone and only darkness surrounds you. No wind, no breeze. The night is still and you're alone. No arms around you to keep you safe and warm. Just you, alone in your bed with flooded eyes. What do you do when even your imagination hurts you?

When you're sick with flu, like I've been these last couple of days, you think about all these things. You focus on everything and nothing all at the same time. You go back and forth in your mind trying to figure out what to do next because the person you are right now is not the person you imagined you'd be. The person you were isn't the person you wanted to be either! So who the fuck am I? And how the fuck to I get to be the person I always imagined I'd be?

I'm not successful. I'm not an artist. I barely make enough money to pay my bills and make rent. I'm not happy. I don't have an awesome boyfriend. I don't have many friends. I am socially awkward. I have a fear of heights and spiders. I have road rage. I'm detached. I live in a fantasy world. I hate myself. I have depression. No, not really. I'm okay. I'm just tired...

quinta-feira, 9 de novembro de 2017


Thinking about what is and what could be is pointless. You just have to close your eyes and breathe. Breathe in, breathe out. Open your eyes. Kiss him. Hope he feels the same and kisses you back. The "now" is all that's left. There's no past. Don't even dare think about it. There's no future. Forget about the future... thinking too much of the future might ruin the "now". The "now" is the most important time of your life! Live the now! Tell someone you love them. Kiss that someone. Try some new food you've never eaten. Dance around your house naked. Sing in the shower. Tell someone a naughty joke. Get drunk. Go to work hungover. Drive to work with your jam as loud as fuck. Or maybe stay in bed with that special someone and not go to work at all. Wake up next to someone that makes you smile. Bring someone breakfast in bed. Make someone feel like they're the most important person in your world, even if you know they aren't. Kiss them. Kiss them again and again and again... Look at them as if it were the first time you ever saw them. Kiss them over and over and over... Make love to them. If they leave and never speak to you again, cry. And then cry some more. But live! Live, damn it! Stop being afraid! Tell them how you feel. And tell them NOW! Because now is all you have.

Judging Books By Their Covers

"Judging Books By Their Covers" - Keaton Henson

I know I may be lean,
Uncomfortable being seen,
But I feel like I am just what you need.
All my body's thin,
I don't let anyone in,
But I can't help but let this begin.
And though I may seem cold,
And I feel I'm growing old,
I wish that you would just come home.

Cause I'm tired of feeling alone.
Please tell me how to let go.

Love, I know you're doing fine,
Your chapters end so well.
And love, I love your welling eyes,
You seem happy, I can tell.
Love I know you'll be alright,
But I can't help but feel sorry.
Cause love, your book will end just fine,
But I am a different story.
I am a different story.

I know I am a mess, and I love most people less,
But I miss the feel of your summer dress.
And this all may be weird,
I can feel you are not near,
But please baby, just come back here.
Please baby just come back here.

Love I know you'll be alright,
Your chapters end so well.
Love I love your welling eyes,
You're happy I can tell,
Love I know you're doing fine,
But I can't help but feel sorry,
Cause love, your tale will end just fine,
But mine is a different story.
Mine is a different story.

Try and get enough sleep...

How to meet with Death...

quarta-feira, 25 de outubro de 2017

Dreaming of better days

The day is starting and I was just hit with this overwhelming feeling of how huge the world is... and I'm sitting here in my tiny cubicle thinking of how much of the world I've never seen and most likely will never see during my lifetime. It's both amazing and sad. When I was younger I thought my life would have some impact on the world but so far, I'm 40 years old and I'm just a speck of dust flying through the air trying to find a place I fit in so I can finally rest. It's been so long and I still feel at odds with myself. I still don't know where I fit in to. I still feel awkward in social situations. I'm still that strange little girl who talks to herself and daydreams about impossible things. When I was a young girl I always though anything was possible and that if I tried hard enough I could do anything, even the impossible. Now that I'm older, much older, I know better. I miss that naive little girl that would roam the countryside looking for crickets and who brought home every stray cat she'd encounter along the way. The little girl who'd scrape her knees and come home crying. I would always want a comforting word from my dad but he was never there. My mom was always way too hard on me. She still is. I spent my entire life angry at my parents for never being there for me, so I just rebelled and did a lot of shit I regret. My adolescence was very hard on me as I did not have anyone around to help me through it or navigate trouble. And now I'm this sordid version of that awkward little girl, always dreaming of better days...

I've read somewhere, that one can't start the next chapter of life if one keeps re-reading the last one. And as I think about it now, I've been re-reading the last chapters of my life for way to long. It's time to turn the page and let new beginnings flow. But will they be better days? I'm not sure they will. All I can do is hope for the best and have faith that they will be better. In retrospect, I don't think I'll ever know the sorrow I've known and had for a companion for a better part of my life. But you never know... sometimes the universe is not done punching you in the face!

Not Dark Yet

Not Dark Yet

Shadows are falling and I’ve been here all day
It’s too hot to sleep, time is running away
Feel like my soul has turned into steel
I’ve still got the scars that the sun didn’t heal
There’s not even room enough to be anywhere
It’s not dark yet, but it’s getting there

Well, my sense of humanity has gone down the drain
Behind every beautiful thing there’s been some kind of pain
She wrote me a letter and she wrote it so kind
She put down in writing what was in her mind
I just don’t see why I should even care
It’s not dark yet, but it’s getting there

Well, I’ve been to London and I’ve been to gay Paree
I’ve followed the river and I got to the sea
I’ve been down on the bottom of a world full of lies
I ain’t looking for nothing in anyone’s eyes
Sometimes my burden seems more than I can bear
It’s not dark yet, but it’s getting there

I was born here and I’ll die here against my will
I know it looks like I’m moving, but I’m standing still
Every nerve in my body is so vacant and numb
I can’t even remember what it was I came here to get away from
Don’t even hear a murmur of a prayer
It’s not dark yet, but it’s getting there
Copyright © 1997 by Special Rider Music

quinta-feira, 19 de outubro de 2017


Veruca Salt - Disconnected

Disconnected, it's the way that I wanted it to be
The Cult Electric is my favorite record of the week
Cause I'm not feeling sweet

But I can't say that, when everyone is so judgmental
And I can't play back, all the times when you were gentle
Cause even you can't be true

It's astounding what love can do to a city
Laurel Canyon was the best place for you and me to be
I chose the curtains and I dreamed a dream of domesticity
What a freak you made of me

Now I'm on Zoloft, because you told me I was crazy
And I won't jump, cause now I know you'd never catch me
And I can't leave you, because you swore you'd never let me
But even you talk shit too

It's January when I jumped the fence of your backyard
Finish the fairy tale that you were drunk enough to start
It's kind of scary when your lover leaves you for a movie star
And I'm still in the dark

But you have trained me, to watch my back and drop my standards
And you have shamed me, since the first time you were with her
And you cant make me, love your band or buy your records
Cause you have tainted, my respect for your adventures

And you will never have the chance to trace my features (it's kind of scary when your lover leaves you)
And you will never make me feel like such a loser (it's kind of scary when your lover leaves you)
And you can have the past 'cause I'm in love with the future (it's kind of scary when your lover leaves you)

I'm in love with the future (it's kind of scary when your lover leaves you)

And I have met a boy who makes you look so shallow (it's kind of scary when your lover leaves you) (I'm in love with the future)
And there is so much time and so much space to travel (it's kind of scary when your lover leaves you) (I'm in love with the future)
And I will make the climb and I will kiss the gravel (it's kind of scary when your lover leaves you) (I'm in love with the future)

(Touch the sky) (It's kinda scary)
And I will kiss the gravel (I'm in love with the future)

(Touch the sky) (It's kinda scary)
And I will kiss the gravel

I'll touch the sky
I'll touch the sky
Watch me, watch me
I'll touch the sky
I'll touch
The sky, the sky.