Monday, March 4, 2013


And that was the moment all hell broke loose.
And everything became pointless.
And everything she worked for became nothing.
And everything she wanted became unreachable.
She was just too short,
But she was done growing,
no matter what she did she just couldn't grow anymore.
She could reach nothing.
And from that moment onwards she saw herself as shorter than the rest of the world.
That was the moment she wanted so badly to quit.
But she couldn't.
Because there was nothing out there for someone as short as her.
No way to survive for her unless she reached it.
But no way to reach it.
No hope, with no way out.
The only way out was to end it all.
But she couldn't as long as she had him.
He was all she had.
He was all she wanted.
He was all she'd ever need.
And she would stay here,
and live in this hell,
because she hoped he'd felt the same.
And in that moment all hell broke loose.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

I'm in that place again. Where I can do nothing but feel. Feel the pain, digest it harbor it. The only thing to do that seems remotely relieving is writing about it because it's digesting me, and I need to write about it before I get so heavily churned in that I'll never come out the same person. That is, if I do come out at all.
One can think of so many analogies of pain, so many reasons to feel it, so many ways to suppress it, but when it comes to solving it, everything option seems to idealistic, too undoable. Because what does it mean to get out of depression? We all feel sad sometimes right?

I want to see the sky as blue, when it is blue, and not black throughout the day and the sun as yellow, not red and purple. I want to see a clear silhouette of the city's skyline when it isn't drowned in the rain. But to see truth is to see that there is no such thing as truth. To see undying happiness seems the same.

I don't get it, the moodiness, the anxiety over simple things like being in a cafeteria full of people, why am I so self centered that I feel they are all watching me, waiting for me to stumble and stutter, and because I'm so nervous about that, all I do is stumble and stutter and seem completely awkward when that's the last thing I want to be.

Why do we believe? What do we believe? And no matter what we believe why are there always so many flaws and contradictions? Be it religion, science, art...anything really, it's all so tangible, so alterable and shifting, and that makes it complex, and in each complexity lies so many more contradictions. It's all so surreal, because who can even tell the good from the bad anymore? It's so easy to twist things, and put them in your favor.

We rely on our memories to make judgements, decisions, accusations...but our memories are flawed. It is said we have an experiencing self and a remembering self, and we remember things, in a biased way, because we are constantly interpreting things while observing/experiencing them, so we remember our interpretations and not the truth. The truth is tangible. No one really knows it. So what are we searching for?

Saturday, December 29, 2012

As her tepid hands raced their way around the keyboard, she realized she never before had felt so emotionless. It was almost as if she was part of the machine. Part of a machine. Waning thoughts as her cheeks went cold and her eyes started to close, she wanted to sleep there forever, for what better than a dream, to help her realize that fantasy was her only reality.
And she looked around, eyes closed, felt open as she listened to them talk around her. Her family, her friends, everyone who made her, was a stranger in that moment. In the moment of conformity. As she danced and laughed and smiled, she could see herself from a distance, she could see how fake it all was.
The tears don't fall like they used to. The slit of the blade doesn't feel the same. The waning of the moon doesn't make it feel like night, because for her night's the same as day.
Monotonous, like the waves. Monotonous,like the touch of his hands. But not in the good way.
Have you ever felt so comfortable in pain? Like it was a part of you, built into your system. And crying everyday felt like nothing, and imagining the past, present and futur as one big mellow blur, was only natural, and repeating the images of pain over and over in your mind, seemed like the only thing you could do.
They hate her because she's selfish, she hates herself even more than they could ever hate her. She's a victim of her friendships, a victim of fate, and a victim of society. She hates them too, could never look a person in the eye, 'it's too scary' she would say, what if I look them in the eye and they still hate me? After looking into my soul. It's too insulting isn't it? To have someone not care about you to your very core. She hates caring so much, emotions are the last thing she wants because they destroy her, they make her so hatable, they make her gullible too, and an open book.
Waking up in the morning, passionless, reasonless, and hopeless. Every day's without a purpose. Everyday's the same loneliness.
Scared of death and scared of life. She lives in between the two scars line her insides.
No one will ever understand how bad it gets.

Monday, November 26, 2012


And you stare at it happen, as it happens right in front of you, and say no. Just, no. It can't work out like this. It's not supposed to end like this. In what kind of fucked up story does the bad guy win? In what kind of story does the victim end up in disbelief that she never got the justice she deserved.
That's when you realize you're the villain. But no, the other person's not innocent either, they're the villain too. They're worse than you, but you're still the villain, because you let it get this way. Everything's your fault.
And you hate everyone. And you hate yourself. And you hate everything. And your so filled with hate that you just want to end it all. And then you realize that if you do that, you'll be hated even more, and that realization makes you hate them more, and there's just so much fucking hate and no way to end it.
And that hate turns into sorrow and confusion and pointlessness, and it's endless really. And it's as blunt as I just put it because there's no other way to express yourself lyrically when you're that upset.
And in all the hate you feel homicidal, suicidal, maniac, and repulsive. And there's no way out. And there's no one to help you, because you're too embarrassed to share these repulsive feelings with anyone but yourself. And you're your only companion, but it doesn't matter because you're used to it being that way. And you're shaking, shivering, bawling in your loneliness, not feeling sorry for yourself like your accused of but hating yourself.
It can't be like this, the villain doesn't feel this way. But the victim doesn't hate this way. And you find the devil's in your thoughts, and you're nothing but a victim of yourself.
And the cycle of hatred... it starts again.

Monday, October 29, 2012


Lost and awake
See the stardom of fate
and the spotlight we're always in.
Worlds don't collide.
They merely pass each other by,
More than six billion
Conforming to the rebellion
Succumbing to futility
And weakness among us
The world stays strong
For weakness alone
Would be the strength of it all.
Vague misconceptions.
Parallel to the ambiguity in the heart,
and the nameless beings we follow.
For our friends and foes,
All stand alone.
And we stand alone
Breathe for the sake of it.
Dwelling in its pointlessness.
Looking at the brightest times
Only to find more sorrow.

Monday, September 17, 2012


Scarlet letters on the wall.
Mirrors on a bathroom floor.
They bring me to the place.
Where I can never find myself again.

Head cut borders,
eating straws.
Wind and snow and cold
Dark shores.
Will you be amazed?

Just looking at the way
the sun the moon the stars.
Couldn't conjure what is ours.
Even if we did exist.
Just looking at the moments
how they pass.
The pointlessness of life;
The breathing starts.
Without you again.

I shudder as
The day begins to pass
Wishing I could sleep and dream again.
Fall into inertia.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Take Me Away

Life sucked. It went in circles it made me it's bitch. I was a torn, broken, mess. and all I ever wanted to do was get away from that place, away from those people. Anywhere but the 'home' I hated.
But then I got what I wished for. And found the home was in my head. The adversity was in my head, and that's what made it a home. My home.
Have you ever been comfortably numb? Like the pain was what drove you, and the stress and anxiety was somehow cushioning, warm and familiar. Loneliness was your company, and emptiness, your hearts space.
So I came, from a home to another home, because home is where my memories are.
Circumstances don't define who we are. We can run away, change them, fight, and stand up for the people we want to be. But you can't ever run away from your problems or a bad circumstance, because you can't run away from yourself.

Saturday, September 1, 2012


Make me a sandcastle,
Don't ever burn it down.
I'll lie in the sand
And stay there if you're with me.

I just want to be concealed.
From their judging eyes.
I feel more and more beautiful
every time they call me ugly.

Bury me deep.
I swear I won't die.
I'll lay there and think.
About no future.
As we waste our lives in this game of hearts.
And run away from our favorite arms.
And wait for all the doors to close.

We'll laugh and love.
And sing out loud,
In misery.
it's all so monotonous.
Oh well.
Guess we'll just have to start again.
Till you bury me in the sandcastle.
Of the places we love to go.

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Dusty Windows

And I write.
I write when I'm so overwhelmed with thoughts and emotion.
Never before have I felt so empty. It's a really underrated feeling; emptiness. Because to be empty means to be free of expectation, and to be free of expectation means to be free of feeling dissapointed and therefore makes one free of sadness anger and all sorts of negativity.
It doesn't take anything but understanding to feel this way. Not optimism, because that's extremely misleading, but plain and simple compromise with circumstances. You can't delete pain from your life. You can't release it or replace it with anything else, or neglect it, because ignoring a problem only leads to less ability to handle it in the future. I think somewhere along the line, everyone needs to experience it, the anger, frustration and depression. It's a part of life. The only thing a person can do to help themselves and not let it take control of them, is understand what they're going through and why they do. And just like that the emotions become less intense and move on on their own.
To understand, that everyone will always think differently than the way you think they do, and that there is no way to adapt and manipulate other people's thoughts, is a great realization, because only then can one be immune to the environment. Because to everyone, it's only about them and who else can the world revolve around when we're living in our minds and thoughts? It's like a giant fantasy, so why not realize that, and live it freely?
And we can all benefit from taking life a little less seriously. Loneliness, is a myth, because we're all tied together by our incomprehensible feeling of being on the outside, looking in.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012


Let it break my heart.
I'm gone with the wind.


that their faceless beings
harbor deep within.
I'm sick of all the selfishness.


When the lights go low.
I feel my skin sink slow.
I hear the music fade.
Watch them be replaced,
with thoughts of you.
And I


Hear the bells,
down the hill,
watch them call to us.
The strong,
who think they're weak,
Which only makes them


Watch the skies,
turn to black
As the lights come on.
Artificial lights,
Like the artificial happiness
in our minds,
will never take the pain away.
And we wait,
for another day.
So we can once again be


So I follow the sound of the music,
Expecting happiness among them playing it.
And I walk down the hills to find,
They're as broken as the rest of us.
I run up the hill again
to where I began my search,
and see,
Even though nothing's changed,


Monday, June 4, 2012

Loving in a cube.

People change,
Times change,
Life changes,
And love,
It changes too.

Love goes and comes around in circles,
It's like we're loving in a sphere.
Rolling around in it's infinity.
But life's uniform, like a square.
And we're living in a cube.
So whose to say the sphere wont fit into that cube?
and that we're loving in a cube.

What's love got to do with anything in our lives?
What's friendship got to do with ourselves?
Because at the end of the day,
that's what we all are,
Every decision we make is so we can protect ourselves, feel good about ourselves, and secure that ego.
So we'll love.
So we can feel good.
And we'll make a name for ourselves through friendship,
so other people can be as obsessed with us as we are of ourselves.

What's a feeling?
What's a commitment?
What's lust?
What's respect and cherishing.
Because passion is like a circle,
but honor and trust,
it's a square.
And Love,
Love's just a word with no meaning.

So why not 'love' all you can
Till your heart is left aching?
Why not laugh, in the moment,
till you're breathless?
Why not just live free,
with or without
that 'one'?
Because he's not coming.
Not now,
Not ever.
Because he doesn't exist.
Who needs love to be happy,
when love is just a word,
but happiness,
is a feeling.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Time After Time.

Waiting for the fall out.
For you to fade away.
It's never been enough
to stay the same.
It's hard to feel rejected,
When you've never been accepted.
HA.The pain.
It feels the same.
Time after time.
Here's me,
fading to grey.
Here's me,
finding my way
Across the circle
Around the globe
With my memories rusty
and my voice astray.
Why does what hurt me,
never change?
And time after time
I notice,
that love exists.
For everyone but me.
And time after time
I find
People learn to deal with the sorrow.
Not me though.
Time after time
The world feels
Not on the inside
of this shallow brain.
Have you ever just wanted to die?

Monday, May 14, 2012

Click to enlarge image.

Monday, April 30, 2012

Chasing the Bridge that's already broken.

Don't tell me to jump.
I was already there,
Jumping for you.
Don't even tell me to Hurt.
I've been there,
Hurting for you.

It's all gone.
Thanks to you.
I can really say,
'Thank you'
Because you saved me
from my naivety.

My love,
I loved you.
I know I did.
I know
What it felt like.
And I know
It will never
be the same.

It's all numb to me now.
Heartache, and pain.
No sensation at all
But I know it's still there.
Lingering feelings of dejection
They'll come back one day.
Breathlessness, at the sight of your face.
Light headed when I
Sense your presence around
And pain.
Life longing pain,
For the life I once had,
but never really experienced.

Don't tell me to breathe,
As I mention your name.
Because all it brings to me now,
Is anxiety.
I can't breathe
With these swords through my stomach.
I can't sleep with your name in my head.
Because I still remember your name

And a love once forgotten.
But the feeling still remains.
Echoing through my brain.

You say.
And here I am again,
Flying for you.
And I find
I've lost myself
in the lifelong
quest for your approval.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Boredom fuels the most complex emotions.

When you have it all, you still can somehow feel so empty. But when you lose it all, it somehow feels like what you lost was everything you had. You feel like there are some things you need to get back just to feel full again. But how could that make you feel complete if you never were to begin with?

They say losing someone helps you realize the value of what they meant to you. That's not love. Because if you were alright before you had it, there is no reason you shouldn't be, once it's gone. What people really need to watch out for it what's always been there. What's remained unnoticed and been taken for granted. Things that you never noticed come and go, but have somehow made you feel blissfully empty.
Tragedy stricken people, don't need sympathy, at least they have a concrete reason for their sorrows, while the rest of us mask our confusion by seeking out the tragedy in our lives.

We're all so consumed with hate and misery. It's nicer like that sometimes. It's comfortable. Because when you have nothing to be, and nothing to feel, sadness does not victimize you, but accompanies you. It's a friend and it will stay that way until it thinks you're ready to handle the world without it's gratitude.

When we look in the mirror, we see what is, what was, and what could be, but completely ignore what is. We see our actions, our judgement, our lies, our arrogance and our misery. But we never really stop for a minute and realize that we're beautiful. At every moment viewed separately, and in every possible way.

Live. Because you're alive anyways. Breathe. Don't think. One day, we'll all be dead and nothing we did will ever matter. So why not live free? Why not do what you want and not worry about the consequences? We may not even be alive for them anyways. Live. In the moment.
And never for a second forget that you are beautiful.