merry christmas and happy new years again

 hello.

im not gonna make this cutesy. merry christmas. a few months from now ill look back onto the date of my journals, letters, posts from this time of year and will feel more christmas spirit than i ever did this week. anyhow.

im in a helltrip with my parents through beautiful bible belt and im not exactly having fun. we went to the aquarium and to the coca cola thing, i felt sick. ive had a piece of chicken, green juice and a slice of pizza in these three days. on christmas eve i was sure i wanted to marry him but now i am not. then again, who am i to chase bigger things? by instinct, it seems my first thought was to say that every time i have done that it has ended up wrong. the fact is i have never tried. only once or twice trying to get a new friend group. ended horribly, i still think about it, i guess you never know. maybe it was my strategy. maybe i need to plan things out better. i cant. hes good, i just feel the world is still my oyster but i know its not.

my heart has been poisoned by cynicism. its all ive ever known. i was so bitter as a child. i feel im condemned to go outside for a cigarette and get bored of nature, or draw myself a hot bath and get bored 5 minutes after the fact. i feel im doomed to always be bored and miserable. i know that after a year and change, if someone has read this far, i should have gone to a shrink or something. i wont, i cant trust these people with my secrets, i cant trust myself to tell the full truth either. i cant be fully vulnerable, not even with myself.

not even here. i have this secret i cant say because lest nobody every reads this- nobody i know- im doomed forever. about relationship thing. not the previous secret. its slipped and nobody who could hurt me with it knows besides my mother. she wants to call his mother about it. i dont know if she only hasnt done it because she doesnt have the balls to do it or because she really couldnt care less. i think she thinks i was exaggerating. again, over. i will never retrieve myself. ive always wanted this person and this person circles around me like a vulture. 

my dear mother got me a beautiful glittery shimmering fountain pen for christmas the color of caramel. its so beautiful. ive been getting into the hobby. my beautiful boyfriend got me a cigarette holder and an old case from a perfume i adore.

and i know we cant have each other even if the circumstances were right because if they were i would want them gone. i wouldnt have them touch me, at all. i just wanted to feel special again, i know that. i want to infiltrate their dreams and drive them to insanity. but my feelings are mostly pure. again, following me around and haunting me. 

i watched nosferatu today, the 1979 version of it. i was so excited about watching eggers version opening night but ill be in fuckass memphis. i cant watch it here because my stupid ass forgot my glasses. i did that on some purpose because i promised to watch it with him. i regret my decision now. poor dracula wants love. the absence of love is the most abject pain, he says. stupid mina says that only one can save himself. he is tricked and seduced by her. albeit he was already completely obsessed with her. she does this in order to keep him by his bed until the sunrises and they both fade into nothingness. not fun. ive always wanted some nosferatu film where evil reigns, on some part, where the heroine is corrupted. love is corrupting. where the virginal status of mina is exchanged, where she chooses to live deliciously, say. not like twilight. differently. i think thats what the audience wants, to see the corruption of a virgin as to feel justified in their own perversions and impurities. maybe audience is only me but still.

its such a good movie, i took a little nap and had a strange dream. its so dreary and sparkling, surreal. loved it.

i wish eternal love existed. i wish i could be romantic but how can i be when love involves such gross things. i dont want intimacy to be being able to watch each other go to the bathroom or be able to wake up next to someone with morning breath and loving them nonetheless. i want love to be all consuming, i want to be so deep in it i accidentally die of starvation. i want passion to mean skipping events to enjoy each other. why does love of all things have to be rational and tainted by ugly, disgusting life. why does one have to clip passions wings. i want to be chosen by a strange and special creature and wanted. why do i have to accept the simple and mundane.

i guess im only with him here in this weird and ugly world. in a perfect, clean world it would not be like this. of course i love him deeply, but this is not what i wanted love to be. why is everything so ugly.

at least my gpa is at 3.8 for now. something tells me next semester it will be at 4.

happy holidays

its so easy to laught, its so easy to hate.. it takes guts to be gentle and kind.. over...

 my mother and i's terrible relationship never seemed to have an actual start. i do not know who to blame for my transgressions but i learned them from somewhere. she is cold and selfish, even in her good deeds or seemingly selfless acts she finds a way to create tools for guilting, some way to make people feel like the owe her something. me, specifically. if and when she cooks for me she guilts me. when she cooks for my brother, seemingly everyday, she serves him happily. they spend peaceful time together and im stuck in my room. we cant find room for peace. my jubilee approaching and i cannot do anything about it.

she has a strange moral system. she believes anyone could point me as a bitch and her as a madonna. i want to find peace of mind but i havent known peace. my mother blamed me for her alcoholism saying that buzzing my hair at 16 put her on a downward spiral. yesterday, after a fight, i poured myself some whiskey and headed to my room to listen to music and calm myself down. my father (who wont drink, he cannot tolerate bitter flavors) came up to call me an alcoholic. 

i have never felt tenderness or love from my mother. i cant bring myself to call her cruel, but she is. she is cold hearted and blames me for the wrongs in our family. i wish she beat me senseless or was neurotic to an extent that her cruelty was tangible, but she didnt. not everyday and never to a broken bone. only when i deserved it. i used to be so small, nowadays i dont think i deserved it. but maybe i did. i was only about seven and she was thirty seven then. she calls me spoiled and a brat. i tried to kill myself when i was five. 

i want solidarity but all of my caregivers have beaten me, stabbed me in the back, raped me or abandoned me. maybe its my fault, i am the common denominator. maybe its not. maybe i attract bad people, i am sensitive. i am so sad, i feel like such a failure, i flay myself alive for the masses, i hide in my own draped skin. nothing good has lasted me enough. all bad things greet me in the mornings, cold or warm. 

i cant fix myself and i have mutilated myself horribly, this place will be the end of me and i can just hope for death to bring me back into the body of a little baby brewing in someones womb. i hope im given another chance, i dont know if i deserve one, but even then i would like it if i did. 

im upset and have to be quiet. defiance brings only violence but quiet resignation is also a fight. to her. i dont know what to do. i told her about family therapy but i dont think we can make it work. i know she would rather me never being born at all. she said that once in a drunken haze, in the kitchen when i was maybe sixteen, maybe eighteen, the years burn and blur. she forgot after and accused me of making things up. my father said hed rather me be completely normal and adjusted, even if it meant a complete tearing down of my character and self. i went to my room and cried until i vomited. maybe its my fault, but they made me. iam not to blame, i did not create myself. the things ive created, the mechanisms and programs i built from clay and spit to be kind and quiet have only been room for them to beat, hence destroy. 

i cannot be destroyed, i will always be this and i wish i could delete myself as well. degenerate, as my father called me once. then, he forgot. 

quismoix

 everything is so complicated daughters grow and mothers shrink and i have three finals. and then its christmas break. i spent all day today rearraging my room and moving my things, fantasizing about things i wanna buy. a beautiful set of headboard and nightstands, desk, a table for my bed, i would love an amazon echo. i want a big house. for chrismas, i want to be peaceful as all hell. i want one thousand dollars and a pretty new bag. maybe new glasses. im thinking about my aunt diana and my surviving grandmother. im also thinking about christmas. my favorite holiday.

im spending a ton of time with my cat. i wake up to her curled up right beside me, with her little head on my chest and her paws reaching at me. i always pet her and kiss her and cuddle her. she always finds a way to get under the bedcover with me. shes the sweetest. i love playing with her and feeding her treats and carrying her like a baby to look into her big blue eyes. like huge shiny sapphires. i adore her, shes everything to me, shes my girl little and my baby and my everything. maybe im getting fang mods. permanent. just my canines.

im mentally totally checked out of school stuff. my finals will be over soon but i could not care less at all. in my mind my month of rest and relaxation has already started. its only 4pm and its already frosty blue outside but the weather is not too cold sadly. i wish i could wear fuzzy socks and stuff but its not the weather for it. but it is quite cozy. and it looks cold enough. im thinking of clothes and victorian/edwardian whatevers.

theres not much. im get upset then i forget. it is what it is.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY VILLE VALO

 HAPPY BDAY VILLE VALO

alien observer

 ive been in the same place for a year and its been such an awful decade for me. no peace and no single not a thing at all. no creature. no nothing.

been a year since a significant moment, or group of moments in my life. i want to come back home drunk and wake up fresh, i want my parents to love me. i want to feel loved. theres nothing but resentment in this house. maybe black mold in the carpet from all the years. the black mold is the ghost of all that was. im the ghost of all that could have been. were all ghosts of the things we miss or want to have around like charms. 

love ghost stories. love nosferatu and coppolas dracula movie. i wish something far more powerful than me was enchanted and infatuated by me. wish it would pluck me away. to be defined by something so much bigger than me. i wish i could fall into a thick, slapping love. a dense, bashing delirium.

i had to redo my new industrial piercing and i think ill have to do it again. i dont want to but i will. i dont know what else. my jestrum. i want a cigarette, semesters almost over and im doing just fine. im tired and battered and i wish i could redo my teenage years, do them differently. i think ill start doing pilates. i need to take something seriously before all of my youth leaves me and i dont have neuronal elasticity. i dont relate to people. i cant connect.

soon ill get a hint.

happy bday to my septum

:3

almost a year

 not even gonna mention the elections i wanna buy a gun. anyway.

its been almost a year since i started this blog and since a lot of stuffs. its been a tough year, but im happy about the blog.

yesterday i went to a neuroscience congress to see if i like it and i didnt. too shallow. too much ai talk. not going. im going to dedicate myself to either social or clinical psychology. most likely (i do mean 99% chance) jungian psychoanalysis. ive been doing nothing at all, im nervous about my future and the future in general and everything ever.  

i dont wanna be a psychologist.

halloweek

 finally got my ears pierced- a conch on my left, a daith and tragus on my right. which i very quickly found was not a good idea for a person who wears earphones. the daith and tragus were pierced wrong so i got them done again and the former got infected. already took care of it. my hair is coming into a bob after a year of tight buzzcuts, i stretched my ears to a 6g in one go which i realized is not ideal but theyre doing quite ok. last wednesday i got fillers on my front torso to make it look more full and got my chest done in a balconette/shelf bra type thing. cobwebs. i feel very happy with them. the experience was very nice, i love my artist and im always very happy to be there. the shop itself is beautiful and the people are charming. the first time i ever went there was almost a year ago and all i want is to work there or get it to be a part of my routine.

i wanted to watch the substance and i will since i do have access to mubi and its coming out on the 31st of octuber. yesterday i went to a halloween party and did violet chachki but nobody got it so i just said i went as the undertaker. i did dark makeup, 9 inch heelsm an 18 inch corset over a little black dress, with a long black wig, floral fishnets, a big black hat with flowers and a veil. 

i have not had a meal in a while. my mom went away for vacation and my father stayed over. he have us the equivalent of 50 dollars to eat for the month. she says she wants to blow my inheritance on travel. she loves travel. she loves art and military history, european and mexican. im glad shes there. i would love to go to europe. i would love to see art again. this city has wounded me.

i dont think i would want top or bottom surgery anymore since the art and jewelry have made me acclimate in a way. not completely. some semi-drastic weight loss should take care of my chest, i could try to bind the rest into flatness but i would much rather see about the weight loss. the shape would still bother but not to a point that i couldnt live with. i would love nullification but the repercussions hormonally would probably end up making me live about 60 years less and would make me miserable. ive been thinking about plastic surgery but the jewelry has given me some sort of harshness and boldness that makes my body not comfortable but livable. i think ill keep adding rings and gems. im always feminine presenting. more than most people. life is theatre and im doing a drag number.

i felt good yesterday. i wouldve felt better if instead of nature i had prosthetics and my face was leaner and sharper, lower browbones and a slimmer structure. im fine as i am now. i feel okay now that im perfectly covered, at least where it matters. but i dont feel like people like me very much. im normal in real life, normal ish. i think im friendly. people think im scary.

RAH

 I KNOW IM ANNOYING LEAVE ME ALONE

this is my place and i can do what i want. i am not this annoying unless im drunk and feeling inferior. God!

i am not going into the woods, there is nothing there for me. Ive been studying for DAYS ive done nothing aside from writing and reading and writing and reading. Man!

Im 20! i get to be pretentious and annoying and young and stupid! i hate feeling low, alone. i hate feeling this. i know im not important and will never be. i know its a stupid pursuit. i know im not unique and i know i know i know but i hate people calling me immature. my youth was stunted then cut it half then i was violated. yes. i was, no longer am or can be. not young, not innocent, too naive, too stupid, too indulgent into myself. then it happened all over again. and i live in my past and i want to go back to my grandmas house and i can but i wont and i want to write a novel and i can but i wont and i live missing and i love missing and ten years passed me by like ten years will pass by and i am alone, knotting myself into a circle, feeling stupid, hearing people call my stupid in their heads, feeling nothing, i want to be someone. 

oct 9

schooling schooling

ive been trying to apply myself further to my studies. i think ill start working out, been a while. just a bit. hour a day, four or five days a week. working hard. every sin i fall into is just me looking for a dopamine hit and i never get any. my body will block my satisfaction, pleasure, my reward, all because of what i did to it. I wish there was someone to blame. No food, no rest, no love, no nothing. Ive been floating dreamlessly, aimlessly. No company. Im unbroken by the things that have been and could be. Im nothing. 

Autumn is hot and my parents want to go to the carolinas for christmas and i dont want to go with them. Christmas will be hot. I hate this stupid place. I keep wasting my autumns. I keep wasting my life in this stupid place. 

But ive been getting coffee outside. Cold brew, lattes, flat whites, whatever. Yesterday, i went to a local notebook shop and bought five. May get a couple more. I ran out. Theyre my favorites, good quality, good built. I bought some supplies for my notes, ive been spending time on my own, with my cat. ive been trying to put myself through the semester, studying all day. Just yesterday i took 20 pages worth of notes. Today, i will have to do about 30 more. Im tired but i need to get myself together. I wish there was more. I dont want to work out. I hate exercise. Two summers ago i did 7 hours of exercise a day and didnt lose weight. And yes i was counting my calories. My metabolism is down horrible. Theres no food at home, ive been living off bits of cheese and tortilla chips. Ill try. Ill try. Ill try. Im hungry.

hygiene

 i know i think too much about myself but there is not much out there. i think about myself and the nature of things. i dont want to decipher anything because i know that if i wanted to id die disappointed. i think about the whole world. i think about the whole world and how the world works, i try to draw parallels, i try to read and write enough to come up with something, then i shower and moisturize my skin, i plan my schedule for the weekend, i compose my music. i got rid of my acrylics and im playing the guitar. i wonder why im miserable and think of the drinks i will have this weekend. i throw them all back up anyway. im not hungry. i havent eaten in days. my stomach tattoos are doing well and my father wants me to remove all of them. i wont. i got my below the belts done. now i have five. thinking of the consequences of starting my ear setup and thinking of psychology. built a new chart that makes, to me, more complete sense than maslows nonsense. here it goes.

    Hierarchy of Needs … La Pirámide González-Medina

BÁSICOS SUPERVIVENCIA I

Aire, comida, agua, sueño, protección de los elementos

La higiene dentro de la base

función básica corporal 

 Conocimiento que la base es constante 

2.  BÁSICOS SUPERVIVENCIA II

habilidad corporal (capacidad física en cuanto a movimiento, integridad corporal, estabilidad corporal) 

salud general (acceso a variedad de comida, descanso, nutrientes, movilidad, exposición correcta a los exteriores, hidratación y nutrición propia y prolongada)

salud mental (sentimiento de autonomía, percepción fiel, motivación intrínseca, capacidad y habilidad mental/intelectual)

3. BÁSICOS ESTABILIDAD MENTAL I

algún tipo de compañía (no hay aislación)

capacidad de comunicación 

habilidad de descansar y tiempo libre prolongado 

autonomía corporal básica

esperanza

4. BÁSICOS ESTABILIDAD MENTAL II

afiliación y conexión (familiar, amistad)

posibilidad de desahogo emocional (conversacional u otros)

novedad y variedad

hogar propio

control (capacidad de obtener placer)

tener intereses posibles de actualizar

privacidad 

autonomía corporal

5. BÁSICOS DE ESTABILIDAD FÍSICA I

ejercicio propio y rutinario

sueño propio y rutinario 

dieta óptima (cubre necesidades básicas)

higiene propia

6. BÁSICOS DE ESTABILIDAD MENTAL III

conexiones interpersonales profundas/capacidad de relacionarse

propiedad y derecho exclusivo sobre objetos

funciones sexuales básicas (no necesariamente relaciones sexuales interpersonales (masturbación))

autoestima estable

7. AFILIACIÓN E IDENTIDAD

sentimiento de comunidad y pertenencia dentro de una/la comunidad

sentimiento de compañía (relativamente) constante 

sentimiento de identidad individual

relaciones sexuales humano-humano

8. AFILIACIÓN E IDENTIDAD II / TRASCENDENCIA I

sentimiento de competencia

sentimiento de logros

sentimiento de tener impacto/legado

sentimiento de importancia

estabilidad a largo plazo

capacidad de introspección

sentimiento de moralidad y capacidad de ejecutarlo 

9. TRASCENDENCIA II

relaciones y afiliaciones románticas/sexuales estables a largo plazo

conexiones interpersonales profundas/capacidad de relacionarse a largo plazo

círculo social cerrado y organizado estable

sentimiento de ser admirado 

-

i feel that in psychology i have no place. it does not comfort me, i didnt expect it to but i didnt expect it to make me feel more in vain. whatever. i wish i had it in me to be a hedonist but i carry shame and guilt everywhere and have done so since i developed the ability to store memory. what do they know. then again im young and so, so stupid. so stupid. itll pass. i think. everyone says so but i dont think they know exactly what theyre talking about it. maybe i am a fringe case. 

been thinking what else i wanna get done. theres a space right above my swords and right below my breasts, some good real estate. about an inch or two. been thinking on how to fill that out.  been thinking about how much i like living. tenderness and sweetness. also how much i hate things in general. been losing my faith. been thinking about how everything is meaningless, absurd and inconsequential but the suffering that comes from that is real, although it is also meaningless, absurd and inconsequential. and though there is no cure for the suffering, beauty and its pursuit can easily help with coping. and beauty is also meaningless and futile, but suffering feels bad, and the least we can do as hostages is try to not suffer. even if it doesnt mean anything. not everything has to have a meaning. its not about why. if i asked God, he would say why not. things are things and as they are, me and you and everyone were made at the beginning and though our consciousness is cruel and stupid our physical bodies and the energy that flows through and about us will continue without our brain function long after we go, as they did long before we came. how horrible. im not half as intellectual or smart or interesting or deep as id like to be but its stupid to want to be any of that. im a self pitying mess who isnt particularly good at anything nor particularly interesting. i do this, write, to make sense of myself so that i can untangle my mind and walk through it. i want to be free from my brain and scatter my ashes around the world and become nothing so i dont want anything anymore, so that if i was resurrected i would know not to want life and not want anything. and id be walking and resting at the same time. or just die eternally. if i go, do i have to come back? i hope hell is a stupid idea. 

oh, ill be free

 i cant hate him but i also think half of my issues about maternity, parenthood and marriage stem from my asexuality and agender identity. 

i canr bring myself to not think its all a sick trap. if they wanted to put a child into me i would fish it out with my hand and crumble its flesh and slurp the blood and liquid off its body, feel as it runs down my chin much like fruit. i would rub it into the gums and teeth of whoever dared challenge me. i would crush the bones between my mollars and sleep on them.

his presence is a haunting presence in my life, so beautiful and rose. i want to be beautiful, i want to fall back and melt into something. i always wanted him to melt onto my feet, hold my calves with bloodied hands and kiss the curve of my feet. kick him off. let him fall back and melt into my chest and clavicles.  i wanted to press on his throat with my fingers. never lay by his side. keep distance. prod. jab, dig.

i hit myself over the counter in my dreams and set fire to the house much as i did in the very first dream i ever remembered. i remember what i was told. my mother who half hates me. my brother, who i love, mommy's little boy, adult and cradled over her side as she berates me. she has a good reason to, ive been nothing but a bothersome bitch. i know that. but so has she. she says i learned my temper from my father, i say i am what she doesnt want to be seen as but ultimately is. everything i do and did. shes done and will do. blood on my robes. i take myself out of the country and drive for miles blasting my rock music, cigarette out the window, sunglasses half covering my face, all i am is what she maybe couldve done, opposite, shes so simple, im something else. 

you or someone else, i am still right here.

i am a narcissist, i am obsessed with my inner world, ive spent my years alone, this is where i go. but ive never tried to use it against others, my misery. only knit the word over and over, knot it into itself to keep myself warm from the cold of the situation. how relieving it is to have a word for it. how i love people. i wake up in a hospital bed and dont even try to fight it. i wake up and the world never stopped, i dont want to play catch-up anymore, i simply want to wake up screaming and then back to sleep, the beat of the machine.

weaknesses are literary creations

 

i remember watching the first season of emily in paris when it came out. me and my mom ordered soup from a restaurant. i was studying for an exam, probably math. futile since i failed a couple semesters later due to being absent for half the cycle. health issues as you may be able to guess. i had a good time. i love my mom. i love her so much. i love how silly she can be, how light, her smile, i love her. she is not the most comforting person ever and she has a hard time not making mistakes in regards to emotional intelligence- concepts such as empathy and whatnot. anyhow, emily in paris. my head hurt so much. i think i had corn or broccoli soup in a bread bowl. or maybe not the bread bowl. im thinking they forgot it. 

quarantine was a very peaceful time for me. i was very tranquil, very serene. i met my best friend during quarantine. i walked around lots around the neighborhood. up and down. thats how we met. i sometimes waited outside his house to see if he came out. i didnt have his number then. thats around when i met the rest of the kids my age around the block. we spent the entire summer doing whatever. nothing at all. we didnt drink, we didnt party, we simply enjoyed each others company and hung out at the park, each others houses. i never liked bringing people over to my house. 

all my friends want to be accountants and programmers and consultants. or engineers. damn me. ¿why must i be so childish? i cant hear the word "sex" without flinching, heart in my mouth. i do not remember who did this to me that first time but i do know who did it last time. 

i brought people to my house last saturday. there was a shooting right after dinner. i got my stomach pieces done that day and my friends were out to dinner, celebrating a birthday. as i was getting tattooed, i heard of some shootings going on nearby towns. i didnt think theyd be here, i felt uneasy. when i got out, i felt a strange vibe soaking the air. i went home alone and waited. my boyfriend was going to host an afterparty, we finished earlier than i thought. i showered, took a nap, and got ready. thats when one of my friends announced about a shooting going on outside their neighborhood. the navy was brought in. thats the kind of violence around here. during summer school, they killed a couple. right outside my campus, 30 minutes after i was right there driving back home. them and eight more people just that day. 

my friends came by to wait for things to cool down. i shot tequila and lime. i cried during independence day. i love my country, i curse these people. 

its so scary how they permeate my world, an open secret. people you know will die over whatever, you cant look into it, cant look it in the eyes too long, have to keep your head low. everyone. its a very unique experience. its the big mens currency. its everywhere. i keep my head low and try not to go out too much. i try to hang at the underworld, i dream of walking the streets of new york, half drunk, i dream of doing burlesque and kicking with drag queens, gay clubs, the underworld. ¿what does heroin smell like?

i dont want to be innocent. innocent is bound to be ripped, scalped right off you. i dont want it back only to get skinned for it again. but i do want to have simple fun, lay. flirt and be fun. what is it. i went out for coffee two weeks ago, it was rainy and beautiful. havent stopped thinking about it. i ordered a hot black coffee and they gave me an iced latte, it was delightful. 

paralyzed

 no matter what i do i feel like im being childish and futile. my desire to paint is childish, my opera persuits are chidlish, my musical persuits are childish, my all of it.

i went out today for coffee and fought with my mom. studied for an exam. nothing else.

goodbye

goodbye 19, goodbye -teen, goodbye. ten to nineteen. the most extravagantly violent changes of the winds tide in this second decade, over now. good bye, good bye. miserable birthday, miserable wrench fixing the clock and making it run, misery of coming of age. i feel like im moving from my childhood home, i feel transfixed. i will spend the rest of my mobile years depicting that decade of my life into art, longing for another shot at redemption, fantasies of forgiveness and innocence restores by the grace and virtue of forgetting, blotting out completely. i started feeling so empty, every wish unfulfilled, every expectations wasted, dreams wasted, summers wasted, never being what i wanted, i never was, so many years wasting away and away, feeling sorry, swallowed by guilt and pity. it is the way things were supposed to go, cruel God made us age, no sin justifies the horrors of aging away into incompetence, ugliness, unglamour, unbeauty, uncognition. nothing i can get will justify the loss of my teenage years, my early adulthood, i will spend time and resources trying to figure out a way to cope.

happy birthday to me.

principle of death

if youre reading this and know me personally stop reading now

-

the genital piercings are doing just fine, perfectly good, might get another one, im thinking anywhere from two to four more. tomorrow im getting my other nipple pierced. i got nose stud. getting my back piece finished by october. been wearing lipstick and satin robes around the house, pearls. been trying my best to feel not normal but extravagant, lascivious. met some friends at school.

my father saw my tattoos and ive being getting got for the past week but we did get to see the new alien movie yesterday. i think things are getting better.

today marks the anniversary of the event ive been being dragged by. this weekend was not very nice. aside from that. i got violently, violently sick and i was not able to go out. i stayed in. hated it.

been feeling horrible, want to peel myself off the face of the earth, this disgusting, uncomfortable dimension. unfathomably ugly.

theres a bug infestation in my closet and around my room. nothing feels right.

today it is his birthday and i dont feel like i love him enough, i dont at all, i feel cold and frigid, i dont want to be but i just am, im hungry, i have not eaten, i want to go home and rest some, i dont want to know anything about anyone. i feel wrong, i feel stupid. i feel impotent and unworthy. i see myself as so unerotic, so deeply wrong and unsettling, like people can smell my bashed purity and my brokeness, my lack of faith and my lack of humanity. i think theres something deeply wrong with me, everywhere i look inside of me is black lungs and rotted, bleeding viscera.

im falling into myself. my desire to annihilate myself and my lack of action weighs on me like nothing else can. i want to erase myself from the world so that everyone forgets me and i take all my things with me, and my room merges with my brothers and my spot in everyones lives is not replaced but blotted out.

i wish we all died. i wish in my next life im a little kitten, i wish we could all be little kittens and pile on each other because were so small and soft and warm and fuzzy. i long for a softer life.

 

melancholy / melody noir / abrázame muy fuerte amor, mantenme así a tu lado

 i miss my best friend- i had not seen him in so long by the time he left the city. not too long ago, but the last time is saw him was only a couple weeks ago. he is a ghost to me now, im sure were ghotsts to each other. sweet, soft memories of pandemic summer. my breezing moon. i wrote a poem about him so long ago. 

he told me that when i got sick he did not know how to be there so he started wearing thumb rings as i used to, and so i now wear mine again in rememberance of him. still there but barely talking. 

such a soft, gentle figure i feared had forgotten about me. i feared that meeting again would be like meeting a stranger. it was not but it was too late. it was the day he told me he would leave, just a week and a half after our first rendevouz.

i listened to california by lana del rey over and over the night he left, i could not see him because he was busy packing. but that last night we spent together we danced and sang and he were in a point of collision so strong, so powerful i thought for a second we could have merged into something permanent. i think we did. i remember him fondly now, everytime i listen to juan gabriels abrazame muy fuerte, every time i pass my his house on my way out of the neighborhood, everytime. i wrote him a poem long ago, when we turned 19. i never showed it to him, i felt we had driften and just thinking about it made me sick.

we could have done it all a thousand times over if i had been just a little more lenient, if i wasnt so afraid. i am so afraid all the time. it keeps me ridden.

im wallowing in the embrace of a friend who has gone, who i hope can stay in touch. i want to stay in touch everyday. in a different life hed be my wife, i told him, id be his man. 

i dont know where to start even, i dont know how to end. i dont know anything im simply trying to defy the odds by letting the soft, sweet melancholy fill my heart and maybe bloom into a run, a run all the way to guadalajara, a run so powerful itll shoot me to the sun and back into the park, the old playset, where we listened to music and spent our time. 

he and i were so parallel all the time, still are, listening to the same music, going through the same motions. i feel we dont even exist. if at death we are categorized by place of inception, we will meet again there. we will meet in september, ill wait home to see him in the holidays, ill be home for the summer. i miss everyone i ever met but i miss him specifically, my soul mate, my lost sibling.

new life breathing through me and i try not to breathe out again. im unrapping my arms in soft winter snow, im missing him so bad, im letting myself take blame for the deficit, im reaching my arms into the stars hoping for him to send back the rest of the lullaby.

till we ride again

leonor dances on in her deep grave

 the ballad of the dead- us who quarrel with God end up in his collection of white sheet ghosts, a black sun rises over the tar river, as for us- we are passed along the chain like pearls, pierced and sown into a string.

he and i dance lowly on the constant pound of the black hearted, molded and corroded, real love into black lung. the beating of bloodied fists over a bulged bag of waxed pelt, bones to dust, hanging by hooks from the back to the ceiling, the bricks are stones and the floor is blood and fat tissue glimmer.

i run the flat of my hand over his sunken face once every million years, we hook our limbs into knots to avoid the punishment of God, if beauty was ravaged, the dermis pulled into the small abyss of his young deliverance, bloated lips of an inflamed lover, purple as rolling sea over and stretched at thin skin, holding on to each other by nails and into a braid of bodies to be pulled apart by the winds of the helvete- of hades, a rushing of tempest so strong it separates the skin from the flesh. the limbs pull apart and the bone reveals itself into a tease, reveals her ivory leg as the expectator screeches out a cry glee. we exchange a single quiet mutter of love in every meeting, as if revealing secret passions to call the day we were damned, a single year in tartarus equivalent to 10^30 years.

visit me tonight, visit in my sleeping cold; rocking on

 i keep having these visions. i make the most of it. i think, they feel, like memories. i dont understand. i come and go, in my dreams he walks out of his mangled corpse and into my space, he reaches into me through my air- i dont walk into it. he steps through and i feel his hair brush my cheekbone. standing before me with his collarbone exposed and its warm as if he had never gone from me. the void in my heart is filled and i prosper and relax my shoulders into his hands that wont touch me. looks at me in the eyes. and he was as familiar as a distant memory from another world. so as i try to conjure my voice i wake up into this place and i feel empty. and then i see him again and its not a lucid dream by any means.

aire soy. when i was a child i stayed over at my cousins house to sleep, to take care of my brother. they were close friends and i was the oldest and only girl. i stayed in a separate, moth bitten and dusted room. i found an old cd player and, in the earliest hours of the next day, fingered the numbers, the little disc on it, twirling the buglike antenna sprouting from it like a thin spore, looking for a sound. and it arrived into my quiet room, lit by two lights, both warm as a candle but one twitching. it was the most beautiful melody i had ever found, so i scrambled to look for a pen and paper to jot down the lyrics, or what i could make out through the fuzzy veil of the static. and i did. i went home and looked for variations of the lyrics on my family computer until i found it and it quickly became a staple in me, a nickel inside of the fountain of my mind, my ether.

im lost in an endless void, floating through airless space, a speck of dust in that old room i havent been in for years, after looking again a couple of times the cd player had gone. disappeared into the fabric of the space and time vortex that made up that world. everything else, exactly as i had left it. the bed made in the particular way i made them, with a flap on the top and the pillows fluffed over. the twitching lightbulb now completely null. the cd player was gone. 

i dont think he is real, i think he was years ago. i feel like it was someplace thirty years ago. maybe more. they mentioned it in my music academy- i was born to be there, sing for them, not for whoever could catch a slight resonance of my echoing growl.

he ran his cold fist by my back, upward over my neck, through throat. sunken eyes like hot stones at a rocky beach. the ends of that hair fine as mold fuzz. floated like linen, hover the wind.

i call for him to be back, listen to his voice. listen to his advice, to what he remembers i am, to what he knows of me so maybe i can make a return into that innocence. i dont think i can. i think innocence is not lost but broken, or stolen and destroyed by a lack of knowledge on the care of such particularly delicate creature.

does he remember me? or do i see the vision of my own memory, an ancient language we shared but has now been forgotten to time by all but me, for death parted him from it and now i am the sole archivist, the lonely, mistress of our wuthering heights awaiting a ghost, the last botanist that knows about the correct care of the plants in this secret garden, where i buried my old love under an ancient strain of willow tree, under a strange valley flower the color of powder.

his name i barely know but its somewhere, an angel who keeps from me any power i could hold. to guide me and mock me. for now he and i keep rocking on, in the ballroom of my mind, or otherwise, old love, dear dead dove- may you not rest as long as i am living. you said i killed you- haunt me then. the murdered do haunt their murderers. i believe i know that ghosts have wandered the earth. be with me always, take any form, drive me mad. only do not leave me in this abyss, where i cannot find you, oh, God! It has been unutterable- i cannot live without my life, i cannot live without my soul.

beauty 1

 i only ever wanted to be beautiful, i was always so offputting and disgusting. my body is fleshy and my face is melted butter and spots. i hated it here, i hate it, always will. i wish i was beautiful. i feel like i have failed to create a home for myself. it is me who doesnt have a place, my pudgy limbs and soft torso.

oh GODDD

 anxiety about my boyfriends impending doom in a horrid plane crash is going to kill me. or him dying in spain of all fucking things. i miss him already. all of my friends are gone and i am at home decaying slowly. oh God oh fuck. Jesus Christ.

i am working on my next project- it will be called dirges for the living or something very similar. it will be a small meditation on the acceptance of death, specifically my cats. im done with one, just missing a rerecording of vocals and final mixing. 

i feel so upset and sick. there is no food in my house and i might kind of start tweaking. 

mother

 i have come to hate you, despise you, loathe the way you move through the world and raise yourself. you have made me unbearable, made me unlovable, made me afraid of my own shadow- afraid to love. you blame me for my miseducation yet prove over and over that the cold stone fist on which you raised me is still vigilant and ready to strike at my face and ribs. you show me, when i show you a wound and beg for nursing, that the cruel woman i came to fear in my childhood is still alive and well, waiting to pounce at me when look for my mother.

your bravado is your aura, your sad state of being. mother, how i have come to despise myself through you. standing up straight, practicing dinner etiquette, closing my mouth and legs, drinking my own monthly blood so it wont exist outside my body in the world i share with every other person. we have never been too much alike, but to me it has always seemed like you have cornered me into your cruelty, becoming into an aching freak like you have.

always a strain in your conversation, never a warm hug, never held, never wanted me to take a spot near you, always wanted to elevate me by throwing me into the ether and never being there to break my fall.

how can you be such a bitch, how can you not admit to failing.

laura palmers theme

 yesterday i went to the gyno and had a terrible experience- i would have rathered a slow death. the iud will be inserted at the end of the month, i thoughtlessly fought with my boyfriend then took him to get ice cream in some other town as an apology, we went to his home and we made up and then we saw friends. today i might do something stupid. my parents have not seen my tongue piercing. i think it turned a momth old yesterday. healed beautifully. i want an industrial and a garter belt tattoo next. and finish up my backpiece and sternum. 

i am as of now beating my anxious rattling by dying my roots. just got my brows done. (stop reading now if you know me) will be getting a vch and hch in five days. for gender affirming reasons, quietly. hope they dont hurt too badly. microblading soon. i want to start botox.

i want to be free. i drink too much when i do drink. twice a week at most.

im so tired of thinking of perfect things and not writing them down. im so tired of having to fight my battles in silence, only ever grunting as the air is pushed out of my lungs by a dry, cold fist.

child

again i come here,

in fear of outing myself i might just speak freely and in half abstracted prose- i have encountered a face that i recognize as a mother and an abuser, a face to face to face me over my sleeping body and i cannot ignore it, her voice spoke years back at me and barked years ago with me and now i see her face not through the thin skin of my curtainous lids but right through the sheen of my teary, burning eyes. i have awoken to find her telling me i may not be who i have been trying to be, she says this to me often in my dreams.

you have mutilated yourself over and over, let some man take you as wife over and over, she says, you are asleep for now, dearest, but in your sleep your chest is a cavity and your vulva is a mound of pale skin as white as your belly. you harbor no life, barren thing. to you, new life is a condemnation of the gifter and the giftee.

your hot mouth is cold and you are corpselike and in some wicked sense, dead already. from your sleep. when you breathe awake you will die.

i dream of a penthouse in a windy city and versailles and bowie, a love so deep it aches and pulls my spine into the earth. i am in opium amber oriental sunset delta of venus hazed seventies. i speak to my mother and father, my sisters in arms, i tell them love is cheap and vulgar. what i want, what visits me in dreams, a half man pearlescent that holds my face over me and utters. sings, a lamp, graceful, wont touch me in ways that i find repulsive and could never be seen, by anybody, as depraved. curls deep chocolate and lashes like spiders legs, nails long. fractured the sides of my swollen skull with his frosted lips, caressed the edges of my hair with the tips of his fingers.

and who am i then, dearest.

no, no. i am no woman. never was.

i tried to break up with my boyfriend in sadness and fear he might strike and i will get an iud implanted. im a virgin and have not felt any sensation of that sort. i dont touch and i ignore its there, its a road near my house that i think only leads to suffering. im scared but im more scared of man. 

PORNOGRAPHY: MEN POSSESSING WOMEN by ANDREA DWORKIN

 

Self is incrementally expanded as the parasite drains self from those not entitled to it. To him it is given, by faith and action, from birth. To her it is denied, by faith and action, from birth. His is never big enough; hers is always too big, however small. As a child, the first self he drains is that of his mother—whatever she has of it is reserved for him. He feeds off her labor and her qualities. He uses them up. She is devoted, more or less; but the more is as much insult as the less; and nothing is ever enough unless it has been too much; all of this regardless of what or how much it has actually been. As the boy matures, he is encouraged to make the treacherous and apparently devastating ‘‘normal adjustment,” that is, to transfer his parasitism of the mother to other females, who have more succulent selves to which they are not entitled. In the course of his life, he reenacts this grand transition as often as he wishes. He finds the qualities and services he needs and he takes them. Especially he uses women, as Virginia Woolf described in A Room of One's Own, to enlarge himself. He is always in a panic, never large enough. But still, his self is immutable however much he may fear its ebbing away, because he keeps taking, and it is taking that is his immutable right and his immutable self. Even when he is obsessed with his need to be more and to have more, he is convinced of his right to be and to have.

brims of sanity, been doing this too long

Longing for France or Norway, longing for something to do, someplace to survive. I feel a longing like a hook through the skin of my back, the skin of my waist, dragging me up through the roof and dragging my feet like a paintbrush. I was once ignorant towards life in general I had no interest in Spain or in the greater world and when I saw it i became mesmerized by the clear flow of the air, the cold gushing wind, the lush of each small fraction. It is so far from me, and yet here it is. I feel so alone but I wish to be alone. I wish my family decided to stay in Japan and I could live freely in the house instead of just my bed, my room. I dont have enough money for coffee shops, and there is nowhere to be and nothing to do in the afternoons. Head hurts, stomach churns, all is lost if i let my eyes look. If i climb to the window through my bondaged arms and legs and I peek through the pane i see nothing but a black, deep void that holds no light, no sound. I am better off in this little cabin, locked inside and tied into a knot.  

im in so much pain, the earth is heavy and my mind is full of sore joints and muscles so withered, withered to the point of risking the flesh falling clean off the bones if i moved an inch. 

i cannot think anymore, i cannot breathe. i am alone in the world and i cant sit and analyze even if i wanted. i wish i was less cruel but i cant be and i am in such a lack of love and care i feel so abandoned. i wish i could run and hide but i cant. im so hungry for something. i feel so sad and alone. 

spread HATE and MISERY

 haii ..

God, its been ok. got my tongue pierced and my other foot done. trad cobweb and born to die right under it. a 536 at the center of the other one. looks fine. healing as one would expect. hurts like hell. but i can talk fine now and eat semi solid foods. canned chicken soup and whatnot. with bits of vegetables and like five bits of some limp pasta. had not had pasta in ages. digested it just fine. whatever. things may be looking up. got some vintage jewelry for a total of what 45 usd the other day. two rings, two big necklaces. i think. feel weird, prayed over them and sprayed some holy water.

in a deep cloud of unflinching misery, listening to post punk and dsbm this summer. wont even try to fool myself into feeling fine by listening to solar power or whatever. wa t a place to find rest but i wont. summer school is not extremely grueling but i AM home alone and im an extremely paranoid person. im afraid i might be developing some type of schizophrenic disorder but i dont think so. my visions are prophetic and i do think i have a stronger spiritual drive than most people. the shapes i do see make sense in context and i dont hear voices. i only ever talk to myself. but if my visions are not in fact an angel sending me messages then i might be cooked.

its not been too bad. im trying to listen to more music akin to waht im doing and solidifying my own personal sound. someone i dont know found my ep and liked it enough to buy it and donate one additional dollar. yay!

ill be twenty years old soon. GGOOOODODD!!!!!!!!!!!JRWAFDOKSMJC LGK

and its been ok honestly. dont love my classes and clasmates, dont like coming to this specific university mostly out of a deep feeling of disconnect, a bit more literal than before. in my other university this feeling of disconnect and hollowness was a bit broader and hit deeper. people here are just right winged. which is to say RDED .

ill be ok.

mosquito

 i am attending summer school. free of charge. yay! kinda sucks. have to get up 6 am ish to get here at 8.30.

im thinking of my album and feeling unproductive. ive bitten my nails to stumps again. i feel weird. i want new friends. i feel lonely. im getting a tongue piercing this saturday because my parents will leave for a 10 day long trip. and it should be fun. painful as hell probably. if they dont see it ill be fine. its going to be quite small so whatevsies. not looking forward to the healing or the taste of blood. hope it doesnt hurt much. im going to a professional.

i want to see people. i need a party. drink a bit go a bit stupid. im tired. my digestions doing better but still needs some more time. i think. i hope. 

third day of summer school, supposed to end around maybe the 28th, i hope life gets easier. ive been sad lately, more existencial dread than anything. the feeling of time clipping forward and whatever. or that april was a million years ago. i need to be put down like a dog. 

its been such a strange lapse of time these days i feel like i want do do more with my life but i feel i cant really. the elections were not so long ago and i live in a red city. everyones pissed. i hate it here. if im outed as a communist i will probably be executed or something. i hope i make it. im allergic. OOHHH. i might not be cisgender. i dont fit here. i feel like im putting on a costume and putting on a show. i am going to ignore this information further.

im afraid i might be schizophrenic of schizoid ish. but because i consider this information i think im psyop-ing myself. maybe not. uh oh!

bloodclots

in all honesty i fell into a spiral of functional alcoholism just like my mother after a traumatic event in august from last year that ended in a rock bottom in april and i have ceased since. im ashamed of myself and nobody is on my side. they dont understand it and wont. i have no family. i have no one to call when i feel like carving a knife into my chest, i dont like my position in life. i am not fine. i am heavily suicidal and im not happy in my relationship. i never have been. it started out of an impulse and i never liked it. i hurt everyone. everything i touch turns to shit. i have nobody on my side and i throw up at least once a week from how upset i get. im so tired of living and im so scared of suicide. i doubt the existence of God. i doubt the goodness of God. i am sure that love is not real. i am not in love and i love scarcely. im in pain. i need to purge every last bit of acid in my stomach. i need to pour out my viscera and be clean. the city is hot and dense. nothing makes it better. im scared and unsatisfied. 

uh oh

 oh God its over i wont have a career ive fucked everything up i feel horrible. been watching live concerts lately very good and im also going insane my skin is breaking out my medicine isnt responding anymore and i want to break up with everything and live inside a fantasy world in my head. sperm is such a weird concept its so many half people all could be a different life and one could be cruel and the other could save the world with love but just how different could each one be if they are all still cursed with the same mother and father. are they or are theyre not individual chances at individual persons do they only have the possibility to exist with men and be punished and have to bear the condemnation of their parents. is each of them a different little half child or are all of them going to end up exactly the same do they all share the same soul that was concieved through the suffering and the nurturing of the bloodline. like a womans eggs that have existed since her own mother was alive. if my mother didnt have me but instead someone else, it would still be me wouldnt it. it was predestined before anything ever happened. and in simpler terms i have started existing when they first laid a finger on her and when she first felt shame. and so wouldve any one of the eggs that made it through. theres no use in wishing i was never born because there is no running when the soul has been brewing for a trillion years of punishment and sacrifice. life is a trap and any of the eggs i have in my body now are already suffering shakes and if any of them became a person no matter what they have seen what ive seen been violated like i was been disturbed and picked and abused like i was and how my mother was before me. and if my eggs were used and implanted on another woman maybe the crib of her womb would neutralize it and the love of its parents would change things but the blood is cursed even if the flesh is not but maybe it would be different. in a hand you could hold a billiom possibilities for a man or a woman but its the same soul that is going to be pulled from the sky and forced into a body. but aside from that i think you could like pick out any sperm from a certain man and any egg from a certain woman and the child would be exactly the same. join me in death...}

carries name necklace, natasha

i dont want to talkl about it much but ive been thinking about two thingies in sex and the city.

obviously the character carrie is quite annoying and immature, and cruel at times. but her entire feud about natasha strikes such a chord with me. i always thought it was a class thing mostly. natasha was born to old money and carrie came from little. the way they dress; natasha is towering, beautiful and classy, per se. her clothes are simple and neutral. carries are, well. theyre carries. shes always been known for that very young, very extravagant, fearless fashion. 

i relate to carrie in that sense, i feel too young and too out there sometimes. i feel like a clown. i feel ridiculous besides the girls in my university. powerless. theyre clean and i have a grown out buzzcut and wear ugly clothes. my stacks on stacks of rings and necklaces and bracelets im tattooed all over etc. these girls look clean and quiet. their hair is shiny and long. their skins are clear. 

it breaks my heart seeing carrie try to tower over natasha, when its just not in her to sacrifice her sense of style. she cant wear the white cami and the whatever. she cant be as beautiful. she cant. she meets her in a tiny crop top and a cowboy hat while natasha was wearing a simple white slip. 

i think of carries name necklace. this scene where carrie is in paris and tries to sacrifice herself for this new, clean metamorphosis. she finds her carrie necklace, a staple of her immature, "trashy" (PER SE!) style in a hole in her dior bag. she remembers who she is and she runs back. new york carrie bursts through her and its very beautiful. 

i had a moment like that. ive been having it. whatever.

suicide tonight or something. not really.

 God im so stupid.

i dont know why i keep feeling ike such a failure- im so stuck in the same cycle. im so stuck. i dont even want to see this weekend. im going to see friends. today, i saw my boyfriend and we had fun and i saw friends who i love with all of my heart and i had fun but i always feel so empty inside i dont know what it is. 

im so thankful for them, thats the thing. every therapist i ever talked to spoke about being thankful. but i am thankful. i just wish i could really enjoy the things i have fully. that makes sense, no? i know i have things i just wish i could enjoy them. i am thankful i have them but im just as upset as i was when i had nothing. 

it never feels too wrong when its happening. thats only because im good at suppressing the feeling while its going on. if i didnt, i would get violent. its not because it feels good. not because of anything. i dont know who im trying to convince. i just want him to know the truth of my spirit. i dont deceive him. i feel so small on his side. i feel so small and pathetic on his side and i know its the womans role within a realtionship but i already feel so small and so pathetic and so useless. i could be of use here. it is my biggest void and biggest point of guilt, biggest point of disgust and hysteria. i just dont want him to feel unwanted or unloved or lied to but i also dont want him to think im verbally lying to him and that my struggles are made up. it feels bad after. it does. what was i built for? i want to be in my room all day, i want to never leave a bed. and i keep picking at my eyelashes. im simply not there anywhere. at least he doesnt realize the extent of anything. nobody seems to. i would die for anyone.

i hope, i hope, i hope i make it. i hope i go to college. i cant work hard anymore.

i do love him so much, i love everyone. i wish i could nurture kindness. i need to go to confession. im too depraved, too sad, too lazy.

rainbow bridge

 

im so upset. so many mentions of cats dying. saw a post on an online forum i just read on. whatever. ill post screenshots.

im doing horrible and the world is so cruel and brutal i want to die tonight i cannot do this anymore. this is such a cruel world and i cant fathom another day. i cant pull through another day. i cant pull through another day. im so upset right now. im so upset. nothing matters. whimsy is a fantasy. frivolous things that make me happy are pathetic. i want to die. nothing matters. all that exists is suffering.

the only reason nice things exist in the world is for the world to rip them from you. i will never be happy because the world is cruel and horrible. i am shaking uncontrollably and i wish i was never born at all. why cant we all be happy and thats that. why do i have to see all of that that i love die in my arms someday. im so upset. i wish i was never born because i have done nothing good with my life and all life is meaningless and my spot on earth is stupid and everything is stupid and the world is full of bad intentions and it has bad intentions when it gifts you something i hate everything i love everything i hate everything nothing matters all that exists is suffering.

watching nothing doing it all

 i feel watched but not much more than i already did. I simply feel like an eye has been added to Gods eternal head. 

these weeks i let my acrylics break and i peeled them off bleeding in order to play the guitar. ive been playing my instruments everyday, drawing less-. i do miss my long red stiletto nails.

been doing not much at all but stressing over school- it might be completely over and my heart is still broken over everything. 

ive been thinking of

its like i let Him do anything to me with the hopes that Hell talk to me but He doesnt talk to me and still does anything He wants. because He always does. and i cant feel loved with these kinds of punishments. i dont want that. i dont want to feel so sick anymore or anything. i want life to feel beautiful. GOD PLEASE LET ME GET WHAT I WANT. GOD LISTEN TO ME! I DO WHAT I MUST! this song from the opera tosca- vissi d'arte! me!

i feel ashamed of my constant behavior. i feel so starved of conversation. real human conversation where its not me trying to convince someone im not insane.

i got more crosses on my back. i dont think i mentioned that. i dont think i mentioned the ankh on my leg either. i got it for the hunger by david bowie. blackout. and i got a bunch of beautiful crosses over my back. im getting more soon. i got some stars on my stomach for bowie as well. and i was always a star girl. never much of a heart girl. mostly 5 point stars. 

dont feel like i deserve my boyfriend. hes kind. but God does he annoy me sometimes. its who he is. very rational. i feel my vibes are so bad. honestly. i love his teeth.

im so stressed it hurts, i feel so alien and misunderstood so constantly. i wish i could scream. i constantly feel the need to yell and scream and hit someone or something. i repress it though. obviously. 

i also got small white fine line crosses on the middle of each of my middle fingers, on the palm side. hurt like hell and theyve already faded bad. im getting them done in red ink soon. 

new medicine is making me nauseous. badly! it does kind of work. well enough for the circumstance. also i cant rid of the feeling of wanting to run away forever. its so strange and painful here. this world is so cruel.

and i love my friends so much. so so so much. im so happy with them. im happy when i with them . 

and i still now dream of and long so badly for glamour, a long silk sleep robe and beautiful linen and long black hair that shines blue and white. i still dream of a beautiful apartment in new york. but i need to see an opera so badly right in this moment. i want so badly to be beautiful and shiny. i want my skin to pale down. i want all of the jewels, i want a new gold chain, ive been into sapphire and gold lately. my tiffany charms chain broke. it wasnt tiffany but it was important to me. anyway. i want new rings and new everything and all things beautiful. my skin is so bad.

someday ill be rich because of my own merits. im not very good at anything in particular but i will be. obsessed with moulin rouge and burlesque. and silent film. i wouldve devoured the 20s had i been alive. 

rumination is doing fine. alive and well. eater of worlds alive and well rotting in her room. 

im working on a new project in regards to my writing. it is called death eternal. short stories. thats that. 

revolution of heavenly bodies

 

so, the ep.

actually im not gonna say anything about it. figure it out.

bye

revolution of heavenly bodies

 i finally published the ep i have been working on for the uhh past nine days or so. ill speak of it tomorrow when im not sleepy. goodnight and long live eater of worlds.

baby names

 i may have talked about this but in my 19th birthday party this friend of mine started flirting with my boyfriend. i was pissed off and i went outside for a smoke, started feeling sick, he paid no mind. this was especially bad for me for reasons i wont talk about here, on that day specifically and on his which is only days before. when i got home, i threw up. when i went to confession next morning, i almost did at the booth again.

anyway i do like this friend of mine, shes pretty and generally cool. we talked once about baby names. it felt so strange to me, i felt a strange jealousy bubbling over. shes normal and wants kids, she struggles in her own way but shes fine. im sick and anorexic and failing even at that.

since i wont be having a child ill just mention names i like in a vacuum.

gloria

babylon

paul

damian

soledad

zafiro

kennedy

edgar

angustias

victoria

angel

leon

regina

teresa

venus

jupiter

junipero

alejandro

maría

alejandra

delfina

emile

emilio

pamela

joseph

sergio

balbina

henrietta

cosette

katherine

gabriel

nicholas

diamanda

ethel

dolores

i dont know what he sees in me. i am so sick and broken down, i am a hypocrite and a stupid woman. a truly stupid woman with no real drive. what to do now. i feel so sick. i feel so ugly, so pudgy, disdained, insane, sad and abandoned.

lunar events

 i got my permanent beauty marks. i think ill get them enlarged soon.  theyre only dots. i dont want them to be big but i dont want them to look like blackheads. got two, one under each eye. a millimeter under each eyelash line. those hurt.

i keep feeling a strange sense of dread. i missed the eclipse, it didnt show much where i lived. sadly. i do love lunar events. thinking of my next tattoos and dreading my month. wont spend a penny above what i need. but uni parking money charged per day.

this rage and overriding jealousy are so bad. i feel so bad. i feel so hurt. he left me here to go talk to some friend of his, i dont know much about her. i was so tense, my muscles was spasming and my heart was heavy into my belly. ive done and given so much to him. ive given so many parts of myself i cant get back if i wanted. hes my only hope. and i was sitting amidst my throbbing head and it was so low and so incredibly strong that my new guitar strings broke. i tried to read stories and watch soap operas but hearing their name. what are the chances.

God how am i going to live like this, how did you let me do this? i know its my own fault but how could you let me do this? i thought i would not suffer, i thought you gave me this safe haven to hide from my life. i thought you gave me something shiny to hold on to so i could reflect whatever light i could find and try to make out my path. why? 

why?

eclipse

 

I did not want to visit a psychiatrist. if i was to consumt, pour my secrets over, i feel like they would pounce back at me and id be raped again. 

everytime i think of it it floods me, i wish i was one to forgive things as they came back to me. but i am not. and God will never make me clean again. i will die in my filth. 

when i was a young girl I hated laughing and smiling. I was very stern and serious. when i found something pleasing or humorous, i tried my best for my facial expression to remain shaped into a solid mask.

i wish I could start over. i wish i could start over so badly. i know i cant. i can feel this death move into my body, laying its furniture, painting the walls of my skull. to know its too late is such a particular, cruel torture. why have this punishment, the greatest ever, be gifted to anyone who has committed the crime of living. 

this brain of mine, this parasite in this beautiful host. i am not happy. i made this shallow mud my grave. my remains are never going to be clean, i will perpetually rot and bloat into a pale, shapeless mass. and my body will never relax 

into my bones or shred and melt into the earth. 

and my skull is still so soft. it hurts to press into it. and the pressure inside my head is so dull and i feel as if i had an animal inside of it, expanding into its cavities. 

the eclipse is coming soon. I had a dream. The moon was shaped like a lightbulb and it floated around the world at an altitude of maybe six meters from the ground we live on. and it came into our house, my parents room where we were gathered, and destroyed everything. but its movement was slow, smooth and graceful. and it glowed white. 

how i wish for simpler times. how i do. how i writhe. i long for other things, long for other people, long for more. i looked good on saturday. today i dress in rags again, i fade into my bed. fade into oblivion. i step into the void that i house, this deep oceanic darkness. the sound of the atlantic ocean. the serpent deity wrapped around my ankles and wrists, spreading me over the marble platform, caressing my sternum with a shining blade. the ring of white light over the black night, the chirp on the creatures of day and the eyes of the creatures of night.

what did i do

 my soft animal body, what have i done to it? how have i fell down this hole.

i will get epidermal tattoos of beauty marks. like 40 usd total. hope its all good. im trying to acknowledge the pain of the physical form, i dont want to reject it anymore, i want to intentionally interact with my physical form, but what i want is to stop hurting. i worship all pain.

im ancient and medieval, im byzantine. i am soft, warm flesh squeezed by cold, hard steel. i wish i could remove my uterus, cut the skin between my legs and stitch it into a flat surface, then put a hot pink zirconia microdermal jewel on it so it doesnt look bland or uncanny. 

i wished as a child to stop understanding human sexuality. i saw it as an artistic rendition all of the worlds men and women took part of. it was not. i understood i never really got human sexuality and they did it out of seeking something. i never found it nor cared to find it. i know only that human pain has to upper limit, and pleasure is limited at the floral delight of sleep. midsummer nights dream. sleeping nymph under the emerald woods. i wish to be in my vision, i want to go home to my motherland. the star is so far. it is so far.

he lay the origin of his evil into the softness of my purity. i let him because he had imagined it into the continuous stream of time over and over until it calcified into the things that have happened, are happening and are happening. this body is worth cents, skin is a dime a pound. i let him because it had already happened. all the horrible things that can happen will, and it had always been so. i let him and i didnt move a twitch, i kept on my masque, singing and dancing. a stone dryad cracked at the tips of the limbs. i did it because it paid and it had already happened. and i didnt let anyone know i bled for days. he injected black tar venom into the warm walls of my entrapment where i lay inside my crib, my body deformed into a crab. i let him because this place has not hosted another voiced creature, i was only aware of the outside world through whatever echo the door allowed, i was only aware of the sun through the leaks on the roof. i bled for days and didnt tell a soul. i let him over and over. every day i bleed. i bled black and brown. my pillows no longer white.

i wish i was dead, for i cannot stop trying to dig myself out of my human realm. i am not from here. my mother egypt corrupted by man. my mother earth. i am from here. sand in my eyes. gold. turquoise sky.

i pass gold chains through my breast, i wear a mouche, i comb my hair with ivory, i have it fall, i never made love, i never got touched, i never was not capricious, i loved champagne. always loved wine and gold. i starv to death. i eat beautiful pastries. i never killed. i never laughed too hard. i never feared any over God. i always loved the sun. i apply white powder on my skin. i listen to rock n roll. listen to the harp, the organ the harpsichord. listen to metal. i wear myself, i carry my burden, i wait to die. always supple, never meaty, never too soft, always wayward always glamourous. 

however..

 ill word this as if this was my last post to comfort myself. depends on the night i have. i plan on drinking some maybe. ill see if i get bold and do it. i dont mind not saying it properly. a lot of people will not understand this statement. my family will know why and the only person close to me will know as well.

i have no one on my side here, nobody understands. i belong someplace else, i was born in the wrong body, wrong species, wrong planet. i was meant to be placed somewhere kinder. i cannot keep holding myself up to the same standards as human beings. im immature and i will never grow any older, i have stumbled into a deep well and my cries for help and aid sound like gushing water to the outside listener. my bones are broken. i was gifted with immortality and put in an iron casket, thrown to the sea. i was forsaken by God it feels. i prayed so hard for guidance and strength. but today i am more lost than i ever have been. weaker. i grew so weak over the past few. im scared of the future. i think i need to make a run for it. they are banging on my door and will soon break it in. i have to choose now, the window or their hands. 

i have to choose now. i am with no hope for the future, i am abandoned to the sake of the wilderness. it is getting darker and the heat is discipating, and the cruelty of the forest wakes at dusk. but i am ready to go into the stars.

HOWEVER

 i am still so thankful.

today i did fight with my mom. and we had some hangups. then she went out of her way to gift me guitar strings i needed desperately and a harmonica for reasons i dont understand. it was such a sweet gesture, i cried.

a friend of mine is being taken care of by her parents overtime. she has some sort of issue with gastric reflux and theyre flying her out of the country to see a doctor. i felt bad and slightly envious. this disease riddles me and prods me, it has taken my life. and she gets to go on a trip see a doctor because of this acid reflux. i also have acid reflux. it took my teeth. and it takes my voice. i KNOW its not easy business. but i feel so bad since i have this horrible, sick, scary future in front of me because of this horrible illness which feels like a personal attack  (i always was so obsessed with a concave stomach and being under 90 lbs. now i am closer to 100 or a bit more even and im bloated) and it takes so much that it ends me.

but i AM thankful. i am thankful that my parents have money to provide me comfortable sleep and food that i can eat. i am thankful that we are comfortable and as stable as we need to be. i am thankful we sometimes do try to love each other and show each other love. when  we ask each other for affection, i am thankful that sometimes we do try our best to go out of our way (we are often cold) and give it. i love my family, i love my dad even if he is a wall and my mom even if she is so dense. i love my brother to death and back. i love all of them but my brother is shaping up to be such a sweet, sensible man. i am very proud of the type of person he is becoming, truly a fine example of what a human being is. i hope he has kids if he so wants, i hope he finds a good woman because i know hes worried about that. i hope he is never corrupted by worldly forces. and if he does i hope i am still around to get him on the right path. but i hope he finds a great woman who is strong and as sweet as he is so they can grow together and populate the earth with equally good people. he of course has maturing to do, but hes shaping up. i am thankful for them, i am thankful for my angel of a brother, who remains still over the crashing, bawling ocean. i am thankful for my mom, her pieces lost into the deep black sea. but still her plaque stands and her spine is straight. i am thankful for my dad who doesnt face the shore.

i am thankful for my boyfriend above anything, i would die without him. i love him ardently. i dont deserve him, the world doesnt deserve him. he is giving, sacrificing, beautiful as a white lamb and gorgeously, purely, glowingly animalic as if he was coated in clean, soft fur. his breathing like a sleeping kitten. i adore him, i am endlessly devoted, i will do anything to fulfill him and whatever need he harvests, i will feed him my flesh and my bone marrow if he starved, if he craved for it. i would give him everything i have if he needed it. i would shave years off my life so he could go on longer, i will do it all to never be without him. i have known deep sorrows and he has brought me to my bleeding hands and knees on accident but never on purpose. he is everything to me, he is as big as the church. i cannot wait to marry him and sleep beside him, wake up beside him, come home to him, cook his meals and wash his linen with my hands. i love him and i am so thankful for his grace, his bright mind like a gem, his drive, his beauty, his gentle hands. i love him and i am eternally chained to the debts i have to him. i love him and i am thankful about everything he is and has ever been.

we watched interview with a vampire through video call. hes so patient with me. we havent seen each other in days, we spend up to twelve hours in video calls each day. interview with a vampire is one of my favorite movies (no surprise there), we enjoyed it quite a bit. we watched better call saul and talked and talked. today we watched the lobster which he really liked and walked a lot. i am so thankful for today even though its been so rough.

i am thankful for VILLE VALO AND HIS CONTRIBUTION TO MY MUSIC CANON. i am thankful for NEON NOIR AND ALSO ALL OF THE HIM DISCOGRAPHY. i am thankful for lana del rey and nicole dollanganger for making me the person i am (oops!) and to DAVID "BOWIE" JONES for making me into the woman i grew to be and for being my father superior I MISS YOU STILL. to pat benatar, pj harvey and joan jett for making me into a woman in the first place. i am thankful to LORD WORM and the entirety of CRYPTOPSY for NONE SO VILE AND WHISPER SUPREMACY and BLASPHEMY MADE FLESH NONE SO VILE BEST DEATH METAL ALBUM. i am thankful and forever grieving PELLE OHLIN for his contribution to BLACK METAL with his bands MORBID and MAYHEM. i am thankful and forever grieving  QUORTHON who is BACK IN THE FLESH I CARRY.  YOUR LEGACY WILL LIVE ON. i am thankful to LEONARD COHEN. i am thankful for the girlies at AGRICULTURE. to BATUSHKA. to DARKTHRONE. to EMPEROR and IMMORTAL. to GEORGE "CORPSEGRINDER" FISHER and the entirety of CANNIBAL CORPSE. to the people over at DEATH now DEATH TO ALL. to MUSIC! TO MUSIC AND ART! TO MY OPERA TEACHER.

i am thankful for the virility i have left, the vitality. the beating of my heart is deeper and than most peoples, it is engraved into the earth. i have been here forever. i am thankful for my bed and my body that has stood torture like no other, and crawling broken and limp but standing still.

i am thankful to Jesus Christ who died for our sins and LORD FATHER GOD who send us His Son for our salvation and to THEOTOKOS HOLY MOTHER of Christ AVE MARIA REGINA MATER, SANCTISSIMA ET PURA, DULCIS ET MISERICORS. 

i am thankful for all of the world. my beautiful cats sidney, delfina, kennedy and darcy. my future cats and my future little pets. my house. my city. my hopefully future place i will live in. whatever happens to me. forever thankful.