Sea Salt

breathe

2015-06-19T21:28:00.005+09:00

a friend. found my blog. i think.

i have no idea how i feel about this. i feel a bit too vulnerable than i wish to be.

edit: i no longer think. i know. he's found it. i hyperventilate.

woody allen trips me up sometimes

2015-06-13T22:53:00.001+09:00

Sometimes I walk around with a little fantasy in my head
Of the people I'll meet, the people I've said
Sometimes I'll get these deep urges to journal and to write
and I'll print pictures and pictures and pictures of the things I love
and the things
that mystify.

Midnight in Paris, 2011

But these urges are becoming few and far between
and I wonder if that means my last few relationships with creativity
is leaving me.

And I fear and I fear and I fear

And I fear and I fear

and I fear.

tapioca pearls

2015-06-04T03:55:00.002+09:00

Everyone else clambered around, grabbing spots, gasping at the beauty. Whispering rustles and gentle bumps, too captivated to see where they were going.

Joel Meyerowitz

And soon I was the only one standing, and I was blind. Someone - Matthias? - grabs my hand, "Come down here" and I finally settle. But I'm still blind. I grope blindly for my glasses; why can't I see what everyone else sees?
"Can you see the stars?"
Yes, I lie, but all I can see is the heavy weight of the night and smell of dimmed sun. I can't see the brilliance of the stars.
So I give up,
close my eyes,
sleep.

with you

2015-05-10T22:23:00.005+09:00

It's amazing what a couple of years can do to perspective.

I used to think there was emotional abuse,
but now,
I'm not sure.

Maybe I need a couple more years.

Until then, I will stop saying,
"He abused me"
because

maybe I abused him, too.

{Ben Giovanni}

Easter Eve

2015-04-04T04:02:00.001+09:00

Depending on where you live, tomorrow is Easter Sunday.

Easter is the day Jesus rose from the dead. The day death was defeated.
The day He won for me... for you.

I hope you are looking forward to worshiping who God is and what He's done for us.

If you aren't... or don't... God is reaching out to you right now.
Talk to Him.
He'll blow you away with everything.
You will find Him.

I will be praying for you.
God bless.

8 Years

2015-03-30T00:34:00.001+09:00

8 years.
Cheated some, probably.

But still, 8 years.

For one girl.

8th anniversary: girl brings different boy.
Kisses boy.

"We're over," said girl.

You could hear the cracks.

A piece I won't get back

2015-03-11T20:00:00.000+09:00

Sometimes I forget.
I forget that I'm necessary,
that I'm loved,
that I matter,
that I am strong.

These days, I've forgotten these things more often than I'd like.
As if little by little, an eraser has quietly been rubbing away another piece of me.
A piece I won't get back.

I miss more people now.
I miss familiar touches.
I miss the sound of people's voices,
and I miss the physical presence of those
I love.

I don't want to forget, but I do.
What if I forget everything?
What then will I be.

Don't forget me.
Please.
Don't forget me.

so it's been a little difficult

2015-02-09T17:21:00.001+09:00

so it's been a little difficult
not the best time not the worst
but not the best
not the most pleasant
definitely not easy.

Of January

2014-07-22T00:46:00.000+09:00

I found the one I've been searching for. You know who I mean.
The one who will wipe your tears and crushingly hug you when you scream.
The one who laughs with you, who sees you, who is with you.
The one who takes off your masks and says, "Ah. Such beauty shouldn't be hidden from the world."

I've found Him.

When I first heard His voice, I melted.
I shuddered because such deliciousness cannot be described.
And as I spent more time with Him, He taught me how to love myself...
and also how to love others.
He taught me to trust.
He spoke my worth - I am priceless.

I know who I am now.

I am His.

It is very difficult now.

2013-11-10T02:13:00.001+09:00

It has been difficult to write, even more so when writing poetry. It seems that I have lost the will to pick up a pen and paper and write about anything.
I don't understand why.

Even now as I type this out in the draft format of the blog's post, I am constantly berating myself for doing something that I do not care about or want to do. Should I not do it because I do not want to do it? Or should I keep typing away at this trying to figure out my muddled mind?

I think that it is my mind that is standing in my way. My confusion with who I am is making me a bit lost. It had been going through my head lately, but it got worse as I passed my eighteenth birthday in October.

Why do I feel like my soul is screaming because it is trapped inside this jail of a body? I want to cry with big crocodile tears, but I cannot. I want to scream like a banshee, but I cannot. I want to laugh like I truly mean it, and smile without a trace of the mask I wear, but I cannot. Sometimes I take the mask off and I look at it with curiosity because I cannot seem to remember why I have it, or why I wear it.

Surely there must have been a reason. A good reason.

I have lived in my head for quite a long time. I have not ever made a genuine connection with anyone. I do not have many friends, and those who call me theirs makes me question their motives. But who am I to complain? It was me who made it that way.

But I feel like it is time. Time to be willing to be open up? I don't know.

I am so scared, you see. It isn't the "scare" where someone pops out at you with a "Boo!" and you giggle it off. No, it is the sweat-trickling, eyes-widening, shuddering, chilling, and horrifying fear. For who will accept my crocodile tears? Who will hear my screams? Who will want to laugh with me and who will see me, take off my mask and tell me I don't need it anymore?

Maybe it's better off to be alone.
Who cares, right?

You promised

2013-08-07T14:48:00.001+09:00

She shouldn't have, but she did.
She... wasn't supposed to.
But she did.

She lied.
She lies.
She will lie.

She promised she wouldn't.
She promised.

You promised.

We are here

2013-07-11T18:43:00.000+09:00

They kept on saying that we are not here.
But as of late... we are here.

Air Kiss

2013-06-28T22:26:00.004+09:00

I like the sound of air kisses.
Your fingers feel every fold of your lips, the gentle curves of the entrance to the heart.
Hot air blows out with each breath, and it's just so personal that you have to take away the hand for a moment, only to feel the imprint of beauty lingering behind.

Lips press against the force of the fingers for a second, only to be released with the sound of morning glories opening to the sun. And when the kiss is released into the world, you can feel the warmth fleeting away.

And that's when you realized what passion and heat air kisses have. How personal it can be made.

Kiss

With All My Heart

2013-06-28T10:17:00.002+09:00

I didn't hate you.
I only missed you
I didn't resent you,
I only loved you
with all my heart.

I loved you.
I loved you.
I love you.

I loved you... I love you

Clasped Hands

2013-06-19T14:10:00.000+09:00

So much power in those clasped hands
For the warmth that is found in a moment of grasping

When hands are held, hearts are moved
A symbol: You are not alone -- let's walk each other home.

Silent Dying

2013-06-15T14:31:00.000+09:00

I can always sit and watch the way
The rain hits the water's surface,
Creating worlds of reflecting ripples
That are cut off,
Without able to spread its wings.

Is this what my life is meant to be?

Inspired by: Silent Dying, Laura Makabresku

Remember

2013-06-06T01:07:00.002+09:00

I was standing in front of S. I said something. I don't remember.

S called me dead and emotionless.
You're an emotionless cadaver with daddy issues, she spat.
He hits, and you can't even talk about it.

Her words maimed, killed, tore and scratched. She clawed at my insecurities, my weight, my body, my financial troubles. My best friend ripped my carefully placed shrouds in front of everyone.

Do you feel better? I asked

What?

Do you feel better?

I've never felt better.

I'm glad something good came from this.
I kept your secrets. I kept my promises. I kept my word. But you... You didn't keep my secrets. You didn't keep your promises. You didn't keep your word.
Remember.

I woke up sweating and hyperventilating. It was a dream.

Who Will Be Us?

2013-05-31T11:57:00.000+09:00

God created you to be you and me to be me.
If you are not you and I am not me
Who will be us?

I'm a mess

2013-05-08T19:50:00.000+09:00

I don't regret a lot of things.
But what I regret, I always remember.

I broke numerous promises.
I falsely claimed; I have foolishly trusted.
I have pushed away; I have stayed when not needed.

Oh, well.
I'm a mess.

Mess

It's Been A While

2013-05-07T14:16:00.003+09:00

It's been a while.

I've been alone.

I was hurt.

I was sad.

Notice the past tense.

I have found true friends.

I have found ways to heal.

I am not scared to be alone.

No longer.

Ready or not... I'm back now.

Rise

Nothing Was Clear

2013-04-07T02:34:00.001+09:00

Lies.
They crashed like tidal waves
Soared and swelled with imagination.
I couldn't tell if anything was right.

And soon, too my surprise,
I found myself building walls.
I hadn't realized that they had built
A castle for me to live in.

Exist

2013-03-25T02:30:00.001+09:00

When I pressed my hands against the panes drenched with sunlight, I felt cold clasp my hand in a familiar embrace.
And I thought:

I have very faint memories of before. The only existence I know now is the one I was given.
An echo of what used to be.

Now, it's hard to exist when the world is giving me a manual of perfection.

But,
I dare to live, to be vibrant, to shine with all my heart and with all my might.
And when I die, as I inevitably will, I shall shatter into diamonds.
And people will see that it was what I was made of.

"We were both alone, both existing as the absence of something else."
- Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me

If I actually said this

2013-03-23T18:34:00.000+09:00

Ellen told me that we have clashes in opinions over certain topics and controversial issues.

"I'm not being pissy, I'm just stating fact," she over explained. Her inner voice said, "Maybe we should work on that so you can officially be in my group."

"Isn't it natural?" I asked. "But you know, I don't fight, argue, discuss, and defend issues with you that I don't give two cents about. I don't need to prove anything to you, much less argue about something pointless, because frankly, I don't care. If it isn't in my star system, then I obviously don't think about it. And the really cool thing is, is that I don't care about your opinion. And if push comes to shove, I won't care about you."

I wonder what her face would have looked like if I actually said this.

Tell me something.

2013-03-21T00:27:00.000+09:00

I don't need a better thing

I'd settle for less

It's another thing for me

I just have to wander through this world

Alone.

I asked a friend to just talk.
Tell me something, I said.
Tell me anything, please. Can you do this for me? I asked

Of course, he said.

I didn't tell him what was truly going through my mind:
PLEASE. CONNECT WITH ME.
I need some sort of sign that I am not alone, that I deserve to breathe, to laugh, to cry.
I need someone to hug me and just exist along my side.

Keep on counting

2013-03-04T19:39:00.000+09:00

1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10.
Again.
1... 2... 3... 4... 5...

My survival depends on those steady, repetitive digits. Without them, I fail to keep a calm face. Without them, I fail to be indifferent.
It's hard to describe the present, because whatever what was written before was the past.
There's a lot of mindlessness, small intervals of thoughtless fun, and silent streams of tears that don't matter.

Whenever a chance comes, I dive into whatever comfort I can find in the arms of carefree friends, who really aren't my friends, who don't know what I'm feeling, who don't know what I need, who don't know me.

So I keep on counting until it's an automatic jerk reaction to any type of confrontation.

I'm just past blaming everyone or everything.

I just want to burn, and I want to count while in flames.