our bodies washed up

I don't know what it is but i'm incredibly tired of school and i just want it to end and oh my god it's just too much. Can i really do this?

All i want to do is look at beautiful things, read words that make me forget myself, love like i've never loved before, paint a picture of my life, listen to melodies that make my soul dance and watch the sun rise and set without looking away.

I want my body tattooed with all the things i love.

I want to take a boat ride to Boston and think about Play Crack the Sky.

I want the weather to be warm so i can just lose all inhibitions and run ravishly through the sand into the water and splash it over the please so i can make the ocean the know tham i'm there and that i love it with all my body.

Jesus CHRIST i have so much i want to give and do. I can't understand why at this very moment i feel like i'm going to burst if i don't do something extravagant and beautiful and glorious.

I'm tired of my dad being a dick. I just don't fucking care any more and won't care i swear. I can't stand to be held back anymore. I didn't do anything to deserve this.

i think run on sentences are better than normal sentences. it doesn't matter if there's too many "ands" and fluffy nonsense.

there is no adjective part 2

The rose has but a summer's reign but the daisy never dies.

Daisies were known through all the wars standing the test of time and keeping their grace and beauty. It also means days eve, in regards to how the flower opens. It opens in the morning and closes at night. how it comes full circle.

On Thursday, March 5th, i wrote the blog named "There is no Adjective." I deleted it because i grew to believe there really was an adjective for it. I was wrong, severely wrong. No word will ever suffice for what I felt on that day, for what feelings encapsulated my body and led me to write such honest words. What i felt then, is still present as I type these words. The closest thing to it is a daisy. It withstands battles, hate, war, tramplings, everything that is regarded as destructive in this world.


- SO i feel the need to discuss what happened at the get together in Jason's honor. So at first it was just a couple of us doing hookah but then Vic and Nigel showed up...which of course completed the circle of happiness. Everyone was together...all six of us. We decided to grab some drinks somewhere and of course, the tequila shots came rolling in without a stop on sight. Everyone got wasted except Maddy. Every was smiling, overjoyed, pouring i love you's out to everyone...just plain awesome in a cup. As you can see in the photo, those were quite over sized cups resulting in double shots which of course, did not agree with my body. The following two days were horrendous, minus the time when i drank half a bottle of Bacardi. That was quite an experience. Anyway, i managed to miss an exam and a day I had a paper due. Note to self: never drink tequila when Nigel is involved.
But really, all jokes aside, that day was fantastical and it reminded me of what happiness really is. There is no adjective for it.


- So video chatting with vanessa is like eating popsicles on a 105 degree day.


- This is my father. He could be a dick sometimes but i still love him. Look at him drinking that coffee all proper. We were in Boston here over looking Cape Anne: one of the most beautiful places in the world. Someone come with me there again.



15th
5th
7th
3rd
5th
24th
5th

no subject. at all.

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i got nothin.

if it kills me

I'm sinking like a stone in the sea.
I'm burning like a bridge for your body.

top of my mind

Wake up. Get out of bed and stop hiding under the duvet, no matter how warm it is. You will get nothing accomplished. Put some clothes on. Wear the red tights with the mustard yellow shoes. Arrange the 3 day old curls in your hair. Do something nice for yourself today. Get pretty for absolutely no reason other than to prove to yourself that you’re not worthless and sloven. Go to your favorite record store and listen to the old man’s playlist that usually consists of Howlin’ Wolf and strange 60s Middle Eastern music. Buy yourself your favorite garlic and tomato burrito, and make sure you get extra guacamole. Drive past Emily Dickinson’s house and imagine the lack of life she had. Spend the extra money on your favorite art magazine and plan a trip to Sweden in your head. Sing your favorite songs in your car. Make a pit stop to the reservoir. Collect the last leaves from autumn. Watch the sun sink into the horizon.Don’t stare at your phone and wait for it to vibrate. Don’t mope. Don’t think about the only men in your life that have belittled you this week. Don’t sit. Don’t wait. Don’t look at the time that you’ve always set to three hours behind. Don’t delay your life even though someone has attempted to delay yours."


Sometimes we expect more from others because we would be willing to do the same for them.

For the third reiteration, we are our biggest thieves. We allow a slight level of torture towards ourselves...a compensation mechanism if you must. Whether it be subconscious or conscious, it is present within most of us. We have sinned, so we permit a level of continuous failure to sort of, punish ourselves. I have watched myself commit this crime towards myself endless times, and it doesn't seem to fail.

We live a culture of guilt. Not of shame.
>>>>>
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I know all right choices. I have an outline. I have the ideas. What holds us back is the fear of breaking someone else, of our skepticism towards the outcome, the future, the days we breathe alongside our decisions.

We fear the "ifs", the effects, the OTHER possibility and if it would've brought us more happiness. What holds me back is the hope of potential growth. We ponder it, we mull it over in our minds, we never let it leave our questionable minds.

Summer & Autumn

500 DAYS OF SUMMER is real. To the writer it's real. To the viewer...ME...it's real. He was Summer. YOU are my Autumn: the only season that matters.

mother do you remember.

We will rise.
Why is everything so trivial?...So insignificant?
I think Brutus was foolish for killing Ceasar. He did not gain a thing.
Some people consciously run from what could be good for them...others just don't know it's there...most couldn't care less...few take action...so which are you?
I seek what I can't have from those that won't give it me. It's something I can't escape.
A puzzle I'd like to put together is my father.
Mother forgive me I sold the car for the shoes that I give you.
mother remember being so stern with that boy who was with me?
daughters can be birds flying over the mountain.
mother i lost it all from the fear of the Lord I was giving.
Mother remember those pups cradled in our drawer covered in blankets?
mother remember reciting our prayer to the God we believed in together?
mother do you remember those melodies we sang about our pets?
do you remember your love of
Can there be a God who could take away such a person? Why would they hurt her...and let it resonate everytime I breathe?
I'll give my all because she never got a chance.
Music is what keeps my soul sound. Melodies heard in the still of the night feeds my body.
Trying to satisfy everyone is the worst think you can ever do. It will never work.

Moon is real

Moon was real...or at least she knew a lit flame would illicit pain. She was not sad, nor was she happy. Moon was incomprehensible to others; she slightly basked in this glory she inadvertently had yet she also resented its perpetual nature. A wish she sometimes hoped for was to be more approachable and less tangled. Even so, her thoughts were never placid yet her demeanor rarely reflected it. They were often raging so much that it was almost like a largely dynamic calm...almost soothing; to be some sort of dissonant silence. The credibility of her sanity often came to mind. Or maybe, she felt everything too much. She felt close to broken people. Fate wasn't something she seeked solace in...though she knew some things were meant to be more than others. She committed so many sins with the best of intentions, even throughout the act. She loved sincerely and secretly never completely let go of anything. She sometimes feels alone in a crowded place. Moon never likes...her capability runs from indifference to love without a bridge connecting the two.

Moon was real. She loathed conversing about the things she's in love with. She thought speaking of them cheapened their value; that they somehow seemed less important when trying to explain their golden nature. Perhaps this was a warped rationale. Moon was aloof.

Alone, she had no inhibitions because she did in fact care of others judgment. She knew everyone did as well, though pride won't permit mention of it. Was Moon alone in her endeavours? Was there a point in even having an endavour? Who cared? Who actually felt excitement in her hopeful success? She wants it all from you and all others because she can give her ALL as well. We are nothing without the grace of another's presence, though she sometimes forgot this fact. She knew she was her own biggest thief.

Moon was real. She chose those around her wisely; often she gave them everything. Her actions weren't to boost self-worth, they weren't to breathe easy. They weren't to fill to her quota for a ticket to Heaven....she knew some simply deserved it all. Everywhere she ventured, a melody led her steps. She thoroughly believes in the soundtrack to people's lives. Moon knew love when she saw it. She seldom talked about it; she didn't like those who promiscuously spoke of it. Love paralleled religion, the only difference is that love is real. It is by no means limited to thriving between people. Moon saw beauty in the slightest of movements. She enjoyed people's mannerisms...their minute characteristics. She saw so little but felt so much. One could mistake that for a burden because sometimes, she just wanted to feel nothing. She feared death and eternity...simultaneously.

However, loneliness was her most paramount fear. She couldn't comprehend normality.
She liked the unknown but craved hints; they made her ponder while providing a chance to create a logical possibilty based on thought alone. Moon doesn't see the gap between love and its polar opposite.

She liked branding herself on other's souls. She hoped to never be forgotten. She is stubborn. She is like a gargantuam, layered, intricate, lush oak tree. She is more than you'll ever bargain for and quite a feat to detangle. The past makes the present. She looks like any other girl except....she isn't. She knows many days of the year are uneventful, not worthy of recalling though she begs to differ. Every day, there is something new. It's a small journey, a heartache, a smile, a new memory, a new piece of furniture added to the giant room in her brain...nothing is nothing and everything is everything. Nothing is everything. Have patience. She teaches and learns with too much humility.

Moon is real. There were many other moons, other little planets revolving bigger planets--but really, there is only one MOON called the MOON. The sun indirectly pulls her...with a large being in between her and the sun. So the question is, who is her Earth? Who is her gravity?

It is the entity that fights all my trials

Love is kind and patient.
It writes the lyrics to its own melody.
It is neither bitter nor mean.
It can be hurtful at times, almost heart-wrenching
…but it is that which makes it trudge along.
I am often alone in my endeavors but can never fully say why.
Perhaps it is the fear that people are fleeting and no one will remain.
Why is it that parents sometimes cause regression rather than progression in their children?
Could it be their fears of seeing their children soar higher than they themselves?
Is it their own insecurities projected onto their little ones?
Maybe they simply aren’t acquainted with one another…
It’s a mystery equivalent to the strangeness of the universe.
I accept my misfortunes because they come when I least apprehend them.
Yet, happiness never seems to leave my body. It is the entity that fights all my trials.
I was told that I must change or I will watch my happiness dwindle…they told me I must NOT be alone in my endeavors, that my army of happiness needs backup and those must be other people. I was always a firm believer in facing things alone and never asking for help because those are signs of weakness but I can’t seem to disregard the strong advice I was given. This person has told me they do not need me because they’ve got tens of genuine, wholesome friends…some of them already deemed unnecessary. I was told by them that I myself, in fact, need them and I can no longer stay solitary.
Maybe, sometimes, I have to ask for help and hope they’ll still be there when I can reciprocate the favor. The question is, do I have such people? I am hoping so.
In times like these I miss my mother even more.
Regardless…I cannot help but be happy…in a contemplative mood.





In Our Darkest Hour
In My Deepest Despair
Will You Still Care?
Will You Be There?
In My Trials
And My Tribulations
Through Our Doubts
And Frustrations
In My Violence
In My Turbulence
Through My Fear
And My Confessions
In My Anguish And My Pain
Through My Joy And My Sorrow
In The Promise Of Another Tomorrow
I'll Never Let You Part
For You're Always In My Heart.
top: Francisco Goya. A sick Spaniard who bled awesome.
middle: Claude Monet. The coiner of Impressionism...or rather this painting began the era. OHH LOOK AT THE LUMINOSITYYYYY.
Bottom: Monet.... it's just so rich in deep, warm colors that calms the soul in the mess of strokes.

ART & MUSIC MAKE MY LIFE.

Sounds of my Day 2...

Help me move this gargantuam piece of furniture will ya?...
"Quiero ir a la playa todos los dias..." "YOU SPEAK SOUTH AMERICAN?!"..."um..."
I'm going to remember you as a time of day catface...
This is a Rockaway Bound A train, next stop Euclid Avenue...
How can one not regret yet severely miss simultaneously?...
"I WANNA SMOKE MARIJUANA!"...
"Small iced coffee with skim and 2 splendas"..."sure"... :::adds whole milk:::
" I SAID SKIM!!!!!" :::dies:::
"Spare some change?..."
My body is the earth you are my gravity...
"Elvis go to sleep it's 3fuckingAM."... "I NEVER SLEEP!" :::flies:::
Happiness runs in the shape of colors...
DO I LOOK LIKE FOOD TO YOU SEAGULL?!?...
The problem is I eat 90,000 calories a day...
Joanie biffle i miss you...
How does it know i know Pashaaaa!!%^$?...
Are those real?...
This is Halsey street...
100 foot faces, God's good ocean gone wrong...
:::stomach rumbles:::
COPS!...
"If you were the wood I'd be the fire. If you were the love I'd be the desire"...
Hey Lady Bug...oh wait I'm Banana Peel right?...
Does Ronald McDonald live up there?...
You ate my pasta stupid child...
"Where's my Vanilla faced woman?"...
Harmonica...
At 21, I can legally do everything I've been doing since the age of 15...
Stuck in Houstatlantavegas...
No worries...YES WORRIES...
Mother can you see me?...
Munchie and PandaBee...
Part time lover and a full time friend...
The storn is coming...