Here it comes again, this horrible sensation of falling into the emptiness, of being in a place but like an empty body without a soul. This sensation of desiring to be the only one person on the planet, of blame, even though I haven't done anything wrong. On this days I really wish that I had an auto destroy button, that spilled all these empty-body pieces on the space and then I wouldn't have to feel this way again. Nevertheless, the only button that I have it's all the triggers around me that make me feel this stupid and nonsensical way. When is it going to end? My med is not working anymore, my mind isn't either, nor my heart. Now I have EVERYTHING I wanted before, but I still feel empty. There's no sense for me in this world, nothing is real, everything has an end, starting with life itself, which means that all my actual worries are just a waste of time because I am going to die anyway. I don't know how to stop feeling this way, I WANT to feel full of something, not temporary, but yes I know that everyone has its own problems. I know that my problems aren't bigger that some people's problems, and according to several people I was lucky to be born...
I didn't ask that though but well, if my adoptive mother knew how I feel, and she loved me only a little... she would feel bad for helping the woman who had me to have me, in my case... abortion would have been the better option available, but as some stupid people feel culprit in front of a NONEXISTENT "God" I was condemned to this hell, which doesn't have fire, or a demon, because the fire are my own thoughts and the devil is me. :/
5.30.2017
5.26.2017
A New Feeling
I always had the stubborn desire of falling in love with someone who didn't put me in a clear place in his life. I never knew that having a special place in somebody's life would be so joyful. Being sure that he is also thinking about you and he worries about you, it's a paradise. When I met him, I was afraid that he would be like the other men, it was a mistake to make that silly comparison. I confused the hurricane inside of me with love several times, even though instead of a smile, these feelings, caused me anxiety and a hell of fear of being dumped, I really started thinking that loving someone and being loved was boring since I never knew that feeling. -sighs- I was so fucking crazy!
So, if there's somebody reading this I must tell you, don't be scared, don't reject the person who treats you right, accept him because it's like finding a hidden treasure that nobody else will enjoy but you.
I would not change this feeling of comfort and happiness, intensity, complicity and understanding, for some passion night with somebody who is just going to leave another scar on my very damaged heart, I rather see the beauty in this new feeling.
5.18.2017
His Lack of Experience
His eyes are like a forest. I can look into them and get lost in the woods, his curly hair smells like vanilla mixed with coconut and his collarbone and neck skin has a soft sweet taste. He makes it hard to me to get away from him. Hypnotizing me may be his favorite past time. Although he's probably the most rebel, annoying and inexperienced boy I have met, something about it makes me want him though. I feel so tempted to open his eyes to the world that I already know and he feels very excited to know it as well. I would never, ever before in my life have thought that somebody like him would attract me that much, but I've been thinking that my experience got all these years of insignificant affairs is going to be finally necessary, to introduce my dear to the madness of love.
When I met him, our very first kiss was really awkward. He couldn't understand that to kiss right he had to open his lips and kiss slowly. The second one was kind of better and made me feel something like butterflies inside of me. Then, the first time that I visited his house. While messing around in his room he got overwhelmed by me and said He did not deserve me. Maybe he doesn't know that I am probably the one who doesn't deserve such a respectful and tender man, one that (as annoying as it is for me) always asks me if something it's right or wrong several times before doing it. Someone who for the very simple thing says sorry but after a while learns how to behave when it comes to love matters.
My dear, it's usually focusing on everything that surrounds him, and it's so cute when he looks at me and immediately takes his eyes out of mine embarrassed. When I caress his face, his nose bridge, and his eyebrows, he asks me: What? and I chuckle to my insides wondering what the hell was he doing all these years, that even though he's an adult, older than me, in love, it's just a kid.
The lack of experience of my cute and handsome man, it's something new for me, and while being something new stills seem so tender to me because this time, I am not going to be taught but I am going to teach and there's a weird pleasure in knowing that the person you are with, and its lack of experience, it's going to make you probably the very first woman that taught him to love and make love.
5.17.2017
Blank
Have you ever seen a blank page?
Then, you'll probably know how my mind and my heart look inside
I don't have anything written inside any of them
Nothing more than sorrow and pain that can't be deleted with anything
The pills just take away the feeling, the words, they calm me for a while... and the people, I don't even want them close from me.
There is not a pencil that can erase, correct and re-write my pain. Here I am negatively thinking again, the same stupid fucking cicle over and over again, while my mind, stills blank.
Then, you'll probably know how my mind and my heart look inside
I don't have anything written inside any of them
Nothing more than sorrow and pain that can't be deleted with anything
The pills just take away the feeling, the words, they calm me for a while... and the people, I don't even want them close from me.
There is not a pencil that can erase, correct and re-write my pain. Here I am negatively thinking again, the same stupid fucking cicle over and over again, while my mind, stills blank.
I Wonder (Uncensored nor Unmasked With Pretty Words)
I wonder in what moment I got so accustomed to be treated like crap by men. I got that accustomed that now when someone shows me real appreciation I freak out, because for 20 years this is the first time that someone does that. I wonder but I know something...
I grew up not being loved, and knowing that the first person in my life, the one that was supposed to be by my side on my first moments, decided to give me away like a fucking gift or worse, an object. I always ask myself why people like her have to have kids, even though that question, if not asked, would take out the possibility that I would be in this world today, but I don't care, because even thought I am in this world... I feel so fucking incomplete, so maybe that's why I always attach myself to some kind of asshole, because I never knew what was to be loved in the first place, and now I am like a dog raised by a mistreating owner. A dog that now, needs time to accept love. This dog needs time to get accustomed to love, and be loved, and learn not to bite his new owner's hands.
There was a time that I went to my doctor, and when he asked me if I ever considered the possibility of killing myself. I felt like the world had fallen above me, cause I did, and I didn't want to ask that question. I ended up crying like a baby, crying and explaining my sorrows to my doctor, something that, when I was kid, innocent, stupid and forgiving, I would have never thought that I would be doing. What I did not say to my doctor was, that when I was 14 years old, I took my grandmother's pills wanting to die, but the stupid pills didn't kill me, they just made me vomit for a day and half of the other, and the only thing my DEAR grandma told me was, that I had to buy her a new bottle of pills cause she was aching. I remember me thinking about what a fucking bitch she was, she did not have enough with hitting me and telling me I was a bitch all my childhood, making me feel like if being adopted was my fucking fault. She also had to make me feel like she would have been so fucking happy If I would have died. I ended up going to a stupid Christian church to please her when I was 15 and I spent 2 years of my life trying to convince myself that GOD was real. What a fucking joke. Cause if he really existed, he would not permit that me and my older sister who is unfortunately the daughter of the crazy bitch who decided to give me away when I was born, would have had a better life. She wouldn't have been screwed up by men, would have been happy and not raped when she was just a kid by her neighbor. Yes, I know what a Christian would say about it:"GOD" exists, the problem it's that people don't look for him. Excuse me? Do you know how many times my sister prayed to that great GOD and her life never ever improved. She had to face the same destiny as the bitch who gave us away, had to depend of selling her body for only 150 pesos which would be less than 5 dollars, so that she could eat, had 5 kids from different men and she couldn't even keep her kids because she couldn't raise them with the poverty she was submerged in.
I guess my life was slightly better apart from the psycho mistreat and the hitting from my dearest grandmother which was apparently so happy that I was brought to this family or the screams and insults from my druggie uncle which used to tell me to get out of the house, to find a husband and move.
2 Years later I still frustrated with all the fucking words that I had to hear for 17 years of my life. I don't even know how I could get away from that HELL alive. Yes, I know that other people have had worse situations, but that doesn't change my past and that doesn't changes the fact that since I was never loved from the beginning. its so fucking weird when somebody comes in peace to offer me his love. I can still get rid of the thinking, even thought it's hard. I don't remember since when exactly I decided to put myself on medication for my depression and my anxiety, and sometimes I can't see when I will spend more than a month without having a mental breakdown. I can't see the bright-side of everything that happened to me. I am not stronger than anyone who didn't go by the same. I am weaker. What I want, it's to finally accept the love that other people offer me, because if I can't do that, that means that all that my dear grandmother and my uncle, and all the boys from before, had told me was real. That means that I am crazy like the person who decided to give birth to me and give me away, and that means that I rather be dead than alive but not living. I wonder how I can learn to accept the love, that's all that I wonder.
I grew up not being loved, and knowing that the first person in my life, the one that was supposed to be by my side on my first moments, decided to give me away like a fucking gift or worse, an object. I always ask myself why people like her have to have kids, even though that question, if not asked, would take out the possibility that I would be in this world today, but I don't care, because even thought I am in this world... I feel so fucking incomplete, so maybe that's why I always attach myself to some kind of asshole, because I never knew what was to be loved in the first place, and now I am like a dog raised by a mistreating owner. A dog that now, needs time to accept love. This dog needs time to get accustomed to love, and be loved, and learn not to bite his new owner's hands.
There was a time that I went to my doctor, and when he asked me if I ever considered the possibility of killing myself. I felt like the world had fallen above me, cause I did, and I didn't want to ask that question. I ended up crying like a baby, crying and explaining my sorrows to my doctor, something that, when I was kid, innocent, stupid and forgiving, I would have never thought that I would be doing. What I did not say to my doctor was, that when I was 14 years old, I took my grandmother's pills wanting to die, but the stupid pills didn't kill me, they just made me vomit for a day and half of the other, and the only thing my DEAR grandma told me was, that I had to buy her a new bottle of pills cause she was aching. I remember me thinking about what a fucking bitch she was, she did not have enough with hitting me and telling me I was a bitch all my childhood, making me feel like if being adopted was my fucking fault. She also had to make me feel like she would have been so fucking happy If I would have died. I ended up going to a stupid Christian church to please her when I was 15 and I spent 2 years of my life trying to convince myself that GOD was real. What a fucking joke. Cause if he really existed, he would not permit that me and my older sister who is unfortunately the daughter of the crazy bitch who decided to give me away when I was born, would have had a better life. She wouldn't have been screwed up by men, would have been happy and not raped when she was just a kid by her neighbor. Yes, I know what a Christian would say about it:"GOD" exists, the problem it's that people don't look for him. Excuse me? Do you know how many times my sister prayed to that great GOD and her life never ever improved. She had to face the same destiny as the bitch who gave us away, had to depend of selling her body for only 150 pesos which would be less than 5 dollars, so that she could eat, had 5 kids from different men and she couldn't even keep her kids because she couldn't raise them with the poverty she was submerged in.
I guess my life was slightly better apart from the psycho mistreat and the hitting from my dearest grandmother which was apparently so happy that I was brought to this family or the screams and insults from my druggie uncle which used to tell me to get out of the house, to find a husband and move.
2 Years later I still frustrated with all the fucking words that I had to hear for 17 years of my life. I don't even know how I could get away from that HELL alive. Yes, I know that other people have had worse situations, but that doesn't change my past and that doesn't changes the fact that since I was never loved from the beginning. its so fucking weird when somebody comes in peace to offer me his love. I can still get rid of the thinking, even thought it's hard. I don't remember since when exactly I decided to put myself on medication for my depression and my anxiety, and sometimes I can't see when I will spend more than a month without having a mental breakdown. I can't see the bright-side of everything that happened to me. I am not stronger than anyone who didn't go by the same. I am weaker. What I want, it's to finally accept the love that other people offer me, because if I can't do that, that means that all that my dear grandmother and my uncle, and all the boys from before, had told me was real. That means that I am crazy like the person who decided to give birth to me and give me away, and that means that I rather be dead than alive but not living. I wonder how I can learn to accept the love, that's all that I wonder.
5.08.2017
Visitor
The fact of being just a visitor in your life doesn't make any sense to me. There's no case in visiting your lips and body once, twice and then never more, there's no sense in having you, if you're not going to call the next day. Is it appealing, maybe to you... to visit my body just once, twice and then never more? Why'd I always end up being just a visitor anyways? I am sick of it. I am ready to love and give myself completely, not only my body. I am willing to be tender and risk my heart, if I can be more than just...a body with no soul for somebody. I would be more than pleased. I would scream of happiness, and feel certainly peace. At last, I don't understand, and it's obnoxious to me, the truth that people can be just passengers on each others lives. Life it's shortly enough to be so insensible and I already stopped believing in the majority of things that supposedly exists but you can't see, but I don't seem to stop believing that someday, I will be more than just a visitor, and I will have more than just visitors but a roommate in this short life that I've been given.
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