I wake up everyday at 9 am. I stay in bed for 3 more hours because i have no motivation to get up. I have nothing to do. In a family of four, i find my comfort and my sanity in one. One i don’t live with.

I aimlessly walk towards the coffee machine. I stare blankly at an empty living room. I think about my father. Where is he? I get depressed, the empty hole in my stomach begins to grow, but my depression quickly turns to aggression. I want to go back to sleep. I can’t control my emotions. but i have to act strong. if i have a mental breakdown, so will my sister, and my mother will follow too. Who do i lean on when i can’t count on myself? i’m supposed to be the strong one in this disastrous family of 4. I’m contemplating if i’m really as strong as i thought.

i might be.

i walk around for the rest of my days in silence.  my friends and family ask me what’s wrong. if you’re my friend i’ll say nothing at all, you don’t need to know what’s going on, I dont want to express myself. Your opinion does not matter to me.

If you’re a part of my family, you will get yelled at. my aggression these days seem to have no limit. Your opinion pisses me off.

I know i’m meant for greatness, but where do i go from here? so many voices ringing in my ear.





4 years ago, my friend invited me to a sleepover. my first sleepover that had both girls and guys in it. i was so excited. we were playing truth or dare, getting drunk and drinking just for the fuck of it.

they dared me to kiss him.

i did.

my ex, my first love, my first heartbreak.

it started off as a peck, but it turned into a make out session.

i loved it. he was definitely my weakness. i’m not sure if i loved it because i was in love with him once upon a time, or because he was an insanely good kisser, or because i was drunk out of my mind.

1 hour later he hits on my close friend. i’m ashamed, embarrassed that i even gave him the opportunity to take advantage of my emotions and my attraction to him like that.

he passes out on the bed. i had no where to sleep. everyone’s asleep. i was so tired.

my sister was drunk too, passed out on the couch. i just wanted to sleep.

he scotches over and tells me to sleep beside him, so i did. secretly i wanted to, but i didnt touch him. he didn’t touch me.

i didn’t even notice. i was dead asleep.

i feel a tug on my shorts, and aggressive kisses on my neck. i woke up to him in his boxers. i couldn’t open my eyes all the way, i thought i was having a bad dream. i went back to sleep and ignored my hallucinations until i felt a tug on my pijama shorts again.

he was trying to undress me, with my back towards him. he wanted to force me into anal sex. he knew i wasn’t that kind of girl, i know he knew. i felt his hard dick on my back, and i immediately panicked. wtf was i supposed to do? i already teased him by hooking up with him. it was my fault i led him on like that, but i was asleep. i don’t do anal, i swear he knew.

i panicked and told him i had to freshen up in the bathroom. he told me to hurry, he told me he missed me. i never felt like that before, i’ve never felt so scared in my entire life. how could he do that to me. he was the first guy i ever fell in love with. he cheated on me 4 times. 4 fucking times. i was so in love with him i forgave him for the first two; the way he used to look at me had me convinced he was in love with me too.

i felt the cold bathroom floor against my thighs, and it made its way up my spine. how could he do that to me. how come none of my friends noticed. why didnt they tell him to fuck off. why doesn’t anyone protect me from guys like him? my bestfriend and my sister were in the same room, and they both didn’t say anything. they both didn’t take my side. my best friend told everyone what happened. he made me seem like a liar. i didn’t tell anyone about what happened for a while until i couldn’t keep it in any more. but the more people i told, the more i realized how much they didn’t believe me. even my closest friends, my sister, the people i thought who would always have my back, they just didn’t believe me.

he is known to be an asshole. how could they believe him over me?

this happened 4 years ago, and i still can’t seem to get over it. i’m scared to be touched. i wanna be in control of my emotions. i wanna let out positive energy so that it can come back and give me something good in this life. i can’t hold onto anything without finding a reason to let go, and its making the empty hole in my heart even bigger. i dont know what to do.


there’s an empty whole in my stomach. it’s a weird king of hole, it’s supposed to make me feel nauseous and alone (according to popular belief). but its not always there. it’s there when i hear a sad song, or when i’m touched reading a book or watching a movie. it’s there when i think of j, and it’s there when i’m not. it’s there when i’m hungry and after i eat. its pretty much there when i’m alone. if i focus on it, the hole transforms into a lump making its way up my throat, and then forms tear drops that threaten to fall.

i don’t know if this is a sign of depression, or loneliness. but i do know it means i’m not happy. cigarettes take it away as much as it bring it back. they take away the stress, and helps it pile up too. i want to cut down, but i don’t feel like i deserve to be here. i’ve hurt so many people intentionally, but not really meaning it. its my anger problems, i blow up at people when they hurt my pride.

fuck this pride nonesense, we’re all just trying to get by. all our hearts go back to white no matter how black it gets.

we all want eveyrthing but can’t pinpoint it when asked what it is. but for now, i just want person. like a christina yang to merideth grey.


warm tears vs cold tears

fast tears vs slow tears

have you ever thought about the difference?

why warmth is associated with passion and why cold refers to bitchyness?

maybe its because there actually is a difference, and that’s how you can spot a person who is crying from their heart vs a person who’s crying for the fuck of it. don’t get me wrong, crying is good for you (so i hear), but how can you tell the genuine and non-genuine cry-ers apart?

that’s how. when they come strolling really fast down your face that theres no way from stopping them. blinking to set them free wont even make a difference, they’re just pouring. they feel hot on your cheeks because you have so much anger, or sadness, or any emotion in general, you have so much pain bottled up inside you that its raw emotion falling from your eyes. when they go swollen and ur eyes are blood-shot red. when it feels like someones suffocating you. you don’t even have to be making that much noise while crying, they could be deadly silent hot quick tears.

how do you fix someone so broken

how do you fix them if that someone is actually you

playing with fire

i am literally playing with fire. looking at this from an astrologist point of view, both of the hearts i’m playing with fall under the fire-sign element. I, myself, am a fire sign too. i used to think we were the best, and that i wanted to marry a fire sign once i got older. now i have two wrapped around my finger and i can’t seem to fall for either one. i’ve been on countless dates, stared at them many times, but deep down i feel nothing. they’re not even boring to be with, or hard on the eyes.

i’m an aries, and they say aries are hard to get. that used to be incredibly not true until this point in my life. i’ve already wrote about j, and how he still has a piece of my heart that he hasn’t returned, and i’m not keen on wasting the last piece i have left on a sagitarrius or a leo. they’re careless, and unemotional. i live off passion, and eye contact, and the little things, while they both live off grand gestures and general ideas. J’s a scorpio, and we clicked on every single level. We had so much to talk about. Maybe now i just expect everyone to fall under the same category as him. fucking water sign. makes the girl fall head-over-heels for them then run away like pussies. i’ve tried to delete him from my life, the last time i saw him was a month ago, and he didn’t even look me in the eye or give me a proper hello hug. he didn’t ask how i was doing, or what i’ve been up to lately. he saw a homeless on the street, went to buy him food and left me to rot with the rest of our group of friends while i tried not to look at him. he spent most of the time talking to the homeless, and feeding him, while i spent my time stabbing daggers into his back with my eyes. i went home that night and sent him a message, telling him how he promised he would be there for me no matter what, whenever i needed him, and how he wasn’t a man of his word. he took it the wrong way, and blew up on me.

This was his reply.

“Don’t take this personally or in a wrong way, but i’ve never actually been there for you. You wouldn’t really know anything about me except what i chose to tell you, and vise versa. the faster you realize that the easier its going to be to realize that you shouldn’t put your trust in me. Try not to care so much, cause i really don’t.”

how am i supposed to open up or feel passion again after that broke what was left of my big heart into pieces all over again??!? i wasn’t even capable of hurting him back. i respected his honesty and ended the conversation. he told me to “have a nice day”…… and i said “u too.”… can you fucking imagine that. i wanna yell at him, force him to look at me, and feel the passion in his glare the way that i KNOW is there. i wanna feel him close to me, and hear his heart beat faster as we get even closer. right before i slap him across the face and tell him how much of an asshole he is. i wanna kiss away his pain, i wanna be there for him, i wanna tell him i’ll never let him feel lonely ever again, but he won’t let me. he calls me selfish and a drama queen instead, and i don’t know what i did to deserve such titles.


this post was supposed to be about the sag and the leo. i got carried away with the fucking complexity of the scorpio.

my bad.

guess my answer is pretty clear.

punishing loved ones

my sister and i have been having a bad streak lately. all we do is fight. i contemplate whether i should get out of bed every morning, knowing she probably woke up before me and is waiting to give me a piece of her mind in the kitchen. her 4-month boyfriend is taking a toll on her. he’s everything i wouldn’t want her to date. and yet she’s still infatuated, and for that matter, extremely week towards him. if he wrongs her, she begins bawling. i’ve never seen her cry so hysterically over something so stupid.

i’m not really interested in her life and drama, but right now she’s getting the silent treatment, cause i am certainly not a punching bag. surely her punches don’t bruise and aren’t nearly as painful as a paper-cut, its still considered a punch, and its the thought that she wants to hit me. she can argue with her boyfriend and bawl all she wants, i’m not gonna be there for her anymore. she ignores me when i’m at my lowest, and i’m supposed to be ok. i’ve always defended her and haave her back, but she’s never had mine.

once she found out i was mopping over a guy that just yelled at me and threw me in the dumpster, she fucking called me a retard, telling me that i should’ve saw it coming. no one wants to hear “i told you so” when they’re already feeling like shit.

this is my punishment to her. let her mope, bawl, yell, scream, and whatever else without getting the attention she seeks from me. i’m not sure how i’m gonna be judged for this but she deserves it.

now i need a cigarette.

i hope you don’t think this post’s about you j

have you ever had such a deep conversation with someone that you instantly feel like you want them to stay in your life for good? he wasn’t even that good looking, but in my eyes he was fucking sexy. even the length of his eye lashes intimidated me. long, black, and hypnotizing. the little chuckle he made when i made him believe that nothing else in the world matter except him. he didn’t believe in me, or trust me for that matter, but in the moment i made him happy. now that we’ve stopped talking, i see glimpses of him everywhere, and that on its own is psychotic behaviour. its 6 months later since we last spoke, and i still think about it every day. we used to talk day and night til 4 am in the morning, sometimes til 7 just cause neither one of us knew how to shut up. he used to sing to me, and now every time i hear the song all of me by john legend i start crying. i started seeing the number 69 everywhere, just cause we talked about it once and both confessed that we both wanted to try it. he made me feel that way. he made me feel like i could do anything with him, even though i was physically and sexually inexperienced, and am still a virgin. i felt so comfortable in opening up to him, like he couldn’t hurt me even if he wanted to. it seems like every time i look at my phone, it’s on 69 percent charge. every time i look up while walking, i see the number 69 in my face. i can’t help but wonder if that means he still thinks about me too, if he wants to call me and tell me how sorry he is for pushing me away, and how he can’t take all those lonely nights he’s had up north in the cold, how it was impossible to find someone like me. he took a piece of my heart, and my theory is that my hearts mushy, just like clay. you can mold it and carve it into whatever you want. he took that piece of it (more than half of it i would say) and squished it in his delicate hands. he’s molding it the way he wants. he’s making me become a person i’m not. even if i get that piece of my heart back, how long is it going to take for me to mold it back into looking like my once functioning and perfectly shaped heart? he probably lots bits and pieces of it on the way too and now i’ll never be complete. he took that piece and i trusted him to transform it into a beautiful sculpture, maybe a swan or a rose, or two being performing 69 perhaps, and instead he turned it into nothing – an irregular shape of nothing.

i can’t blame him. he told me he loved me and i blew up in his face. what kind of sane person does that. i accused him of lying and interrogated him as if he’s just killed someone. the idea of someone being capable of loving a monster like me is too foreign for me to accept. i rejected it immediately, and in the process, i had accused him of murder and yet it was me who actually killed him. he took steps back and ever since then nothings been the same. 6 months of mindfucking and lonely nights later, i think i loved him too.

they say distance makes the heart grow fonder, or forgetful. and i wish in my case it was the latter, i don’t think i can love him more than i do now, with no physical contact or cheesy awkward text messages to keep my psychotic thoughts in tact either.

dec 11 2014

I went from wanting one guy to obsessing over another (both long distance over-the-phone relationships), to being ditched by both for their past lovers. How does one even get over their ex? i know how to do it, but for others it seems to be impossible. i just wish i could find a guy who isn’t obsessing over his ex. they stalk her facebook activity, her twitter profile, and every time she posts a picture on instargram, he obsesses over the picture and creeps on the likers and commenters. If she pisses him off, he goes and tweets about it, probably on purpose knowing that she creeps his profile too. the worst part is he probably lied to her, cheated on her, treated her like shit, but at the end of the day she’s the one that has his heart. i don’t understand. then i come along, like the idiot i am, and he starts lying to me too, probably wanting me to be his side bitch. and i don’t even chose them, they chose me, like i have the word “forever side-bitch zoned” written on my forehead. like “hey you’re an asshole? COME TALK TO ME I LOVE ASSHOLES”.

funny part is i confronted him about it once too. he told me i was being psychotic. apparently, everything i do is psychotic, even the way i talk to my mom and twin sister. i’m also immature and can’t control my emotions, making me extremely sensitive. seems like the sensitive ones are always the target. i know i have anger issues, and i know little things get to me. he even replied to a snapchat i sent when i was hungover and told me i looked like “shit” THEN apologized and continued to emphasize on how i looked “nasty”. so i went from having a migraine from a fucking hangover, looking for someone to distract me from the headache, to being insulted. when i confronted him about it, i was suddenly labeled childish, immature, and theres that word again, psychotic.


so now you explain to me, how someone can insult me, and yet still claim to care for me deeply. explain to me how he can still friend zone me, yet tell me that i’m his weakness. explain to me how he never sub-tweets me, and is always subtweeting his ex. tell me i’m crazy for believing him, tell me he’s a liar and that i’m an idiot for thinking that i’m actually special. tell me why i believed him, why every time he texts me my heart skips a beat, and the first time we kissed i thought i was dreaming. tell me that i didn’t mean anything to him, like i was just another person he talked to and probably has a whole list of girls he’s trying to make fall for him. tell me i’m too sensitive, and attract psychopaths.

but then once i think about it, maybe the reason i attract these psychopaths is because i am one too. the amount of energy you put out into this world, it the kind you get back. i’m not the most innocent person, i have played around with people’s emotions before. now its my turn. its my turn to feel the kind of pain i made others feel. karma.

i’m not a victim, i’m human. and all humans are psychotic in their own fucked up way.