What is wrong with me why am I feeling like this would it really mattered if I disappeared why do i feel so wrong what is happening to me why is there no middle no end no calm always in the sky or below the earth why am i so angry why am i so paranoid what is wrong with me what the fuck is wrong with me why cant i sleep why do i still eat even when I’m not hungry why cant i be better than this what. Is. Wrong. With. Me.

Old Photos

When I see a photo from one year ago ‘why can’t I look like that’ Three years ago  ‘why can’t I look like that’ Five years ago  ‘why can’t I look like that’ It only seems to get worse as the years progress  and I am not saying it is not my fault but with every single photo and flashback I feel distressed When I look at the old photos I know just behind the screen is that same girl looking back on photos before saying the same thing I am screaming now.  ‘Why can’t I look like that?’ I don’t hate all of me  just my arms, my stomach, my neck, my cheeks, my body.  I wish I could look at myself the way I look at others.  I thought once that I could love my body if someone else did but now I realize that it doesn’t matter how others look at me it is how I see myself and I have nothing but distain and agony for the person in the mirror.  I see her as a failure, a lost cause dragging herself through life to feel something.  I am so very evil to myself and I think that is because I know I could do something, anything to change it and yet I never fucking do  Looking at those photos a miserable feeling comes over me as I realize that I would go back to those horrible moments just to look like that one more time.  I know that is vain and pitiful but I am so tired of hating myself so genuinely all based solely on what number is on a scale.  I wish I could bring myself to do the things I need to do to find that love again for myself, but then I remind myself that even then I still thought the same as I do now.  I try to remind myself that I am beautiful, but the girl in the mirror makes me feel anything but.  It doesn’t matter what others see me as, but I want to be comfortable in my own body.  So for now, like a miserable worm I’ll just keep looking at the old photos and sitting in this uncomfortable misery that I seem to love to hate. 

A Burning Home

You showed me that calling someone home isn’t always going to have the same meaning And our home felt like a burning building.  You showed me that home with you felt like the sound of glass breaking felt like a prison, a prison in which I had the key to escape but could never find it. It felt like the end of our world, the one I created while you watched but still took credit for.  You felt like home but that home was condemned and dirty, with demons in the walls, you were the demon in those walls. You took so much pleasure in having power over me.  I called you a home You showed me that home could be agony  You showed me that home could be screaming and crying myself to sleep You showed me that I cannot call another love home You destroyed that for me and you will never lose sleep over it like I still do. 

I have no idea who I am  Deep down in my gut  I have tried but I can’t  And I tell myself it’s just all these changes but I cannot lie to myself and say I will move past this This guilt that I will never be happy because I will not let myself be happy Too comfortable in the misery of it all.  I crave things that I know will destroy me if I obtain it I cannot change it, I am tired of faking it, I am not here anymore I have told myself that I have no reason to be so upset, I have the things I have begged for. I am supposed to be happy but I feel numb and anxious. I wonder constantly how much longer of this life I am willing to brave I wonder if one tone change, door slam, conversation will throw me over the edge, I wonder if I am truly just unjustifiably hysterical.  I do not have a place to breathe in my own thoughts, take them as they are and go from there, I am unable to understand what has happened in my life.  I have aged centuries and I am only twenty two.  I am terrified of losing it all constantly but yet I want it all to end so that I can fall back into the chaos that embraces me with a warmth I can barely describe. I am unable to see who is looking back at me in the mirror anymore She is foreign to me, she is not me.  I do not know who is me anymore, I don’t think I ever truly have I want to long to look in a mirror again But that i guess, is my fault. I indulge my whims carelessly and I pay for them in full.  I have given and taken too much and now I have locked myself into a cycle of needing sweet words to keep myself going and not believing a single one, even if those words hold no weight I beg people to say them, I need them. I am desperately begging on my hands and knees that these words hold weight, I cannot fall from thousands of miles again. 

Climb in and hold me, my love 🕯️

Susan Sontag, I, etcetera: Stories  

Disgustingly Beautiful

I had been alone for so long I forgot how bittersweet being close to so many can be. I feel the warmth of conversation, I also feel the pull to retreat when I feel someone distancing. I wish I could say I was always happy to be so loved It is misery to feel suffocated with no place to truly be myself To feel I must always be what they want. To feel I must be perfect at all moments. I was taught to please everyone but myself. Oh how disgustingly wonderful it is to be loved. To know any moment I could feel the ripping pain of loss To know that it could all be for nothing See I’m tired of dating and talking stages I’m tired of small talk and being played with Commitment does not scare me, I know now I am afraid of losing a future I am afraid of that feeling I have felt before The kind that burns and aches for hours The tears that never end and the way my stomach burns  In those moments I felt like I could vomit from the pain It is beautiful to be soft and vulnerable  Until it isn’t When it is screaming fights and anger, resentment that bleeds in the silence When it is arguing and petty jabs I love the long conversations about the future  Until that future is a memory I love the passion of kissing  Until it is a peck that feels like getting complacent. Oh how gut wrenching it is to truly love someone I cannot put myself through another heartbreak but I love falling in love I cannot stand to feel the pain that tears me apart inside but I crave the feeling of another’s touch The feeling that someone sees me and feels warm and safe I am afraid that I have created a romance that I can never achieve. The burn in the moment is worth the price I pay  Until I have to pay for it. Oh how disgustingly wonderful it is to be loved.  To love someone so much I forget who I am I forget what I want. I will sit here and stare at our photos and beg you,  Please don’t break me Please don’t break me And how much I love the way someone can look at me and love what I hate so much. I will always wonder how someone could possibly love what I cannot see I want to love, and I want to love genuinely. I will forget that I can love And I will apologize when I do. Oh how beautifully painful it is to be loved  By one or many. Sometimes I feel lucky to have any.

Concerts of 2022

Aesthetic perfection | My chemical Romance | Nyxx | AFI | the birthday massacre

The Ballad of Lenore by Louis Boulanger, 1830

-William Wordsworth

𝚂𝚝. 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚗'𝚜 𝙲𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚕, 𝚅𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚊

𝙿𝚑. 𝙰𝚕𝚎𝚔𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚊 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖: 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚣𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛

Autumn of Mountain (1993) - Yuqi Wang

Giulio Aristide Sartorio, Allegorie della Storia d'Italia  (detail).

1908-1913.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BPva-cBjSlx/

Havent posted in a loooong time something of my own but hereee