So let go, let go.

Yesterday may have been one of the hardest days of my life;
I had to sit through therapy and listen to my mom's cries about how she feels that she's failed me because I don't smile anymore. As much as would like to say that isn't true, I can't help but to feel like she's one of the reasons why I feel so fucking numb. I've been blaming myself for so long and I'm just so sick of it.
She can't seem to remember that she pushed me under the bus when it came to my other brothers and sisters. "I'm not your mother," "This is all your fault," "I'm going to kill you." All of that was thrown out of the window when she revealed her most inner thoughts. I felt bad for her and I was mad at myself for it.

People make mistakes. That's not a good enough excuse anymore.

It's common for someone who has been abused to abuse someone else. I'd hate to be just like my mom.

Life isn't easy. Lord knows I know that.

Your communication barrier has to be let down. No. I've slaved myself building it up my entire life and there is no way in hell I'm going to stop now.

It's sad that the only thing stopping you from acting on your thoughts is money. It is sad.

We're going to have to do this, for her sake and yours. I'm done.

I revealed that I was sick of it. I have only small amount of hope left because my mom did a good job at degrading it. There was so much more I could've said but I refused to do it. I didn't want to hurt my mom.


Next stop- a meeting with a psychiatrist.

what you see matters to me

i have this thing where i refuse to look at any mirrors during the night but it's slowly crept up on daylight hours...guess i realized that there isn't much to look at.
i hate my hair.
i hate my skin.
i hate my eyebrows.
i hate my teeth.
i hate my lips.
i hate my nose.
i hate that my eyes notice the smallest imperfections.
i hate that my eyes water when i look at my reflection.
i hate that i am not comfortable with what i see.

Honestly, i can't remember the last time i looked at myself in a mirror.

i always look tired.
i always look like me.

What if the banner falls and the presenters are suffocated?

i try to refrain from making too much out of nothing. but i then end up convincing myself that that nothing is actually something becuase if it weren't then i wouldn't make too much of it ...mostly because i strongly believe that i am just not that type of person.
that then leads to an absurd amount of hours in a mind-fuck battle between Gen. WhatIf and Sgt. ThenThatMeans. don't ask me who wins though 'cause i wouldn't be able to give you a straight answer.
admitting that i am a mess would be an understatement. but frankly, i don't know how else to put it. and plus, everyone knows how that feels like so i know i won't stand alone in that.

here is where the silver lining lies;
the wonders of being transported into a universe of impossible possibilities is unleashed and accepted.
the best part about it is that you don't even have to try to make it happen. It's JUST THERE.
it's a miracle, a miracle!

because i can't afford a voice recorder

there was a time when not a single thing bothered me. commands barked by my mother didn't break the sound barrier so i never got to hear them. taunts from girls smaller than me in grade school made me glad i was one of the boys. i never cried. i never said it hurt. i never, not once, let any living thing get the best of me.

you see, after the age of six, i left behind any form of incompetence to hang along side the belt i swore would take me to a better place. that doesn't make much sense, does it? in other words, i tried to choke myself with a belt i found in my parents' bedroom floor. i wasn't trying to kill myself. i was just curious to see what would happen if i stopped breathing. i knew what death was but at the time i thought it was just something my parents made up in order to make me want to get there faster. i can't blame them.

things were fine then. it kinda seems like i had nothing going for me but i was rich when it came to motivation. "I'll show you!" i was like a damn record player. that's all i ever said to myself. that was my comeback to everything.

the highlight of my education was in sixth grade. man, i felt on top of the world. i was one of the smartest kids in class and i loved it. i had set my heart on YouSeeElAye and there was nothing that was going to stop me. but we all know how that turned out.

high school went by quick. and now I'm here.
trial and error; story of my life.

I have some things I need to work on. I'm not a negative person. I think I'm just realistic. I can cross the line though.

I'm a person of few words (hence the short autobiography)

can i get get get to know know know you better better baby

it isnt much.

little shadow

you don't even know
you don't even know
you don't even know
you don't even fucking know.

there is a seriousness in all this.
tough shit, huh?



old habits to be restored in a few minutes
and in a few minutes everything will be
forever and ever,
an indication that
maybe, just maybe,
my identity will lie in either
door number one
door number two
or door number three.


here she is;
packed fists
blood-shot eyes
trembling voice
broken spirit


welcome back,
dull body.

a mindful of darkness awaits.

According to dreammoods.com, I am experiencing some confrontation in my waking life

Last night, I had two strange dreams. Okay, who am I kidding. Most of my dreams are weird but these two take the cake.

First dream: I was walking up what looked like the bleachers in my high school gym while singing a song by Adele (i believe it was Chasing Pavements). And as I'm making my way to the top, every single person I made contact with, in one way or another, throughout my high school years walked past me. My friends just looked at me like they had no idea who i was. I kept singing.

Second dream: I was in a large house. the lights were off and i didn't bother to turn them on as i went inside the bathroom. i look outside and see people running, like seriously running in different directions. a man pounds on the window i'm looking out of and begs me to get out of there and run. i hesitate but i do as he said. i was being shot at by some people in an army looking truck. i needed to find a hiding place fast so i climbed the tallest tree i could find. all of a sudden, i end up in an elementary school during recess. A lady calls in all the kids and orders them to get under their desks and start reading. she pulls out a gun and starts to shoot every single kid, making her way around the classroom without hesitation. a little blond boy begs her not to do to him what she had done to half of his classmates. she tells him to sit down and calmly asks the other kids to look up for a moment and shoots him in the head, just like the others, in front of everyone. nobody cries.

What am I afraid of? Is it really that hard for me to let go of the past? Am I hopeless?