who will pay reparations on my soul?

So. It's been a few years. Last time I was here I was a completely different person. To be honest six months ago I was a completely different person. And to be even MORE honest I was a completely different person yesterday and will be different, yet again, tomorrow. Someone close to me told me who I spent the day with today pointed out how strange I had been acting and how I've changed. All I could say is that I'm acting more like the person I've always wanted to be but at the same time been afraid of. I've had the time, recently, to get to know myself and actually start to like myself a little for the first time in my entire life. It's a slow process but every day it gets a little easier. I still struggle with feeling useless, unmotivated, and like a complete failure. But if I let myself fall into the trap that those feelings eventually lure me into I'll never get anywhere. I feel like for the past 7 years I've been stuck in a hole underground struggling to find air and barely breathing. Now I breathe deep and take advantage of every moment I can. One day at a time. 

emptiness. who will pick up my wreckage? i should but how? who but me can classify it and describe it? can i even? everything's a mess because nothing i do is good enough. i'm not the first victim of this sad crime but that doesn't take away the weight it puts on my body and mind. i'm not at all at peace. my mind jumbles with thoughts but at the same time i trip over my words. i mumble and get nervous. some people are good at being humans, others aren't. no, it's not "not that hard" because it's hard as fuck.

No one gets it. No one will every completely get it. You will never be able to fathom the amount of love in my heart that has been cooped up for years- more desperate every moment to explode. Explosions in the sky, explosions caused by "why." Why is nothing pure like snow, like gold? Screw all this searching and wasting time. WHY can't I be surrounded by the pure air, the ocean air the purest air of all. I feel so trapped in these buildings, layers and layers of concrete but lacking concrete love and belief. Soon the layers will tumble down and all that will be left is the green and the ocean air to restore our faith in...realness. Reality. REAL. No one knows what that is.

the olive society

meet me in montauk

or somewhere in between

fools rush in

Cuantas veces me van a tener que romper?

cuantas veces voy a dejar que me pisen?

Soy la alfombra, y solo quise ser tu sombra

Mi cuerpo esta cansada

mis ojos no descansan

Mi mente esta enganada

y no se como escapar este laberinto.