you.

me: well, you can put your legs on top of mine.

you: i already knew that was an option.


i miss you.

september 16.

no heartbeat in sight..

running on the freeway, watching the cars go by past me at near death speed. going nowhere. the trees dance with me as i slowly walk past them, inhaling all their greeness and oxygen they provide me. its leaves diving on my head like rice on a wedding back in the day. the road provides shelter for my eyes, ears, and nose, leaving objects just thrown there or left there. i’m afraid soon, someone will find my corpse. freshly deceased or completely decomposed. either still smelling of warm vanilla with a hint of dirt and maybe gasoline, or smelling of death. blood and rotten insides about to be stolen by a vulture or the devil himself. coz if i were god, i wouldn’t wanna take such a person with such a rank stench..

september 18.

the wind lullabyes me to sleep.

as the birds serenade me with their whistling beaks.

the clouds cover the sun like a fort of blankets make children their home.

the weather is cool and perfect.

and the wind hits me from the east.

kissing my cheek with its cool, soft lips..

september 27.

ice cubes from an empty glass..

when the echoes in my room start to fade and the silence in my ears volumes up..

when the ringing in my brain loses beat and the beating in my heart loses rythm..

i will see your face in my veins and your name in my chest..

the sky will turn red and the clouds will become vapor..

oceans will puddle at my feet and cascades will fall from our eyes..

and i will sink to bottom with the rocks and the fish..

and fill my lungs with your scent..

i can survive on just the thought of you..

september 30.

the thunder makes me miss more

and the rain conceals the tears cascading down my chin

pouring nostalgia.

the sky is nothing but the melancholic and bittersweet taste in my tongue,

that which i can’t seem to get rid of.

the wind hits with violence, breaking me down.

sdfhlaksdjfhklasfhaksfhasdklfjhsadkflhsadkfhskfhskfhaskdfhskadjff

October 17.

someone’s eyes.

your eyes.

the thought of them makes me shiver.

what is it about them that makes my bones quiver?

and make my tongue trip at its own words.

and make me want to fight off your demons with swords.

their sight makes me forget to breathe.

its intensity makes me die peacefully.

they’re hypnotizing.

i get lost in them.

like a labyrinth, one you don’t want to find the exit to.

one where i can live in forever.

i’ll live off their color.

off their essence.

off their beauty.

i’ll never die, for such beauty never fades.

never ends.

it keeps flourishing.

each passing day more precious.

killing those of us fortunate to be in their prescence

by taking our breath away.

it’s the best way to live and die.

lost in your eyes.

pillow.

i love that it's the blue one. i love that i'm gonna wake up to that scent for a few days and when you come back and then leave again, your smell is going to be there, penetrated on my pillow.

missing.

yes, i do miss Joann, but i only miss Joann because she doesn't hurt, because that wound healed ages ago. because we had our good times, but mostly because she's who i think of when i don't wanna think of you. when i don't want to cry over you. when i don't want to hurt. i think of her to keep myself from crying.

your song.

i'd never said i love you to anyone, until you.

cry.

goddamnit, i miss you. i know we didn't have anything and whatever we had was not as important to you as it was for me, but i miss you. and it hurts. i've been doing well on not missing you. anything, not your texts, our conversations, your voice. trying or pretending to miss other people, people that don't hurt anymore, just so i don't miss you but today, right now, this fucking moment, i miss you. just you. i miss going to sleep and thinking of you. dreaming of you. i miss our i love yous. whether they meant shit or not, i miss them. your awkwardness the first time we spoke on the phone. and eventhough i can count the times i've seen you with one hand, i miss you being in my presence. your face, especially your eyes that kill me. i miss you being the only thing on my mind. you having all my attention. ten thousand texts in two months. texting all day, aiming all night. talking to no one but you. loving no one else, just loving you. and i miss having your attention. thinking you were in love with me. i just miss what those two months were. everything about them, even the stupid, senseless arguments we had. i miss it all.

the playlist of death.

that's what i'm listening to. the playlist that hurts. that kills. the one that reminds me of you and just how fucked up shit is these days. i hate when she's sad, it makes me sad too but it's the kind of sadness i can't handle.

for good.

i hope the feeling really does goes away this time and doesn't come back any time soon.

M.

"i really missed your kisses too. and i don't like that you don't sleep but i love that you'd rather be talking and kissing and cuddling all night with me, than sleep. even when you have to get up in two hours."

i love that you make the time to come over even when i know you're exhausted.

no one knows your heart better than you.

a girl.

messages.

that message will haunt me for the rest of my life.

just friends.

M: so what are you?
me: we're friends.
M: friends? you're actually friends.
me: yes, that's all we've been and all we can be.

lo mismo.

eso si duele, y duele feo. que le digan a otra persona lo mismo que te decian a ti. y mas cuando es alguien que parece ser solo, no quiero decir broma, pero algo asi. que facil salen las palabras, que dificil es darte cuenta que fuiste algo muy poco para tal persona.

blogspot.

dear blogspot, i think it's unfair that people can follow anonymously. i'd like to know who that "anonymous girl" is and why she's following my shit. tumblr is down and shit's going on my head. too many emotions at the same time. not knowing anything like usual. ugh.

...

i don't know what i'm feeling.

in the morning i'll be with you but it'll be a different kind.

she was half naked on top of me, i was fully clothed.
my hand being the only thing touching the covered part of her body.
i wasn't allowed to move or touch any other part of her.
she starts moving back and forth on my legs and on my hand.
it starts slowly but shortly begins to pick up pace.
her breathing begins to intensify, her mouth opens just enough to see her tongue, a tongue that i want nothing but to have mine dance with it.
she looks straight into my eyes, breathing heavily and giving me a mischievous look and grin.

this is a part of her i've never seen, she used to be so innocent, so insecure about sex.
she keeps moving on my hand.
i move my fingers inside of her to help with the pleasure but she tells me to stop.
i try to run my other hand up her leg, i am denied. i am not allowed to do anything.
it's both frustrating and exciting at the same time.
she leans in to what seems like a kiss, but goes for my neck, kissing it and biting it. the goosebumps on my body could rip clothes.
now my breathing begins to intensify and swallowing saliva has become a bit difficult.
i can feel her heart beating heavily against my body, like a hammer.
she runs her cold hand up my warm back and digs her nails in deep, drawing blood, i felt my skin tear. her movement becomes faster and... deeper.

she grabs my hand and places it it around her neck. i say no. she doesn't budge.
i've never been able to do this with her. never choking, never anything semi-rough. to me she's delicate, fragile. this is why all of this is so surreal.
she gives me this demanding look and a demanding "AIDEE". i cave in.
she tells me to tighten my grip. i do as i am told.
everything after this moment is the most exciting thing in the world.
both of my hands are occupied at this point... but now i have some control.
i move my fingers inside of her, i feel her body spasm violently and she moans in instant pleasure.
she leans in to kiss me and we share a deep, passionate kiss. our tongues waltzing beautifully together.

i open my eyes to have a good look at her face. she's not the girl i met two years ago. she's no longer a girl. there isn't much fragility to her.
i was always afraid i was gonna break her, both physically and emotionally.
i did, at some point, bend her emotionally, but never broke.
she's still delicate, but women are delicate.
i close my eyes when i feel her body spasming and trembling.
i'm still multitasking.
she bites my lip and that's cue to let go of her neck, so i do.
she lets out a long, beautiful moan and she orgasms on my fingers.
she kisses me one last time and lays her half naked body on top of me, breathing heavily on my bruised neck.
this had never happened with her. the way her body trembled, it was unbelievable, unwordly. i didn't know how to feel about it because i didn't do much at first, but i finished it.
she lays her head on my chest and i can feel her face smiling. i smile and let out a little laugh.
she looks at me with her smile and kisses me.
we cuddle all day long.

we've never felt this way at the same time.

we were just two 23 year olds with broken hearts sharing lovely, painful memories. sitting in a smokey, dark room, filling our lungs with eachother's second hand smoke. listening to "dreamy electro" and nearly in tears as the stories progressed. mine, completely innocent, since there really isn't much to tell. his, full of romance and opening up. i never want to see him this way again. he's sad. he tears up. he's heart broken. we've never felt this way at the same time, we hadn't, until today. a much needed time with my best friend. deep conversations with a spike of our usual vulgar ways, cigarettes in the shoebox, a vanilla candle, a lamp and good music, it was a good night.

i am a mess today.

some days i wish she didn't exist in my life, at least that way, some day i could realize she was never here to begin with.

but then again, she is the best thing that's come into my life and eventhough it hurts, i want her in my life.

i don't know how to make this stop. my head is always constantly battling itself.

this feeling again.

i hate it. i will never stop saying how much i hate it. sometimes it just comes and goes, most of the times it comes and stays. i want it to go and never come back.

once more.

i don't know how much you cared back then but i'm sure it wasn't killing you, and i don't think you care much now.

but i'm sorry i never fought for you when you told me you wanted a friendship from me only. i was consumed by thoughts of you and him that made me want to rip my head off. and all i thought i was, was a perfect candidate for your loneliness. like i was just renting a space in your head or heart until he came back. i was upset. i still am. extremely upset. upset is actually an understatement. but i am sorry for not fighting for you. but don't think it was because i didn't think it was worth it, because it was. i just didn't know what to do and i kill myself every day thinking maybe there was something i could have done. i don't think there was but now i'll never know. i die a little each day knowing i am no longer what i was to you, even if for a minute. even if it wasn't real. i die. i die knowing that i will never be what you are to me. and i die because i should have tried. even if it was a battle i couldn't win. i should have done something. i just felt hopeless and didn't know what to do. i'll forever hate myself for it. and if there is one thing i could take back, it's that. i want you and if i knew what i could do to make you mine, i would do it. in a heart beat. i want to fight for you, even if it's too late, even if you don't want me to because chances are there's not much to be done. but i love you and there isn't anything in the world that i want more than you.

because i hadn't felt this shitty in a couple of weeks.

i feel like shit. i don't even fucking know why, i just feel like shit right now.

this is my last one.

i'm stopping now. for good.

una conversacion con mi madre.

ma: que tienes?
yo: nada.
ma: (mueve mi pelo atras de mi oreja) entonces por que estas asi?
yo: (llorando) no se.
ma: que paso?
yo: (muevo la cabeza diciendo que no pasa nada.)
ma: deja de llorarle, deja de clavarte una estaca en el corazon todos los dias, por favor. deja de hacerlo. dejala ir. no es para ti. entiendelo. deja de llorarle ya. deja de sufrir. ella no es para ti. entiendelo, no es como tu. nadie vale la pena que le llores una sola lagrima. nadie. ya, aidee, ya.
yo: yo se que no es para mi. y ya la deje ir, pero eso no quiere decir que no me duela. me duele, y me duele mucho.
ma: yo se que te duele pero entonces deja de pensar en ella todo el dia. tienes que cortar todo tipo de comunicacion. ya no le hables. no le mandes mensajes. olvidala. deja que se vaya. vive tu vida sin ella. no es para ti. que voy hacer contigo? tu eres fuerte, no se por que estas asi.
yo: yo tampoco.


nadie me entiende, y nadie me entedera.

past.

i've written about this before but..

i find comfort in going back to the past. i find that comfort by knowing that at the moment something went wrong and i wanted to die, i didn't. even when i was sure i was going to. when the pain was agonizing and all i wanted was for it to end. it comforts me that i didn't. that i didn't die. that i'm here right now, alive and kicking. it comforts me because these past weeks all i've wanted is to die, to curl up and fade away. knowing that this is a familiar feeling soothes me in a strange way. because i know i'll get through this. however painful it is, i will get past it and move on. and yes, it's gonna hurt for longer but i'm prepared for it. i know i will be okay eventually.

the past is the only place i feel safe because, well, it's the past. whatever hurt already hurt and it hurts no more. it won't hurt again.

i'd like to take you to a place i know, my black hearted.

I can't give you anything that anyone else can't, and this is true. All I can provide is my sour heart and bitter hands, although it isn't enough. A kiss from you will sweeten up my salty tears and fuck me up even more. I smell you everywhere.

moving on,

i will make "moving on" a fucking habit.

10-04-2010

i'm assuming this was written sometime in the morning, around 2am.

understanding that as far as we got was as far as we'll get, made me realize, that this was really it. that's shit's done with and there's no way to change it, so it's time to move on.


and this was written at night or something.

i wanna be in love with you as long a i have to. i want to cry for you forever. i don't want to meet anyone. i don't want a hand to hold if it's not yours. i don't want to look at any girl's legs. all i want is you. but i don't think i can have just a little. i want all of you. your body and soul. but mostly, your heart. you're the only song i want to sing. the only book i want to read. only movie i want to see. the perfect instrument and the only one i want to play. my pen bleeds your name on my heart made of paper.

these days, those days.

i used to know everything.

some time.

if i could do anything to make you happy i would. if i could give him to you, i would. i'd do anything for you to not hurt. even if i did. i hurt more when i know you're hurting. i wish i could take the pain for you. i wish i could take care of you. put you in a bubble and not let anything or anyone hurt you. fuck.

and a full moon too.

and i'll keep talking shit about a pretty sunset until i find one as beautiful as you.

Samantha.

again, you. i wish my heart had stayed with you. i don't mind hurting over you. well, i don't anymore but i never did mind the pain of loving your and you not loving me. i wish i could see you one more time. just see you with my two, semi-blind, eyes. i miss you and i will always love you. you had my heart first.

me too.

and you are too good for me too.

Dear,

you don't know me and i know very little about you. this is about the woman i love but i will never have. you're an idiot. you have let go of the most beautiful, wonderful person your stupid fucked up eyes will ever see. how can you be so dumb? how can you let her go? are you blind? do you have no sense of feeling. no one will love you like she does. no one will embrace all that you are. kiss you the way she does. you won't find another girl who will cherish all that you are, with your stupidity and assholeness. no one will. how did you let her go? why'd you cause her pain, make her suffer. you are not even worthy of her tears. of her time. and still, she gave you all of that. she wanted to give you the world even if you weren't willing to give her the same. all she wanted was you. insignificant you. you couldn't appreciate a magnificent woman. i hope one day you want her back. and i hope to god she doesn't. that she makes you cry and go through one hundred times what she did. that when you want her back, she's happily in love with another boy. you don't deserve her. she was always too good for you. for everyone. but especially you. you took her for granted and i hope one day you realize how much you lost. she's worth more than just the world, she's worth the entire universe and you could have had that.

past. present. future.

people say to live in the now. to forget about the past and not think about the future. i can't do that. the past comforts me and so does the future. the past, because it's shit i've gone through. good or bad. the good because it happened and i was happy and the bad because it was shit and i lived through it and i'm okay, i guess. as okay as one can be. the future, because i need some sort of assurance that shit's gonna be okay. that whatever is bothering me will soon fade and i will be okay. i can't live in the now because the now fucking sucks.

the whole world should.

why the whole world isn't falling at your feet is beyond my comprehension.

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

ugh. when will i learn to not lurk on people's old shit. i'm hurt. extremely hurt and i'm fucking pissed off. i always thought i was a little more. i was so so wrong.

asdjklhsdjklfh

ugh! don't be stupid aidee, don't be fucking stupid.

my favorite voicemail.

"so this one time i was texting you. and you you weren't texting me back and i got really upset, so if you could just text me back, that'd be really fucking awesome. thank you. bye."

love is heartless.

that's all.

writing.

i'll stop writing about you soon, i promise. i hope these are the last of my posts about you.

aches.

my head is fucking throbbing. one ache per person, please.
i'll take the headache hands down though.

monday, october 18. year. 2010.

it was monday just less than two hours ago. omar came to my house. we drank lots of booze and now my drunkness is going down. i'm shakey and i don't like this fucking feeling. omar is asleep. it's cold and raining as i type. fall is going to be a very sad time. too sad. maybe the saddest. i've realized that i never had anyone for cold weather, in a romantic way i mean. and before, as in past years, this was never a problem. i don't care to share my bed with anyone and never cared for anyone to share their bed with me. to hold someone in my arms or to be held all night. this had never mattered to me. sure, it'd be nice if i had. but i didn't and it never crossed my mind. this year, 2010, has been the most emotionally exhausting year of my life. it's autumn now. my favorite season of the year. i thought i was going to share an embrace with someone. a holding of hands. i didn't and it's okay that i'm not going to, but i wanted to. not jsut with anyone, but with her. only with her. just with her. forever with her, always. that's how this summer, i imagined my autumn would be. an autumn full of love and kisses. nothing but hugs and warmth. cuddling and sharing of beds. i would have given her my bed. my bed was already hers. i'm sad. extrememly sad. i tell myself i'll get over her soon. i ask my friend "i'll get over her soon, right?" i am trying to convince myself that i will. i've never been good at convincing anyone about anything, how am i supposed to convince myself with this. i'll be okay. i think. maybe not now. but i will be. i'm still shakey and my throat is starting to bother me. listening to the decemberists, city and colour, elliott smith among others is definitely not helping. i have a headache. the desk if full of booze bootles and cans. mugs with no more wine in them and my ipod next to me. off. i wish i had the power to make you love me.

creepiness and idiocy.

i did something very stupid today. something i hadn't done in quite some time. i have no fucking dignity and i have no fucking shame.

two broken hearts don't beat any less.

i'm trying so hard to get over you. i can't. i don't know why, i just fucking can't. lately i feel so tired. you being in my heart and head is tiring. it brings nothing but sadness to my life. i want to get over you. loving you is the hardest thing to deal with. you're so easy to love. i fell at your feet and i would have eaten from there if it meant you'd be with me. i'm tired. i'm tired of not thinking about anything but you. of you being the only thing that goes around my head. i'm tired of you having my heart but not wanting it. i'm tired of writing about you. i'm tired. so tired. so sick. i'm tired of being in love with you. my life shouldn't revolve around a girl who doesn't love me and who lied to me about doing so. i love you but get out. it's too much now. for too long. there's no improvement on my feelings. no lesser love for you. my pain and sadness are still the same from august 31. the same. i still cry myself to sleep almost every night. i still dream with you. still day dream. the only thing that's changed is that i don't expect your texts. i don't expect you to talk to me. at least that's a little comforting. that i don't expect anything from you. not even a friendship or whatever. i like that. because when you do say something, it's a little surprise and it makes me somewhat happy. even if you talk about him. i know that he is your Paige, if that makes any sense. so i am aware that whatever sadness you're feeling, he will most likely be the reason. just like you are the reason i am sad and the reason i hurt and the reason life has no meaning these days. i want to get over you. i want to find something to make me get over you. to make me hate you. i can't find anything. i've told you you're perfect and i mean it. i can't find anything i don't like. anything i hate. not even that you were confused about your feelings towards me. not even that can make stop being in love with you. i want to find something. give me something. give something of yours i can hate. something. anything. make me find an actual flaw. let it surface. please. i don't want to be like this. i can't be like this much longer. let me hate you. let me be so angry at you that i fucking despise you with every bone of my body. just give me anything. i love you but loving you hurts more than anything else. loving you is all i know how to do and i can't keep up with this.

drive them away.

i don’t let go easily. same with moving on. i always dwell on the same person for far too fucking long. sometimes i think it’s just me not wanting to. i think it’s the feeling of familiarity. you know? you already know how you feel. you know the sadness. the pain. letting go implies starting again. someone new will come soon, maybe not right away, but soon. and what happens when that person breaks your heart? see, with the current broken status you already know what it feels like and soon it will become a bit easier. but when you let someone in again and again you become vulnerable then that’s when shit sucks. i’d rather hurt over paige forever than to let someone in and let it happen all over again. at least i know paige is worth is. and i wouldn't want to feel this way over anyone ever again.

you.

you are perfection at its best. because to me, you are perfect. nothing less than perfect.

arms. legs. whatever.

i am twenty-fucking-three years old. i should not be thinking about cutting. it's so stupid. i am not a child and i should be able to deal with my feelings, emotions, whatever in an adult way. in a grown up matter. i just want to cut. that's all i want. to cut. to press the piece of broken glass on my arm. to slice away at it. the blood. i miss the blood. i miss the scabs and i especially miss the scars they left. they're like pictures of a time when living was hardly bareable. when so much shit was going on in my head. in my heart. when living was a burden. once the cuts have healed that's when you know shit's okay. but once you're cutting. the moment your fragile, human skin starts to open up and bleed, that's when it all goes away. everything that is going on, all that shit that you want to not think about, is gone. that easy. cutting is hard to quit because it can so easily make everything bad go away. even if for just a second. one second. sometimes this is all i ask. to be okay for one fucking second. to not hurt. to not think about being the unlovable human being that i am. to not think that my heart is fucking broken in a million little pieces and it will take forever to put together again, and even then, it will be incomplete. it will have little pieces missing. it won't be the same. for one second. cutting does that to me. it makes me forget. it makes me happy. it makes me feel something else other than heart broken. i want to cut. so badly. i want this to go away. i want to cut.

be happy.

i just want you to be happy. that's it. just be happy.

miss misery.

my memory's gone to shit ever since you and i stopped doing whatever it was that we were doing. the only things i can remember are things that involve you somehow. anything. everything. all i remember is you. my mind is a blur. my eyesight has gotten worse. to the point when i can barely read the captions on television. i can't remember anything now. i can't see anything now. only you.

sleeping sickness.

that feeling is back. the one that makes me want to die. the one where curling up in a fetal position and cry for days seems like the only way for me to live. when crying yourself to sleep makes it even all that harder to get up in the morning. with eyes swollen and massive headache. close to a hangover. when veins are ready to cry out all over my clothes and floor. when limbs want to be broken, so maybe the shit the goes on in my head will stop circling around and i can concentrate on my broken bones and not you. broken bones hurt less and heal much faster. that feeling when binge drinking seems like an alternative to life. you wake up with a hangover, if you wake up at all. and that hangover will consume you for the rest of the day. a throbbing headache. a dizzy head. stomach pain. acidic vomit. all these things seem wonderful compared to having you run around freely in my head and especially in my heart. if you're lucky, though, you don't wake up at all. when at night you get on your knees and pray the god you don't believe in to let you sleep for eternity. to not let you open your eyes one more time. to end all this. times like these, pill bottles are your friend. your best friend. there should be a pill for heartbreak. i'd overdose on them. hand around my neck, your hands around my neck, this is all i ask. all i want. to die with your pretty, pale, beautiful, soft hands tightening around my neck. to feel my breath lost. my veins collapsing and my brain shutting off at the lack of oxygen. to orgasm into oblivion. all i need is your face and touch to feel the glory of the most amazing moment of ecstasy. do me that favor, please, and kill me. give me at least that and make this feeling stop.

it's just one of those days. that feeling is back.

falling for you.

i can't say no one will ever love you more than i do because i know you are capable of having people want to die for you. for people to be addicted to you, like i am. all i can say is that no one will love you the way i do. no one ever will.

want.

here's what i want. i want someone, anyone, to come rip you away from my heart. to come and tear you away forever. i don't care how much it hurts. i just want you out. i hope i never relly loved you and this was something else like it was with you so i can forget you. ugh. sdjhsdkfhsjkldfhkdjfhakjsf who the fuck am i kidding, i am crazy in love with you. madly. deeply. addicted.

i'm pathetic.

this is what i find funny. i write about you. almost if not all that i write or post anywhere, is most likely about you, for you, whatever. and you write about him. how fucking pathetic am i? i mean, how fucking stupid and ridiculous am i? fuck.

even in my dreams i hurt.

maybe you weren't even real. maybe i made you up in my dreams. or even worse, my nightmares. maybe you don't exist. maybe you were an illusion. some sort of magic trick i tricked myself into tricking. maybe i was hypnotized by your eyes and everything after that was made up. maybe i've never even seen your face. maybe i've only seen pictures. maybe i saw and felt your perfection through a picture. maybe your pictures don't exist. maybe i haven't even heard your voice. or smelled your scent and hair. maybe whose hand i held wasn't yours. maybe i didn't even hold anyone's hand.

what if you really don't exist? what happens? if you don't exist, if it wasn't your love i felt, your hand i held, your embrace i cherished, if it wasn't your scent and hair i smelled, if it wasn't your big, alluring, brown, hypnotizing eyes that captivated me, then why do i feel the way i do?

i hope you do exist. i hope you weren't just a fragment of this fucked up imagination that lacks imagination. i hope that when you're in my dreams it's because you have been in my prescence and my dreams are just living what happened and what my heart wants to happen. what could have happened and what didn't. just living the little fact that i am madly in love with you and how terribly i miss you. all of you. all that is you. all that is Paige. even in my dreams i'm in love with you and even in my dreams i hurt.

so far.

sometime this week, either monday or wednesday, i was i don't know how close to where you live. and i know you think this is creepy but just like you, i have a very good memory. especially when it comes to you. but i was. i was at the gas station around where you live. i don't know exactly where you live but i know it's not even five minutes from there walking. and you can't imagine how hard it was to not scream your name out. to not text you and let you know i was around there. to not cry. i break down every time your name is mentioned. every time.

just fucking love me.

i guess i'm just in love with you and right now, i don't mind the pain. maybe i will mind it tomorrow, but right now, i don't. i'm just in love with you and i don't wanna stop being in love with you, ever, i wanna crumble in this pain and die from it.

you are the most interesting human being.

you're so interesting. everything about you is a perfect complexity that i wanted to solve. you're a puzzle. you know those like 2000 piece puzzles. every piece is something you've gone through. which explains the complexity of you. your anatomy is perfect. your "flaws" are perfect. you wouldn't be perfect if you didn't have those flaws. your eyes kill me. maybe the most beautiful thing i've seen in my life, along with your face. there isn't one fucking thing i don't worship about you. i wanted to make you my religion. my goddess. my everything. my all. nothing less than my all. i'd bow down at your feet. kiss them. i'd get on my knees and ask for forgiveness even if there was nothing to forgive. it's just, you're perfect. everything. just. perfect. every centimeter of your body. every hair. every pour. every freckle. the tan line on your feet. your chipped nail polish. your voice. even when it cracks. especially when it cracks. how it comes out of nowhere. your personality. your clothes. your sarcasm. your anger. even your sadness. every word that your lips uttered. even the ones that carried pain to my heart. everything. to me, you are perfect. you should be perfect to everyone. i will never have the pleasure to meet someone as incredible as you are, as interesting, as beautiful, as amazing, as you. i don't want to either.

get out.

sometimes i just fucking wish i never fell in love with you. i want all these fucking feelings to have never existed for you. for them go away. i love you, but i don't want to anymore.

the meaning of pain.

i wanted my pain to mean something. i stopped trying or whatever because i knew i wasn’t going to make you happy, because i knew that i wasn’t who you wanted. what you wanted. not back then. not now. not ever. i knew this. but i thought you were at least somewhat happy, therefore, i didn’t mind the pain. i wanted to hurt over something i couldn’t do anything about. i don't wanna hurt if you're unhappy because that makes my pain meaningless and i want that, at least that, to mean something.

mañana olvidare..

i cried yesterday when i saw your new picture. completely broke down. i don't know why.

eyes.

i never in a million years thought i was gonna see eyes more beautiful, wonderful, magnificent, magical as Joann's. until i saw Paige's..

something is wrong..

i’m insane with her and without her. saner without but i’d rather be completely mad with her than normal without her. but i also don’t want a little bit of her, i want all of her or nothing at all..

i never had no one ever..

i was watching grey's anatomy last night. i remember we used to talk about watching all the seasons together, and how you said it would be the "best three days ever." everytime grey's anatomy i will think of you. everytime. but yesterday, i don't know, they said something you said to me once. "change is the only constant." when they said that my heart sank. it's one thing to remember you by shit that we talked about but when someone says something you had said to me in the past, all these fucking feelings come back and i don't know what to do except pinch my fucking leg and bite my fucking cheek to keep me from crying. the knot in my throat is ready to come undone and passing saliva becomes difficult. i guess it's all part of the process when you miss someone as much as i miss you. i don't wanna miss you anymore. lately i just can't stop thinking about you. it's too much now. and now it's like i can't get away from anything because i have a friends who unknowingly have said shit that you had said to me so i find myself being a fucking girl and calling them out when they say something. everything reminds me of you and shit i didn't remember before i remember now. anything. everything. whatever, wherever, whoever i'm with. there's always something of yours there. it can be something you told me you liked, hated. something you wore. a lyric. your scent. asian males with mullets. anything. everything. you are everywhere. but also nowhere..

three times?

this has been like my "loves" blog or whatever. i've written about samantha and joann. i think it's only fair that i now write about paige. my reason for pain. for heartache. for endless and sleepless nights. for incessant crying. and i don't wanna write on the one i share with carlita coz i have lots to say about this heart of mine and it's not cool to flood our blog with my shit..

you won't realize i'm gone..

i hate day dreaming. i day dream like a motherfucker these days. i can’t help and think that i am in love with someone who doesn’t give a shit about my feelings and me. i can’t help imagining her with her girlfriend and loving her while i’m alone, not wanting anything but her. i hate when this happens, when all i do is think and think and think, all day long, and the more i think the more i feel like shit, missing her, and knowing she doesn't even think about me. i just wanna get over her..

can i make it better..

i find it funny how march 6 i wrote about not writing about anyone but samantha yet now, two months later, a notebook and a half, and heartbreak, i write only about JL. i've never written this much, there's 24 blogs about her on myspace, whether they're a sentence or a lot more writing but all i do is think about her and write. what i write is usually nonsense. i hope this ends soon, coz my heart is in pieces over her. i saw pictures of her and her gf kissing and i'm now a mess, once again.. i hate love and i hate this feeling, i want this to end, i want a friendship but i can't have a frienship right now, i just can't..

i spilled my heart..

me with my over analytical mentality always expect the worse, i like to hope for the best but expect the worse because disappointment is a bitch. however, as much as i'd like to prepare myself mentally for the worse and as much as i like to tell myself i am ready for it, i never am and all those little things i was waiting for and expecting that i knew would break my heart even more than it already is are now visible to me, i was waiting for it, i was waiting for it hoping it would never happen or at least i wouldn't see it. i'm of the belief to never ask anything if the answer you might get isn't the answer you want or to not look for things you don't want to find. i'm very good at the first one but the latter kicks my ass every time. i'm about to break, my whole body feels as though it's about to break into pieces, my limbs feel as though they are about to walk out on me and my heart feels like it's been stabbed with a rusty knife and it just keeps twisting and tearing at it, and this is all my fault. for looking for things i don't want to find. i'm a stupid human with the word masochist branded across my forehead and the word sadist coming out of my mouth calling all the sadists to come play and torture me. i'm exhausted, i'm emotionally drained on the verge of a break down and violence. i never thought this was gonna be this hard. my heart, as soon as this wound heals, will be closed, i'm stitching it up and placing a metal plate around it so no human being can ever make me feel the way i feel this moment, so i won't ever be in the pain that i am right now, i don't learn, i thought i had learned from this and i feel like i keep falling back, i will learn to learn, and my heart won't ever be hurt, the love i have will be shared and given to music only, i am done fucking my heart over with people who are not willing to take in their hands like it wants to. i am done. today will be the last day i cry, this i know, this i promise, and i will be okay..

J.L..

your eyes are the most marvelous thing in the world..
shinning even in the darkest of caves..
brightening up anyone's even eternal sadness..
your voice..
oh your voice, lullabies to a baby's ears..
the arms of a child's mother..
it can cure and can provide love to even the least of believers..

J and S

i have just now, right this instant, decided to move on. i need to learn how to move on, i've been obsessing about this Sam business for almost eight years now, that's a whole elementary school child with hands and feet. i need to learn how to move on. i've decided that i need to move into another direction, maybe men..?? maybe not.. i have to start being more responsible and healthier in every sense, emotionally being at the top.

..

you've come back into my life as i was about to forget you..

i, once again, sit here writing about you..

it doesn't matter who i'm crushing on, and or who i intend to write about, i only write about Samantha, if some girl is breaking my heart and i want to write about her, Samantha immediately pops in my head and i forget about said girl and write about Samantha, it never ceases to impress me how easily these girls get briefly erased from my mind when i begin to write, i never write about any of them eventhough there's tons of girls i could write about, really the only reason i write is coz i get sad about one of them and my intent and purpose IS to write about THEM, not Samantha, but it never happens that way. No girl compares to her, not yet at least, and to my love for her, i still think about her and weep..

glass and the ghost children..

you had me on my knees..
and your feet were my home..
you never accepted my offering or even cared what it was..
it really wasn't much..
however, what was mine, was yours as well..
even more than mine..
i've dedicated my whole left arm to you..
with your name engraved on it twice, like an epitaph..
if you think about it, that's what my left arm is..
a gravestone and tomb of our now, non existent friendship..
Samantha K. Puentes, how i miss you..

superpowerless..

have you ever had that feeling of loss. i mean, when you're going out with someone, or talking, whatever the fuck, and all of a sudden it hits you this person has lost interest? or maybe, this person wasn't interested to begin with. i feel shitty today, i hate the feeling that i might be alone forever, that no one will take a genuine interest in what it is that i am. it's ridiculous how weak and stupid my mentality is since i'm writing about a woman i don't personally know and whose voice i have never heard, who i have been talking to for about a month but really only have been texting a lot for a week and really it has only been today that we haven't texted as much. it seemed like she was interested, it did, now, i don't know. ugh! i hate myself for falling hard over nothing, it's not even a trip, it's a fucking fall off a fucking waterfall in Peru, that's how hard and how fast i fall, and i fall over bullshit, she's not bullshit, my emotions are, my heart is..

you are free to love..

i have lose change in my pocket, gum wrappers in my bag, dead flowers withered a year ago and a picture of you taped to my diary. how my autumn feels like winter, summer feels like winter, spring feels like winter, and winter feels like hell. the world seems gray and the sun feels like lightning striking upon my body. there is no light just dark, i haven’t seen any color in a while, no brightness, no contrast, no nothing, all black, sometimes gray but mostly black. no amount of pillows can keep me warm at night, no other being. no nothing. the blood that runs through my body is no longer warm or human like or red, it’s cold like winter in antarctica, black like your soul, and nonhuman like flies around a corpse. my hair falls out from lack of maintenance and my room smells of burnt flesh from burning the tips of my fingers with matches and cigarettes.

killing an arab..

what is it with chicks with fucking girlfriends that attracts them to me?! i mean seriously, what the fuck is it?? if you have a fucking girlfriend or a fucking boyfriend GO AWAY! do not fucking flirt with me, do not say shit to me unless it's just all nice friendly stuff! SERIOUSLY i have enough with my shit, enough in my head to deal with to be dealing with girls who "like me" but have fucking girlfriends. FUCK OFF!! leave me the fuck alone!! GAH!

the tragedy of the broken glasses..

it is funny how little shit can be something awful..
i need glasses, ya know, to see. i've probably needed them since i was in elementary school but didn't get any until i was about fourteen or fifteen. those glasses went through some shit, i mean, probation for skipping school, depression, cutting, falling in and out love.. My mom got pissed off about my getting in trouble with school that she was hitting me once and knocked them out and they got crooked coz when they fell i guess i sat on them so the fuckers were C R O O K E D, but shit, i could still see awesome so no biggie. another thing these bastards went through was one night i took them off to sleep and in the morning they were on the floor all bitten, the frame had little teeth marks, the part that goes around your ears was all bitten to the point that if i wore them like that it would eventually make me bleed coz it was all fucked up,so tape was around that part, the actual lens had some bitage there too, but hey, i could still see. so i had those glasses since i was around fifteen til i was twenty and that's when tragedy struck. my mom and i went into jack in the box and i didn't wear them outside coz i fucking hated that they turned dark in the sun ughhh i fucking hated that, i mean i have fucking sunglasses. so i take them out to wear them and tlick..they break. i mean, they just fucking broke, there were no signs of them breaking or anything and just like that they were broken into two pieces. i cried. i had enough bullshit for about a year or so now that i cried, i felt as if everything in my life was going wrong and this was just the fucking cherry on top of this shit sundae. I my glasses broke, it wasn't a big deal for anyone but it was a big deal to me. these glasses were like my life, even my Identification. i haven't gotten glasses and i can't see for shit. funny how when shit is going on in your life, little things like these are the evidence of it..
i'm talking out of my ass..

the hills are alive with celibate cries..

send me the gods..
send me the kisses..
give me your love..
break me to pieces..

heaven knows i'm miserable now..

leave me to die for i want to die in your arms, with my head resting on your chest and my ear wet with your soft, moist breath.

i'm crawling through landmines..

oh Samantha, again i write about you because i cannot seem to keep you out of my stupid mind. I went on your myspace after not having gone there in quite sometime and i found your twitter page. i will not try to contact you anymore since you've made it more than clear that you do not wish to talk to me and i do understand that, i don't think there's really a reason but i get it. i don't even know what to write about, i find new shit about you and i become dismantled. it's like this grey cloud comes over my shoulder and starts raining and thundering on me, like being in a cave and being eaten by whatever lurks around there. i never wanted more than to just take care of you, nothing more, all i wanna know is you're okay, and it seems like you are, so i'm happy for you. ahhhh fuck, if i felt shitty before, i feel even shittier now..

your love is king..

to hold your hands and feel the blood running through its warm, tangled veins, would be the sweetest touch. caressing the inside of the palm of your hands tracing every line and every patch of rough skin, running my finger around your freckles is perfection, perfection, perfection..

ughhhhhhhhh!!

samantha, i need to see you, let me hold your hand..

please..

i do not struggle in your web, because it was my aim to get caught..

lately, recently i should say i keep having trouble with reality. i find myself thinking if i am here, right now. today i woke up and thought it was monday morning. all, everything seems blurred. ever since this year started everything seems blue. my mood has gone to shit and taken my attitude with it. part of it right now is i'm a bit hurt by something that just recently happened to me. a friend of mine made me realize someone is/might/was fucking with my head and the little pieces of evidence keep playing in my head over and over. sometimes it feels as if i only dreamt this. everything related to this person. to make matters worse i haven't slept well since the new year started. i don't know if i'm actually writing this or not. i'm fucked up and i have no way out.

i can't pretend i don't need to defend some part of me from you..

i don't read instructions..

i can't take directions..

your face is all i see..

your hands all i feel..

i have nothing to offer..

but it was lovely falling at your feet..

you said i was ill and you were not wrong..

Why is it everytime i write, it seems i'm writing about you? it's automatic. if i'm writing one of my wannabe "tortured, sad, poems" they're all directed to you. Your name is in my head constantly and everything goes back to the last day i saw you and to this picture i found of you recently online. I can still hear your voice when i go back to when i was 15 and you were 17. i can hear what you would tell me. SPEAK! i can smell your odor and can feel your warmth when you came to school just out of the shower, i can see how clean your face was. all i write comes back to you. my organs are meant for you. it doesn't take much for me to see your small wrists, small hands with your bitten nails, your chipped nail polish or wrongfully painted finger nails. these things are in my brain as if they had happened yesterday. the scar you told me you got by "falling of a bike" when i knew before i even asked you it wasn't true. i don't know if it was a cutter a calling a cutter but it was definitely something calling something. i don't know you if you were calling me or if i was calling you but there we were, comparing scars, like a game. i never cut myself so much in my lifetime as i did in those two months. our game of cutting seemed to be to see who was more tortured, more deep inside the dark, shallow hole called life. my cuts were always more dramatic, being longer and done with a shard of glass, your were deeper since you did them with a blade and more hidden. You would win..

-"scratch my name on your arm with a fountain pen.."

i've done that and i'd do more if you asked me to..

we had divine sense..

your chemicals inside my system, my brain moving in ways i never thought possible, the right side of my brain not catching up with the left side, coming in and out of reality. i grasped a bottle of beer tightly in my hand then would release only to find my hand moves slowly and by itself but it only goes a certain distance. the silhouette of a woman on a lamp post. how i can move my left hand faster than my right one at the same time. i'm more in touch with my body, my coordination seems to sharpen. the touch of someone is delayed, their touch not as strong, my hands numb, getting them slapped was the only way i knew i was actually standing there at that moment, in that place, with these people. it's like photography. like a film of photos, there's parts of it missing. it almost feels like a slide show. you body floating, your mouth dry, reality is insgnificant..