All Posts, poetry, Uncategorized

The seventh day of Spring.

I called into work for a minor sickness which caused guilt to be had.

My depression brought nostalgia of the worst kind. The past love kind.

My uterine lining decided it was time to be shed.

My tear ducts took it upon themselves to sync with my mind.

I have so much to do.

I cannot think.

I cannot think.

I cannot think.

I am thinking too much.

I am thinking too much.

I am thinking-

what if I quit

what if I-

It became too much, like everything else does.

How brushing my teeth is the same as me climbing the Eiffel Tower.

Maybe if I were climbing the Eiffel Tower-

Reality.

Reality.

Reality.

I laid in my favorite spot until I became paralyzed.

I was paralyzed but my mind was trying out for the cheer squad.

And by that I mean, I wish I were as happy as the cheer squad.

And by that I mean, I have always hated the cheer squad.

I did not want to be there but where else would I go?

I wanted to go somewhere fun but my mind was saying no.

What if my mind pressed the escape button-

Oh, dissociation, the second cousin to depression.

I didn’t know I invited his cousin…

Dissociation is doing well today, we talked about the weather and whether…

or not I should delete all my social media, die, quit, cry, scream, eat, explode, or all of the above while my actual mind does its part.

But separately. Obviously.

Depression told dissociation that even though they are cousins that he was fine at this party alone.

But family does not listen and neither do…

my thoughts because they like to be as independent as I portray myself to be.

My party, my meltdown, my crisis, was winding down.

Or was it.

Or was it.

Or was it.

The spring air is wild with pollen and my nose is fine but my mind is not.

I’ve never heard of a pollen-induced mental breakdown.

But there is a first for everything.

And for the first time, let’s not blame this all on the weather but rather the whethers.

 

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All Posts, art and photography, personal writings

Self Portraits this morning.

 

I love the human body, not particularly mine… but that’s a topic for another post. I have had trouble finding a model to work with so I took it upon myself to try and carry out a vision I’ve had for awhile. I’m sure my parents would freak out at these, but I’m an artsy person, not particularly affected by nudity, and as I said, love the human body.

I have dipped my toes into probably 70% of possible genres in the world and always make my way back to humans. Maybe it’s because I’m a closeted hopeless romantic or just have that urge within me for some reason.

Notice they aren’t full nudes, I’m not there with myself yet and probably will never be. Plus, I do have SOME internet boundaries. I just want to be creative and where I live just lacks the resources artists like myself need. I’m so bored, I’m so bored with life, I’m so depressed and everything is so bland. These pictures, for the thirty minutes it took to take them, let the colors come back into my vision. Then, as I was editing, I realized I didn’t completely hate myself or my body and that in itself is quite an achievement for me. I saw fat rolls and stretch marks and bruises and bumps and cellulite, and you know what? The body positivity that has been going around has been affective in allowing me to love my body. It’s honestly pretty weird. But… a good weird.

So, thanks for reading and subscribe for more totally emotional posts, probably in the form of poetry. Leave comments on how I can improve. (Step 1 is getting a battery for my remote so I don’t have to keep getting up every ten seconds lol)

 

P.s. I’m completely aware that the pictures could be better, I didn’t try extremely hard and I didn’t have the equipment I needed immediately available in that moment. However, I personally like the style and, in general, how they came out.

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All Posts, poetry, Uncategorized

Hunger.

Every time my stomach is empty it tells me.
But when it tells me
and I acknowledge the feeling
I bargain with it

You can’t be hungry

Look at all the extra food
stored elsewhere

Look at the number
the square tells you
you are

This means you can’t be hungry
You aren’t allowed to be hungry

What if
What if, just for a few days
You remain empty

Some of that extra food can be used
Maybe that square will finally
Read a number you can be
Excited about.

What if
What if, you deserve this.
You deserve to be empty
You deserve to growl

That cupcake
That ice cream
That bread
That pasta
That food you actually like

Was it worth it?
That food you like?
You didn’t nourish
You indulged

But my brain told me to
And my stomach was angry

You deserve to be empty

Right?

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