The End of an Era

There’s so much fucking pain in this world. Being alive hurts so much. The last few nights I’ve been contemplating taking my own life just for the sake of being asleep to the knowledge of being alive.

I’ve spent days and nights crying, negotiating with the stars to take my pain away. The sit on their throne with their cold silence and all I can sense and feel is the deep sadness coursing through my veins.

Will it ever be better? Will I ever get better?

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Maybe it’s finally over

How can one tell when enough is enough? They say love conquers all but mostly love has conquered my rationality and my desire to feel safe.

I can lie to myself and say it’s gonna get better, but after years of this, it’s become clear that nothing will ever be different and I will never be safe with the one person I’ve given so much to.

Does it really matter anymore?

For a second I was so hurt, there was nothing but an ocean of my tears and blood and now I’m just numb.

So I guess it doesn’t matter at all.

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The Bad Old Days

Sometimes it’s hard to imagine where all the words come from and most of the time there’s a fear of the wrong person reading them before I/m ready to say them to anyone else. I have kept journals for years and thought that I was safe and yet none of this is safe. Every word that falls from me is an accusation, an apology, a hate filled letter, and then there’s never anything for me. I wanted this to mean something other than hatred and sadness and heartbreak, but here I am… the words only come when I’m high and distressed and when aren’t I?

I’ve tried to use the words to make sense of this- of what is me;

and yet I’m still more and more confused, The hurt revolves me as if I were the sun and how can I snuff out my own light?

I want it to make sense and that’s all I know, besides that I only know what I don’t want and according to the rules of manifestation, that’s not how it works..

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To Feel or Not to Feel

I could drown in my own tears and I wonder if he would even notice.. There’s times I’m full of anguish and my heart is shattering but there’s no way to tell anyone or to open myself up to the healing,

“We can’t keep trying to move forward dragging so much negativity”

That’s what he said and I ask myself if that’s all I ever bring, if that’s all I have to offer to anyone.

Everything inside me hurts. My heart, my soul, my essence are engulfed by this maddening sadness. It runs so deep, I can’t separate who I am from these feelings of worthlessness…

He won’t help me.. He doesn’t even understand me. And I don’t understand him like he told me so last night.

So many awful things have happened and he can move on from them but I can’t. I want grand gestures, I want grand apologies, grand forgiveness. I want an orchestra and the largest bouquet of flowers. I want grand love to wash away my hurt but he has none of this.. He doesn’t believe in these things. He wants only to forget and keep on going as if nothing ever happened… But it all did happen… maybe not to him but it did to me. I’m tired of pretending I feel forgiveness for myself and for others when inside I’m still burning with a rage similar to the deepest pits of hell. I can’t pretend to feel forgiveness when really what I feel is a longing for death, to forget all this and myself and never think of it again.

It’s possible I’m in great danger but he won’t ever notice. He’ll tell me the same cold, calculated responses as if they were sharp enough to cut through me, but they only reopen old wounds and I’m bleeding all over his shoes and he walks away and I can only hope that I won’t have to wake up again.

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Turning the Leaf

Right now I can feel all things. I feel the burden of the past and hopefulness of the future with the pain of changes all between. I can’t be sure why I’ve brought myself to this point, but I did. The question is; have a learned my lesson yet?


They do indeed repeat themselves until the soul can recognize why and how. I see myself from afar and I see a girl who’s so afraid of living , she has sequestered herself in this dim, barren womb of her own making. It was made of her trauma, it was made of her own sins. She thinks she’s comfortable… or well at least she thought so up until a few days ago…..

I’m not sure why I’m talking about myself in the third person

But it helps …

Eye See Me

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Through the Psychosis

Let’s just go right into the dirt.

My emotions are extreme, there is no in between.  I have no control over my emotions. This lack of control led to destruction. I destroy myself more and more every day, knowingly and willingly.

Oftentimes what has taken me to where I landed was because I purposely ignored my gut feelings. Yes, intuition. I live in perpetual denial.

Right now..

I am extremely upset. So fucking upset and this feeling so familiar to me and its utterly consuming. I keep finding things out about people who I was supposed to trust and at this point, I am without a doubt unstable and unsafe. This extreme is so scary and really I just wanna give in to it. I’m so tired.

I’m literally ruining my own life

through my feelings. They take over my body and I’ll set fires, I destroy priceless, sentimental possessions. I wreak the havoc inside me on everything immediately close by to my physical space. I am war and I am rage and I am afraid of myself for myself and for others.

I’m tired and I’m so hurt.


has always been the most horrible thing you could do to me… I’ve been so absurdly honest and what for? Just to be dragged around in the dark and the cold all through being told of the promised land- the happy future, having it all. feeling love and being love and making love.

I feel like I’ve been robbed…

Where do I start? I’m trying to make sense of the last 5 years and what I’ve done and how I ended up here- living in an apartment with people who I don’t know, who I don’t matter to and who don’t matter to me. The worst part about it is that I did know one these people. I knew one of them and I was in such intense denial about who they really were and who I really was and now we’re here. I hope I never have to seee him again. At this point I don’t know who’s the crazy one anymore. Am I the crazy one because I’m so fucking paranoid? I always felt like this person was always out to get me. From the moment we met, from the moment he weaseled himself into my life, I felt the off-ness.The stench was undeniable but I just burned some incense around it and dressed it up with crystal magic and an astrological map to my subconscious. Poison, poison, my heart knew and I let the illusion of grandeur get away from me, away from my control. Since I allowed this person to enter my life so many horrible fucking things have happened all around me and to me and to everyone. It’s getting worse and worse and honestly I almost just set my whole apartment on fire. In my rage I set this person’s bed and pillows on fire. I sat there watching it spread, smoking my cigarette. Maybe I was on the phone? Who knows, but I called the only person I knew I could call. Let’s call him Mr. Montana (to protect his privacy as well as my own)… He calmed me and he talked to me and honestly I was surprised. I expected him to be upset that I was bothered by the person. This is another story for another time though…


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Honesty is Key

….. And it’s also the hardest key to acquire. Not everyone is honest and most aren’t even honest with themselves..

The Queen of Running

That wasn’t always me, but the last two years have severely damaged my ability to see myself clearly, to see myself as someone who should be respected.

I really don’t know where to start

I’m wondering if I should ask my friend to help me. He is also a writer and is someone who knows me very well but I’m wondering if maybe that defeats the purpose of this blog. Is it still my journey if I bring a party with me? Or am I just on the ride for their journeys hoping that I will eventually happen on the path that is for me?

Questions are my favorite

You’ll notice the deeper I go into myself, the more questions seem to arise. Am I even going the right way? wtf

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First Time

IMG_2801So here’s the thing….

It’s been really difficult trying to come into myself.

Yeah yeah, I know what you’re thinking; “Another whiney girl having an existential crisis”, and even if that may be the case, if I don’t do something different, the crisis is only going to prolong itself. So I’m here to cut the shit and be straight up with everything that is my life. I don’t care what happens to the words, they just need to come out.

but it’s too hard

That’s what the voice in my head always tells me. Every time I want to begin a project or shift myself out of the funk, I get pulled in so hard, I land on my ass every single time and I’ll let myself sit. there for centuries.


I have to express myself one way or another and here it goes. I am me and you are you. I’ve spent the last 5 years spiraling in and out of depression. For a while I was getting a grasp of what I really wanted and then one bad thing happened and I went right back to sitting on my ass, watching the fire engulf everything I had worked to hard to bring down from the dusty storage place in my head. And now here I am, craving something so hard that it literally takes more strength to just sit on my ass than it does to try and expose myself to me.

I will try to be reasonable with myself.

no setting of impossible goals. no harsh self criticism. no comparing myself to others. and of course NO GIVING UP- no no not this time. I will work through the trauma and I will be an inspiration to myself and hopefully to others..


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