I wish I could say I'm still happy with you. Out of all honesty, I think we lost "it." That spark that made us at one point in our relationship, so content with ourselves, so thankful to be together. We were pretty much inseparable; our daily agendas had to consist of time together. Sure we argued here and there, but we always made up and shoved the pile of anger, jealousy, and bitterness to the side. We got into a fight; cup our hands with another pile of that sort and push it to the side. We fight over miniscule details that irritate us so, and scoop another pile. After our typically heated tousles, we'd still get jabbed by that irksome pile, but time slowly plastered a wall, layer by layer. After some fights, more and more layers started to thicken, and now we had a sort of wall. A wall that was once paper-thin, to a brick wall with soundproof padding. Now, communication couldn't be spoken through. Our hard-headed skulls were indifferent to the hurt feelings, the hurt we were feeling. For me, communication is something I do not practice very often. But when I drink, everything comes out. Like free verse, my speech is most likely overwhelming due to the fact that I hardly speak how I feel. I know you make that effort to get through to me. You do a great job with communicating with me, however I do not reciprocate. That must be terrible: never knowing how I feel or what I'm thinking. I wish I had a slippery tongue, and let my words slide right out. But my pride or whatever it is that's holding me back, won't let me. Our current stage isn't at its finest. Even talking to you on the phone, can make me so annoyed. We're only happy when we're fucked up. When we're sober, we're stoic. I feel like our happiness faded; we're now archaic. And yes, it's primarily my fault. I give up. We were once golden. Now we're gold dust.

What is me?

I find that Tumblr is a bit too publicized for my taste. I want to write about something personal, but it seems like Tumblr isn't the best option. So here I am once again.

What am I? Who is me? The question that I ask myself, whoever "myself" is. Sometimes, I catch myself not feeling anything. As if I'm not alive; I see myself doing things, but not thinking. Has my mind died? Why does my conscious stop working? I start thinking: how do I think? What makes me human? Sometimes I really believe that my mind and my being are seperate. They don't go hand in hand, and they tend to act on its own. Am I a ghost of my own body? And when I use "I" am I speaking from my mind, conscious or what? Yeah "I" speaks as the entity of a whole.. But clearly, my being and mind are not in sync with each other. So when I use "I," "I" think I'm using my mind, or am I just thinking from a soul? It's so hard to explain, but when I think about it, it makes sense. I have these moments a lot now, where I question my aliveness. It sounds pretty psycho for a seventeen year old to be saying all this nonsense, but I feel so worn. And weak. Almost as if I'm deteriorating. I'm so tired. Not because of lack of sleep. But because my mind feels weak. I feel so emotionless. My parents, boyfriend say I seem emotionless. My parents especially, believe I'm heartless. To my defense, I believe it is because I've trained myself to be thick-skinned and unmoved by any attacks to my character. Thus, thick-skinned means I have a barrier around me. "Me," would mean the soul/mind. But I've been called emotionless since I was in sixth grade (middle school).. I would beg to differ. I was bullied, harrassed and teased in sixth grade. I felt sad, lonely, defenseless, and even depressed. So how does that count as emotionless? I feel as though I have felt more emotion than I have ever felt in my teenage years, than in my youth years. I'm so used to hearing me being called emotionless, that it gets sickening. Okay, say I'm emotionless; I am what I am. I can't force open a niche on my exterior to let the inner me flow out. That barrier isn't even a barrier anymore, it's me. I've had this barrier around me for so long, that it has become a part of me. I don't believe that's a bad thing, it's just how it is. Now for the heartlessness. I get called that from the parents too. Now, a heart is supposed to give and receive love right? That's the "blood" that keeps the heart going and pumping. Maybe it's because I never have that display of affection from the rents, or maybe it's because of that barrier, but I don't know how the love feels. When have I heard a meaningful "I love you" from the parents? Probably in first grade. Oh yeah, I was six. How old am I now? Seventeen. I remember, every night in Basking Ridge, NJ, when I was still in fourth grade, I would head to bed, shut the lights off, and watch my mom close their bedroom door. But before she would shut it, I would always say, "good night, I love you!" And every time. EVERY single time, I wanted to hear the "I love you" choraled back. But I never did. She would either smile, or say "stop lagging, hurry and go sleep now" and the door would close shut. Maybe my mom had the same problem too, with saying anything affectionate. But it's fine, that doesn't bug me. What bugs me is that when she calls me heartless, or a cold-blooded animal, it makes me wonder what she thinks of herself. But honestly, being thick-skinned is sort of a pro for me. I don't get hurt. I just get cold. I say I don't hold grudges, but I can use everything negative to alter my viewpoint on someone. When I start disliking a person, I find every possible point to prove to myself why I should hate them. It's quite bad honestly. I would say it is decidedly so for my dad. I don't ever recall the good things he's done for me (which I might add, there hasn't been much, honestly), but the bad things just keep piling up in my mind. There are so many bad things, that it buries my love for him. And we all know it's illegal to dig up graves. What's been buried should never resurface.

I believe I am a shallow person. Not like, judging people by looks shallow, but more like emotionally speaking. I don't go in depth with anyone, and by "in depth" I mean fully loving someone. I am a shallow being. I can't just smash a hammer to my brick-walled barrier, and expect to let the emotion gushing out and giving handfuls of my feelings to people. I don't know what it is that prevents me from doing so. I've always thought it was fine to be a shallow person, and I still think so. But it's my "shallowness" that pushes people away. Straight up though, sometimes I don't know how to feel, and that's what scares me. Whenever I start thinking about that, I feel like I'm not alive. Like I'm not human at all. And the worst part is that whenever I see people "loving" each other, I think it's all fake. And I scoff at them.

I honestly do believe something is slightly off with my inner self, but I don't think I'm that off. Call me emotionless, heartless, animalistic all you want; I've heard it all. And it doesn't bother me. Just teach me how to feel, and let me be alive. I feel like what I'm doing is fake, and that I'm a fake person. Fake, as in not real. I don't feel real, and this reality is just time in the hourglass passing by.

VIP/RIP

So lately I've been "hating" a lot. Not just one person, but people, things, places. But don't forget, this Lucy monster still loves too!

VIP:
LC.QT.AT.DZ.CP.SJ.AH.CL.HY.HB.KV.KL.SA.MA.GZ.CQ.AP.HH. ++

RIP:
SK.M.PP.S.SAT.BP.OSS.MMS.++




Bitch.
Don't fuck with me.

Rough Around the Edges Makes it Sharp.

Saturday, oh where do I start?
Well, first off. Elite sucked. Even though I couldn't sleep at night, I still managed to wake up at 7:22AM beautifully. I later found out how crummy my teachers are, and just how terrible Saturdays at Elite are. They attempt to cram quizzes, homework, exercises, and test review all into one little class session. So fail.

After that little inferno of my day passed, I was pumped to go to Music Speaks with Quyen! Let me tell you, I had an amazing time. Even though I had an allergy attack while getting ready, and super drained and tired, I still was able to enjoy myself in the atmosphere of talent. AJ Rafael, Cathy Nguyen, Mike, the Adrian William Project- Andrew Garcia, Frank Hagen, Jane Lui, Jennifer Chung, Passion, JR Aquino, Melissa Polinar, just to name a few. I am in utter disbelief that I would ever find myself in the same twenty feet radius from them, which I was! Although I do regret not popping an advil or tylenol before leaving the house, I still was starstruck and enjoyed every moment of listening to their talent spilling on us. The fact that the entire event was put forth for Autism, is touching and moving. Just.. stunning.

The Crux of my Summer.

I feel as if my summer is experiencing a pivotal point.

Today, summer school went by decently fast, SAT prep was alright. I feel as if I'm opening up to my classmates; we're forming a family. Sentimental-sounding, I know. But anyways, for some particular reasons, I may have a future love life?! Well, when I mean love life, I don't really mean it. Thou shalt not state names; however, I have recently started talking to one, and the other, I just met. Some things are changing; it's a strange feeling, but I like it.