drapetomania.

drapetomania.

noun. an overwhelming urge to run away

i’ve always enjoyed traveling—going somewhere new. 

experiencing new places lights up my soul. 

lately, my wanderlust feeling has intensified more than ever before.

college has been weird. my anxiety has skyrocketed. 

i’ve been put through the ringer.

during the summer, my parents asked me if i was nervous about college. i replied “not about the education, but about the people.”

i was right.

as if anxiety wasn’t enough, 

my depression has made a comeback lately. not as bad as it was freshman year, so it’s manageable.

i guess it just proves that depression and anxiety never fully go away.

it’s just a thing that i need to accept, and need to move forward. 

it’s hard to move forward without the right support system there with you. 

granted, and luckily, i have the best support system called my family, and my incredible friends.

just wished they were closer. 

time is what i need. 

**please, if a loved one is going through depression or anxiety, don't make them feel like it's an inconvenience. we know. 

please, if you are going through depression or anxiety, don't hate yourself. love yourself out of it. love yourself the best you can.**

it's hard just to deal with it when "it" is feeling so unbelievably happy at times.

that's why i want to run away. 

a new place. just for a moment. just to be at peace.

i miss my soul lit up, sparkling. 

i keep tracing my tattoo, just trying to engrave the fact that i am art and i am worth fighting and worth being happy over and over again in my head, in my heart. it’s been helping. one day i won’t have to trace it—i’ll know.

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“back to the floor that I love. to a room with some lace and paper flowers. back to the gypsy that i was."

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one day, it'll all be okay. 

it'll all be worth it. 

rekindle.

"an artist who stops making art is committing emotional suicide. get off the couch and start painting again."

*** 
suicide
noun. a) to willingly kill oneself b) an action that ruins or destroys your career, social position, etc. 
***

rekindle.
verb. to start (a fire) burning, to begin/start

on october 23, 2015, i opened my journal for the first time since august 30th. 
on october 23, 2015, i wrote in my journal for the first time since august 30th.

basically two months.

two months without writing. 

on october 23, 2015, i wrote:

"i hate my soul right now. when i don't write/create art...my soul is ugly. my soul is angry. my soul is deprived.
i don't care if this seems dramatic. people feel. people have demons."

i have demons. i feel. 

i committed emotional suicide.
it's time to start writing and creating art again.

it's time to rekindle.

be ready.

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what happens when you don't really fit in places?
your own skin is your home. your soul is your home. you are home.

art.

art.
noun. the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual for such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power

i am a Virgo. over analytical, busy, worriers, OCD, smart, overall a mess but if we care, we care a lot. if you know me, those qualities apply to me very well.

yes, i believe in astrology and it has always been a huge part of my life. my aunt is big about it, and it's honestly been a part of my family for a long time too. it makes sense & is dear to me.

about a year ago, my friend sent me this quote she found on tumblr because i'm a Virgo and she knows i'm into that stuff. 

"VIRGO: darling, you should surround your room with plants and flowers and life to remind you of what you are every morning when you wake up, because you are art and life and color. but in a different way than most people, and i think that's pretty damn cool. you're so you, and you should embrace that more. if there's something you want to change, something you just want to do, just go ahead and follow your pretty mind. the path you walk on will be paved with sunshine." 

that struck me real hard because music, art, and literature have always been ways i have used to express myself.

art...

i am art.

hence my tattoo that says "art". it's a reminder & placed on my left side... close to my heart.

whether i am a Monet (pretty from far away, a mess up close), a Picasso (plain on jumbled, brilliant, abstract mess), or a Michael Angelo (beautiful, put together master piece) that day, or even that whole week, month, year etc... it doesn't matter.

i am art either way and that makes every emotion, every experience that originates from me a piece of my painting, my story. 

art is valuable. art is worth it, and so am i.

"you are a work of art. not everyone will understand you, but the ones who do, will never forget about you." 

now every time i look in the mirror or feel my heart beat, there is a reminder of just that. 

& that's important 

tangled thoughts.

tangled.
adjective. twisted together untidily; matted complicated and confused; chaotic  

whatever part of that definition you want to use could describe my thoughts accurately.

being a Virgo, over analyzing is an every day occurence. 

& that's okay.

i firmly believe that my blogs not only soothe my soul & messy mind, but could help somebody else also. 

& that's important to me.

so please excuse these unorganized strings of words and tangled thoughts. 

• as you guys have read from my latest post, i was forced to go through this huge challenge of the transition of a serious, long term relationship to the single life. i blogged about the raw experience around two months ago. 

i wish i could type that it was a clean breakup, drama free, but that would be a lie. 

recently i had to tell the man i was almost certain was my forever to "get out and stay out of my life." 

this has taken a huge toll on me.

i never thought i would have had to tell him that, especially because i believed his words of "i still love you" a little over a month ago would result in him keeping everything peaceful, not telling people i was "manipulative" and having his best friend mock me repeatedly on social media.

personally i don't understand it, or him at the moment. 

but what i don't understand the most is why i will still tell people that he is a good person...why i think that there is still good in him. 

somewhere deep inside that apathetic yet angry shell of his, there is that gentle soul i fell in love with. 

i believe that.

one day, he will find somebody who will make his shell crumble & he will love her with his whole being. he deserves that. 

that being said, i deserve that as well. 

that is why i had to ask him to stay out of my life. it wasn't good for either one of us.

despite it being the best for us, it is still hard sometimes. 

it's hard knowing that i had to ask him of that. 

• please know that you can miss somebody without wanting them back. that fact seems to be forgotten a lot.

• art... you yourself is art. your body, your love, your mind & soul... all of you is art. 

i love that. it makes my soul happy knowing that. y'all may be wondering why the hell i am saying this, but i think everybody needs a reminder of that sometimes.

• fact: i am getting a tattoo of the word art under my left breast that extends to my side. close to my heart. it'll be tiny and in white ink...a part of me. 

• no i don't care about your opinions about it, i love it.

• there's something amazing about difficult journeys...

you learn so much about yourself. 

there's this quote that says "and she always had a way with her brokenness. she would take her pieces and make them beautiful." 

the word he can be put in place of she. don't feel left out, boys. 

take your pieces that were broken off of you during the tough times and make them beautiful. 

find yourself, and create something even more incredible with those chipped off pieces. 

even if you feel completely broken, it's okay. 

because if you keep focusing on yourself, and not only bettering yourself, but also loving yourself, one day you won't hurt anymore. one day, you'll be happy. as wilson philips' once said "hold on for one more day". 

• music can help soothe the shaken soul. 

• do stuff that makes you feel. 

only a few of you will completely understand that.

• stop focusing on the things you don't have. 

• don't let love get old.

• don't stop fighting for what you love.

• know when you have to walk away.

• never apologize for your body shape.

• always always always love yourself.

• remember that intelligence will never go out of style.

• neither will a genuine smile.

• be in love with your life, every single minute of it. 

& most importantly...

• don't be afraid of a little messiness. 

the letter i'll never send

dear you,

i tried to treat this particular post like the others. not make it that personal, etc. it did not work. it was pretty much impossible to not make this personal. 

i realize that you aren't really a fan of personal stuff, but you did tell me i could blog about you if i wanted to (months ago)... you never read my blogs anyways. so you'll probably never read this.

i fell in love with you.

it was basically love at first sight, except the first thing you saw of me was my ass in that dress in math class when i stood up for the pledge.

i never knew that my ass was that impressive, impressive enough for you and your friend to say the pledge of allegiance to. 

i never knew i would fall in love with you, but it happened. 

you gave me this love that made every day a good day, you told me i was the reason for your happiness, and that you felt on top of the world after our first kiss. 

that was almost two years ago.

i'm sorry that happiness disintegrated. i'm sorry you had to figure out if you wanted to stay with me or be single with your friends who all broke up with their others. i'm sorry that that took you two months to figure out and i had no idea that that was the reason, all i knew was that you were distant, you never wanted to be close to me. 

but most of all i'm sorry things never got back to normal permanently when you decided i was worth it...

we were fragile after that. 

we ended up picking up the pieces six months later, i thought things were perfect...to be honest we were as perfect as a relationship could be. we gave each other our everything every day,  we gave each other love and happiness. we didn't need anybody else, and our loved ones seemed to freak out about that...even their rockiness didn't crash our ship. we were invincible.

the invincible didn't last, and after the second time of you trying to figure everything out (by yourself, you never opened up), we were more fragile than the first time.

i'm sorry to say we lost too many pieces after that. 

we both knew after that that we took each other for granted.. i wasn't a perfect girlfriend, you weren't a perfect boyfriend. we were unhealthy..

the split ends of a relationship.

things came crashing down after that. you never wanted to be with me, nor did you want to talk anymore. your walls got thicker. 

you didn't want to try anymore, and i wanted to try too hard. i wanted to make up for your apathy, things cannot work like that. especially because my insane effort made you think i was controlling, needy, etc.

i never wanted to control you, i can't even control myself to be honest. 

i just wanted us to get back to happiness.

maybe we will now, without being together.

i keep telling myself that if you are willing to let me go, i need to be willing to walk away.

it's easier said than done. i still don't quite understand why you let me go, or how you feel..

but i cannot be hung up on that. i cannot keep looking at my phone when it vibrates hoping it is you, because it never is. maybe one day it will be, but i refuse to get my hopes up.

i know we were very different. but it's not the differences that cause problems, it's the indifference.

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i know a lot of our generation would fuck around, or use a high to try to fill a void or whatever. but that's dumb...

it'd be easy to fuck around and try to forget but i really hope you respect yourself enough not to.

i hope our relationship meant more to you than that. but it's your decision. it's all yours.

in case you wonder, i'm not going to do that either.

it'd be dumb.

------

i'm doing okay. of course i miss you when the song that we used to sing together comes on...the song we said we would want an apartment to represent. or when i look at the spot on my wall that is now covered with a concert picture because seeing your handwriting telling me  that "even when i hate you, the love is still there" makes me remember our good times but also how there was so much more hate than love at the end...we weren't working.

it was both of our faults. i did expect a lot, i expected to be treated right every day, all day.

which is kinda what a relationship should be....but i know i didn't go about it a way that you wouldn't become defensive because of. i wasn't perfect... 

just because i wasn't perfect doesn't mean that i did not (and do not) deserve to be treated with love, respect & honesty... every body does.

you do too.

maybe one day, after we better ourselves, when we know what we want, and we know how to make it work, we can try again.

but it can't be just one of us. we already saw how that went.

it has to be us both...us together. 

but no matter what happens

i hope you find happiness, i really do.

it'll be okay. ("if it's not okay, it's not the end")

if you need anything, you know how to reach me.

until then

satire.

satire.  
noun. the use of humor, irony, exaggeration, or ridicule to expose or criticize people's stupidity or vices, particularly in the context of contemporary politics, societies, and topical issues.

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Slut Shaming and 77 cents

by Andrea Torres

Slut shaming has happened since the beginning of time. Those who do not believe me need to talk to Mary Magdalene and Hester Prynne. Like those fine ladies, who should have been stoned (actual stones thrown at them, not passed a blunt) in my opinion, I have been demeaned as a slut just because of my physique and outspoken attitude. I am so glad I was belittled, because that ensured me never turning into a real slut. The insults I got from women motivated me to become the best woman I could possibly be. The perverted comments from boys in my past made me realize my true worth, nothing but a sex toy to make them sandwiches when they order. And when society shuns me because my dress is too tight and too short I realized that my outfit is asking for boys with penises smaller than my hem line to think I’m unintelligent, worthless, and interested in them. Women need to stop trying to prove their worth because other women, men, and society will always kick them down to their knees-the position they should stay in.

Bruised knees and hearts are two things that go with being born with a vagina. Women are not capable to bond over being bruised; envy and craziness take over because no two bruises are the same size. Coming together and forming a womanly bond would only destroy this world, we’d make Oprah Winfrey president and start a World War III during our synced up cycles. Luckily, that will not happen because most females are too busy deciding what Instagram filter makes their face look better than the girl’s standing next to her. The more likes your picture gets, the hotter you are, the more likely you will get a chance with that hot dude. Boy’s opinions are the only ones that matter, especially since the girls telling you that you are beautiful are still envious of your bruises.

The creatures who give you the bruises are the most superior creatures this universe has created. They are purely rational and even their emotions can be backed up with logic. Woman should not even try to inspire to be as powerful as the male sex is. That will never happen. You can only have true power when you have something between your legs. Being born with a penis sets you up for a life of success and the authority to tell us women to cook, clean, and spread our legs with one look, one demand. Women should feel lucky to even get a glance, especially when they are not made up or look the part. Even the Victoria’s Secret angels have bruises, some divorced, and some cheated on. And I bet they deserved it because as the famous Meninist twitter account says, “Women are like used cars. No matter how much you like it, just remember another guy beat the shit out of it then ditched it for a better one”. Women are never smart or pretty enough to be bought at full price, not even an extra 23 cents. There is a reason it took 144 years for America to let women vote. However, as an amendment that gave women input in political issues, the 19th Amendment should have never been approved, because women can barely make the right decision about what to cook for dinner. If you think Obama Care is bad, just think about Oprah giving away everything for free. The United States of America’s economy would go down the drain. Women are simply not meant for politics. This problem is not limited to just America. In fact, America is not the only place where women are rightfully inferior to men.

The Middle East demeans women so much that fathers sell their own virgin daughters as sex slaves. Better than going through the trouble of selling your daughter, why not just participate in female feticide? Aborting a fetus just for the pure fact that it is a female is brilliant. The Indian men sure know what they are doing. 

American women truly seem to have it easy, we are not sold or aborted as soon as our fathers find out testicles did not drop out during our mother’s painful pregnancies (the part of the curse earned by Eve because she was crazy and defiant). U.S. women just have to worry about their cracked iPhones, not letting dinner overcook, giving their man pleasure, and-if worthy enough to work-covering up their bruises in a workplace where they are still not worth an extra 23 cents. Why should they deserve less than a quarter more? Girls’ educations through grade school were justly less valuable than their boy classmates’. Schools across America form rules what girls can and cannot wear to school so the boys can have a distraction free learning environment. This proves that America’s education system rightfully favors the male education and their future success. Since women do not need an education to cook, clean, and follow requests from men, America should save money and stop sending females to school altogether. By focusing on empowering men, the world has the beautiful possibility of degrading women so much that they may finally realize that their opinion does not matter. By shutting women up and depriving them of an education, their physical appearances and their cooking skills will improve tremendously since that is all they need to focus on.

I would like to apologize to the males in this room for showing a bit of my upper thigh, and disrupting their distraction free environment. I just now realized that wearing this dress made it impossible for you to focus on the words coming out of my mouth. Not that it matters. I promise I was just rambling nonsense like the other girls' essays in here. I am not intelligent enough to put a string of words together. Words that do not even have value to anybody in this room. I know that I am more attractive when I shut up. I know that I am crazy and overly emotional. My outlooks cannot change the world, not even change the thoughts of one individual. I am sorry I was not born with a penis, because maybe then I would have sort of value, make a full dollar, and be respected. Being a woman is a disgrace.