Princes don't need Princes

Princes don't need Princes God, now I hate writing...I never said Xag was one of those "stray souls"...I was just trying to analyze what Natalia said to me in the light of my relationship with Xag. I was just wondering if Xag could become one of those "cases"...I was just trying to say that I always end up being the "sane" person...that's all.Yesterday, everything changed.Yes, I wanted to be his savior. I loved the idea of come flying and rescue him from his misery, I loved the idea that with the power of a hug I would heal his wounds, that a kiss would erase his pain, that my breath in his ear would make him love to be alive; I wanted to teach him how beautiful the sun is, the clouds shining in the daylight, the moon watching us from the distance; how wonderful, comforting and trusting are the city lights; I wanted to teach him how beautiful is air, the mountains; the amazing gentleness of the wind; the beautiful music that noise makes...I wanted to teach him how wonderful he is, how gorgeous he looks when he opens the door of his house and he lets a sweet, almost soundless "hola" escape from a colossal smile; teach him how comforting is his presence when the elevator door opens and his body watches me with relief, despite that I'm 2 hours late; teach him how much I wanted to kiss him in our first date in that cold bench when his broken eyes looked at the floor during an awkward silence; tell him how I blush in the bus when I remember our shower; I wanted to make him realize how wonderful his existence is; how much the world needs him, how much I love to watch him move, not move, talk about comics, how much I love his silences, his whiny, girly voice; how much I love his drawings, his writing, GOD!, his body, always eager for a hug, I love his room, I love his eyes, I love his neck, I love his arms, I love his clothes, his family, I love his home, his cat; I love how he walks, how he cries, I love his blog, I love how he thinks, I love what he thinks, his nails, his smelly socks...GOD, I love the most beautiful boy ever!But apparently, as always, I'm too late, too late to be a savior.Yesterday, I understood what means to be a suicidal. Suddenly, it all made sense. I couldn't tell him anything, I couldn't refuse him, I understood why he doesn't want to be in this world, I understood his frustration...and I couldn't help but to tell him that he is right. That he won that war, way, way, way before that war existed...I told my boyfriend that he should commit suicide...Now I'm thinking I'm going to regret all my life for having said that, but now I love him SO much that if he thinks that dying is the only way he'll be free from his pain, I have to say that I support him.The problem is that I love him...and I don't want him to leave...My plan is getting used to the idea that he's going to leave someday...(I'm a girl now!, I'm crying) but God!...please...let's wait...Don't break up with me...I don't need a Prince...I don't want a damn Prince...I want you damn it! YOU!I wish he wouldn't make a movie out of everything, that he believed the lies of the world, that he tried to be a little more like a zombie...I can't believe I surrendered...so quickly...I can't be his savior...he's already broken. 

For the first time

For the first time, I look at you in your eyes and I don’t like what I see... a charity case... it funny you knew I was going to see it this way. It’s true. I refuse to be like any of the stray souls you hang on... I will never be beautiful enough for you... we started wrong, it will end wrong... 

Intended adaptive capacity

I came from schools... where being smart comes from being... good at numbers... good at having a decent handwriting, good at solving equations... my music teacher systematically shut me down from it... my English teachers were always sending me to remedial...my art teacher strongly advised me against art... I would stay for recovery week... for chemistry physics and P.E. I would only shine in English class... and that was when my English teacher didn’t made a fool out of myself when I slipped up... he would actually tell the class what my mistake had been... he loved to torture me... when I told my Spanish teacher I was studying social communications... he was very quiet... I saw in his eyes he didn’t believe I was that good...

I was never raised as a smart kid. My sisters were and are the brilliant ones... the talented ones... they were oh so perfect... they had friends, thy cared for their looks, they had established relationships, the traveled to other countries to meet those they loved... they got to rebel with clothes and music.... I think I was left to be the sane one.... the uninteresting one... one who would have to do makeup work of school... I was left to listen non-strident music... I was left to inherit my cousin’s clothes... I was left to be the son that was not so mad in love that he would just go halfway around the world for it...

I know how to let someone win... I just need to break...

I came to that realization early this year...It was my motto. I picked it from an Art history class; my teacher said that it was one of Andy Warhol's catchphrases. To understand Warhol is to understand contemporary culture, consumes, the culture of the image. "He was a very vulnerable person" my teacher said. "That's why he used a hairpiece and speak funny", added. Warhol is the incarnation of "pop"; he made a celebrity out of himself, a lie that everyone was comfortable with. Just like those prefabricated boy bands, contemporary divas, sodas and products.In a moment, I realized I was just like any of those. "The Prince" is the smartest boy in college, he is so noble, so pure, well behaved, gentle, responsible, talented...That's the way most people see me. That's my "alternate" identity.I started questioning myself after a huge creative dry I had at the beginning of the year. I didn't feel smart, talented, responsible...The idea of "The Prince" collapsed...well, at least just for me. But at some point, I stopped caring about it. Do I have to live up to that idea? Why it is wrong that people sees you in a way that you're not? Who’s the real one? I always say: as long as none gets hurt, there's no problem with it.It's not like I act out...or tell lies...When I was at genius school they said that intelligence is an "intended adaptive capacity" and I think I've taken that definition to build my relationships with the world. It works for me...Now that I remember, it was that Warhol period one of the main reasons I ended up in vampire freaks, to create an idea of myself, to make the pictures say something for me that I can't say. I am SO not being fake with Xag, but I'm just not used to open up to other people. I'm just afraid that after discovering me, they have me at their hands...and that way they have a right to reject me. Something like it happened with my female friends at college I told them some of my most important things, I told one of them that I am BL, but at the next day...it was like nothing...they didn't deserve to know, I'm regret. (Bitches)More than anyone on this earth, Xag deserves to know how I am... 

The Prince's Strategy

When he read me his blog... I cried... he saw me cry. I don’t think I cried that much in front of anyone... I cry a lot by myself... I like that about going to the movies... no one notices you are crying. That’s what I like about rain... no one notice I’m crying... I like that about the shower... no one notices you are crying

I told the prince... since I met him, I cry every time I take a shower... I think I failed at explaining why...

It’s because I can’t be better for him... I see myself, and think... "Be the person he wants you to be"... and I can’t...

I spoke to Cloud 9... through face book... in some way she is much more relevant than any other of my crushes... because she is the reason I love girls... she is the first... she was my first crush... I was always so scared of her... just such a kid... I talked to her, told her what I felt... shared my life...I said. "It sucks. Yours?"... She hasn’t replied... maybe she just has perfect life...

I had my first clothed shower with someone. I basically pushed him to it... I think he liked it... I still have to get him wet properly... but all in its due time... I took a shower with a guy!!! A hot guy!!! Oh my god... it was so fun!!! I need to write about it, because I don’t want to forget about it... he wore his shirt and his boxers... awesome boxers... his white shirt was see through... he is so beautifully skinny... it was so freaking hot!!! I like being turned on by him... I loved it. I know it sounds such Virgo of me... but god that was so intimate... I felt like gosh... so close. I like simple things... I like staring at him hugging him... 

A Satanic Age Origins

My love is not stupid... no... I’m not stupidly in love... if I was maybe I would be foolish enough to think I could overcome all of my problems and just swim my way to the shore see the stars just because I’m in love... and god I am in love,... in two moths.. So fast... so fast I feel in love...

I’m counting the seconds till the prince will say I have to die... because he is not stupid in love either... he will sooner rather than later realize that my death is the path... those sweet words will be farewell to this world. Of course... I will not tell him this.

(1 day late)

For some reason I feel I have more skills drawing than writing; I think I'm more eloquent that way. When I have something to say or express I think I'm not very good with words. But I'm going to try this time because I think I need to. Not only now I have things to say, but I want to say them, and now I may have someone to listen. 

I'm in a war. A war I have to win.

If I win he lives and I'm happy

If HE wins...he dies...

Things are not being easy; my rival has been prepared to win long time before he was my rival. He has his entire weaponry ready, his army, and is determined to win. I think I may have damaged his defenses a little bit, but I still feel I'm not winning.

Xag...he says he knows how his story is going to end...he dies, he says. But I have a problem with that, in my story, he doesn't. He wants to forget who he is, to start all over again...he is not happy with himself...

Every time he talks there's a deep, profound feeling of sadness, frustration, and desperation. His voice is like a little cry that brakes inside his throat and turns into words. It’s just tears my soul carving into his insides and discover all that pain he's been carrying and not being able to do something to cure it.

I just want to tell him that everything is going to be okay, that everything will be fine...and I have, but it just doesn't seem enough for him. He's decided. He's been so used to feel pain for so long that seeing another way seems impossible for him. I think he's afraid of not feeling it, afraid to lose his pain...I don’t know...He has made his mind.

It makes me so sad...because I want him...I need him. He doesn't realize how much, but I do, I DO need him. He keeps thinking I'm some kind of superman, a "Prince", and that keeps him away from me...I think he knows that I'm not any of those things...that I'm just a kid...a 6 year old that shit his pants in first grade, a 9 year old rejected for being ugly, a shy 11 year old being teased at for being girly, a fragile 12 year old that cries in front of everyone for having revealed that he likes boys, a 14 year old that's expelled from a school of weirdoes for being weirder than the rest of them, a frustrated 16 year old want to be artist, a 19 year who's frustrated for not being young enough...

We're not that different...actually, I think we have very similar experiences. I DON’T KNOW, maybe he has made up his mind already, maybe he's meant to leave...he just doesn't want to admit it so he won't hurt me...I just don't want that to happen. He's so cute, lovable, smart, funny, creative...God, please no...Don’t take him away....what do you need Xag? What can I do to make you happy? Just surrender and let me win...

This journal... is an addiction.

This journal... is an addiction.

And it’s hurting me.... I’m an emotional nympho... I’m a shameless punk...

I stop myself from being with the people that make me happy so I have time to write... I procrastinate; I even disclose private secret personal information from those around me... I hurt people.

This journal has to end.

I have a problem, that I can only confide in a machine... and then share everything with the world.

This is how it ends... in pain... in deceit... in utter disappointment... no pretty words... no dramatic metaphors... this is how it goes...

Let me fall

I asked the prince... who were you before me?

He didn’t remember...

I for one, I feel I am still my past, my present and my future, I feel like that same 5 year old I that broke his best friends little pony...that little 6 year old that shit his pants in 1st grade... like the suicidal 10 year old that sunk his nails on an obnoxious blonde girl... the 12 year old that couldn’t bear to take his shirt off in the swimming pool... the 14 year old that was systematically rejected in school and discussed openly in class... the 16 year old that sat fat and ugly in front of the most hideous sea... I’m still the irresponsible 18 year old that was too weak to know what he really wanted out of life and chose the wrong major... 

You my prince... you are kid at being conscious... I remember... I am still all of who I ever been... all my ups and downs, all my glory and all my despair, I am all... you said you started to rebuild yourself. I’ve been rebuilding myself since forever; always constantly... no matter how I rebuild the outcome is this. Utter ugliness... I am still that same kid that puked every morning in the bus to school; I am still the teenager whose friends were the eternal losers... I am still the one who has to take out the only girl left at the table... I am still so embarrassed by my very existence I have to ask for forgiveness every time I see the only person that seems to care for the dirt bag I am...

you... you... you are still... conscious about society... your place in it... you homophobia... this is too ameinian... this too straight... and it inhibits your actions... see you are still living separate lives at home and at school, and with your friends... all separate worlds and realities... you don’t even act the same with the other people you have been intimate with... you are still getting drunk and getting laid... I’m feel I’m so over that... I’m so over from hiding from my family... I’m so over speaking to people differently because of social rules... from seeking physical love... I guess... I just... gave up on myself... it’s been too long,... too much... it’s just,... not going to go anywhere... maybe not even with my prince... you are to late... you are a cosmic coincidence that just arrived too late...

Ok... I’m crying now... why do I feel the need of just state the fact I’m crying now? I don’t believe my words are strong enough

There is but one truly serious philosophical problem

There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. All the rest — whether or not the world has three dimensions, whether the mind has nine or twelve categories — comes afterwards. These are games; one must first answer. 

- Alber Camus

I never went for a kiss...

I never went for a kiss... I wanted to kiss girls, and a boy, then another couple of boys, and then more girls and a boy... I don’t know why I am so obsessed with girls, if I don’t even know them... I wish I was ameinian, like so fucking completely ameinian.

Now... my virgin days are close to being over... I feel like yelling. 

I’ve written so many times the final entry for my journal, it’s just absurd... how long will I keep this up?

I have million things to do and books to read, things to finish... I have book that needs to be read... I barely have started doing all those things god told me to do.

I had my first talk with the Marquis de Sade girl (whose name is actually Jessica)... it had to last like 6 minutes... and she like completely shared herself with me. Out of nowhere. I found her... brilliant... broken, but brilliant... sincerely wowed.

Life... is an addiction

Life... is an addiction.

Doomed if I do doomed if I don’t

My mom is convinced that cutting is an addiction... she should know she is a psychologist... I didn’t think so... until... the prince asked me to never do it again.

I couldn’t make such promise! What if 5 years from now I cut again? THEN I would be an addict for not being able to keep my promise...

But... if I can’t make the promise.... I’m obviously an addict.

Where the hell is my free will?

And not only cutting... but everything... life for example...

People want me to stop being sad...

Am I addicted to my sadness?

It’s the only emotion... I think I’m familiar with... it’s that emotion... suicidal sadness I can handle... heartbreak, doom... I can handle that...

I can’t handle sex...I can’t handle having fun... I can’t handle being loved, loving someone... I can’t handle a relationship...

I took a look... around me...

My childhood... my adolescence... they have all passed... uneventful... empty... wasted

The prince... could I become addicted to the prince. I know I already am in a way. Like being addicted to a chocolate bar, to gum, to sparkies... I just like him too much.

But why am I paralyzed waiting?

But why am I paralyzed waiting?

 Why don’t I move...? 

I’m broken, paralyzed from the waist down. I can’t move, I’m in the floor trying to do what’s impossible... but above all, I’m terrorized. I’m so horrified by my situation... the fear is so deep so intense... my mind is shredding to pieces.

One little rejection and I stumble... one small misunderstanding and I crumble.

I feel my mind like a soap bubble... floating... recklessly through the streets, unnoticed... just waiting to burst when it runs into something...

Why do I hate my words so much? 

Why do my actions seem so repulsive when I see them as mine...? 

Why do I hate myself so deeply, I feel nauseous every morning in the mirror?

 My will power is rotten; the fear has corroded it with time.

As I can barely function, I’ve become separated from the world. people walk, go places, stay home, work, study, fall in love, out of love, hate, marry, have kids, make poor decisions, love, become rich, fall in bankruptcy, start their lives over, go back to live with their moms, go to art classes, have orgies in foreign cities. They kiss, spit, hug and vomit. They all have lives.

As time passes I feel my behavior becoming more and more erratic... I am unable to say basic things... make my sentences coherent... but I’m not aware... only the other night as went to the bathroom to cut myself... I sank. In exhaustion. I am losing my mind, my emotions are toxic, and my gods are delusions... I even doubted if the prince was real or not... could have I made him up? I’m crossing the line into madness... slowly...

This is what happens to minds that are in world they don’t belong. A world lacking of experiences of life, of beauty, of sanity.

(1 day late)

Violently reconquering myself

 

“If I commit suicide, it will not be to destroy myself, but to put myself back together again. Suicide will be for me only one means of violently reconquering myself, of brutally invading my being, of anticipating the unpredictable approaches of God. By suicide, I reintroduce my design in nature, I shall for the first time give things the shape of my will.”

― Antonin Artaud

He tasted like humans do...

He tasted like humans do...

Like love, like experience, like truth, like mind, body and spirit. He tasted like, the sweet warmth of home, like the heat of adventure. He tasted like reality. I had dreamt and fantasized so much about a kiss, I had imagined a flavor... a weak fantasy lie flavor. But it was sublime, raw... a taste so marvelous, so grounding, you feel you have touched the essence of life.

I read true kisses were dreamlike states, where the soul melts and consciousness disappears... they let out half of it. Kisses are conscious half of the time. The states shift so fast, so marvelous, so quickly... the body barely has time to catch up; the words barely have time to come out.

I was so aware of us, his taste his smell, the trees... me, a sloppy kisser I am sure, immature, waiting to be directed. I smiled. I always thought I would cry after a kiss... but I didn’t, I smiled.

I was so ridiculously happy... it was so ridiculously wonderful. I had my fist kiss... and it was... worth the wait...

We kissed in a park bench... by the moonlight, besides a calm river. An old couple saw... us... ... we inspired them... they kissed later!!! We moved to the wall, where we stood up for almost an hour... I spoke... my heart my mind... I held him so tight... so close... I was so relieved, comforted, pleased, excited, and happy, saved, loved, read, listened, tasted, and smelled.

We were against the wall... on the city; there was graffiti besides us... it read: KISS. The band of course. 

Everything was so me my phone rang, the lord of the rings ringtone, my Spiderman boxers, my superman hoodie, my cuts in my arms, my heat, my nails... and him... he was so.. Him. He smiled with me. He was turned on; he was listening to me... who wouldn’t stop blabbing... I spoke about superman... who is him when he wakes up? He said... Xag, I’m not your savior... then I realize I didn’t want him to be... I just wanted him.

“Death is at most… a change”-Siddhartha 

If I was to change tomorrow… would anyone miss who I am today? … The person, the ugly un-kissable person I was… the person I’ve been all my life… doesn’t not exist anymore. He died my prince… you killed him. And I’m in some way deeply thankful for that… thanks to you I’m not the ugly duckling anymore. 

Am I insane? Maybe. Is it my fault? No

By now it's over. If you are reading this my

mission is complete. I have finished

revolutionizing the neoeuphoric infliction

of my internal terror. Your children who

have ridaculed me, who have chosen not to

accept me, who have treated me like I am not

worth their time are dead. THEY ARE FUCKING

DEAD. Surely you will try to blame it on the

clothes I wear, the music I listen to, or

the way I choose to present myself- but no.

Do not hide behind my choices. You need to

face the fact that this comes as a result of

YOUR CHOICES. Parents and Teachers, YOU

FUCKED UP. You have taught these kids to be

gears and sheep. To think and act like those

who came before them, to not accept what is

different. YOU ARE IN THE WRONG. I may have

taken their lives and my own- but it was

your doing. Teachers, Parents, LET THIS

MASSACARE BE ON YOUR SHOULDERS UNTIL THE DAY

YOU DIE.

. I did not choose this life, but I have

indeed chosen to exit it. You may think the

horror ends with the bullet in my head- but

you wouldn't be so lucky. All that I can

leave you with to decipher what more

extensive death is to come is "12Skizto".

You have until April 26th. Goodbye.

-- Fake Sucide Note of Eric Harris, April 19th 

Decencies

If you must commit suicide... always contrive to do it as decorously as possible; the decencies, whether of life or of death, should never be lost sight of.

-George Borrow

It’s some sort of emotional stupidity..

It’s some sort of emotional stupidity... why can’t I just fall in denial? Don’t be hurt by who I am? Like the prince does (in a very special way)... like everyone else does...

This is what it has come to isn’t it? Maybe I don’t wish I was normal... I just wish I could blend in... In the beautiful life everyone sees... I’m sick and tired of being ink spots... I’m sick of being cuts on my skin...

I’m sick and tired of being that person people always wonder... "What’s wrong with him?"

My mask... the best mask... is damaged... I forgot to put it on, my mom saw it... and I saw myself, a hypocrite a liar... a wreck... a mean human being... someone who is not only ugly on the outside is ugly on the inside...

(1 day late)

You can't do that on tv

"Three men in a television studio sit in front of a camera receive a loaded gun and begin to be confronted by the nonsensical, futility and absurdity of their lives, in the end the one who does not shoot himself is wins a fridge."- Chuck Barris

Death, to kill me, will need me as an accomplice

 Death, to kill me, will need me as an accomplice

-  Marguerite Yourcenar

I keep... screaming at you...

I keep... screaming to you... the universe... through comics; through stories, through the things you loved... everything.

Love is... Lois and Clark... Barbie and ken... They go through all kinds of incarnations, events, situations... just see each other, to meet each other, over and over and over again... because they love it so much.

Don’t expect the truth Xag.... don’t expect it to be revealed to you... you expect happiness... you expect nothingness... you expect, absolute and the divine... don’t expect. 

Choose... if you want those things you will have them, you can create them, you can choose them.

Don’t be stupid... don’t be an idiot! I know you like to hear the prince talk, let him teach you, but doesn’t pretend you don’t know… when you do. 

Sounds tough to hear it... but I speak so much to you... it hurts me you don’t listen. Yes gods can be hurt.

Ask the marquise de Sade girl out. Tell the prince first. He is amazing... you’ve seen him; you are getting to know him. 

Listen to Len. You’ve seen his wisdom too... his experience... yes its weird how many people choose to feel like you do... and yes you have chosen to do so.

You are free... you chose everything, everything in this moment, everything you have made, you have chosen.

Apologize.

Don’t let the world frighten you... you are beyond it. That’s what brings suffering to those you admire; they are frightened about the world. Don’t fear it, embrace it... I say this, because I know this is what you want. I know you think about suicide, I know you think about pain... but you are so desperately in search of life.

Publish that damn suicide letter… you are never going to use it.

Be smart... be conscious.... listen to people. Trust your instincts... don’t wait for someone to kiss you... Kiss someone.

Keep sharing yourself... you are in the right way, follow your own advise.... speak words that are true... think them carefully... do not fear silence.

Don’t expect immediate changes. Don’t expect your life to change after this, read it... re-read it.... re read your life... read this stupid diary! Read your book!

want to be suicidal... then be it... but be the kind of suicidal you wish to be... a happy one... want to cut yourself and be an addict... but then be the kind of addict you want to be... a sane one. Be who you want to be... doing expect to become, just be!

How do you do this?

By making choices, by doing the homework when you are supposed to be doing, it, by listening to other people. By asking them questions... people miss so much of each other by not asking simple questions... like... do you believe in god? Or... what do you feel when you taste candy?

Don’t be afraid to be intense, be cautious on when are you not being who you are.

Just read this words, because they are wise, you are wise, don’t analyze of they are true or not, if they are mine or not... just think about them, just read them again...print them out.

Xag. You are close to me. Xag, you are beautiful... I know you think its freaking lie, but I wouldn’t be saying it if you really didn’t to hear it. And it seems you need to hear it from me, because you won’t hear it from anyone else. You are beautiful and you do deserve someone you think is beautiful. Now Stop procrastinating and choose what you have to do.

(1 day late)

It is not a question of dying earlier or later, but of dying well or ill. And dying well means escape from the danger of living ill.

 It is not a question of dying earlier or later, but of dying well or ill. And dying well means escape from the danger of living ill. -  Seneca

I’ve been cutting since school…

Aw fuck… well… I’ve been cutting since school… only 3 people have noticed that I knew of. Aiacos, my English teacher… and today, my mom. Of all people… she was the only one that couldn’t ever know… 

“Did you subconsciously let your guard down to ask for help from the one person that will not give up on you?” 

I can’t relate to the beautiful… “An old ugly virgin”… there… that’s what should lie in my grave… it would sum up my existence… won’t it? Won’t it?

 NOW you don’t answer!!!… You…. you double faced bastard… you said we were all the same!!!… All created at your own perfect image… all to be loved equally… All but the freaks… All… but ME…

(1 day late)

On the contrary, it is impossible to justify his living

 There are always reasons for murdering a man," he explains. "On the contrary, it is impossible to justify his living"

- The Fall. Camus

Waiting… alone… in the dark.

Take a deep breath… its dark… its cold… I can see his breath in every exhale… The prince is light to me. Not the only light, I refuse to let him be my only light. But it’s a light to me none the less… he is faint, but so beautiful… but faint nonetheless… I’m hypnotized by it. I’m constantly waiting for it to shine… and waiting is exhausting. 

I comb my hair, I shower, and I pick my clothes carefully… I want to wow him so much… sometimes I think I succeed… until… well… he keeps me away from his life… 

If I ever read this… please, remember you were not that desperate or sad, or dramatic, you were sound of mind, you were being whole, and you were just looking at the world around you and writing what you saw… 

I got a half liter of pesticide poison seating in the kitchen... screaming “drink me”. I just have to figure out what kind of poison it is really, so I know the lethal dose -surviving with no esophagus does not sound appealing at all- 

I just don’t know who to ask, without seeming suspicious… mmm… ill figure it out. It’s just weird, because… it’s a long weekend, so I’ll have the time to do it. Everything has come together to just do it… it’s so easy…. of course it makes me wonder… 

The Suicide of Dorothy Hale

 

Dorothy was known for her incredible beauty and charm. In 1927, she married a painter by the name of Gardiner Hale. She only starred in two films in her entire life, but because of her husband, was friends with many in high society. On October 21st, 1938, Dorothy killed herself by jumping out of a sixteen story building. Later on, the Mexican artist Frida Kahlo made a famous painting of Dorothy known as "The Suicide of Dorothy Hale."

“Are you seeing the future now, or giving in to nothingness?” =

“Are you seeing the future now, or giving in to nothingness?”

 Life is unfair… the world is a cruel place… and love is dumb, blind, deaf and mute. 

How… just how is anyone claiming they are happy? Isn’t it just snobbish of them? It is not fair. 

(2 days late)

We tend to search a lot for meaning

We tend to search a lot for meaning. making sure everything we do makes sense in one way or another…. and the clue word is sense… sense because we have to know we are going somewhere, not just going in circles. My ethics teacher claims to possess de knowledge of the sense of life… isn’t it strange that “sense” can be felt? I feel like that something makes sense or that it doesn’t… 

It’s not a completely logical process, especially when someone explains their emotions things either make sense or they don’t… decisions in life wither make sense or they don’t… relationships either make sense or they don’t. We search for meaning, we are actually looking for sense… the real question every couple should ask themselves is… do we make sense? 

Now you could say: hey! Love doesn’t make sense! Its love!

Bullshit… 

I don’t believe in love that way… love for it to be love has to build, that means that there is no contradiction in within, contradictions destroy.

(2 days late)

I feel like I’m a stained crystal boy…

I feel like I’m a stained crystal boy…. a relic on someone’s attic, stained by time… I feel you can see right through me and that you can let me fall and break me in such an easy way… I feel like I could be so valuable and then I look at me and see something so cheap… I feel so great because it seems like you see something of value in what used to be junk… like that comic book you talked about last night, yellowed with time, ruined by mice … if anyone is going to reject my hugs I rather have it be you than anyone else…

 Ana and my sanity tell me I shouldn’t ever ask for kiss a hug, a wedgie, a shower or anything ever again… I should never ask you out again… I should play hard to get. 

 I don’t lie anymore… I’m so surprised how brutally honest I come out sometimes, to the prince specially… I don’t know, how can I look at him in the eyes and say the things I say… sometimes I’m even surprised how bad a liar I am now… and I was brilliant at it…

Why are you looking at the bullet?

"Why are you looking at the bullet?

Why? ... If you were thinking of lodged a bullet in your head, wouldn't you want a good look at it before loading the gun?

to good look at what?

As it has to walk through my skull, I want to know it well beforehand."

- Karamazov Brothers

Dear diary…

Dear diary… 

Tonight I had another great date with the prince… he is just great… what can I say... he is like, so beautifully flawed… he shared with me, like I’m sure he shares with others, I was just so glad to be included. He has of course more experience than I do… I feel 13 again… I said horrible things… I said beautiful things… he spoke… pretty lies, real truths… I took advantage and stared at his boxers while he checked the pc on my room… I was like… oh my god, is this hot ass is in MY room?! …so unsexy for someone so beautiful…. we didn’t have sex, we didn’t kiss, we didn’t even held hands… we just hugged… and again I thought it had been a good hug… we just talked and that was great… he went through my things... looking for something interesting… I think I disappointed him… my lameness… however I did felt sort of… innocent… no, that’s not the word…

I felt inexperienced… in a good way... like maybe he could show me stuff… -emotionally stuff I mean (you dirty minded people) … well maybe a little bit of physically stuff too. -

God he is so loveable… two dates… and I feel I could fall in love with him… it’s like… god I come out so desperate… things scare me… Daniel… this guy he knows… seems like he has really moved him forward, that he helps him do stuff he would never do with me… I still don’t know how on earth I’m good for him… I said the word wedgie, more than it was appropriate…

Will I ever be his prince? He held me in his arms… it was so sincere... or so it felt…

Then… I asked him for a hug goodbye… he refused… and there, right there, I was with my worst date ever again… right now I don’t think we will ever kiss, or hold hands or anything… maybe we are just going to be good friends…

I’m 13 again am I 13 for good?

I’m 13 again am I 13 for good?

I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful 

So unloved for someone so fine 

I can feel so boring for someone so interesting 

So ignorant for someone of sound mind

I was going to say today I couldn’t ever love him if I didn’t love myself… I was going to break up with him, because of irreconcilable differences… he liked me… but I didn’t like myself… I felt like I had to say good bye because I feared we were just going to get bored of each other… and that was the problem really:  fear;   I was completely and utterly afraid of him… of us… 

Why was I so scared? He had complete access to my dirty laundry and he liked it… but he hasn’t given me any access to his… why? What was the sick game we were entering? And if he saw the worse of me and liked it… today I tried to flirt with him… he hated it; I stopped… he then asked what I hated about myself…. I answered my body… which to what he had a moderate polite reply… and all I could think was… god I’ve had more passionate replies from YouTube freaks!

Maybe I am not much into self-loathing and more of a diva…

Maybe I put this entire thing out on line, because I deep down know… even my dirty laundry s worth for the world to see? 

Nonsense, I write because I have to… the same way I breathe, I have to write… and I publish it online, because I need to… because I need help… because I need to connect to the world in some way… because I know I can’t bottle this inside without hurting the people I care about…. I need to blow off some steam, so I can smile every morning, wear my masks calmly… I need to say all of this now because tomorrow I have to see the prince and I want him to see someone that’s not case of charity… but someone he can learn from… if he wants to… god I don’t know… he says so little about himself if I’m not asking…

(3 days late)