" I wish I was educated. I wish I knew what to do. I wish I knew how to act, how to control myself. I wish I wouldn't get frustrated all the time. I wish I didn't let people get to me. I wish I knew how to stop being so god damn stupid. I wish I'd stop feeling so fucking sorry for myself."

      
  said the girl sitting in the booth of the dim room.

EVA

Sometimes I fear that the wrong people are becoming famous. I fear that talented people are blooming into creative wizards in the proximity of their home towns, and no further. It makes me sad. I want nothing more that to be able to throw someone out into the world and have everyone acknowledge them, love them, embrace them, accept them. But I know that's not how it works, and I know that if I tried to expose someone so brilliant and pure, they would only be ruined by the perversions of human kind. It's a little dramatic, but true nonetheless. Though the risk is ever present, I refuse to let this diamond go unnoticed. And so I've devoted this post to my good friend. I don't think I've ever met someone so grounded and pure as her. I truly believe that she sees things like no other human can, and she captures them in her pictures. 

reminiscing

I found this picture I took of my sister 6 years ago on our favorite beach in San Diego. I don't think I've ever wanted to go back to the west coast so badly.

Shuddup, Idiot.

What is wrong with us?

Why do we want so badly to be loved?

Why are we so insecure and ashamed?

Why do we push away people who love us?

Why can't we accept someone's love?

Why can't we hold hands and kiss freely?

Why do tears stream down our cheeks when he pulls our hair behind our ear?

Why does kissing make you sad?

Why are people so heartless?

Why do we let people hurt us?

Why do we conform?

BECAUSE. 

We're all just a bunch of losers with no identity or self worth and it's disgusting. 

I hate us. I hate all of us. We're so convinced that we're worthless without a brand or the latest fad.

We refuse to ever be alone. To the bathroom, to the store, to our private places, etc.

We're pathetic. You're pathetic. I'm pathetic. 

What is wrong with me?

What is wrong with you?

What is wrong with us?

Something really is wrong with me. And I don't know what it is.

I know that I brought this all on myself. I know that I deserve this. I'd do anything not to be this way. I'd do anything to make it up to everyone. And to not have to see a psychiatrist, who explains to me about being "passive agressive." And to not have to take the medicine he gives me, which is too expensive for my dad. And to not have to talk about bad memories with him. Or be nostalgic about bad things.
I just wish that God or my parents or Sam or my sister or someone would just tell me what's wrong with me. Just tell me how to be different in a way that makes sense. To make this all go away. And disappear. I know that's wrong because it's my responsibility, and I know that things get worse before they get better because that's what my psychiatrist says, but this is a worse that feels too big.

********************************

IT'S A NEW DAWN

IT'S A NEW DAY

IT'S A NEW LIFE

********************************

AND I'M FEELING GOOD

I just can't seem to be content.
I look in the mirror everyday and I think, "who is this?"
Sometimes I feel pretty, and I stand there staring at myself, wishing people could see me like this.
But I spend the whole day inside. Closed away in a dark room. I'll cry out for people to come. To love me. To want to spend their evenings in my company. But I stay silent. I'll never ask them to come. I'm too ashamed. I'll never tell them that it bothers me, that I don't like it. But I expect them to be able to read my mind. I hate it.
I'm so tired of myself. I want to change everything. To be able to be someone completely different than the day before, and stay that way. But no. That's not how it works. People tell me it's simple. That I can be whoever I want to be. But they'll never understand.
"i'm stuck between my love and my culture."
I just want to feel okay being myself. I just want people to be able to see that I'm strong. That I'm fine. That I'm capable of being anything I want to be. But not yet. As soon as I can, I'll be gone. I'll be independent. I'll be far far from this place. Maybe I'll talk to some people still. Maybe I'll keep some connection to my old life. But that's all.