The Her-story Of Nyxx

About me

Well hi!

Thank you first and foremost for taking time to look into my blog.

This will be kinda like a public journal, a safe space I can be vulnerable and express myself.

Posting will be on Fridays so make sure to stay locked in <3

We’re starting the night with Pierce The Veil! Just like we’re 13, up all night with flashlights, reading (This time it’s Alexandria, time to learn about your culture) and the end of tonight won’t end in the darkness talking to the moon.

I know you miss your dad, what could’ve been with your babies, and what ever follows next.

Most of all you miss him.

(You’ll never admit it but I know)

Can you keep a secret?

I miss most of how we first been.

Original, organic, authentic.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The real him is what I prayed for, to share the rest of my life with…

It’s dark mentally.

The longing I’m feigning for deep, deep, deep down inside.

Longing for hugs that are no longer accessible.

A hug that carries warmth that cannot be placed into words, just exaggerated sighs.

How do you even hold yourself down?

What truly causes you to alter your perception to be what it is this day?

Is there truly a God above? If so, which prayers of mine has he heard?

Life is supposed to be a privilege but all I can think about is dying.

No, this isn’t a form of my suicide note. Although so many wish death on me, I feel it’ll happen soon again, and it’ll be definite.

I won’t make it to 30 and that’s okay.

22 year old me shouldn’t have known or experienced all I have so far without nearing to the end. Everything has been resurfacing for months. I fell in love with drowning. I was never meant to be saved. If it was two years ago I should’ve been buried.

As a child I loved the water,the upside down, and the night sky.

How I still speak to the moon,

Loneliness was nonexistent.

Now, I speak and it’s holding his eyes.

Once was bliss morphed into pain. The pain is ghutural

Eyes closed with stars inside her head. She’s dizzy. Just like Coraline she has the power of a water witch. How she wanders, one foot in front of another without a steady pace she often trips on herself.  A ticking continues to go off in her ears, in reality it’s a constant reminder that she’s anxious but she calls it the rabbit’s pocket watch. She wanders in order to count all the dead leaves, the ones that haven’t fallen, and cracks on pavement. She likes the smell of cold air and dry dirt. She feels a strange sense of welcomeness through nature. During the Spring it’s the dew left on fresh green grass that speaks to her. How she wanders when dandelions are marshmallow white, she follows those wishes hoping whenever she blinks and they soon disappear, they would come true. She can’t be too close with the tulips, daffodils, or daisies. As much as they call for her and she’ll love to lay with them, her body rejects them with hives. She shudders; another reminder that she’s anxious, she isn’t nervous about walking into the unknown. She’s just on the verge of tears. Summer rolls on by and she shudders with the waves. They calm her enough that she's cries. One foot in front of the other she doesn’t stumble on the beach. Tasting the sand doesn’t bother her at all. In fact the harsh breeze reminds her of all the times her heart rushed its beats laying her eyes on him. How she wanders during those summer nights with wet grass and a blanket. Eyes only focused on the stars connecting all and listening to the moon narrating each story. Stories of love and everlasting life. Stories of him. Stories of the future. Stories of lions to aliens to this lifetime’s society. How she wanders…

You told me pretty lies that danced inside your eyes

     But your eyes were empty 

Slithered within your smile                                                    

And your smile was forced

“I Love You”                                                                             A lie 

A concept                                                                               The cover up

An emotion                                                                      

A statement that never was true

A way of life you couldn’t understand,            

You understood, I just wasn’t “The One”

Like brittled clay I felt played                               

Molded me into someone brand new      

I’ve danced with the devil until my nails glued onto him through the heat he compressed inside every inch of me      

We Held Our Twisted Tango

I became a puppet whose strings were tugged and pulled on until the blood ran cold

That smile, he pulled the strings harder so thy cheeks wiped the tears filled with agony and lost hope                                  

A Toy

What path was I led on to believe?       

Dorothy wouldn’t even know

What other mind games should we play?      

We played them all

As I lay my head on your chest for the very last time;  

 As I lay my head on your chest for the very last time

I heard no heartbeat

I heard no heartbeat

I felt no life,

I felt  no life,

No warmth,

No warmth,

Hollow

Hollow

The stars aligned last night. While the rain softly landed on my window. The universe spoken in whispers. “Stay dreaming.” Awakened as the whisper presented a cold chill on the back of my neck. As the light blinded my eyes for a millisecond, the day started. “Stay dreaming.” whether ‘ll it’ll be a pretty little demon who visits me in my nightmares or would it be the alien who songs me lullabies before I fall into a deep slumber. “Stay dreaming.” As if my dreams were supposed to be my entire entity and reality. If dreams are dreams, what am I living in? Let my well being determined by what eyes follow. I follow big plans, my dreams are bigger than the largest palm ever faced on Earth. Stay dreaming.

It's trickling;

The bitterness,

The anger,

The pain,

It's the slow cold rain that tickles my face until the sudden change and thunder shakes the Earth I'm standing on. 

I'm soaking,

Flooded,

I'm drowning.

I let the heavy winds scratch my delicate face and allow those tears to fall. 

I miss the warmth the sun provided.

Months come and go and I'm always alone 

You were my sun 

Where

Did 

You

Go? 

I was never the pretty girl

The happy girl

The skinny girl

No I was;

That slut

That bitch 

“Who’s that”

“Oh her”

“She’s easy”

I used to care, I don’t anymore

Honestly I wished I died October Third,2016

I wish I swallowed all those pills and I guess that’ll be my secret everyone pricks and prys me for

I’m not a puppet  so please stop attaching these strings onto me

Stop using your magic marker and plastering that smile onto my face

I’m unhappy

The somberness lingers in the thump of my heart 

I exhaled the echoes of death asking me to join them

I am Pandora's Box and that’s why I’m feared

I get lonely too

I too can love

I too can hold

I too can care

But if nobody hears me why should I for an ounce feel the need to matter?

I count the calories

I fall down the rabbit hole

I’m exhausted

Honey, I’m Tired

Long,strong thorns glued onto her, but yet she’s still considerably a flower. Whoever holds her bleeds. They speak of blooming but honey she’s wilting. She’s fascinated with the afterlife but can’t see she’s already walking the deep dark hallway that leads onto death’s door. Shadows of smoke follow her. She’s a sad girl. She’s a bad girl. A gone girl. Like smoke. Essence of warm musk and vanilla. Caused her a lot of unwanted attention from the animals. She hated them. They would cut her vines and takes pieces of her. The rose didn’t know herself. She dreamt of being a lily. No chaos,no animals. Still water. She would be peace instead of war. No one could love her. The love for darkness only is followed by some light. She holds no light. Black lace hugs her every curve and her knuckles are bloody. Long black hair cascades down her back. Her mother always told her, her legs could kill and her pouty lips will get her far. Nobody knew that’s what she hated most of herself.She hated her physical form. She hated her heart. She hated her soul. Good intentions bring sorrow is all she learned. She’s wilting. 

She paints it red. Her petals, I mean. She started with a blank canvas. She could’ve chosen a soft pink,vibrant yellow or orange, or even a lilac. But why red? Is it through her experience of pain? A deep crimson, no.  Burgundy. Deeper than crimson. Her pain holds her with a beauty; A beauty that continues all stares and causes all jaws to drop.

She’s closed with such abstract features in which when in full bloom leaves any being breathless and in peace. She was the physical attraction of art, and art wasn’t meant to be beautiful. Her walk traces the sweetest smell and it is all the light follows that. It cascades from the top of her frame down to her viney toes.

She is Grace.

It’s that itch you constantly can’t scratch 

It’s the what ifs and what was

It’s those negative thoughts you can’t fight off

The doubts 

Ohhh don’t get me started by those doubts

It’s the trembling

Shaking

Aching 

You’re unable to catch your breath

It’s whether you’re worried when you’re not

It’s that inbetween state of mind when you see all but can’t follow the fucking light 

You become difficult

Irrational 

Stubborn

All because it feels like ever exhale is the breath of death

It’s when you twitch, twitch, twitch

It’s the silent killer, steady arms and sniper pointed right at my heart

It’s what ruined my self esteem and relationships with all those I cared and ever loved 

Damn, anxiety

I wish to never meet you again

I’m just a silly dreamer

A little girl

Full of Promises 

I can make you my world

I’ll show you why the moon shines, inside your eyes

And all you wanna Know 

I can be your whole life

I’m just a silly dreamer

I say I’m sad without a thought,

It hits me like a thousand rays and if you know anything about me I hate sudden brightness but it isn’t until golden hour I’ll think about him.

I guess these are my confessions like this one Usher song. 

As much as I say I’m over it he was my best friend.

I trusted him with all my heart, soul, and secrets 

It became nothing but something he cried to the world

Bittersweet, beetlejuice

The bitter truth I was stupid to fall for him. 

The bitter truth he loved another the entire time. 

And I’m told I should speak my truth, but I’m afraid.

The first time I ever spoke my entire life story including all the ugly tears,panic attacks, and isolation was with him. 

Why’d he had to use everything I had no control over against me?

I question my own self worth daily and honestly I’m so used to being taken advantage of that I just don’t care anymore.

And no this isn’t the godforsaken PITY PARTY, as if that shit doesn’t continue to haunt me if it isn’t his perfect smile and when I’m trying to sleep the demons away.

He..

Grips...

Tighter…. 

Like I’m supposed to be a part of him still.What good does that even do?

Am I able to even let go while he still holds me so tightly?

He’s gone.

Has been.

Witnessed the thing he became buried his true self and also buried me alive. 

Stupid girl.

Stupid girl in love.

Stupid girl is lost.

I'm lost 

I'm found 

I'm opened 

I'm closed

Opposites attract like magnets 

North Pole 

South Pole

Fire 

Ice 

What am I supposed to do with myself now 

Laughing 

Crying 

The PTSD won't end but what do I tell my friends, let alone my family 

The universe won't stop its own little orbit but why did I? 

I can let go but how can I? 

Haunted

I wished for your moons, suns, and stars 

All those beautifully hidden in your facade 

Bloody tears I can only ever feel

Free me!

Free me!

Free me!

All my demons scream

“But he loves me.”

Liar!

Liar!

Liar!

They laugh as the strings pull harder

Let Me Go

I don’t know my name.

You probably heard of it tho

You probably heard of things “I’ve done”

Little do you know; That isn’t what I’ve done. That’s not what I do.

You feel justified to judge me based on what you heard but not what you know.

Have you ever held a conversation with me?

Were you there in My darkest times?

I act like im blinded by the glares, stares, and mean mugs

I act like im deaf by the laughs and whispers that follow me in the halls and in the streets 

You may say you know me, but that was the old me.

Do you know me now?

I had my own garden

You loved the flowers that bloomed

I cared for the flowers that sprouted out of love 

I had my own garden

You hated every flower in full blossomed

The flowers wilted

I resented my own garden

You told me nothing special ever came out of me 

I continued to let the flowers rot

I killed my own garden

You were gone

Im becoming more numb…

To everything.

My thoughts are racing but the drugs are mellowing me down. I don’t want to be alone tonight. I can’t change it either.

Mango made everything so much better.

I’m thinking about Romeo & Juliet again, to love once more follows.

I think it’s best to be alone for a while.

Stupid Phrase keeps replaying in my head all day.

I’ve never felt so exhausted. My tears are all dried out.

I don’t know him anymore. I still feel so alone. I know I can’t share any of this cause concern is shallow.

Nobody’s really cares when you get through everything alone.

I’m done dealing.

My heart is still broken. My dad is still dead. Who’s next?

What’s next?

I was told I was end game .

But here I am;

End of the game.

Alone.

I’m the problem.

I can fake it a little longer.

A depressive and manic state.

It’s been better the last two days but some old patterns are beginning to regress.

Most of the time I’m numb.

Rest of the time I’m longing.

But why am I longing to love again?

Is it to love someone like or more than you did when it came to him?

He was a soulmate. A lesson.

Why is it so hard to get close to anyone else?

To bond with anyone else?

The invisible string theory has been heavy on my mind.

If God, or whatever higher being can hear me; have them surf to me please?

I miss my best friend. I understand cold nights now. It’s overdue.

…So he called.

We talked through a fake number??

It was a comedic experience overall.

He mainly projected and self admitted to everything that’s gone on since we broke up.

Poof, all my paranoia is gone.

He still thinks of me daily, still watches my socials daily, still thinks I’m the girl who he met when we were both 16.

I don’t know if the universe is truly just hearing me out and my words really hold that much power.

Let’s start with the positives. You’re not in jail, didn’t have a complete psychotic break, or die.

Getting paid for actually working hard is yet another and new flex, learning to be stress free. All bills secured!!

You’re back on traxk with school and even on the worst days you’w holding a massive love for commitment and learning.

I’m proud of us.

Craziest part of it all, I wasn’t crazy about anything in the last year. No paranoia .

As scary as it’s been I forgave him. Truly believe I can be in the same space and not fight or fuck. Just talk,cry,and laugh like all those late nights when we were kids.

This is still peace.

Feelings are feeling like resurfacing,

Ending old cycles. I don’t know what this chapter of my life can be called anymore. I’ve already died

Today honestly has been a big recovery day.

So much and so little reflection had been done and I don’t know why.

I’m suppressing again but I feel like I can explode any momen. It’s not even anger, almost orgasmic.

Feels like all these chapters are meant to be glued together.

He passed by a few times in thought,he really played a major role on my own upcoming.

The Lord says to forgive

I did so.

Forgetting is harder.

This is a whole new person whose eyes I feel like I’ve seen 5000 years in different lifetimes .

Soft symphonies play behind a loud bass in the background,

This is how you hear my hear my heart,

To all the words I still cannot confess,

Am I crazy?

Invasions of privacy comes whenever you dissect every chord,

Every chorus,

Every word.

How do you still read through me in these muddy waters?

Are you really meant to be here?

I exhale as the bass booms deeper.

I’m naked and breathless.

Yet you still kept my clothes on.

How do you do this so easily?

You’ve done it before.

It hits 1:55

“No I don’t have to read your mind.”

It seems like lifetimes ago…

I don’t want it to end.

It’s a fucked up kinda dream

2018 seems to keep trying to come up and spook me.

“Will you stay?” Written on the calendar, March 3rd,2018.

What the actual fuck Nicole??

Will I stay?

I stayed too long where I shouldn’t have. All forms of people, jobs, and situations.

I don’t want to stay anymore.

Is this letting go or giving up? I can’t decide, but today is the day I stop grieving the past.

Overdue.

I think my ending is nearing, at least you’ll have these memories

From the notes app at 5:23 Am.

“I love you to the moon and back…

But do you love me enough to send me to another man ; for he is the moon?”

This can be seen one or two ways.

I’m bitter

Or

I’m letting go.

I wanna believe the second one.

I’m not ready for love but my chest aches for someone I never laid eyes on.

In my imagination it’s him.

Fallen madly,beyond stars and milky ways.

He’ll feel the same as I do.

He’ll love every part of me .

I’ve grown old to this good girl gone bad scene. I can’t remember when it started but I’ve always been this way.

Calming down with storms that arrive, I’m disgustingly aware Ive made it unbearable to love me in 2024; what was was the cause for this snap and twist?

I feel beyond guilty.

When did society lie about love being so easy?

And why is loneliness the only way out to just get back in?

I’m not made of stone but I feel as dense,brittle, and cold.

To call that beauty sounds insane now.

Numb.

Crossfaded and numb.

“Don’t deny me”

“I still love you”

“I sacrificed cause I love you”

But why cheat on me? Why build a home just for it to be broken witb someone who you say you don’t love? Who you claim doesn’t love you?

Why break me in the process?

It’s not love.

It’ll never be love again. Nothing is even real.

I’m just existing but I’m praying for the day the air is clean, starting new again.

I allowed someone to walk all over me again.

I just wanted to be loved.

Am I not enough?

It’s been about a week since the incident.

I have never in my life chose to forget someone so fast; the universe seems to agree.

I met my Hades soon after and all 6 years disappeared.

“Don’t deny me.”

His voice booms.

I was always locked out, denied entry.

Confused

I finally wasn’t denied and I’m sprung.

I don’t know what’s real again.

Physically on soil,breathing.

But this isn’t living.

If I could end it all I could.

I would.

I would drown.

But why am I so scared?

I’m replaceable and craving a new vessel.

The healing became a new painful addiction.

The emotions are crushing my skull.

I’ve already Sabotaged it all.

They’ll see.

I truly believe I am numb to all pain if not physically inflicted.

I want to move on so I will.

Don’t save, just be here when I save myself.

All I ever I ever want to scream, let me come home…

Soon preferably.

Life has been strange.

I can’t be sober, I feel safer this way.

I’ve never felt so terrified to be alive.

The pain is deep inside and I don’t want to hold on truly.

“ you say you love the rain, but you open your umbrella. You say you love the sun, but you find a shadow spot. You say you love the wind, but you close your windows. This is why I’m afraid when you say you love me too.”

-Shakespeare

Heaven sent 

How do you treat an angel? 

Clipped wings, dried tears,blue knees 

Oh angel..

Why were you given such a battle at first breath? 

Wipe your eyes, for you are strong 

I live as an imposter.

     A POSER 

Multiple lives with multiple theme songs.

This isn’t the Truman Show? 

NO

I live behind a mask.

A FACADE

Breathe,blink, act innocent.

IM GUILTY BY ASSOCIATION 

You see, I’m also the judge and guard.

CONVICTED 

Came with the day the mirror morphed me into who I am.

SOMEONE UNRECOGNIZABLE 

I live as an imposter.

It sucks. The productivity comes from rage but I am so far from repeating the cycle of crashing.

This bitter ass taste won’t leave my tongue so isolation been saving me from using my sly mouth from saying smart remarks I wouldn’t mean and are hurtful.

Who even knows why I’m hurting at this moment.

I know I don’t.

I’m raging hard.

I know I should exhale all the negativity and let go. But it makes me even madder I can mask it.

I mask it well.

I can show I’m fine when my insides are in filled with poisonous stew bubbling to get out out of me.

That’s dramatic. Whatever.

I should be allowed to be a little dramatic. Better than being closed off.

U think the weirdest part of this shift is that I’m bringing back years of my life, pieces and experiences I’ve kept closed off off and let rumors just wander to resurface.

Not even 24 hours and here comes the people I’ve let go of too.

I don’t want to fail this test from the universe

I don’t want to hold this rage.

And I don’t want the man made conclusion it’s the internet.

It’s not, it never was, it never will be.

Damaged girl grown to damaged woman

Healing all wounds,kissing all scars, mending her heart.

I was never perfect either but I was never malicious.

I missed the rage; but it came with naivety.

I’m not stupid anymore.

I couldn’t love myself properly, why are these people coming out of the shadows prepping for another round of chess?

They didn’t love me properly either. I gave them more chances than myself.

Please God, don’t let me make the same old mistakes.

I am infected. It feels so poisonous as it lingers through me 

Where did it even stem from? 

What’s it for? Am I even close to making the right choice? 

Something has changed in me.

I still don’t understand why after so many years. I’m left with no more tears, surprisingly.

Do I finally understand what being lonely should be like?

I’ve separated myself from everyone,I don’t know why anymore:

I’ve come to the conclusion I am also missing everything who has hurt me. 

I am infected. It’s not a disease. 

It could be why every myth holds some reality to it.

I am infected.nothing lasts .

I am infected. It feels so poisonous as it lingers.

I am infected; By unhappy endings.

Some days I think about how life would’ve been like if I didn’t miscarry the first time, that if I didn’t get pregnant at 16 by someone who wasn’t going to be there in a year. What would change? Would I then fast forward to thinking I found the love of my life? Would the same exact pain resurface?

I think about how when I was 16 I would’ve just needed a hug that it’ll be okay and these men don’t love me, I’ll have to love me.

And those babies weren’t mistakes it just wasn’t my time, they’re not meant to be in either of our lives cause they’ll soon find their “forever” months later.

While I still grieve and pick up pieces I kept broken after years of drug use at age 23.

It hasn’t gotten better, yet I’m given a timestamp of when to let go and having to watch everyone else live freely, forgetting that I had life growing once inside me. Why am I the only stuck with the memories?

I wonder how safe heaven is for them up there, and if they are safe they would never know the coldness that comes with heartbreak and betrayal.

I pray over them and see them in stars cause they would never deserve anything that followed with my life.

I can’t go back in time and experience that love I had finding out about them. I still dream of the ultrasounds, the first time I’ll hold them, singing lullabies, down to braiding my daughters hair.

This is what haunts me.

If I were popular I know the support would be different. But I know I’m not the only one. I know social media is not a diary.

It just all still hurts like if it occurred in present day.

It’s not in my head, the experience to the positive test (blood included) were never faked.

I don’t know how to cope anymore.

This isn’t really an entry but more of a thank you.

Thank you to those who have faith in my my visions,

The ones who are still reading and giving me a chance.

Also wanted to thank those who are reading,gawking, and mocking behind the screen.

I didn’t do this for them.

I didn’t do this to gain clout or popularity.

Mostly I do not want any pity.

I’m a dreamer and believer.

Thank you for letting me be who I am regardless of how you feel.

Thank you for the pain and pleasure it comes with accepting I’m on the right path being authentically myself.

Even if we agree to disagree.

Thank you for letting me share my story.

Much love.

I went back to 505

Didn’t take me 45

Or a 7 hour flight 

I wonder if you still remember my hands between my thighs

Stop and wait a sec

Look at me like that my darling 

What did you expect? 

I still adore you, hands around your neck 

Last time I checked 

We lost our spark 

Fell off real short of the mark, the knife gets sharp 

In my imagination, we’re looking for our start 

I went back to 505 

Didn’t take me 45 

Or a 7 hour flight 

I kept my hands between my thighs 

Do you remember our time? 

And I still crumble completely when you cry 

Please don’t you say goodbye 

I don’t want to spoil the surprise 

I was blind

I went back to 505 

Didn’t take me 45 

Or a 7 hour flight 

Imagining you’ll find me waiting lying’ on my side 

With my hands between my thighs 

And a smile. 

I won’t confide myself to a mold of my past.

I can love those memories, love those demons, love the hate.

And no one would have to understand me but God.

Realize more daily I’m okay with expressing the “ugly side” of life.

Doesn’t make me less than then next.

Doesn’t fault my own standards I’m growing to appreciate.

Just means growth.

Today I’m happy I’m growing. Tomorrow I might be resentful.

I’m grateful for this outlet now.

I’m grateful to know I can be safe and learning to do so as myself still.

I was an honest kid.

An honest woman now just carrying sins.

But don’t we all?

I think that’s what makes us all beautiful in our own ways

In the center of the furthest cloud sat a small blue boy. Head lost in the “whys”, “what if’s”, and “buts”. He’s the reason for the saying “you’ve got your head in the clouds” He’s like your conscience. I don’t think it’s wrong to have him watching under. It’s almost like heaven and he smiles down when you wander. The small blue boy gets lonely up there. Because being in the clouds means you’re there with the inverted moon; and the sun’s warmth seems to be the only thing that holds him. But night and day never meet. Blue boy is also the saying “once in a blue moon” because blue boy embraces the moon when the sun isn’t warm. Blue boy is the reason the gods and goddesses rejoice in greece. He’s the reason for the rain. 

Violated.

To be violated is by definition is “to have a law, agreement, principle, or something that should be treated with respect, broken or acted against; it can also mean to be treated with disrespect or to have one's privacy or rights infringed upon.“

I’ve been reflecting on how many times that I can remember of being violated.

How many times did I continue to allow the same violation or worse.

“You can really take it, most girls don’t “

“I thought you were a fighter”

Phrases haunt me as I’m frozen and hollow in present day reliving these encounters.

“You asked for it”

Is what I heard daily.

I’ll hold myself accountable, I didn’t ask.

It shouldn’t have happened.

I didn’t fight them off every single time. I didn’t want it .

“The way you look and act you’re begging for it to happen, and look it did”

Confidence does not equal access.

My past is not my present

I am allowed to change.

I don’t hold my worth by the weight of others, tomorrow it could be them.

God forbid it is, but I know they didn’t want it

They didn’t ask

That doesn’t make them less than.

But I digress, I hold myself accountable.

There were times I consented and took Back consent.

There were times I stoop my values so low, I didn’t keep it private.

That’s on me.

I still was violated.

It haunts me.

My culture 

Mi cultura

Something I end up being so shy about

Algo por lo que termino siendo tan tímido

But why?

¿Por qué?

Why am I scared to embrace this part of me?

¿Por qué tengo miedo de abrazar esta parte de mí?

I loved the beauty in my culture all my life

Me encantó la belleza de mi cultura toda mi vida

The food, the music, the elements in nature

La comida, la música, los elementos en la naturaleza

The empathy, the intelligence

La empatía, la inteligencia

I never see this much joy in American culture

Nunca he visto tanta alegría en la cultura estadounidense

My culture

Mi cultura

Don’t ever lose that light

Nunca pierdas esa luz

I don’t even know what to write to be honest.

I’ve been eating good most days,sleeping less.

Working out and praying more.

I haven’t this close to God in a while, even with all the thunderstorms and rain clouds flooding my brain.

The last time I really remember loving church and devotional to the scripture has to be March 17 2013.

I wish I still had pictures, twelve year old me carrying Bible, fully dressed for church and the church my family and I attended at the time celebrated St Patrick.

Ironically it’ll turn into my Dad’s death date six years later.

I don’t really remember us getting along then either but now that he’s gone it’s weird he still hasn’t left my memory.

I think about him daily.

I remember his scent,his laugh, mainly his rage.

He used to turn to God too after his storms turned over.

I think about what if I’m subconsciously following his pattern and the only person I’m abusing is myself.

Or if in his life he had this same “crisis” within himself before having me, before marrying my mom, before giving me my brother.

I wonder why he flipped and turned to hurt me the same as others done to him, and why I was sworn to secrecy.

I just know I never want to be like him.

I hope I’m doing this life shit right and I break that cycle truly.

Spooked, confused. But feeling.

My dreams never make any sense till it’s spoken into existence,

Why can’t I let go of the hold? Can they feel it too?

Do they also talk to the moon?

Do the stars even hear me?

Distraught.

Not heartbroken, those wounds have been longed healed.

Addicted to pain.

Someone who was once close to me told me “you thrive off it, I’ve never see you happier if it didn’t hurt you In the midst of it.”

It was a heated argument and I know things are said in the moment but those words still cross me day to day. Lately it’s be playing like a silent movie in my head during meditation, but yesterday was Sunday and I pray. To hear it in prayer brought chills down my neck to the tips of my fingers.

I can’t help but think I’m too broken. Damage beyond repair regardless of all the work I put in. I know who’s hurt me, I know when I hurt myself, I know when I hurt others. But the insatiably urge that every life moment must endure with a form of heartbreak. I usually break my own when life is rewarding and that’s my problem. I don’t feel deserving of any good that’s come along for as long as I remember. Is my soul guilty?

Am I made of guilt constructed by society and myself?

Do I love it?

It has been agonizing revisiting a rumor that wasn’t a rumor after all.

6 years of my life stripped for a $20 bet.

How can I not still be angry?

Whose karma am I paying off?

But I’ve been wrong? I had to be.

I stayed. He treated me how ever he liked and I stayed.

I stayed naked and vulnerable. Metaphorically and physically just like I am to you; the readers.

Difference is I was willing to strip for him.

I think I really make these entries cause I’m going to be the next dead. I know paranoia and it has to be a form of some sort of a psychological disorder.

My spirit died the first wave. My physical body lingers and I question why I’ve made it so far. Or why I can’t remember good things or even good people. A part of me believes I’m just as bad as everyone has made me. I had to have deserve it all. But when is my punishment over? It’s not fair I spent 6 years devoted because of a stupid bet. It’s it fair I’m made less than and told to move on like nothing happened. I was forced to love on cause he got her pregnant after 6 years. Why can’t I ever talk about how my life changed in a day? Why am I still picking up pieces, or should I say Pennie’s. I’ve been raped,abused, but nothing has ever made me as worthless as this. Yet I’m the one who apologized. I’ve been numb ever since I think that was the last time I was ever going to allow myself to feel. I flipped my entire life, living with the guilty conscience of a boy turned man. Never my own. I hope life does get better.

Healing sucks.

Seems like life is sorting out??

Long time, no dump.

I don’t know I feel like I’ve been shying myself from posting on here now that I rampaged wrote out every once of experiences that replay in my 24 hour day.

It’s my PTSD.

I think that’s the saddest part but I currently been numb and productive.

Waves of feeling past feelings to an extremity and then I sink back under to where the water is cold and safe and I feel nothing at all. I’ve come to a conclusion my nervous system is a pussy and my brain is made up of a grown man that outlived all world wars and was able to serve our country.

Hes batshit crazy. I named him Joe after my first neighbor. I hope he’s still alive and if my brain was this whole human force I envision they would’ve gotten along so well.

More on updates I haven’t been writing much cause I’ve been working. Yay!

Ew- anyways..

I missed how I used to have everything taken care of and being free. Trips every weekend, new photos to take, diffeeent cultures. So it probably is gonna be rare to see a post, kinda need to start actually living in my life than be warped in the past.

Even better I’m currently at the stage I can’t feel and it’s AMAZING

It gives me a drive and concisiousness mistaken for naivety.

And IM ALONEEE.

Yesss

I can breathe. I will keep breathing.

06/21/2025