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Secrets of the Notes

It’s crazy the amount of conversations that will never happen I write down In my notes. Books that will never be read, thoughts that will never be spoken, stories that will never be told.

I probably already created a million universes by now, broke up with you a million times, married you five seconds later, became a world famous author had three kids and a dog. Yet none will ever know

All hypothetical situations that never came into fruition hanging out at the palm of my hand… Only the virtual pages of my notes has experienced them yet will never tell a single soul…

How much I thought created, loved, laughed, lived inside my head day after day year after year never having the courage to bring it to reality. The secrets in my notes. How badly I wanted… everything and more.

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Day 5- you know what?!

I literally just woke up, and I put on one of my sexiest underwear and I looked myself in the mirror totally feeling myself

Even though I gained some weight still feeling myself

Then I stared at myself a little more and I thought man if only ____ could see this he would love it. Shortly after at that thought I put my shirt down

And I was like “No! He doesn’t deserve me anymore! Where did my self respect go?! If he ever wants this again he better earn it!”

Then I smiled because I realized I’m starting to love myself again… and starting to realize he’s not as great as I thought, and this is the beginning of what can be an amazing day ✨

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Playing it safe?

Right now i am sitting in my bed room, and i am struggling to breathe… The reason being i am terrified.

I haven’t written in weeks, but right now it’s the only thing that can put me at ease.

You see i have a lot of feelings and words in my heart right now and it’s overwhelming me. I managed to pretend i have none like everyone for the past two months.

I put aside my journal and drawing pencils and replaced them with make up and work. Exhausting myself the first half of the week so i can just get home and pass out and the other half of the week get dressed up and go out.

It’s what everyone does right? It’s having my shit together. Whenever i draw and i write feelings just seep out of me and they’re scary.

especially “love”, the scariest of them all.

i fell in love for a second time, and i’m terrified, because it’s a feeling that is dying to burst out of me like i want to scream it from the top of my lungs.

but i can’t… i have to keep calm and pretend like it’s barely there.

i’m going crazy, like actually crazy.

because before i didn’t know, but now i know for certain i’m not alone in this…

I know the person loves me too he said it when he was drunk, and he showed it to me in the morning by holding my hand and tenderly kissing my forehead, while he was sober.

Still i can’t say it, because he will disappear, right now he’s just running away… i rather him run but still be close enough for me to see him.

Then completely disappear, because as he runs i can still admire him despite me not having him.

As i admire him, i can be motivated to be just as strong fast and independent as him, eventually catch up to him.

If he disappears completely then there is no motivation, inspiration to what kind of person i want to be.

when i met him he wasn’t very ambitious, he looked a little lost. then i talked to him about dreams and endless possibilities he has left me for them since then… or so it goes.

my theory is he doesn’t believe he can have both. A partner who truly loves him and ultimate success. that’s why he walked away from me even though he can’t hear the sound of my voice or look at my face without instantly feeling regret for pushing me away.

he rather tunnel vision his ambitions because, thats a guaranteed win he’ll definitely be successful if he works hard.

as with me even though i love him now and he loves me now, it’s a gamble, even if we work hard there is still a possibility that it may amount to nothing.

it’s not guaranteed formula you can put time + energy + care + emotion and still get nothing.

it’s illogical, irrational, and absurd.

But so was going to the moon, electricity, computers, medicine and democracy at some point.

Yet here we are.

Although it’s safe to work towards something thats guaranteed, sometimes the best things are when you work towards something that is uncertain and just believe that it’s so crazy it might work.

Maybe it’s when you’re about to give up and then just cause, you say fuck it and try one more time and make the best decision of your life.

The difference between, happy couples, billionaires, celebrities and everyday people.

Is not talent, luck, love, and popularity.

it’s that they didn’t give up. they didn’t play it safe even though love, life, people, luck, whatever fucked them over, they kept insisting until one day it worked, when most people already gave up.

so i’m sitting in bed right now, and i’m terrified of this love even though i know it’s mutual….

terrified he might not be as crazy and believe like me, terrified it’s not what i think it is, terrified one day it might end, terrified if i tell him he will behave like the last one

(even though they are totally different just the feeling is familiar)

so yeah i’m terrified i feel like i’m losing my mind.

I could play it safe, keep it to myself, put my pen down make up on and focus on things that are certain like work & going out, like i have been, for the past two months.

Filling up my schedule and making so much money to the point i don’t know how to feel anymore.

Kissing random strangers, and going out on dinners, with no fear knowing they will never compare to him, so i’ll be safe if it doesn’t work out my heart it won’t even break.

and still be able to admire him, even though he’s far away but still have him in my sky from time to time.

i could copy this link and press “send” and hope for the best and that he will read it and won’t disappear and live the ultimate movie adventure.

if i press “send” however, he might never read this and i might never see him again because he will choose safety over fear and call me batshit crazy for speaking such things.

I might never see him again lose a special person for a long time if not forever.

So i think i might just play it safe, like everyone else, keep quiet smile and hope i can catch up to him or he’ll stop running someday….

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My Sick Pleasure

i like his touch, because that is the kind of touch i’m used to…

The one that hurts just a little, but doesn’t kill. The aggression  feels like home. Feels like “love” the only love i know.. is the one that hits you all at once, like a swarming body of water you drown in it a little bit.

Something about that moment you are gasping for air makes it so real, makes you appreciate life a little more, when you lose your breath.

It’s a sick pleasure, but i am addicted to the pain, physical, emotional and mental. A moth that keeps getting burned. I love being happy and on top. Once again happiness makes me scared, because when it leaves i don’t know when it will be back… sometimes it feels like forever.

Pain however, is always there reminding me that it’s never going to leave. It’s a fucked up sense of stability, but no matter how my life changes it will always be there.

I think Pain is misunderstood frequently kind of like myself. Everyone thinks there is something wrong with pain, because it causes hurt and discomfort. Without pain how ever, you would be numb, oblivious to reality.

Hasn’t anyone told you the truth is ugly. It’s because the truth goes hand in hand with Pain. But like pain the truth is what keeps you awake and alive.

Although, I don’t recommend my sick addiction to it, however pain in certain quantities is healthy and necessary for survival.

However i become to used to it’s company and sometimes it kills me…

Sometimes.

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Writing is an art

Just like drawing, playing an instrument, performing a dance, painting etc. are all arts so is writing. It seems a lot of people don’t realize this, because most of the time it is utilized for simple communications, and often it’s potential is taken for granted.

Writing is an art form which a person expresses themselves with non verbal words, with these words the writer is  capable of taking his/her audience to another place, make them see/feel things, without drawing an actual picture.

Therefore, there isn’t such thing as a good or bad writing because writing is subjective like every other art form, it depends on who is spectating. What some thing is great, others may think is terrible and it varies from person to person.

With that being stated, I am really unsure the kind of writer I am, my writing varies from audience and purpose. If I’m writing for pleasure as i do here my writing is passionate and sincere. If i am writing for an internship I am a curious writer, because I often need to investigate and dissect the topic I’m working on like some sort of scientist.

Lastly for academics, I am an anxious writer because I feel as if I’m restricted and stripped from my authenticity and voice, in academia one does not often write for oneself which is how it should be but they write to impress another and when you write to impress another in a sense you are betraying the art. That kind of feeling gives me anxiety.

Nevertheless, I still practice my craft and never tell yourself you can’t practice it as well because of something a teacher/professor told you in school. There is no good or bad and if it’s what you love keep at it.