Coastal Dreams

For my future lover, a kiss of goodnight

It is not healthy to dwell in negativity cursing myself and asking on and on why did I have to be born here? It doesnt matter, I am here now, and I cant leave so I might as well find a little happiness and be the best person I can be. Gosh

This is why you have to work harder, this is why you have to read, this is why you have to study, do not let ANYONE to make you feel small and unimportant. Do not let anyone to make you feel like a drug addict. Promise yourself that. Do not let anyone ignore your pain and ridiculized it. Dont bring up weed to him ever again. Do the stuff yourself. Look for someone that is willingly to do the work without judging you. There's already enough pain inside your head. Do not let him ridicule you, it is already happen to many times. You know what you are to him, unemployed artist living in his house, you smoke weed and you drink lean, he may never say it but the pitty in his voice always shows, always comes to light, how many more times are you gonna let him treat you that way? Make money, do stuff for yourself, If from this moment on, you dont get off you feet, I will know in my heart that you like to be mistreated. He says I'm not a failure, that not everyone needs to go to college, yet again his arguments validating psychotropic consumption are always that he makes a lot of money with the job he got from graduating college. As if he needed the excuse of society's idea of success. I can be poor and still try to find connections lost inside my head through psychotropics, I can be poor and unsuccesfull and unemployed artist and still try to find meaning in life, or the experience of the nothing through cannabis. Do I need a fucking list of mental illnesses to be taken seriously about my problems, why do I need to defend myself against the person that supposedly cares for me the most?

Dots and Dashes always brake my heart. It's been 7 years since the first time I heard it, and 3 years since that girl broke my heart.

Tapping into that Jules vibe

Via: @another__kind on IG

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Yesterday I felt closer to my grandma (on my father’s side) than ever before. She died when I was 13, and only now in my 20s I can see that there was so much she didn’t teach me, like how to sew, or how to mend pants, how to make dresses, how to use her sewing machine...I think despite the fights in her last days she would have been proud of me, that I became a person interested in the forgotten crafts that are going to save the world from consumerism...it’s strange, she only made her own clothes cause she grew in a very poor household, the lowest of the low, and now, little by little, young people are starting to see how corrupt the world of fashion and clothes are, and are starting to source their own fabrics, and sew their own clothes, or they thrift and modify to their liking. Yesterday I was just buying so cotton cloth so I could make a lining for a jean jacket, and the feeling that I missed her so much washed over me. Sometimes I dream about her and she’s smiling. She was the one who raise me and when she died, there was so much it was left untold.

Been feeling under the water lately, I felt like I accomplished so much in the last few months of 2019, but now is the last day of February and I just feel stagnant. I know that life is all about cycles but it creeps me out running out of money for food, only have 60 dollars left on my paypal, and I found myself occupying my mind with a million other things instead of drawing (which is the only thing I think Im good at). I keep relying on hoping and positive affirmations but you know, it is always necessary that you put words into action. Even making this dream maps make me feel full of shame, like I’m wasting my time, even tho they make me feel better, they make me realize the things I thought I wanted, and the ones I still want and dream about...so far they were filled with material things, so now I included some words, which is what I feel I’m lacking at the moment, or fearing. Fearing of failure can freeze you up. It’s not like I’m not doing anything, it’s not like I’m just lying around in my room looking at the ceiling, I read, make color palettes from my favorite movies for my teepublic, I sew and mend my clothes, I take self portraits, I write on my journal to hopefully write a memoir one day, I view myself as an artist and yet, I get paralyzed when I try to pick up drawing again, should I call myself an artist If I’m not making anything? I mean, I dream, I write, but is that enough? There are so many projects written on my journal that I can’t seem to wrap my head around. I miss having friends, although I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend who’s in the same boat as me, artistically speaking, ethically speaking, spiritually speaking. All of the people closest to me had left the country, of course I have my loving boyfriend, but its not the same. He has many really good friends, and now some are my friends too, but not really. It makes me sad watching my bf code, and have a life, and be a professional graduated from collage, whilst I’m just a college drop out (even If I know I had to drop out to work, cause I didn’t even have money to take the bus to college, my parents slowly stop supporting me after I decided to drop out of engineering cause it was killing me...the art school killed me even more, why Do I always feel I have to defend myself? To my family? To acquaintances? To strangers on the internet...I sure wish my parents would had supported me when I finished high school...but it was easier for them to just say “we don’t the money” and put me in a public college...I will always feel sad about that ). It makes me sad the I am the drop out from art school girlfriend that doesn’t have a degree. At least I can speak English. I can write these and feel a little bit better. I wish my parents would had made the effort to put me into some graphic school, or illustration institution, even when I arranged my paperwork behind my parents back to enter into a public art school, it was again one of the most depressing times of my life, even more depressive cause when I meant to enter my specialty (painting) I didn’t have the money to buy supplies, or to buy lunch. Even when I started teaching children English for 1/4 of a minimum wage I could buy shit. It hurts me that my parents never accepted that when I drop of engineering, they slowly turn their backs, financially. There was never money, there was enough money. And the thing is, I’ve seen some parents go far and beyond hustling to support their children, and their dreams, and to this day I can’t understand why mine turn their backs...why didn’t they hustle? Why didn’t they find a way? Because you know deep inside you, stranger or whoever is reading this, that there is ALWAYS some way. Too much for tonight...I leave you with this dream map of yellow shoes that I’ve been dreaming about, I guess when I want to feel happy and strong I think of yellow. I think of Chihiro. Please if you’re reading this, think of a color that makes you feel warm, safe and strong, maybe consume fruits of that color. The nike ones are in this shop, next to a joint of burgers my boyfriend takes me time to time, they are yellow like a pencil number 2. I like to think of them. Goodnight.

A castle in the dessert is a representation of your future, a monument in the distance.

I feel like I’m going to brake, like I’m going to explode into a million tears of sadness, the building cat just gave birth, for the third time this year, almost all of her babies had died. I don´t have the money to fix her or any of her already adult female babies (2), the children kill the kittens with stones, I´m scared, I feel so sad, she just gave birth today, she’s going to die...somebody put a cardboard box in the entrance of the building like a little house...that’s not enough, in two months she will be pregnant again, I feel myself going crazy, all the traumatic events of my past living in the slums come to hunt me. I feel so desperate, nobody care about the animals here...I feel like crying, I need help, I feel like the pain is just too much, the sadness is just too much, living in this world is just too much sometimes. Sensory overload. Too much pain. Too much grief. I was born watching animals die and being mistreated around me (mistreated is a soft word), I´m never able to help, and feel sometimes brakes inside me every time. And everyday is hard to get up, its harder to move on...all the pain around me...all the suffering, I just can´t take it...it hurts so bad. I want to wake up from this nightmare.