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A handful of processed cookies in... skipped breakfast for fatty home cooking. I weigh 165 pounds and I am 5'5", but that does not define me. I tried to follow a video on yoga for beginners, and it was a strange experience so I moved on to sweaty workouts. Tomorrow is a new day. I am excited for my new journey. I am 21, I am healthy enough and full of life. I am beginning to awaken.

    Help me, help you, help me, fix me.

These types of stories, they always end in tragedy.  We try our best, to fulfill our vision, and we remain ruthless until the last sparing moment.  Nevertheless, this is a story that is worth knowing, because this is the story of figuring out ones self, soul searching you can say.  Never ending, always painful, regretfully vengeful, soul searching.  What type of soul searching ends in tragedy?  The type that longs for something more.  Never satisfied, never finished, always searching.  Actions are taken at any expense, contradicting characteristics soaring left and right.  This person, she knows what kind of sick creature she really is, she wants to fulfill it to the fullest possible extent.  Always, always making mistakes, always, always, faking heart breaks.  Hearts do not really break, they just get tossed around.  One cannot feel remorse if one is best friends with their conscience. ..

However, I still feel like an explosion ready to burst.

That's always a hard question to answer, especially for insecure people like myself.  When there is no audience, however, I can be myself.  Therefore, what I like the most about myself is my secret self.

I am never going to be this young again.  I am never going to feel this strange again.  I am never going to experience this here precious moment of life, ever, ever again.  Life is the journey to death.

-Anonymous. 

You think you know. You think everything is what I show. You have me figured out? You know the answer without a doubt? You don't know anything. There's no point in arguing. You know your own specific life, And you stab at mine like an annoying knife. What gives you the right? You know about me but a slight. Take your opinions and insults elsewhere. Leave, I won't even remember you were once there. Don't care to go? That's fine. I can go myself the choice is mine. Bye bye nice guy, You already know the reasons why.

(Written Spring 2013) It’s over, it has been. You’re part of my past then. I hate that you’re involved with my friends. It’s like I’ll never get to hear the end. Thanks for proving everything right. all that shit that would always make me cry and fight. What was the whole fucking point? nothing that can’t be fixed with a bowl or a joint. That’s your solution to everything. Hit when you cry, hit when you sing, hit when you pick up the phone to give me a ring. You never even listened though, just a wall so blank and slow. the fuck was I thinking? fun loving and sinking. Into a world that wasn’t for me, becoming someone I never wanted to be. What’s sex if that’s all you know? What’s love? Besides just a show. I don’t believe in you, I don’t even believe in myself. I don’t believe in hope or maintaining good wealth. What’s health if it isn’t with you? What’s red if it makes me feel blue? You took my heart and showed me it was still in pieces, you sucked the life out of me like a thousand leeches. Now here I am, cold as ice. It took not once, not twice, but thrice. I know I’m not meant for things like this, I know this is something I’d rather miss. So what if I’m alone and nobody cares? A fool is the one who tries and dares. I gave you my heart, I gave it all. I don’t know why you let me fall. You said I was special, you said you were true. You didn’t see things the way I do. how could we be together if we didn’t know forever? What you saw as one, I saw as five, agreeing never. Yet you forced us to try, said We’d get it right. You forced us no matter how sad I’d cry or fight. I gave up everything, I’d give up anything. To see that smile forever, to know something. Something as true as what I thought we had. Something more real than my mom and dad. Now I know, more than ever, that stuff doesn’t exist. It’s short lived like a thick fog or fresh mist. On a lonely night that’s cold and blue, this is something I wouldn’t have missed. But other than that, I’ll always remember the first time we kissed. For that moment in time, against that brick wall, I seriously and honestly thought that I’d have it all. Now I’m just a mean, rather cold hearted bitch, my heart skips no beats, not even a twitch. Love, love is just an idea created by man kind, it wasn’t made for me but it sure seems divine. If ever again our hearts do intertwine, you’ll be mine, forever mine, I say that though because I know it can’t be true, it’s a fictional tale, and it’s called Me and You.

Uh uh dancing in the breeze, The same one that makes me want to sneeze, When it carries pollen near my nose, From smelling the bright rose, This morning on my way to church, I saw a little bird chilling on a perch. I said what it do baby boo and he said no my name is blue. And I was like yeah the bird of happiness, no the bird of crappymess he said. I'm here to make the roses red. I be like bitch that's the bee's Neez And he said its my business now. And I said carry on, I don't care how as long as you don't take my little cow. Anyway, I love how you sway almost every single day. I like when you're planted in an array. How I wish you could move and talk, I bet you would walk a lot. And step all over the people, walk right through weddings and gazebos. And id be like yeah that's right. Two wrongs don't make a right , you can be wrong and still wear white. Hell be a bad groom but the flowers will still bloom on Sunday mornings in August. Hell leave you like you guessed. And the palm tree will still be swaying, as you are laying, lonely and alone, with no dog to throw you a bone, what's the point of a phone if nobody wants to call you, no one except little blue. That's cuz love is for the birds, In case you hadn't heard. You're gonna die alone, and the throne is over thrown !

(Written some time in Fall 2012) I don't know what is wrong with me, But I still try to be the best I can be. In a man's world... I'm just a man's girl. In my world, everything that hurts gets repressed, I please myself within, but appear depressed. It's not me though, it's you. Society, f_cking telling me what I should want to do. Born with a little religion and a lot of insane, When I act in my best interest I don't feel any pain. What hurts me, because pain does not, Is the shame of being myself... A lot. I'm always at war with my subconscious self, But when I sit and think..that was created by somebody else. All these morals and rules, Have just been inventions and advocations of some powerful fools. I was not in mind when people decided the acceptable, Therefore when I act on my own, the actions are labeled regrettable. So if I sit and cry about how wrong I am, Then I cry about not living up to the standards of a man. It's clear to me, I should develop my own point of view, Seeing myself through a man's eyes is a bit askew. If I don't want to love then that should be okay. But no, I always decide in your interest anyway. I feel I have found what makes me sad, It is thinking I must be a certain way, even if I think it mad. I resolute to love who I am as much as I can, Because even though it's engrained in my thought, Life doesn't have to be about pleasing man, I can be who I am, and I can be that a lot.

This is where I start. My catharsis. I can and will do this and write this as opposed to sleeping early because I have work tomorrow or doing homework which is a more productive choice. This is just me...and it's only the beginning. Ps. It only makes sense to me. Love, Yadira