The Song

Do you ever listen to a song that reminds you of someone

– Maybe a song they loved –

To feel close to them?

To get a glimpse of a memory, a moment you were happily together?

Do you ever listen to a song that reminds you of someone

– Maybe a song you enjoyed listening to together –

And break down in tears?

Because you know that the music they loved is the only thing you have left of them?

Do you ever listen to a song that reminds you of someone

– Maybe your song –

And feel your heart being ripped out of your chest?

Because every time you listen to it, you realise you’re one step closer to losing them forever?

Random Thoughts LXXXVI

I think one of the worst things that can be done to someone is not being believed. 

And even worse, not being believed by loved ones.

Sex isn't meant to be painful for women.

Sex isn't meant to be painful for women.
If something makes you feel uncomfortable or in pain, and the person you're having sex with doesn't care, that person is an asshole, and possibly a rapist.

Stop telling women that sex is supposed to be painful for them.
Stop telling women that they exist to fulfil men's desires and sexual appetite. 
Stop telling women to 'suck it up' and 'just do it.'

Women owe you nothing. They don't owe you pleasure, sex or anything else.

"But you seem fine"

One of the most hurtful and insulting things I had ever heard was when people didn't believe I wasn't feeling well "because I didn't show it."
To assume that one will allow themselves to be vulnerable and "seem weak" in front of you is not only inconsiderate, but also ignorant.
Us who have been suffering for long know exactly how to hide our pain. And to doubt that pain merely because you can't see it is egotistical to say the least.

Life Game

In the academic year of 2011-12 (3rd year of my bachelors) I wrote a song inspired by the work I had done for my Independent Project.

That project entailed me interviewing people about pain and their memories of pain, whilst filming them, and then creating an avant garde piece of music and film. 

Which I did, and it was great.

In the meantime though, this project inspired me to write another song. 'Life Game'

I don't often go back and re-read or refer to my lyrics, but the following lyrics are depressingly relevant to this moment of my life:

"Pain is loss, pain is rejection

Pain is when you can’t find affection

Pain is racism, pain is bullying

Pain is when your heart is bleeding

Pain is physical, pain is mental

Pain is you on a misery spiral

Pain is shame, pain is blame

Pain is you not being the same?

Real life investment

You invest on someone and you expect everything is going to go alright.
You expect things won't change.

But then, people change, and things change along with them.

And then, you're alone. Because your investment failed and was a waste of time.

And you're left with a broken heart and a void you'll never be able to fill.

Frustration

Why can't I have a fucking break of bullshit happening to me?
Seriously, even when I seclude myself and don't step outside the house for months, shit still happens to me continuously!
What am I supposed to do, live in a fucking cave without any type of communication?
But I'm sure that even then something bad would happen!

I don't know for how long I can remain sane if things don't change.

The first 11 days of the end of the world

A Creative Writing tutor said us, writers, shouldn't share too much on social media. We should limit our online presence, for fear of how what we write can affect our futures.

And even though I, too, recognise that as a blogger and youtuber, as an instagrammer and a person with relatively strong social media presence, I run the risk of revealing too much, I cannot help myself.

Because I have a natural urge to create art and share it with the world. Now, I may have also shared personal moments, but it was always was the greater good, so that others who may experience similar situations, do not feel alone.

Or I may have shared my views on politics, and the reality we live in.

But as an artist, as a creator, isn't that what I am supposed to do?
Artists are special -and magical- creatures, people who can create from scratch, in addition to being inspired by what happens around them.

And especially in times like these, when political instability and irrational governing threatens the very core of our humanity, it is my duty, as an artist -and a human- to create, to act, to speak up.

I am an emotional person. A person who can empathise. When others feel pain, I can feel their pain, I can understand their position.

So, to see that which has taken place in the past 11 days... I am devastated.

At first came shock. Then, denial. Then, acceptance. Now, depression.

At 28 years old, I have no hope for the future.
I strongly believe the world is so fucked up, that it cannot be fixed in one, two -or even five- generations.

It took a very long time for things to become the way they are now, and that cannot be undone so easily. If I wasn't weary of copyright, I would share a few poems I wrote these days, but oh well. Maybe in the future.

We live in financial slavery, in ill capitalism, in cultural imperialism, in environmental crisis, in severe inequality...

The world we live in is controlled by an elite. And that elite will do anything and everything to stay at the top of the pyramide.

Not sure we stand a chance against them, despite the fact that we are a majority.

And that is because there is another factor that plays a role in this: the ego.
Which can also cause stupidity and people to be stuck up in their ways and blinded.

Good luck to all of us my friends.

Good luck to the underprivileged, good luck to the ones belonging to marginalised social groups, good luck to the ones who aren't brainwashed zombies and suffer due to the knowledge...

And good luck to us surviving by the rule of the ignorants, who -very unfortunately, make decisions for the rest of us...

Random Thoughts XXXXV

It's really hard to know that this is the only life I'm going to live, but it's not going to be the one I want to live.

Wisdom Tooth Terror

Everything you wanted to know about my horrific dental experience!

(well, even if you didn't give a shit about it now you can watch my narration of it lol)

Confessions of a Rotten Heart (6)

I like that I smell badly. I haven't showered in days.
I like that I look like a mess. I didn't care what I was gonna wear or how I was gonna look like.
I like that my eyes are red from crying and my lips swollen from biting them.
I like that I look so miserable that if I saw me on the street I would pity me.
I like that I'm listening to darkwave while crying for him.
I like it that my pain is so obvious and apparent that it can't be ignored.

Random Thoughts XXVI

You wouldn't last in my brain for one second.

I'd much rather have to face a harsh truth than a sweet lie

Random Thoughts XXII

Brutal wake up call.  

But will you have the balls to pick up the phone?

Confessions of a Rotten Heart (4)

It’s just that I’ve always been the one to support;

the one being there or others.

So when it’s me being in the receiving end,

I just can’t accept that role.

You know, I’m trembling right now.

My vision is a bit blurry,

So I had to take my glasses off.

It’s harder than usual to breathe.

I’m listening to all the songs I shouldn’t listen to.

I’m diving into darkness;

the void, despair and agony.

I kinda missed it.

Why do people let the monster inside them feed off their misery?

It’s enticing. Such an intense feeling can be extremely alluring.

So instead of being empty, you’d rather suffer.

Depression is a way of expression.

I can't get over it

I can't get over it.

I don't think I will ever be able to let go... of these moments, of the memories, of those amazing years I spent in my university campus.

I said I would go again, but I have not managed to bring myself to visit. I told myself it was because I didn't have the time... But look at me, I got plenty of time. Between panicking for uni and procrastinating I could spend a Sunday evening there. But still, I don't know if I can.

I can feel tears dancing around my cheeks. I can feel my heart aching. Every time I go through the pictures of my years in my university halls a sweet melancholy numbs my body.

How am I supposed to move on? I can't forget. I don't want to forget.
I don't think anything in my life can top up these two last years of my ba studies, the university halls experience ...

I know life changes. I know people change. People move on. My mates moved on. I moved on. But did I?

I never -not even for a split second- stopped hoping things would turn back to the way they were back then. It's not possible anymore, I can see it. Nevertheless I'm still clinging onto that idea.

The utopia of my uni years.

I think that's the problem. I lived, I experienced utopia and now I can't be happy and content with anything less than that. I am having a good time, I am appreciative, yet there is always a little shadow lurking inside me reminding me of the dream, the life I lived as a ba student in London, the university halls...
That protected environment, that magical forest that ensured me and my mates would be back together every september, altogether in one building.

I need closure but I sure don't know how to get it.

*that picture is the most iconic picture of my university halls for me; it's the view from my window.

Confessions of a Rotten Heart (3)

I know you won't read this, and that makes this space a sacred diary.
Your ignorance towards my visual sanctuary gives me freedom to express myself in ways spoken words could never allow me to.

My everyday routine has been disrupted by my feelings.
I thought it was over; I thought I was 'ok'.
Well, I have been proven wrong.
I'm a mess. . .

I'm so unbearably in love with you that I even forget how to exist. . .
I know you don't feel the same.
I know you don't care about my feelings.
And I most certainly know that if you were aware of my feelings, two things could happen:
I. One is awkwardness; for our friendship to be ruined
II. The other is for you to exploit me; to use me to your benefit.

You have way too many personalities for me to keep up with; too many personalities for me to handle.
You have way too much darkness for me to fight.
You're like a black hole; destruction of my inner peace.

Just a fracture of today's thoughts . . . (II)

"Time is passing by

Looking through my window

Leafs are turning brown

I am now a widow

Lost my heart and soul

To this tough reality

Trying to write a song

Doom, despair, fatality"