My natural desire is to want to decide everything in a logical, orderly manner. However, because I am an emotionally-driven person, this is incredibly hard for me sometimes, mostly the times in which my emotions are the heart of a matter, or at least the muscle. Recently, I’ve had a few matters of emotion wandering through my mind, all of which I try to dissect and figure out logically, and I also try to figure out what to do with them, logically as well. This has been driving me insane, because in many circumstances, emotions defy logic, and when a matter is mostly emotional, it is near impossible to figure out what to do with it. At least, this is what I feel like (haha….punny!). Maybe it’s only because my emotions can be incredibly extreme, deep rooted, and complex. Maybe it’s only because the main situation I’ve been pondering about is incredibly complex itself, and the other person involved is in a complex, precarious position with and compared to my own position in our circumstance. Maybe I’m overthinking it, and should just do what I feel is right and what I feel like I want to do.

But then I immediately turn around and question that.

Emotions seem to be just as logical as a God, as a Creator, as that particular force that moves things in the world and connects everything to everything else. They are just there, there for us to experience and describe. They are there as motivators, as a screen between ourselves and the world, and as a guide to our soul and heart. They are there to lead us to where we are suppose to be, and to lead us to where we will be happiest or unhappiest, depending on what emotions you decide to feed.

And I know all of this…but it it doesn’t make certain decisions any easier.

Emotions act freely of morals and rules, unless, for you personally, emotions are borne from these things, like the Id, Ego and Superego are fighting (as always). But in the end, at least for me, my emotions usually get the best of me. Whether it’s after I’ve done the “moral” thing, or before, they always end up taking a hold of me and reminding me how much they rule me. And oftentimes, I kick myself for it.

Learning to do what’s best for me and “ride” those waves of emotion is difficult, but I know I’m slowly getting better at it. Letting myself just feel whatever I need to and then decide what to do has proven the best method for me personally. I know this is definitely not the best for everyone though…but maybe I’ll figure out what to do with the one circumstance that has riddled my brain as it has recently, eventually. Some of these emotions need outlets, after all.






She looked at the burning tobacco in the paper held between her index and middle finger. Beyond the concentrated orange glow she saw the outlines of wet, broken blacktop, reflecting the various light sources nearby. The newly budded leaves sprouting from the fallen branches shook in the unusually cold wind. Definitely no bugs tonight, she thought, then took another deep drag on the robust, dried tobacco, tasting the saucy breeze of grass amongst the leaves. She looked at the spacious, wanna-be highway down the steep hill, watching a few cars drive by, counting a fraction of the amount that passed during the day, and braced as she heard another distant roar of wind approach, feeling it sweep across her less than 10 seconds later. Wind was always making noise, always whispering and talking, especially to anyone that listened. This was different than the earth, that only grumbled if it had too, and would otherwise remain silent, at least to a mere human’s ears. The same for the water, but the water would never let you forget it was there, always trying to lull you into her depths and let her sing to you. And the fire, the fire would cackle gleefully, in absolute delight to be in existence, feeding off of the given energy, and hissing at those that tried to put it out, angrily reminding them that it would be back eventually.

Arya knew all of these aspects well; she had spent many of her nights and days outside, enjoying the company of these acquaintances, these friends that people distance themselves from and expect to still be friendly. Her people had exiled her long ago, much like they had done to the elements, and she had since learned to take comfort in the non-human. They understood her because of who she was as a form, not who she was as an individual. And she preferred it that way.

She took one last drag on the cigarette, watching the trees spin slightly around her as her body took in the large dose of nicotine and drug. Then she spit on the ground, as custom said, and put It out in the small mound of shifting saliva. That’s probably not very feminine, she vaguely thought. Then again, she wasn’t very feminine, for a girl; after all, she was raised by men, men of a society of only males. To this day, she was still trying to find out why.


Carlev ran as fast as he could down the cobblestone street, chucking the newspapers against the many damaged and a few broken doors with practiced accuracy, all the while having a minor panic attack. Just get it done, you’ve got this, he encouraged himself. He was late, very late, for his regular newspaper delivery routine. Thankfully, the guy who ran the delivering business was never actually up during these particular hours of business, so if Carlev hurried, he could finish before the old guy woke. He kept running as fast as he could, projecting the paper missiles straight to the doors of the slums he carried out his job in. he ran through the alleyway, knowing this to be the best shortcut in town, so the only one he would be willing to take. Then he saw a curious shape at the end of it against the wall. It was someone, but they seemed to not caret that he was running full tilt. Then he got closer…was that, a girl?


Arya ran, doing her best not to trip, doing her best to keep sprinting, doing her best to keep track of him behind her. She shouldn’t have done this, this was an awful idea! Why did she decide to do it now, like this? There had to have been an easier way, or she just shouldn’t have done it. Not yet, not tonight, she would have been okay for another night, and maybe he would have been in a better mood… maybe, whatever, it doesn’t fucking matter now. You’ve royally screwed up this time, Arya. You’re an idiot! A goddamned idiot! Fuck-! She felt her left foot loose grip, and slid into the damp, brick wall, slamming her shoulder and head into the cement below. Seeing stars and hearing not much else other than ringing silence, she clumsily twisted over in the mud and gravel, preparing herself to keep running, when she saw a combat boot slam down in front of her, and felt a gloved hand slam against the back of her head and neck. Feeling the jagged rocks and grimy wetness too well on her cheek and ear, she knew in her heart she had been defeated, but her spirit refused to believe otherwise.

“What do you think you’re doing, you filthy little swine?! Eh? Think you’re going to get away from me? Nope, not today, bitch. Not today, at all!” and with that, Vic lifted and slammed her head into the ground, hard, but not the hardest he could do, she knew. Arya stayed silent, except for the clacking of her teeth against one another from the impact. She was not broken; there was no need to make noise and beg. Not yet.

“You, do NOT get to leave! You have cursed our family, and will therefore serve your sentence here, with our guardian, doing what you are told, and ONLY what you are told! Do you hear me, bitch? Do ya? You are NOTHING, nothing compared to what I am! Right? Right?! Arya, you better fucking answer, cunt!” Vic shook her head and body with this, chaffing her face and exposed skin against the ground, bringing a want of tears to her eyes.

“Answer me, goddamnit! Don’t make me get meaner with you! That’s what you want, isn’t it?! You want me to loose my temper!” He was starting to shake at this point.

“No, I just wanted to tell you that, to tell you how I-“ Arya protested, but didn’t really have the air to continue once he wrapped his hand around her neck, shoving his thumb into her windpipe. Why did he have to know what she was doing?

“You did not want that, you wanted to upset me and our guardian! Thankfully I’ve stopped you from telling the guardian, so you’d better be fucking grateful I’m doing this to you!” Vic said, not afraid to lay the guilt on heavy and subduing her. He knew her too well. But Arya was not going to give in this time. She was so close…so close indeed.

“This talk of ‘women’ in other p    

Lighted Compassion and Colors: Venus’ Seed (“Love, Emotions, and A Story of Self Acceptance”)

Apprehensive to see,

Me companionate beauty;

“Death to The Rock”,

Me, Undying the Fear!


Simple, pure, knowing;

Onto dark slate shining,

Bringing green blooming,

Smoothing silken zing!


Orange and silver!

Electric purple shiver!

Brazen rainbow river:

…Me, most natural than ever.



Late night ramblings…

Do you know why obesity is in the rise?

Because we consume too much.

We consume everything around us, everything in sight: friends, stories, lives of friends, lives of celebrities, mindless repetitive music, monotony. Sugar. Addiction. A drug, a sickness that inhibits who we really are. Who we can be. The power that that gives us; the power that enables us to see it’s a game, and realize we are just a player.

And we believe it. Those that overeat, that just take what’s given to them without question, those are the ones that can’t see past the lie. They’re in denial about the world, and themselves.

Those that exercise religiously and count calories all the time, are also in denial about themselves and the world. They live the lie, too. They see those that consume too much aren’t happy, and strive to not be one of them, but this unknowingly traps them too. They still accept they are a part of a the game, an ideal that isn’t a reality. Denial.

I think that the sign of humanity and essence is imperfection.

Often times more than not, those that are “your favorite people” are those that have quirks, that are a little weird that walk their own step. Those are the ones worth talking to. They accept who they are, and just let that flourish instead of trying to control it and make it fit in some stupid mold. And these people usually understand that the world isn’t the game we’re told it is, and exist within and with the world with that attitude of acceptance and natural awe towards the beauty that is around us and is us. Just let it be, and just let yourself be. If you have a few extra mountains and valleys, that’s okay. You are just the way you should be; don’t think about it, just be it. And then you will be truly beautiful.

Just like Mother Nature and her daughter Earth is.



“What do you like to do?”

“What do you like to do?”


Being asked this was painful. I think that’d be the best way to put it. I was dumbfounded, 1) because my normal rattling of “reading, listening to music, drawing, etc.” didn’t roll of my tongue (and it didn’t seem to want to), and 2) I really had no idea. 


That was it: I had no flippin’ clue. 


He was asking as a general question that one asks on an introductory meal, but I processed it completely differently than that. For one, he had been talking about things he loves to do and things he does, and things he has done, and I realized how incredibly bland my life was. I also realized I don’t do anything. At all. I go to class, I work on homework, I doodle and read at times and always listen to music, I work, I eat, I exercise, I sleep. That’s pretty much my life. Except for the constant brain activity and attempt at understanding the chaos around me, I’m not doing anything here. Essentially, I have no passion. I have nothing to follow, nothing to let lead me on to the greatest depths of the unknown. Nothing. Zilch. And I know that that passion is what he was asking about, whether he meant to inquire about it or not. It made me feel like a child, honestly, but not in a bad way. It just made me realize that I still have a long ways to go. 

I found myself incredibly embarrassed. I know first impressions last a lifetime (and it’s true, whether you want to believe it or not), and I feel like I completely flunked this one. But, more importantly, I was very disappointed in myself. I like to think I’m experienced and know where I’m going, and know who I am, but honestly, I know nothing. I’m not even legal to drink yet, and I’m still in college. This guy in front of me is doing and has already done more than me, and he’s not talking about what he knows and how the world is: he’s talking about how beautiful the world is, and how there’s so much to experience and see, and what he’s doing to get there and see those things.

This is probably the most humbling experience I’ve had in a while.  

We all need these, but I probably need them the most because I do tend to preach. Being reminded of how small I am is good for me, I think. It’s also a loud reminder that I need to do something productive with myself, and to actually live. People exist, but very few live.

(Isn’t that true?) 


I need to be one of those. I desperately want to be. 


I need to get up, and shake the dirt and dust from my achy, cold body. I need to crack the curtains and open the windows, and see what’s around me. I need to dig out my hiking boots and throw on my coat, grab my camera, and go embrace the world that’s around me, and stop for nothing, and never come back until I have seen everything. Then, and only then, can I rest again in my worn out, practical home. Then, I can preach and tell stories to those that join me at my hearth. And only then.


Stay humble.



(^^there I go preaching again…) 



Universal Language

Into the ocean, end it all.

This is how you remind me of what I really am.

A thousand lives have made me colder, and I don’t think I can look at this the same.

I can’t tell you what it really is, I can only tell you what it feels like,

Time is a valuable thing, 

Suppressed by all my childish dreams.

I’ve lost a friend,

(“We’ll do it all, everything,” (on our own))

And you can’t fight the tears that aren’t coming,

It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right,

(“I don’t believe that anybody feels the way that I feel about you now,”)

I hope it’s gonna make you notice,

They say bad things happen for a reason,

I may have failed, but I have loved you from the start, but hold your breath,

It’s all part of a grander plan that is comin’ true,

Since I’ve gone and fucked things up, just like I always do,

And I just wanted to say, I’m sorry.

I didn’t mean to treat you so bad, but I did it anyway.

Dream a dream that she never dies,

She acts like summer, and walks like rain, 

Even the best fall down sometimes,

“I’m just dreamin’ counting the ways to where you are,

Say you will,”

And she will be loved.

She will be loved. 







“We touch, I feel a rush,

We clutch, it isn’t much,

But it makes me wonder what’s in store for us,

It’s lust, it’s tortuous…”


I just can’t let you go,

Every day there’s more,

More I feel, more I see,

More it hurts to breathe,

‘Cause my heart beats,

With a pain,it’s never weak,

Why can’t I find what I seek?

You never gave it to me,

Never saw what I needed,

Forgot I existed, and used me

To make you big, pushed me over,

Pushed, then broke the button,


“It’s like an explosion, every time I hold ya,

Wasn’t jokin’ when I told ya,

You take my breath away,

You’re like a supernova, 

And I’m…”



I gave you my all, 

My loyalty, my life, my fall,

My love, my heart, everything,

Through punishment and sting,

Payback and deserved hurt,

I was there, always, your spring,


“…I’ll blow my brains in your lap,

Lay here and die in your arms,

Drop to my knees, and I’m bleeding…

Before I put that gun to my temple, I’ll tell you this,

I would’ve done anything for you, 

To show you how much I adored you,

But it’s over now,

It’s too late to save our love,

Just promise me you’ll think of me every time you look up to the sky and see a star…”





(Quoted lines from Eminem’s “Space Bound”; all rights to him and the associated parties. I DO NOT CLAIM ANY OF THOSE VERSES AS MY OWN.)