mixtapes & fighting fate.: get reckless. get going. wake up and realize.

i don't what this feeling is that keeps beating in my chest. this voice growing louder and louder within me. but its starting to shake the walls. its starting to scream. and i'm starting to believe it all.

its funny, i find myself at the strangest times. i realize things when its just after climax of anger or depression or frustration. and perhaps this is better, waiting for the terrible feeling to subside. knowing this too shall pass. knowing i can make it through. once next saturday is over i will be able to say i have survived. survived october. because october is always hard for me to come by. 2 years ago i hit rock bottom, literally. i was more than a mess. i was chaos. my body stained with red lines. horizontal. vertical. diagonal. the word "numb" carefully carved into my left arm. everything was suppose to hurt. i was suppose to feel. but i couldn't feel a thing. i was nothing. my mentality wasn't the open-mindedness and freedom it is today. it was a hurricane of thoughts. all i wanted was to be non-existent. to stop breathing. to feel the air expire. to have my heart stop beating. get asphyxiated. dead.

i was hospitalized for a couple of days because my parents and psychiatrist thought i was going to commit suicide in the next few days. to be honest, i remember planning my death. i think it was the wednesday i was put in the hospital and that friday i remember i was going to slit my wrists as hard and deep as i could and hope that i hit an artery or something and bleed to death. i remember not wanting to be alive.

And here I am 2 years later. Alive. Flawed. But happy. Finally. If anything, everyone will have a time in their life where they hit rock bottom. And it is your wake up call. I know what it's like to feel encompassed by darkness. Like everything is so helpless. hopeless. And you can't seem to comprehend how everyone keeps moving forward when you're living in slow motion, watching people pass by and living and you don't know how to get there. To be happy. You want it but it feels so far. I know that feeling. The mentality of liking being fucked up. because it gives you an excuse somehow that you're "different" that you've been broken, that you're damaged and no one can comprehend you because your problems are too complex for any human being to understand. I know the feeling all too well. How somehow in that moment where you're so overwhelmed you feel stuck. Unable to move. You don't know how to move forward. And everything spells disaster. But I know that pain is universal. And this era of darkness will pass. It'll take time. It is a process. You won't just wake up the next morning feeling better. I have had too many consecutive nights and days feeling numb and helpless. I don't know what it is but all I can say is you have to fight for yourself. Know that people love you. Because even though you aren't able to see the pain you're causing to them the people that matter will love you no matter what, even with all your imperfections, all the shit you put them through. But fight for them. Fight for the things you call important. Fight for your dreams. music. art. tomorrow. Because I promise you you will find a brighter day. And when it comes, know that you are alive.

the past few weeks have been nostalgic but a learning process. every day i learn something new. i always look forward to tomorrow...well most days. every day is a revolution. i'm starting to really believe in things. in people. in myself. in the music. in all the tiny details. in fairy tales. in things people think are absurd. in spontaneity. in art. in adventures. in all the cracks that form. in acceptance. in my voice. oh, and i'm up to 4 tattoos now. i got "believe" tattooed on my left wrist with a sparrow underneath about 2 weeks ago. it hurt like a bitch but i have to say with my strange pain tolerance only certain parts hurt compared to others.

"believe your voice can mean something."

so friday night i went to a halloween party. i felt kind of old considering it was mostly gr 11s & 12s. but its all good 'cause everyone was tanked as fuck and thank fucking god i was drunk. things got pretty rowdy. damn teenage grinding and overly hormonal fifteen year olds. too many alcoholic beverages and sloppy make out sessions. halloween costumes and chain smoking like a no good motherfucker. drugs and loud music. god knows, i at least was way classier at fifteen. not to mention innocent. i can't believe how juvenile some people are. nonetheless, i was pretty damn good. restricting myself, no kissing any boys because my heart belongs to some dumb boy that lives in pomo and doesn't even know he's pulling at my heart strings.

"you know how to do recklessness with class." as Alex says. damn straight i do.

i'm just a hot mess.