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My best friend came over, hours before it struck midnight. It was a cold night and we thought, "Why not walk around the neighborhood? It's perfect for a weather like this."
We walked around the neighborhood as I inhaled the cherry flavored vapor as the end of my e-cigarette lights up a blue hue, enjoying the cold, foggy night as fireworks goes off; reliving memories, talking about our favorite shows from childhood to talking about the stupid things we did back in high school, to daydreaming about our future. It was all great until I got home.
When I came home, the first thing my nephew says to me was, "Our uncle died."
"What? You're lying."
"No I am not. Go check on Grandma."
Tears were streaming down her eyes as she called every single relative to tell them the news. "He died in the hospital!" She would choke in between sobs as I held her close. It wasn't yet hitting me. I was puzzled.
It didn't hit me until my best friend had to leave an hour before midnight. Boy, did I ever felt down in the dumps.
I groaned in my sleep, squeezing my eyes tightly as the sunlight crept through the cracks of the blinds. I turned over onto my left side and tugged the covers over my face. I stretched my arm out to snuggle close to my girlfriend, but only to find a vacant spot. I fluttered my eyes open and sat up, puzzled as to where she went. I heard a loud sizzle from the kitchen that accompanied by a sweet aroma. I sluggishly slide off the bed and yawned. 10:57 AM. Odd. She usually does not wake up before I do.
I limped over to the kitchen, leaning against the wall a bit until I could walk normally and poked my head from the corner. And there she was.
She's wearing her lavender, silky nightgown covering her voluptuous body along with a dark blue sleep cap over her braids from the night before. I have always loved her afro, but she always braids it because "it's too much of a hassle to tame."
It took her a while to notice I was there, but I didn't mind. She gave me a toothy grin, "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."
I let out a heavy sigh and stared at the TV. Nothing showed but the static and besides its noise, all I heard was the heavy bass coming from two blocks down. He's there. He's at the party and I'm over here alone in my room, sitting in the dark. I am miserable, afraid that it's all over. I took another swig of the bitter tasting tea that became cold from sitting untouched for almost an hour.
"I live in a constant state of fear and misery, do you miss me anymore?"
Does HE miss me?
Thunder cracked from the sky. I was lying down as I listened to the soft piano, rain splattering against the window as I'm trying to call him. It's been a while since we've last spoken. I can't even remember the last time we saw each other. It's been so long.
"I miss you."
"I miss you, too."
"When can I see you again?"
There's a pause.
"I don't know."
I whimpered. "Let me see you. I never see you anymore."
Do you ever heard or read something so stupid, you felt your chest hurt? Or your head pounding?
Does it ever make you wonder how people so painfully ignorant exists? Does it ever make you wanna lock yourself up in your home and never come out again? Or even shut off your computer or any other device you go on?
Sometimes it hurts me deeply to think about people that ignorant. Hurts me to the core. I always say that I do not care about many things, but ignorance? I have zero tolerance for it. None.
You dumb bitch. You are
contradicting yourself. Honestly, do ever hear yourself talk?
You say you're a feminist, but really, what good is your feminism? You don not see transwomen as women, but you believe that they need laws to protect them? You do not get brownie points for thinking they need protection. You are either for them or against them. Staying neutral is no help either. Stop beating around the bush. And what is with your hate towards bisexual women? Did they turn you down? Probably because they don't like stupid shits like you.
Even though I was never close to my uncle and our conversation usually went, "Hello, how are you?" it hurts. It hurts to know that he's gone. I can't believe it does. I used to see him every day because he had a close relationship with my mom.
He's been gone for a month and I didn't think I'd cry this much over a family member who I didn't have a close, nor a bad, relationship. I mean, it's great that I hugged him our cousin's wedding day, but I wish I could have said my last goodbye.
I sat on the train, staring out at the window, hugging myself tightly. The weather was cold and watching the light rain hit against the glass made me shiver. It wasn't making my mood any better either. It was gloomy from the fight that ended only 20 minutes ago. I didn't have a clue where I was going; all I knew that I wanted to be alone. I got off my stop and looked around. The rain was gone, but the chill made my lips quivered. The sky was darkening and the streets were illuminating. The city is my comfort.
"Guys are less dramatic."
Are you sure about that? Because my brother just yelled at everybody for asking him to buy us milk.
"I'm lactose intolerant! I don't drink that shit!" Okay? Good for you pal, but we're asking you to buy us milk not chug a whole gallon. It's not that deep. We asked because you mentioned you're going out and nobody goes out this late, but you. You're notorious for going out late almost every night and nobody bugs you about this nor do we ask you for anything. We only asked for milk.
Do you ever feel like you deserved to be punched, slapped, or even beaten up? For some reason, this feeling isn't new to me. I used to always feel like I deserved it until I started dating my girlfriend and learned to love myself a little as time passes by. I remembered when my friend had lipstick smudged on her cheek and when I tried to wipe it off, her boyfriend was upset and told me, "I should slap you." I was embarrassed. Having this flashback made me felt like I probably deserved that slap. Only it hurts this time.
I can not believe it. Where has time gone? They're so big now, my niece and nephew.
Born on the same day, four years apart. God, I... hardly remember what they were like as babies. I was only six when my nephew was born and ten when my niece was brought into this world. All I remembered was kissing their chubby cheeks when they were small and getting into fights with them as we grew older. My nephew being pesky, and my niece being a spoiled brat with no sense of humor. At least we get along now.
How are you going to cut off our friendship and others like that?
You said you don't wanna be friends with people who are "problematic," "petty," or "rude," and yet here you are being friends with a person who made an unoriginal joke about Black History Month by saying the n-word with a hard R. You can't tell people to stop bullying you when you turned around and called a girl a slut and told her to kill herself.
You used to play around and call your friends "rats." Talk about hypocrisy at its finest.
She's so good to me.
She's forgiving. She's patient. She's understanding. Sometimes, I wonder if I even deserve her. What she sees in me. I'm afraid I might fuck this up. I know I can a bit manipulative at times, but I'm changing that. I lost some good friends just from trying to get them to do shitty videos with me. Sometimes I don't even know how to show I care or love her. What if she thinks I don't have feelings for her? I don't want to be sappy, but how do I show that I care?
Another exhausting day and I haven't gotten out of bed yet. I need to use the bathroom and I can't get up for that. I have no energy in me or care. I have to watch what I do or else I get stressed out. I'll get a seizure. I can let it kill me and it'll all be over and yet I don't want to die. Why am I doing this? Then she came through the door and puts her hand on my forehead, asking if I was alright. Oh yeah. But how do I tell her about this?
You know what I realized? That there's a theme going on in my entries: it's vague and doleful. It may sound like I'm going through a tough time this month, but in reality, I'm not. I'm okay, honestly. The entries about my family, calling out on a few people, friends and strangers; the feeling of deserving to be hit came from the heart. The rest are pure fiction, stuff that I wrote while listening to music as an inspiration. Well, except the entries from January third and fourth. I was famished and imagined having my own place with my girlfriend.
I took a sip of my cold beer as I laid back on the couch, almost sinking in the leather as the smoke from cigarettes fogged up my vision. For a non-smoker, it was somewhat nice inhaling the toxic fumes. It had a.. sweet smell, I guess. Reminded me of when I would sit on the back porch with my brothers, hearing their old stories of what they did when they were in their 20's. The colors dancing around in the fog reminded me of the parties my family would throw for New Years, with a mini disco ball.
I stared at my screen, the white light shining brightly on my face. It's a quarter past midnight and I'm rereading the texts that I received from him. Does he genuinely mean any of the things he says? I mean, we've known each other forever, but we hardly speak to each other face-to-face. He tends to look away and I never have anything interesting to say, and at times, stutter. Why is it so easy to communicate behind a screen? I'll never understand, much like our relationship.
Fuck it, let this romance go to waste.
Ever since I was ten-years-old, I have always wanted to camp. I am not so sure why, but it seems fun to spend time to close ones out in the woods. It took ten years to make it happen, but I'm glad. It wasn't something I'd imagine, but it was fun nonetheless. My family and I were camping at a farm with few other people. It belonged to a woman and her brother, who happened to knew my uncle when she worked at a small restaurant; one of which he stopped by often. Small world we live in.
For me, there wasn't much to do except to stick my face to my phone and finish reading
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
(to add on from yesterday's entry; it was accidentally submitted)
I didn't really do much because of the heat and I don't really know how to socialize. Other than greeting strangers, the first time I socialized was after smores time. My oldest brother and I even started to bond around the fire and alcohol. We even took a selfie, something I didn't even think was possible. Later on, I started to bond with three other people from playing rounds of Uno and Dominos. By nighttime, a fog settled in. It looked like something out of a horror movie.
I woke up with a sore back and legs. The roosters kept my mother up with their boisterous cock-a-doodle-doos, but they were the least of my problems.
The grass was dewy and my new shoes were dirty from walking around the farm with my new friend. At least the air was warm.
After eating a decent breakfast, there was a loud braying. As the kids and a few grownups came close to the fence, so did the donkey. A lady fed her grass, but by the time someone brought out carrots, she left.
I slammed my fist against the wall, the noise rattling throughout the shed. I heaved as if I ran a mile or two without rest. The argument, the yelling, pounding and kicking against the walls replayed in my head. One little thing he said and it set me off. Why am I destructive? Poor old man. He didn't know what to do with me, but he always tried his best. I guess this is the final straw. I was on my knees, forehead pressed against the wall. I heard the gun clocked and pressed against the back of my head.
I remembered the night we went out, my friends and I. We went to a local club and danced around, feeling the bass vibrate through our bodies, the building spinning around with colors.
And then we drove to an ice cream parlor, sharing our stories and laughing over double-fudge ice cream. We walked by a lonesome beach, digging our toes in the soft sand as we hear the waves clashing onto one another. I remembered we snapped a few photos, making stupid faces and poses, then one where we were smiling from ear-to-ear. I missed you guys.
I wish I knew what I want to do.
People grow up and seem to know what they want to be and where they want to be. Me? Not a clue. My interests changed throughout the years. I mean, I like to bake, but the thought of being a psychologist also sounds appealing to me; Writing is fun, but I am not sure if I want to be an author or even be a voice actor. There are various options I can choose, but I'm not too sure what to pick.
I guess I can always work at a bakery.
My childhood was a blur, but one of the things I remembered most was wishing to be a boy. No, not because I wanted to pee while standing up (although that was
of the reasons), but because I didn't feel like a girl. I felt like I didn't belong in my own body, but that feeling fluctuates over the years. From 4th or 5th grade up to now, I don't really feel like anything. Here and there, I would sometimes feel like a guy or a girl, but mainly not one or the other. It's messy sometimes.
It is so strange how a negative event could change a person's relationship. My oldest brother and I never had a great bond. Always bitching to mom about how she used to treat them vs how she treats me. The only way we could get along was by ignoring each other. One night, he went out with his girlfriend and was jumped by six guys. At that time, did I care? No. Our relationship was that bad. For an empathetic person, I was very apathetic towards his health. Since then, his attitude has been better and so has our relationship.
Looking back at my high school years, I can't remember what I did besides the constant procrastination and my will to live dying out; much like my motivation in the last two years. I'm not sure how those two are reviving back after trying to commit suicide twice and strong desire to drop out, but it's there. What was it about high school that worn me out? Middle school was far much worse for me. Those were the times that I felt depressed and cried out for help, even though mom sort of ignored it. Such sad memories I have-
It's weird how I remembered that I used to have a good memory and remember most things from my childhood up until I was 13-years-old. From there on, most of my memory was wiped away, almost like a doodle board. I can't remember what I did as a kid except for the things that I used to watch such as the Powerpuff Girls, Johnny Bravo, Samurai Jack, and a few more. For some reason, that stands out to me the most. I even remember when we didn't have cable so the only cartoon I watched was The Simpsons.
About a week or two ago, my cousin called my mom for a family get-together or something like that. The "meeting" was yesterday, but I didn't understand why or the point of it although it was nice. And I mildly disliked it whenever my uncle was brought up into the conversation by one of my older cousins and ordered his favorite food which became my least favorite (for that night). Today, I found out why we had a small get-together. It's been a month since he passed away. I couldn't stop crying. Guess I'm still not over it.
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