mind matter @ midnight

one more week… how insane.

i’m in such a state of limbo,

i don’t know if i’m going to be longing to come back soon.

next year, this school won’t be my place anymore.

my room will be somebody else’s moldy problem.

my friends will be all around the world,

too far away.

i hope this summer is an easy one.

i need a good transition from high school to college.

i want to write and travel and make new friends and read a shit ton of books.

 he time that’s been romanticized in books and movies is here and it’s zipping by! 

oh, what a world i live in.

things i wish i could ask/tell you

was i ever enough?

your inattentiveness fuels my inadequacy.

what did i do wrong?

it’s like you can’t tell i’m hurt.

can i ever do something to fix this?

photo credit: pinterest.com

it’s happening all over again, you just don’t see it.

why can’t you see how it hurts?

she orbits around you like a moon around a planet.

why do you feel more distant, but still so close?

i’m always second place.

why are her feelings more urgent than mine?

when my world collapses on itself, it’s not even a thought.

is it even worth it?

sometimes thinking about how to fix this makes me feel stupid.

do you even like me?

it’s like you’re trying to tug at my heart; i’m too sensitive for this.

when will you realize how i feel?

oh how i wish i could tell you that this is about you.

but, would you even care?

insecure

it’s hard to come to terms with your body

when you’ve never loved it.

it’s hard to come to terms with a place

that you’ve worked so hard to reach

and not see the change you wanted.

yes, i should feel happy in my body,

but it’s hard to

when everyone else’s is what you want.

it’s hard to love a temple that isn’t decorated the way you’d like.

as a whole, i love myself.

but, there’s no part that i fully love.

i’ve always hated my thighs.

even in kindergarten, i’d pinch them

thinking they’d get smaller

as i sat criss-cross applesauce on my classroom’s brightly-colored rug.

recently, i’ve come to despise the flabbiness of my arms.

it’s not that they’re too big,

but i wish i didn’t have to do millions of push-ups to get the tone i want.

it’s hard to love my stomach,

even though it’s just my organs sitting on top of each other.

Photo Credit: pinterest.com

why couldn’t my genes allow my stomach to rest flat?

why can’t i wear my tight-fitting dress without the bump made by my breakfast? 

no, my body doesn’t empower me.

i wish i was taller, thinner, had thicker hair.

i wish my chin was more defined,

my neck the same color as my face.

i wish i could run longer and faster.

i wish i could dance more gracefully; i wish i had more rhythm.

i wish my eyes didn’t water while i wrote this.

damn you, eyes.

i wish i could see 20/20,

not have to worry about my contacts falling out while i’m swimming 

or be able to fall asleep without being confronted with dry, burning eyes when i wake up.

i wish i looked like i did in my dreams.

i wish i could fly all the way to outerspace and swim in the depths of the ocean without my lungs failing me.

for, even without a complex created by magazines,

it’s still hard for me to love the body i’m in.

seventeen

it’s hard to know how you feel when you’re only seventeen years old.

it’s hard to know what you want. in the past, i’ve wanted you, but not in the same way i do now.

now, i want to call you my friend, my best friend. well, one of them at least.

i want you to be my confidant. i want to tell you (and only you) whenever something arises. i’d call you and we’d think of solutions or laugh it off. 

Photo Credit: pinterest.com

i want to binge scary movies with you, staying up until 3 am because we’re too afraid to fall asleep.

i don’t want you like i used to. i used to want to hold you, to run my hands through your hair.

but, i don’t anymore.

at least, i think i don’t i do. 

i don’t want to dance in the rain with you; i don’t want to trace the lines in your hands.

i want to know everything about you, but not know all of you. i don’t need that anymore.

if you read this, which i’m sure you won’t, you’ll definitely won’t think it’s you that i’m talking about and that’s okay.

i just know now, as i’m lying in bed writing this, that i don’t need you anymore. at least, not in the way i did when i was sixteen.

what if

today, i saw you and thought

what if?

you were standing with your friends, 

hair unruly from scrimmaging.

in that moment,

Photo Credit: bustle.com

seeing you for the first time in a long time,

i wish i could be standing next to you.

my mind traveled across the room,

floating nearby yours.

i wanted to hear your words,

know the jokes you were laughing at.

i wanted to be there.

because, in a what if world,

we might’ve walked into that room together.

i might’ve told you the joke you laughed at

or been the one who got the pleasure of having your words.

i might’ve never even thought about a what if without you.

maybe, you would’ve broken my heart already.

i would’ve walked in and turned right around,

a heavy airiness in my chest.

but, i would’ve been able to fall for you.

i know, i’ll never get the chance.

we’re close, yet i’ve never felt farther from you.

maybe you saw me today and went away thinking about me.

maybe you didn’t recognize me, didn’t even deen me significant.

but, i’ll tell myself that tonight

we’ll fall asleep thinking of each other, wondering

what if.

courage

last night, i cried so hard that my ears hurt.

today, i woke up with my throat screaming,

too dry to open my mouth and let air in.

my pillows were still wet,

my eyes still puffy.

when i plopped out of bed,

my knees and shoulders ached

and i buckled under my own weight.

sometimes you wake up with the difficulties of yesterday.

people will spout condolences or positive, affirming quotes,

but no amount of rainbows and hanging cats

could make my heart stop diving down into

the pit of my hollow stomach.

because, it takes a lot,

a whole lot of courage

to leave your hollow space

in the one corner of your bed

when all you want to do

is build a brick wall around it.

Photo Credit: pinterest.com

it takes a whole lot of courage

to let prying eyes bore into your soul

wondering what they can do to help.

it’s hard to face yourself in the mirror

and pick out all the things you’d like to change.

it’s hard being blue

in a world of yellows.

and, yet, you get out of bed.

you brush your hair

and you put on makeup.

you put on your brave face,

because staying in bed all day is one way to cope,

but, it takes courage,

not more or less,

just

courage

to live your life.

Drake’s on his Worst Behavior

Although I could make an entire blog post (honestly, a series of blog posts) on the perfection that is Rihanna, today I’m talking about something she said in her interview with Vogue.

In her interview, she recounted a very famous speech that Drake gave while introducing her as MTV’s Video Vanguard recipient in 2016.

“Waiting through that speech was probably the most uncomfortable part. I don’t like too many compliments; I don’t like to be put on blast,” she said to Vogue writer Chioma Nnadi.

In other words, Drake made her pretty uncomfortable. This very public expression of unrequited feelings made by one celebrity to another is manipulative and harmful. For one, Drake chose to do his manifestation of his feelings in a moment meant to honor Rihanna’s decade-long achievements in the music industry, but, instead, he took away all the sentiment in that speech. 

Photo Credit: naradanews.com

In the wake of Rihanna’s belated response, people have come to Drake’s defense saying he was simply trying to get out his feelings. If he truly had Ri’s intentions at heart, he could’ve expressed his infatuation with her after they left the stage or virtually any other private setting. So, no, it wasn’t a spur of the moment reaction, but a cheap way of revealing his crush on Rihanna in hopes that she won’t immediately reject him.

All in all, I simply think Drake could’ve handled the situation a lot better. Now, the 2016 VMA’s will go down as “that time Drake said he loved Rihanna on TV.” It will never be a celebration of Rihanna’s boundless talent, (those killer performances, though!) which is what she definitely deserved.