Slow Down

I hate rushing. I love taking my time, being meticulous, and doing things to the best of my ability. Like when I cook slowly, plating the dish perfectly. I’m writing this blog post slowly, ensuring the words sound right. It’s time-consuming, but it’s undeniably satisfying.

I think we have an overcomplicated life because even as a 16-year-old my schedule is packed. I don’t have the time to be a perfectionist and that makes me sad. Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t give my 100% to everything, but at the same time, I hate the pace at which I’m forced to live.

My second-semester junior year burn-out has inspired me to write about this, because never have I felt the time crunch more. I procrastinate too, which as you can imagine, only forces me to rush more as deadlines approach.

Thank god summer is on its way. For the first two weeks, I will rest, relax, and move through my days in slow motion, soaking up every minute.



Everyone has that one person who propels you forward, who supports you when times get tough and it seems like you are drowning. To me, that person is Dravin. She has been my life preserve, my oxygen mask. I do not think she knows how much she has changed my life, how much she means to me.

Dravin helped me when no one did. She helped that young 10-year-old who thought life was not worth it and made it her mission to make sure it was. She helped that twelve-year-old girl who almost let the bullies win. She helped that fourteen-year-old who moved away because she knew it was best for herself. She helped that sixteen-year-old try and gather the pieces of a broken relationship. She helped that almost eighteen-year-old with her first breakup and told her that life will go on even if it does not feel like it right now.

From the beginning, she was the most understanding soul. She would give me paint and crayons and tell me to “create masterpieces for me,” so that my mind was at ease. She knew how hard it was for me to express my feelings, so she distracted me. She created this safe space for me. A place where I could speak freely without any judgment. A place where I could have a shoulder to cry on. Even when she was with her family, she would take my calls and help me with my breathing.

Dravin saved me. I owe my life to her, but I know that she would just say that she is doing her job.

pc: me


I just suck at writing anything important

like literally what is the point? 

I surely am not a writer 

Im yet to get any better 

Even when I try 

Lela writes some ballad 

And mine are overlooked.


I just kinda feel shitty. 

I mean 

It’s such a vulnerable thing 

For so little reward. 

When I write for college 

I get something out of that 

When I write essays 

I can see the reward 

But blog posts 

Another 10 points in my derelict grade book 

Im writing bad poetry right now 

So at least 

People will know I didn’t try 

And that way 

When im vulnerable 

I can just blame it on 

Not caring 

Seems to be the trick 

No matter how much you actually care 

If people think you don’t 

You have nothing to lose 

If you care 

Emotion gets in the way 

And feeling conflict with each other 

So why don’t we just play cool 

Put our feet up 


And pretend 

Nothing really matters. 

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pc me

puffy eyes

an observation on what makes me cry:

  • My little sister’s tears
  • Academy Award Show acceptance speeches
  • essential oils when they get in my eyes
  • As by Stevie Wonder because it reminds me of what could have been.
  • Thinking about my aunt, my grandmothers, my grandfather, my idol…
  • animals with huge eyes
  • Seeing my brother cry
  • second-hand embarrassment
  • Helpless people that deserve better 
  • Doing something I really dont want to do 
  • My allergies 
  • Movies and TV Shows with happy endings 
  • Movies and TV Shows with tragic endings
  • Seeing my parents cry 
  • Death and birth
  • when people are awarded things that they deserve
  • spicy foods
  • when I stare into the sun during sunset and the wind blows in my face.

– from the perspective of a seventeen year old girl

My Quirky Self

There are many things in life that I do to calm myself down and relax. Personally, I think that the ability to relax easily is a gift that some people don’t have, me being one of the less fortunate. I have something called Propreoseptive nervous system disorder, which is a disorder that causes a variety of symptoms. These symptoms can include not realizing your own strength or how close you are to others and the ability to walk in a straight line. All of these symptoms are affected by proprioception which the dictionary defines as “perception or awareness of the position and movement of the body” this can cause you to lean on desks because you feel like you need extra support when sitting because you are unbalanced. Anyway back to the idea of relaxing, I find myself laying on desks breaking pencil lead or getting really close to people without realizing and I find that it makes others uncomfortable, occasionally I will flat tire people because of getting as close as I do. I find it hard to relax because I feel like I’m sitting weird when I’m sitting and this causes me to wiggle about in my seat and always need to be moving. I am also really impulsive and end up saying shit with no context or just not thinking before I speak or move. I can tell that this impulsiveness is irritating to others because of the fact that people tend to try and stay farther away from me rather than close. I may put out that I’m confident and strong-willed but I’m really nervous making every decision and I always have this thought in my mind that people hate me and I make myself think that I don’t know why but in reality it’s all because of my idiocy and how I push myself into conversations all the time. I feel a sense of mauerbauertraurigkeit (describes people who build an emotional wall around them and then, paradoxically, suffer from the resulting loneliness) in my life that I can’t get rid of and it makes me feel cut off when I do have friends and people that want to hang out with me I just struggle being there face to face with them.

Photo Credit:

monday night’s epiphany

hello, currently it’s 10:22 PM on a monday night and, for some reason, a tear drop is running down my left cheek.

it’s so insane to me that once you enter relationship with someone, everything you do, whether they see it or not, belongs to them… and everything the other person does, whether you see it or not, belongs to you.

belongs may be the wrong word and likely is, but, like i said, it’s 10:22 PM. The same single tear is running down my face for no reason and i have a migraine, so, to say the least, i’m feeling frazzled. but, i know if i don’t write this now, i never will.

this isn’t my finest writing, not in the least, but… when you date someone, it seems to me that they could be right in front of your eyes playing soccer while you watch from the sidelines, they could be giving money to a homeless person you only know about because of their friend that told you about it, or they could be doing something small, but wonderful you’ll never know about like maybe just helping their family cook dinner. all of what they do you can say is yours. they belong to you, they belong to you.

photo credit: pinterest

that person is yours in all their beauty. this is what i mean when i say i think every single person is beautiful… because it doesn’t matter the gender, the color of their fucking skin, or how many pimples they have. what matters is how they act, not only when they’re with you, but when they’re by themselves and what they do for others.

i don’t think i’ll ever be worthy of someone fully, because that incapsulates what they do when they’re alone and i think that’s a whole lot of beauty, almost too much. i will never be able to reciprocate, nor will i be ever deserving of such a thing… because to be deserving of all that is a lot of responsibility.

and oh, oh i wish i was. how i wish i could belong to someone else fully and they could belong to me and i could not be so utterly fascinated by the fact that they just merely exist and i wish maybe i didn’t have to self-sabotage myself because i feel so utterly underserving.

this isn’t meant to be self-depreciation, no, not in the least. this is just me expressing how i don’t think i’m worthy for being in being in relation with another living human being, because, even the fact that they’re a living human being is much too incredible.


I hear a lot of people say, “Why is my life so hard?”

And I want to ask them back is, “Why do you think that your life shouldn’t be hard?”

People, including myself, have a tendency to perceive hard lives to be unhappy lives.

However, if you change the way you think a little bit, you can be happier than before.


There are tiring parts but there are still fun parts in our lives.

If you don’t love all your tough challenges and uphill battles, you are not loving your own life.

Love your entire life, even the hardest parts of it.

Happiness will then come to you.



Just Another Poem.

It’s strange, it’s different.

It’s not the same.

Yesterday, I was holding the key to my heart.

Today, I am letting the empty memories slip through my fingers.

One big mistake, buried under silence. One mistake. That’s all it took to pull that loose string, and unravel the monster within.

Lies, lies, and broken ties. Trust is gone, trust is gone.

But still, beneath it all, I don’t want to move on. It doesn’t feel right.

Moving along, following his steps, mixed feelings, uncertainty, rest.