Author Archives: Jessie

It’s when your room feels massive and empty yet trapping and claustrophobic

When you think of everything you did that day and realize it was just you, no one else.

When you stop talking and become engulfed in your own thoughts.

It’s when fear holds you by the throat and drains you of hope.

When thoughts fight other thoughts and doubts become clear.

You wonder to say something but then you’d be desperate

You’re body feels hollow only left with one wish for someone to save you

But they never come

And you’ll cry for no reason

Or at least you think it’s no reason

But really you just don’t want to be alone

Tired of this room

Tired of your screens

Tired of the wind hitting your window

Tired of the silence

Can’t someone say

“ Hello? “

My flesh was once clay

My eyes puddles of paint

Arms toned by hands

Toes cut separate by a knife

My hair was once someone else’s

Plucked into my head

Fingernails planted into the tips of my fingers

Nose poked out from the rest of my face

Cheeks blushed slightly with powder

My mouth was carved open and decorated with teeth

And now I’m the perfect little clay doll

I’m getting so bored of everything.

I’m bored with my phone

I’m bored with my shows

I’m bored with my fashion

I’m bored with my hatred

I’m sick and tired of my mind telling me lies I can’t help but believe.

I hate how I listen to it intently. It doesn’t matter if I know it’s not true, my heart still aches and shrivels. 

Sometimes I think I like hurting. Maybe it’s because I want to be rid of my heart, rid of emotions, rid of everything. 

I’m bored of my pain

I’m bored of my privilege

I’m bored of my hair

I’m bored of my face

I stare and compare, worried if my stomach is hanging. Worried about any bump on my face that shouldn’t be there. I look at my eyes and wish they were unique. I wish my lips were bigger and my sides curvy. I look so plain with my straight brown hair and dirty water brown eyes. My body a block barely tapped into to make a statue. I’ll stare at arms planted with hair that’s grown so long to a man it compares. Ugly so ugly yet I can’t seem to cut it. Because if I did I think I’d love myself even less. 

I’m bored of insecurity 

I’m bored of my nails

I’m bored of being stupid

I’m bored of not understanding

I’m bored of being told what to do

I’m bored of being yelled at.

Sometimes I’m slow to catch things. Or maybe I can’t hear. And people get so angry. They yell or snap, say “nevermind” and I’m left with a silence of annoyance. I hate when it happens. I hate I accept the yelling. As soon as their voice raises my heart immediately turns off and all I’ll say is “okay” or “i’m sorry”. I feel emotionless and robotic. I’m getting so sick of that. 

I’m bored of distractions

I’m bored of trying

I’m bored of being affected 

I’m bored of caring 

I’m bored of making mistakes

I wish I could skip 20 years into the future and see what my life is like. If I became a better person, if I overcame this boredom and found something new. I think we all like to think of the future as prosperous. I think we have to think that way to keep doing what we are. We keep saying it’s because of time we don’t have the things we want. 

In time I’ll figure it out.

In time I’ll get rich

In time I’ll get these problems under control

In time I’ll understand

In time I’ll be perfect

In time I’ll be happy.

And I’m stuck wondering if we ever do become happy; happy like we want to be, instead of the kind we ignore and forget. Or maybe we learn to settle. I bet people would tell you, you learn to appreciate what you have. I bet it’s either that or as time goes by you simply forget everything from old age. I hope I’m happy when I’m old. I hope I get to be old. No matter the answer, I feel trapped to accept it. 

I guess that’s where my boredom comes from

ACCEPTANCE 

There’s nothing I can do aside from  accept and accept and accept and accept… 

It makes everything feel so worthless. A game that plays itself while you merely watch it. 

I want a change. 

I want something new. 

I want to be done with these problems. 

I want to have a choice. 

I want to be in the right. 

I want to be special

I want to be talented 

I want to stop feeling bored.

I should get up

I should be doing homework

I should be praying

I should be showering

I should be washing my face

I should be sleeping

I should be awake on time

I should be saving more money

I should be exercising

I should be organized

I should eat healthy

I should have a daily schedule

I should get chores done

I should clean my room

I should be more supportive

I should stop crying

I should draw more

I should play those games I still haven’t finished

I should put my license on my car

I should put my clothes away

I should stop being mean

I should stop procrastinating

I should be more decisive 

I should be more talented

I should work harder

I should work at all

I should…….

I should…

I should………..

….But I never

ACT.

I don’t want to write right now. 

When I write it makes everything seem so dramatic and full of self pity.

And if it doesn’t then it isn’t good. I guess we like seeing our pain above others that much since we don’t understand them, only ourselves. We’re the same creature and yet we feel so far apart. Emotions become so tiring.

I just want to lay in bed doing nothing for however long I want. Letting not even time hold me back from my desire because one day wouldn’t be enough, a week wouldn’t. 

Please let me be.

I’m tired of needing to do things and be a part of this story game we call society. 

My life is like any book, movie, or game you play. I’m born, I do what I’m told, I don’t do too well, fall in love, and try to grow. 

And I keep trying to grow every single day.

I used to be so persistent in trying to know how I felt about things. I wanted to build strong morals I could believe are absolute. I wanted to work on myself, see things from others perspectives and gain an understanding of how this world works. 

I took everything seriously.

I didn’t want to smile. I didn’t want to go play. I hated the looks, voices, and bent knees. All I wanted was for them to stop treating me like a child. I wanted to be an adult, get my life started and be as successful as possible.  

Now I wish time would stop.

I ignore problems, feelings, and morals. After all that thinking I came to the grand conclusion that it’s all just too confusing. There isn’t an absolute, at least not one that exists in this world. 

Why waste time trying to find one? 

I realize I didn’t enjoy my childhood even nearly enough as I should so now I just want the perks of being a teen. I mean little me couldn’t wait to be one and adults wish they could go to this age sometimes. They say we have way less problems. Well I’m gonna enjoy those less problems. 

I’ll be the stupidest teen who wears the most outrageous clothing and is dramatic about everything. 

Especially this stupid writing.

CW: LOTS OF SWEARING

When I was a kid my dad used to play mario kart with me and my brother. My dad always played as mario, my brother, luigi, and I played as baby mario. My dad would win 1st place every time. I would come close sometimes but he always pulled through in the end. My brother was just a complete waste of space over there cause he was literally a baby.

We made a lot of memories playing that game. The competition was real man. We were crazy. I specifically remember one time where I almost ALMOST beat my dad. I was in the lead, and had been in the lead for a while. It was the last lap and I was so excited yet scared. This was my moment, my time of pure GLORY. I was gonna be top dog. My little 8 year old self was ready to conquer and shove it in my dad’s face more than my neighbors shoved dog poo on our porch cause they were bitches. I was so close, I could see the finish line, taste my dad’s figurative tears of loserness. When all of a sudden…

BEEP.

My kid heart dropped.

BEEP BEEP 

It couldn’t be…

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

NOOOOOO NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

 As soon as the icon appeared, the warning sirens blaring at me. I felt a rage of unfairness seep into the very blood that still flows in me today.

IT WAS A FUCKING BLUE SHELL!!!!

SO GOD DAMN UNFAIR. 

MY BASTARD OF A FATHER ZOOMED PAST WITH HIS STUPID ASS MARIO WINNING FIRST PLACE YET AGAIN.

I was so pissed off. The rage that my own father could have such AUDACITY to throw a blue shell at me right at the end of the round fueled my eyes with FIRE. My hands instantly threw down that controller, clenched into fists and I wanted to beat the shit out of my dad. 

Obviously I couldn’t actually do that so it ended up just being little me throwing around her arms like a lunatic yelling “THAT’S NOT FAIR, YOU SUCK” over and over again while my dad laughed at me. Pretty traumatic if you ask me.

There’s been a thought in my head for the last 8 months.

It’s sat in my head stirring, wondering, deciding. 

When will this thought escape from my lips? When will its words be said?

It starts by thinking of you. 

First it’s just how blue your eyes are and then the feeling of your hair in my hands. I think about how long I’ve known you and how much I’ve loved every moment. 

I’ll think about how you’ve changed my life with kindness and patience. How you’ll sit with me as I cry for the third time that day. 

How I’ve never craved or needed anybody elses touch and hugs the way I do with you.

We laugh and have so much fun. It amazes me. I’ve spent almost every day with you for almost a year and I’m still not sick of you nor you sick of me. There are still things we have to learn about each other and things to experience together. It’s so funny how my thoughts and wants have changed all because I suddenly want to experience every single thing there is to be experienced with you. I want to fill my mind with pictures and memories of you until I can remember every long eyelash I’m jealous of. 

The memories we share have been so amazing. So full of love and excitement. Going to random restaurants or places in the city or eating pizza in the canyon just for the hell of it. We have places we hold dear to our hearts because we were there together. That’s all I could ever want. To be together. You give me motivation to really live my life and do new things. Suddenly I’ve gone to so many new places because of you. Tase, Doki DOki, Eva’s, Platinum, DI, Platoscloset, that one ice cream place, Randy’s records, GRID, east moon, etc. So many places and there’s even more. I want to keep being with you and trying new places.

You help me feel like I can do anything. Your love is a comfort I treasure more than anything.

Sometimes I stare at pictures of those lovely women lost in time with their perfectly delicate curls complementing their face. Their eyelashes are always so natural and delicate. They wear ruffles that flow perfectly at the seam complementing their small waist. In every picture or painting you see of them they always look so surreal and majestic. I love their purity and calmness as if no problem could hurt them. It’s as if their beauty is a weapon of its own cutting into people’s hearts and melting them. They always speak so softly and serenely. Lace, dresses, pastels, parasols, gardens, and flowers. They’re the living spring, the closest beauty to an angel. Sometimes I wonder where that beauty has gone or if it ever really existed in the first place. Afterall, pictures can always be so deceiving of how a person truly is. 

I wish I could be a perfect painting. I want to be every beautiful color on that paper and I want to look at peace for once in my life. Maybe if I was a painting I could stop thinking so much. All I’d do is get admired and eventually discarded. It doesn’t sound like much but I could be captured in any moment or memory forever. Freeze time in my most perfect and happy self. It sounds like the most suffocating dream. I guess it shows how much I wish I was perfect and how badly I wish I could stay happy. 

Tie me up in lace and put flowers in my eyes. Use my body as a vase and let white roses turn red from my blood. I want to be consumed in something beautiful. 

Beauty

Admiration

Adoration 

Yearn

I yearn for peace from peaceful things.

I yearn for peace from pain.

Whether you dressed me up or dressed a corpse all I want is to be free. Free like those women in paintings who have been swinging on the same swing in their most beautiful dress and flowing hair for hundreds of years. How envious I am of them. They just smile and when their painting is thrown out they die as their most beautiful self. It’s not fair. I have to live through this confusion and fog. Why couldn’t I be the beautiful woman wearing pearls and white gloves.

I’m always tired.

My eyes strained with webs

Of red stretched along them. Days and days of 

writing then reading then problem solving. Hours pass me by

As I become a hopeless, sleepless zombie to the

Screen of my computer.

“Get your work done”

“Don’t forget tomorrow you have to do this”

“Don’t sleep”

I work and I work and I’ll take on more work 

Because I have to be doing something. There’s always something more 

I could be doing. I should be tired, I should drain myself, because

If I’m not on the verge of passing out, then I’m 

Not doing enough.

To relax I need to be desperate or ashamed

Because there’s still more I could do. There’s always more. 

Where will I be in 10 years? Am I 

Still stuck in this space of “not enough” and “never satisfied”?

PLease tell me I’m better, tell me I’m okay.

I need to know this is all worth it.

An egg simmering on a pan

Warm smells of batter as they fluff up into pancakes 

Bacon sparking on the stove 

You come to greet me awake but our dog beats you to it with licks and fur my new wake up. As my eyes open I’ll hear muffles of you trying to get the dog down only for me to be happily petting him. You’ll move him aside saying you made me breakfast in bed. I’ll smile, genuinely smile and kiss your cheek a thousand times until it’s imprinted with my lips. I’ll ask you to lay back down with me because I don’t wanna get up but I do wanna be with you. I’ll move the tray to the side and pull you on the bed where I can comb through your hair with my fingers and hug you thank you. As we eat we’ll turn on some cartoon or weird movie you like. Just you and me smiling and enjoying living together. There might be clothes or junk scattered on the floors and maybe we haven’t vacuumed in a couple weeks because “we’ll do it tomorrow” and sure we may have the time right now but I’d rather lay here with you and just enjoy living, resting, waking. Because I work too much and stress too much while you love so much and love some more. 

Our dog, Bowser, keeps chewing up our socks but he’s so cute that while you hide ours I give him a sock every now and then. You keep telling me not too but he just likes them too much for me to stop giving him one every now and then. Some of them are old anyways and I much prefer buying new socks with hearts or cute ruffles on them. 

While we lay here you’ll probably kiss my head several times and ask how the food was, which of course was delicious. It wouldn’t matter if it was burnt or soggy, the eggs not as runny as I like them or my bacon undercooked; because it was made by you and I know it must’ve taken a lot to be able to get up early and make this for me when you sleep in so much. 

After the meal you made me we could get ready together and do errands which coincidentally require us to go to stores we know we’ll buy something else from but there’s definitely a necessity in there. Going to Walmart for groceries only for us to “wander” into the records. Or wandering all of Target even though we only came to pick up my contacts. And since we’re out we might as well get ourselves a nice treat and buy some boba before we go home. Maybe we’d walk around a park for a little while holding hands like it’s second nature. 

How far we’ve come from the beginning when our fingers couldn’t seem to tie correctly. 

Maybe when we got home we’d make something for dinner together. It could be spaghetti because while we were out we saw a nice italian place and now we both craved it. 

While we cooked I’d probably tell you, you look cute in an apron and you’d probably hug me from behind while I stir noodles. And once we get to eat maybe through laughs and jokes you’d tell me I’m beautiful and we’d laugh again because I have sauce all over my face. Even after our laughter died my eyes would still be fixated on you, my mouth would still be curved, and all I could think is just how lucky I am to be with you. And maybe this all sounds like a romanticized normal day but I’d give anything to live it.