A tiny little strand of darkness...

I just finished the painting on my door…my cousin and I were so excited to put the faces that I wanted on the doors…she was laughing when I scratch the pencil marks. My door had a lovely face of a woman, hers, a man, she wanted it to look like David Beckham, I tried, but I suck at drawing men, they all turn out gay on the paper… thus, her door looked like an entrance to an angry looking gay guy…she was laughing but I don’t think she’s happy about it…

I was walking down Ayala Ave. earlier talking to a writer, we passed a doughnut house and I said, ‘Do you know what doughnuts are? They're a soul with a hole…’ he cringed at me and told me that one day he wouldn’t be surprised if I started to talk like ‘Yoda’. I freaked, I didn’t want to look like Yoda! Hello, he’s short and ugly, I dread the idea… but he said, ‘You know how he talks, he talks in metaphors.’ I laughed. My god, I reside too much in my head that I’m looking at things differently, I’m starting to be like my old self in college…the freak who talks weird and draws all kinds of dark stuff… Oh no…

Even my music is starting to shift again…I like to drive with a CD full of heavy sounds, a lot of bass, drumbeats and screaming sounds… the angst… oh no, I wouldn’t be surprised if I side sweep another being on the street or scream at annoying crowds…yikes…the other day I was driving and smiling at a thought…I keep playing it in my head…I felt like Roman Dirge, the comic guy who drew a lot of dark but funny little stuff, Lenor cutting animals and body parts…I pinch myself momentarily…wake up! Dexter are you in me? I don’t even want to entertain the idea in my head, it’s funny but crazy… it’s my funny little secret… slice and dice… a smirk and a laugh… hahaha, it would make a good plot for a serial killer series… I will write it down when I get the time…

I scare myself sometimes… there’s a tiny little strand of dark cloud and I’m scared that one day my green heart will be covered with it… I hear RNB playing, yes, ‘good girl gone bad.’ Oh my… not me... that’s not what I am made of…

Push and blame… in you and in me… no… please not me…

I got a text from my mom today, I miss her… I wish I’m back in her arms like a baby… she would take care of me… only in her arms will I feel safe…