For as long as I can remember I have always been haunted by what I now refer to as "The Pressure". This hideous beast contains all that is wrong with the world - doubt, restlessness, greed, anger, love, hate. The Pressure is what makes me vibrate impatiently at the thought of standing in one place for another moment. The Pressure is cripples me with sly thoughts about rent and food. The titanic thick blackness waits just out of view at every turn - waiting to envelop me at any sign of vulnerability. The way your eyes vibrate within your skull and how your vision becomes nothing but a mess of colors and shapes in times of great rage - that's The Pressure.

The Pressure is not a purely malignant force - in today's world of ceaseless gray one would be a fool to assume that anything can be described by such flimsy words as "good" or "evil". The Pressure made me who I am today and even as these words leave my fingertips it is still shaping me. Molding me. The Pressure allows us to see the true nature of our structural fortitude. Perhaps - like the countless others in this world - I am sedimentary and thus destined to be crushed into more and more smaller pieces until I resemble sand. But maybe, just maybe I am a piece of coal just waiting to turn into a dazzling, unbreakable, diamond.

and with that single sentence my heart
hammers inside of my chest and i
i cant breathe
what is wrong you ask
what is wrong
that is a good question that
i wish i could answer
your prying cant help me
because what is wrong
is no outside force
it comes from within
it is the rapid palpitations of my heart that i swear
will **** me young
and the sudden breathlessness
it isnt worth the air anyway
why this panic the world questions

i dont know

i dont know

Victory, conquering, staggering loss, nothing, nothing, everything.

Like walking through a tunnel searching for light and then it hits you and you feel nothing.

Like wanting the sea and getting a river.

Its been a strange one kids.

Im neither happy or sad its over but I am ready to move on.

Slowly.

Patiently.

If there is one thing I'd like for the next year other then fireworks, love and pure creation it would be a little more self acceptance/love/forgiveness.

I've been carrying and nurturing the same wounds for so many years now and all the sudden I am a scarred woman laughing whilst crying, not fully realizing how much lighter things actually are.

Its almost like I miss my darkest days or maybe I haven't found the right things to replace the dark with yet.

I still want more,

more,

more,

of whatever I can get my hands on.

Or maybe its just me getting older. One year at a time.

Happy  just borned Day lovers.

May all our dreams come true so we can create new ones.

since day one, I was the one who made friends easily
I was the one who never had you at hello
I was the one who would always have your back
I was the one with the loudest laugh & the brightest smile
I was the one afraid of commitment because of my past
I was the one you made me open up to
I was the one who told you my story
I was the one who made you cry
I was the one you eventually forgot about, leaving me behind
I was the one who had you at

goodbye
a.c.

i keep finding myself
a few inches away from the
finish line

always a smile too crooked
a laugh too loud
a few answers off
a couple of minutes too late
my age engraved in some
never enough
era

and somewhere in the months
i have mistaken every mistake
from "couldn't" to "didn't try"
efforts shaping into thoughts
effortlessly because of the fear
of rejection

i have let the best of me
get to me

--
while walking home yesterday
I saw a neighbor's cat on a window still
"here kitty, come down"
she waved her paw toward me
as if she understood "hello"
like she has done this a million times
she looked down at the ground
unable to jump
she froze
timid

and I figured
I am not
alone