Category Archives: l

take all of my irrational fears
put them in one person.
and then, ask me
ask me why i freak out



as we grow older, we all get our ‘first’s who set our standards for our future love life. I have never been anybody’s first and I have always felt that I was lacking a ‘wow’ factor to score such a factor. firsts are always beautiful creatures worthy of being muses. not only are they beautiful but they’re also smart and creative.

1) diana ring
oh, how i’ve wished I was you. how many days have I dreamed of dying my hair pink and forced myself to like Thrice and Thursday. how I’ve dreamt of running into you at Clark University… cutting up my shirts. days of staring at pictures of you, wondering how I could be more like you… after all, I have failed. I am not you, I don’t enjoy drinking that much, or destruction but I’ll still try to get 13 earrings. 3 down, 10 to go.

2) melanie espinosa
I’ve always admire how you’ve managed to charm and destroy two guys, best friends mind you, but I have never envied you. I don’t know why you’ve ever seen me as a threat since I obviously have nothing on you.

3) amanda feder
I have never really wished to be you but I’ve always admired you from afar. I see you as the ultimate artists’ muse. maybe if I was wittier, more aware, more beautiful, more extroverted… but alas, I will never be.

as for me, my first was P. he was OK-looking, very skinny. he had that magic touch that could bring the whole world at his feet. he was witty, aware and had such a contagious love for life and music. who could ever dislike this man?

Though P is my first “love” I have never had a first boyfriend. d always thought he could love me, but I could clearly see his inability to comprehend me. everyone that came along always lacked the one most important quality of all, which is the ability to deal with me. if you ran, if you ran… well, no matter how amazing or inspiring you were, then you were still not worthy enough to be My First Boyfriend.

I guess my problem was I never liked a guy who liked himself.

everybody’s a little bit…

it seems, once again that I have types. my types are based on previous prominent love interests.

type 1: p, nc, a
that seemingly perfect type who remains single for long periods of time, and for reason. the incredibly passionate art lover with an amazing amount of wit and wisdom. the type I wanna follow around to glimpse at the world through their pink colored glasses. unavoidably everyone wants them and I don’t stand a chance. I will never be able to be with one of these guys, only one night stands.

type 2: d, p (and b)
this is a very peculiar type that I cannot comprehend. this guy will inevitably come with a lot of baggage, and this baggage usually comes in the form of a baby. explain to me the psychology behind this cause I cannot figure it out.

type 3: p, b and l
this is the type that makes me feel good about myself, like no matter how stupid I get, their opinion of me will never change. I get peace of mind as I always feel redempted and therefore can lead my life the proper way.

type 4: m, b, k, t
these are people I convince myself to like due to similar cultural background. there’s always a lack of understanding, acceptance and chemistry that I cannot overcome.

type 5: s, l, a, p
inevitably through the mistakes I’ve made with people I really like (and thus them disappearing from my life like a transient mystery) I beg for a chance to do it over. often that fails as I try to shape these people into their original form. I yearn and I fail. I like you for the wrong reasons.

type 6
this one remains alone in this category as I haven’t dared touch or attempt to redeem myself through someone else. I often think of you as the only person I have ever really liked. I could never forget and forgive myself the disappointment I have caused you and the filth I have thrown myself in. I often think of you as my biggest mistake, but also my biggest secret.

why am I mentioning my types? cause I like a type 3 again. and I feel complete and happy. I won’t dare think of breaking this, I cannot. I cannot bear the thought of losing again whether by accident or my own self-sabotage. I refuse.

I will lead my life like chapter 4 of Watchmen. like Dr. Manhattan I will observe idly by while past, present and future happens in front of my very knowing eyes, and I will refuse to take part in it. kind of like a victim, but also in stubborn obstination not to provoke life but let it take its course.