*insert emotions too unfathomable to plot on paper here*

mushaboom

hi there

looks weird but....yeah

sloppy sketches {sigh, i tried}

This looks like a caricature. Wtf. Her arm looks deformed but be that as it may. I'm too discouraged to make amendments to that as of the moment. 

Sigh. I just feel very frustrated. I think I screwed up my canvas painting, and I'm having daily sessions for 2 weeks which means, I'll probably be reminded of my failure every single day until I get to bring it home and hide it. 

{12:16 am on a monday}

• I've been out the whole day with my little family of three. Sunday mornings will always and traditionally be about waking up at 6 am, going to church and breakfast. From there, it either gets better, or plummets downhill. 
• Why is it May? And why is it June next month? Wasn't it just April days ago? Why is life passing me by? 
• Last few weeks of art workshop. Painting on canvas tomorrow. I should be excited but I'm not. I've figured it out. I want to do art at my own free will. I want to do it according to my own way of doing it. I don't want a uniformed or universal structure to follow.  I feel quite trapped following the proper drawing proportions of the human body, or having a schedule to religiously attend to, but I am more than happy to be learning. I'm happy to have all these illustrations to follow and look up to as I cannot rely on my own imagination to come up with the right things at the right time.  I'm happy to see my own hands filling up the pages of a sketch book that used to be blank, but I'm afraid that's what makes up most of it. Maybe that's what I signed up for. Maybe all I wanted was to bring a used-up sketch book and a painted canvas home at the end of the summer in order to feel accomplished and useful. Or maybe I still feel quite alone in the midst of all those people and kids who talk too much. Maybe I still feel awkward when someone looks over my shoulder to watch. Maybe I still dread the stiff necks I get from hunching over for too long. But I am happy, somehow, to some extent. 
• I'm sorry. I just poured myself out. Did that make sense?
• I don't know why but you are lovely. 
• I hope I dream the sweet dreams tonight, but just in case, could you dream the sweetest ones you could dream for me? 
• I miss a lot of things that most  probably wouldn't miss. 
• I'm not feeling so well. I should just sleep this off.
• Why do I slack off so much?
• Ugh, it's Monday. 

{in slumber}

Sleep knows me well

too well 

 it has roamed  the  dustiest corners

of my nervous system 

(and that's saying a lot, if i myself must say so)

it knows what i long for

what i longed for

it knows that my longing 

will be the death of me

it knows that it can kill me

in itself

but it has done something much worse

it has left me 

dying 

 in the most subtle way

this is the reason 

why i had no words left

when i woke up one day

at noon

conflicted

when i stayed under the covers

crumpled

when i never left my bed 

until the clock screamed

it was 5 pm. 

for chryssie

Happy 15th. Stay lovely. I love you. 

{dear janina}

Dug up my old sketchbook and this fell out. I was actually planning to give you this during your birthday but I...er...lost it. You know how scatterbrained I was during the academic year.

Anyways, here it is. I'm sorry if this looks sloppy and mediocre and all. I miss you. I hope the three of us can hang out soon. 

{my blog keeps me company}

no one here asks if i'm okay

or if  i'm happy

or if i'm hungry

no one here asks how i am 

or if i'm holding up

or if i want some company

no one here  greets me good morning

or asks me what i've been up to

or  gives me a hug when i'm down

which is why I have a blog

but i'm sorry

if sometimes

 it does not suffice

i need real people too

{sleep cures perfection}

I was angry
so I spread myself on the cold tiled floor 
 bled with colors and words instead of tears 
this is what became of me.