This is a collection of writings from January 27th, 2020. I wrote A LOT this day and didn’t title most of these writings. I just remember my mind was all over the place this day, and I was not in a good place mentally, physically, or emotionally. You will notice that all of these writings have a central theme: relationships. They explore the relationship with my father, relationship with myself, relationship with one of my exes, and mostly the relationship with my romantic partner at the time (who is now an ex as well). The writings in this blog post are in the same order as they are written in my journal and are written exactly how they were written in my journal a year ago. If you pay close attention, they all tie into each other.
Reflecting on these writings a year later is very triggering, but also uplifting. I remember how I felt when I first wrote these writings, and I can feel those feelings again as I read and type the words written a year ago from my journal on this blog post. Conversely, I feel uplifted because I am no longer in this negative mental, physical, and emotional space anymore. In these writings, I mention that I was afraid to walk away from this negative space and questioned if walking away from it was the right decision. A year later, I can tell myself, my old self, that yes, that was the right decision and the BEST decision. I’m proud of myself for having the courage to walk away and find peace. Word of advice to anyone reading this: Always remember to follow your gut. Enjoy the writings.
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I have some type of special connection with my dad, as if we’re like the same person. We feel the same things, sometimes at the same time, even if we’re far apart. Even though we don’t talk as much as we used to; we do a lot of communicating without communicating. Staring at each other across bedrooms: wide eyed, brown eyes, but you see the whites of our eyes the most. “What you looking at?” We’d usually pause at the door and say. And we’d say, “nothing” and laugh. I remember when he used to come home from work when I was younger asking, “What’s the word on the street?” and I’d say, “Ain’t no word on the street.” And we’d laugh again. I have a lot of amazing memories with my dad. I miss him when we’re away from each other. I’m so thankful for his presence in my life and passing down that trait of hard work and dedication, money hungry, and preparation.
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Time doesn’t fix anything. Time is a waste of time because overtime things don’t change because of time. Time don’t fix the broken mirror nor does it fix the broken glass. You sweep it up and keep it moving. You sweep it and throw it in the trash and start over. I thought time would make it better, make it stronger. Over time there’d be light at the end of the tunnel. The light that we had hope for. The light that we had faith in. But maybe we have hope in a light that’s not there. Faith in something we’ll never see, something we’ll never be. Maybe there’s not even a tunnel. Maybe it’s make believe. What we have faith in is just our imagination. Something that we’ll never see, something that we just believe in.
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Been asking God for a sign. I feel like I’ve seen it. I turned a blind eye to it and then saw it again. God can give me the sign, but I can still ignore it. He gave me free will so I can act upon it, if I like. I keep asking for the sign when I’m in confusion, knowing He already gave it to me, and I been made a conclusion. Months ago. I think I know what I want. I think I know what I wanna do. Time’s got me conflicted with the truth. What is my truth? What is my truth? I can’t figure it out. Fantasizing about the what ifs and how it could be in the future, not knowing if that’s how it’ll really be in the future. Only God knows. Are you compatible with my future? Are we compatible? I don’t know.
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Go and find her if you think she’s out there and not here. I’m not stopping you. I’d rather you have what’s best for you.
A Day in the Life of a Perfect Day
Leave me alone. I literally don’t wanna talk to anybody, or anyone talking to me. Leave me alone. Just act like I don’t exist for a day and give me some space. I just want space to myself where I can relax and think and breathe, be myself and not worry about anything. Look at my to do list and get things done. Check off all these boxes and then go for a run. Eight miles without feeling tired, coming back and taking a long, hot shower. Feeling good and smelling better, while listening to my favorite tunes. Hugging on my stuffed animal monkey while eating some food. Dancing in my room by myself. Then watching my favorite shows on TV or maybe YouTube, Netflix, or Hulu, all while the pink lights are dim. Window slightly cracked letting the fresh, fall air in. Sniffing in the candle warmer scent of pumpkin. Shade is up a little, but to let some natural sun in. Natural light is the best. My plants love it. Let me get my meditation in. Let me balance my chakras, do a little yoga too. I’m trying to flex my body and become more flexible. Let me say my prayers, thank God for all I have. Now let me relax and go to bed. A day all to myself, I really enjoyed it. I ended it by writing in my journal, of course. Writing is my favorite pass time.
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I remember crying all the way here, holding my stuffed animal monkey tight, letting his stuffed animal skin catch all of my tears. I’m surprised no one noticed I was crying while at my gate, at the McDonald’s, on the plane. Not even my parents recognized the shakiness in my voice when it changed while we were in the car on the freeway, on the way to the airport. I wanted to yell, “turn around!” “Take me home.” so bad. I kept thinking about it in my head and my packed bags in the trunk. We weren’t that far from home; we could turn right back around and go home, and it’ll all be over. That could’ve been my reset. I don’t know how I held in the tears when I hugged my parents goodbye. I walked through the doors of Delta, rolled my heavy suitcase into a bathroom and cried. Holding my breath so the other people in the other stalls or coming in and out couldn’t hear. What was I doing? Was I making the right decision? Was I following my gut? No. My gut was telling me not to go, not to come. Yet here I lay in this bed where you and I sleep, where I make you cum. But you never made me come . . . cum either. It was a decision on my own. Now every few days I’m contemplating what it would be like, what it would look like, if I was on my own. Till this day, I still don’t know if I made the right decision. Still trying to figure out if I belong here, if this is where I’m supposed to be. All I know is, I cried all the way here and my tears and gut told me this is not where I’m supposed to be. Yet I’m still here. So what’s keeping me here? Is it love? Is it potential? Is it hope? Is it time? What the fuck is it? The worst thing about being a Libra is being indecisive. What do I want? Tell me. What do I want? I need to know. I need me to decide. I need an answer and do not lie. Tell me my truth. Tell me what’s really up. If I were to walk away right now, what would I lose? What would I gain? How would I feel? How much pain? On a scale of one to ten. Rate the pain, is it worth enduring if I walk away? Will I be happy? Will it be worth it in the long run?
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Tired but restless. My head hits the pillow, but I feel like I’m headless. The room isn’t spinning, but it feels like my head is. Can’t figure out where my head is, like Efron gotta get my head in the game. I don’t know where my head it. My head is gone. Lost in thoughts and poetry, handwritten solemn. Can’t put me in a column cus I’m misunderstood. My head is too complex to be understood.
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Why don’t we just give up now? What’s stopping us? Love? What’s that? Not the glue to a relationship, that’s for sure. But, I feel like that’s what’s making us stay. What’s stopping either of us from walking away? Are we afraid? Are we that afraid to lose each other? What’s stopping us from saying we’re done once and for all? and walking away and never looking back, blocking each other on every social media app and never hearing from each other again? Why don’t we just let the relationship end?
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My ex wasn’t the best, but we definitely had a good time together. I don’t think I’ve met the best yet because I haven’t felt my best yet. Even though he cheated, he still treated me with some respect. Late night pizza runs while handing me a flower and some midol to help my stomach cramps. He wasn’t a romantic but he could be sometimes, and I appreciate that. We were goofy asl together and awkward af. We did the goofiest shit: love taps, dancing, and serenading me with music. Singing “Cupid” even though you were no cupid, but you had definitely struck me with your bow. We were so creative together. Awkward creativeness and weirdness when we came together. Only some alien shit that we would think of. Polaroid pics in your dirty room. Posing with the peace sign walking on the path on a full moon. Outside by the lake and the waves. I remember those days. We were crazy. Crazy in love. No Jay-Z or Beyoncé. I remember feeling annoyed by you a lot of times but never devalued until I found out you cheated. Heard you were fighting with your demons, guess I’m finally facing mine too. Now I understand what you were going through. I aint mad at you. I been forgave you. You put me on to music and a unique sound. Introduced me to Cozz, Dreamville, Chance, and so many other artists I probably would’ve never discovered on my own. I feel like we were compatible because we were so much alike. But our alikeness didn’t keep us together. Our love didn’t keep us forever. We had to go our separate ways, and I still think to this day, that’s what was best for us.
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Sometimes I feel like I’ll be better off single. I remember thinking that since the day I discovered my dreams to travel abroad, learn different languages, travel the world on the government’s money, pursue a PhD, startup my screenwriting career, write for TV. I always knew I’d be on the run chasing my dreams, chasing my passions, and I knew no one would ever be there for the ride to ride along and support my dreams and ride for me. I don’t know if anyone is really down to do that.