Coffins of Porcelain

The air is stale and full of quiet thoughts. The light from above is dim, and over washed tones of pale blues and off whites are the colors that fill this room. She sits alone and on her last string. The water rushes in and moves eloquently at first toward her bare, perfectly manicured feet. It feels quite warm, and to her surprise, comforting. She begins to stare at the small bubbles created by the pounding of water molecule upon water molecule. She is quickly brought back to reality as a current of hot water makes contact with her calves. This is it, she thinks to herself, is this the choice I’m going to make? She already knew the answer, even before the question popped into her mind.

Her hair was the picture of perfection, pulled back into a simple bun atop her somewhat misshapen head .The small black bobby pins barely peeking through luscious, dark chocolate hair. Her cheeks were flushed with coral against the soft pale undertones of her ivory skin. She had eyes that could hold the gaze of any man, but would never let their guard down. These ice blue eyes were rimmed with a solid black outline, carefully painted on as if by an artist of great importance. Her face was meticulously sculpted, beauty that no one had ever seen, but all the while she detested it.

The water level had risen to flow above her knees now. The soles of her feet were now touching the cool, polished silver of the shower faucet, feeling heavy like large boulders. She found comfort on the wall that her head rested upon. This tiled wall had no desire to kiss her or make unwelcome movements toward her, it was simply there to be a shoulder to lean upon. She closed her eyes and took in a deep, slow breath of air. Her eyes opened gradually, wanting to let go of all the anxiety and stress she had been feeling.

Her hands begin to move slowly through the clear liquid and her fingertips begin to gently caress her thighs as she memorizes their individuality. She lifts one hand and examines its lines and structure. As she stares at the her right palm she is remembered that the life line is the longest line in the hand; though hers seems to weave into others. Does that mean that this moment in her life was predetermined when her body was created? Is it fate that has brought her into these last moments of despair? She is not certain, but she presses forward with only few thoughts on the subject.

She lays back, completely at ease. No worries, no thoughts of any kind. Just an open mind and an empty heart. You must take notice of how she does not care that it is empty now. Plenty of men have tried to fill the void but nothing seemed worthwhile, nothing seemed as easy as what is happening now. She wants to let go of it all and be free.

She expels all of the air in her lungs and lets her body slide to the bottom of the hard tub. Once there, she pictures how her life would have been had she been living in someone else’s shoes. She fights her lungs until the world finally goes dark.

This is her porcelain coffin.

Me + Party = Awkward

What is happening to the youth of America? I was being awkward at a party last night (hahahaha) and could not help but notice that everyone I was around was between the ages of 16 and 20. These "kids" were also getting drunk and high. While I have no problem with people doing their own thing, I could not help but wonder why they were doing it.

What exactly is the point to get completely obliterated and making a fool of yourself? I have never been that drunk before but I know that it is not for me. I kinda like being sober. I don't ever want to have the feeling that I have lost control.

Then I take a look at all the girls at the party...do they always have to dumb themselves down just to get attention from a guy who only wants to fuck them? So irritating. When I see that I tend to walk to another room just to get away from these little girls who are craving attention so much that they are willing to act idiotic.


I want to hang out with people my own age now...fuck the drama and games. Lets all just be real. Yeahhhhhhh.

Collide-iscope

I have had plenty of time to think. To turn these simple thoughts into vivid dreams which swirl together and create an entanglement of words. Words which are caught in the ears of the one that cannot speak the truth. Vocal chords stretched thin and almost nonexistant if expressing phrases other than lies. Truth be told, these vivd dreams and complex words are nothing more than wallpaper in monochromatic tones.

Taking Over

I am so tired of ignorant minds.

Every day I feel as though I am never good enough. My original tattoo apprenticeship was denied with reason being that the owner felt I was not ready to tattoo yet. Or that I was not ready for the road ahead of me in the tattooing industry. Come to find out from a very close source that it was because I am a woman and because I am Hispanic. How can someone be judged by the color of their skin and by their gender? Its a load of bullshit if you ask me. I am quite capable of tattooing someone well, whether you think so or not. After all, I have tattooed before, it is not completely new to me.

I thought the days of sexism and racism were behind us. Not completely behind us, but were edging towards the cliff. But no, its these ignorant fucks that think they are high and mighty as to why I feel so angry and annoyed with the world. Would someone please make me feel better because right now I feel pretty low and upset with humanity...

Ups and Downs

i had a dream not long ago
where everything was backwards
downwards was upwards
backwards was forwards
in was out
and we walked on the ceiling

we sat on our heads
and ate with our toes
but these things were not odd
for they were the norm

we did not walk on our two feet
we walked on our hands
the front door to a house
led us to the forest
where our homes were made of water
but we didnt care

we swam through the sand
and flew through the sky
for we had wings that helped us fly
but this was only a dream
i wish it were real
if it was, i would have no problem being
backwards, forwards, upwards, downwards
as long as i was me.