04/04/2022 06:21 PM  04-04-22, 18:21 PM the body loses water when you jog, so you have none left for tears. qiwu lost may on april fool's day. and i lost my senses. insanity was building up and slowly starting to spill. and like a can of sour, expired pineapple i let out the most horrible things using the acridest juices in my mind to spit out empty, venomous words. maybe i am just another can of pineapple. i did a minuscule thing i don't think anyone would consider courageous. it was a feat to me regardless; to walk around my neighborhood alone. to let my instincts take control and to get lost in familiar alleyways and streets for once. to lose myself in the crowds and the sloppily painted pavements and the smallest pieces of rubble i step on. i guess we all have our own versions of may in our own circumstances. qiwu believed that may was worth losing pennies and getting stomachaches over. that may was worth multiple calls that resulted in dead ends and crackled air. i guess my may is worth getting lost over. and nearly getting run over. and getting sh*tty car fumes spat all over my face over. and losing fluids inside my body over. am i even wording it right??? they're worth more than that, really. i wonder if they'd even let me call them mine still. i think capturing someone's heart is a myth because the closest thing to that which you can really do is intertwine the most specific moments you've had with each other. but i guess to a certain extent there will be so many canned memories shared between the two of you that, like qiwu, you'd wonder if they'd have an expiry date too. and then wish that they'd be so non-perishable the can would last for centuries. my throat was dry outside but it was better than having my chest constricted while being cooped up in my room. i think i nearly got a heart attack from staying inside and rethinking one too many things that could have gone better. throwing up and losing sleep and palpitating like crazy and wasting time. my may is worth more than these things. it's just that i always thought that pain over someone was a silly sensationalized teenage stereotype you'd see in media. what would i have known? i always stuck with flings and ended them before i could even count to ten to avoid getting hurt. i always plastered smiles upon hurt feelings out of the fear that no one will ever take me seriously. i never settled and lent my time and effort to anything that would make me attached to anything or anyone. all because i always wanted to peel the bandage off first. to be the one that never feels the sticky, painful end of the plaster. and i guess in this situation it's partially covering my wound and exposing me to the harsh realities of my defense mechanism.  i looked around and wondered. do you think other people have their own mays? i wonder what the definition of thirty pieces of canned pineapple is to them. do you think they'd like to join me for a jog too? do you think there are others like me who need to clear their heads? to always look forward and never towards the setting sun because then their hearts would start racing like crazy again? that they'd feel like the entirety of their chest cavity would explode if they look at familiar pink skies for even a millisecond? but i'm stubborn. to an extent. so i looked anyway. we don't have to talk. could i just sit here? and with all the strength i can muster i respect this request for rest even though it hurts. i jogged home.  i sound utterly corny and stupid. my words lack the cadence and rhythm they possess. there is no skill or dexterity in these words. only regrets and too much pain my once fickle heart could ever handle. i wonder if, compared to he qiwu, i do end up getting back to room 702? and maybe i get to find out if she likes pineapple. and maybe this time i'll never keep her waiting. makes them nervous.   0 Comments

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02/26/2022 02:44 AM  02-26-22, 02:44AM can't let go of the heat can't let go of your hand can't let go of the heat can't let go of your hand............ i roll into the deep end. a spur of the moment thing... reliant on positive emotions and 24 hour-long interactions. planned entirely based on impulse and heart rates that go past the top of the holter monitor. it's swift like the beginning, like the fresh january air that crackled with possibilities and led to the days filled with blooming possibilities i've been lucky enough to observe today. it lacks the coldness the first month of the year had, however... there is no more chill. no more conversations empty enough to leave you frozen into place. it's reminiscent of all the stories we share. the fanfictions read. all the plots start to meld with each other and sound like a large-scale production of a sapphic film with a star-studded cast. and then when i tell myself to wake up to reality i am greeted by her warmth and her arm around mine. independence... it is all i've ever learned. i have mastered contentment within exploring the depths of my own soul. development is the only thing to derive joy from... bonds with others have only ever stood as a mere accessory to me. the basic empathy built into the very core of my emotions is like a standard manual from years ago that's been outdated and left in the corners of the bookshelf to gather dust. it still works... it's still worthwhile... yet it lacks so much that i'm left alone to wonder and figure things out on my own. no physical touch no words no nothing... i only preferred affection in the form of words bottled up and curated in dainty jars that have been kept for a lifetime. my tongue touches the tip of my front teeth. the front incisors ever so slightly meet with the bottom of my lips... love. there was never really any room for love. i was always told to avoid it at all costs as it would only be a fork in the road towards my path to success. and my soul grew to be so work-oriented it obtained happiness from the bare minimum. flirting and empty words in exchange for the experience everyone else has claimed to have (except for me...) selling my most personal moments for praise and validation until the satisfaction escapes in the blink of an eye. love is... not the five-minute quickies and sloppy makeout sessions found in chick flicks from twenty years ago. love is... learning to offer pieces of your heart to those that you love most and not worrying about getting it back anymore. it is both the tango of the giddy emotions and genuine concern that swirl together to form a smoothie so sweet that it hits the spot just right every time. it is having the sudden jolt in your nerves to engage in small talk and converse about the most mundane things. and saying sweet words that actually carry weight. and letting clumsy hands wrap around you even when physical touch is one of the things you hate most because it feels nice and it washes away every single regret and replaces it with the smallest amount of hope that could be pulled from who knows where despite the absurd number of pessimistic bones in your body... and it leaves my heart powersliding for hours. she lets me carry reminders i can hold while she carries the memories that she can replay in her mind for as long as she wants to. and the replica perfume that i had on now stained her shirt and it left her with the scent of a memory she'll never forget. or at least i hope so. an embrace that i wish lasted longer. a laugh that still rings from ear to ear. fluorescent lights that i never even paid attention to... which i now know; i memorize their every hue with the quick scan of an eye. sceneries far from attractive ingrained in my mind. the steps on certain concrete roads we once stepped on are now suddenly so vital to me. i would like to retrace them and relive the night again. i wish it didn't have to end so soon. i'll keep your banana bread with me for as long as i can ♥ powerslide... 0 Comments

02/15/2022 01:32 AM  02-15-22, 01:32 AM and so i gamble my most prized possession in the game i've been invited to play. started with a message and now she takes up even the tiniest cavities inside my heart. i put my emotions on the line for a taste of puppy love that leaves you high on the euphoria brought upon by teenage romance and blissful moments of intimacy only words between two lovers can bring. f*** labels, f*** clarity, f*** definitions. i only live in the moment and disregard every chance we get to delineate what we actually are. wishing for the highs without the lows. the pleasure without the pain. or so i thought. nights spent staring at my ceiling and feeling like the four walls of my room are closing in on me. a certain song on loop for the entire night as i think back on regrets and good decisions. everything reminds me of her. soft pillows and the comforting night breeze. her smile that flashes in my mind and leaves me giddy. my heart threatening to jump out of my chest as it beats uncontrollably quick. the feeling is so unfamiliar it provides me with a slight discomfort that turns into dopamine which flies me up to the clouds. she's all i ever talk about. calling her my girlfriend behind closed doors and in conversations with strangers.  promises of patience and understanding. "i'll always be here." so deeply engrossed in her life like a book i've read from cover to cover. making sure she's okay. being the shoulder to cry on even when there are battles that commence inside my own head. keeping it together and breaking down. balancing out the opposites... and feeling right. the doubts and regrets inside my mind about her were long gone and faded into the background. my future is blurry and unknown. i trace the map my parents set out for me but my hands keep drawing jagged lines over the straight ones they illustrated. the lead tip of the pencil keeps breaking into minuscule pieces and smearing over directions they always told me to never cross. my desire to constantly break ties and be familiar with no one else's soul but my own... what happened to the original plot??? one thing's for sure though... i sure do kind of hope there are more mornings with light pink skies and dewdrops that are adorned by her. I got a heart that don't speak to me anymore And life gets hard but these last days been meanin' more I'm just tryna get my bands up Why you runnin' through the banners I don't understand this You should find your way home I hate my yearbook photo I hate my passport I hate my last name I hate everything it stands for I should probably f***ing transfer Blue and brown JanSport Tired of public transport I never went to prom Now I'm stuck on the dance floor Just holdin' your hand Just holdin' your hand And I'll be (I'll be) Right outside your front door On my twelve speed (twelve speed) I got your emotions tattooed on my sleeve (my sleeve) I think about you all the time I've waited for you all my life I need you right here by my side empty 0 Comments

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12/21/2021 04:37 AM  12-21-21, 04:37 AM and whenever i tell the universe a joke it will always have the last laugh. sending my giggles and smiles to the skies only for things to come crashing down. i comply and change and adapt like im an organism from a million light-years ago. pretending and improving and continuing to try in the hopes that it'll work this time.  i've got people who know the secrets i will take to my grave, got people who will withstand my sudden bursts of emotion just because they can, got people that provide me company and comforting words that i gladly reciprocate.... shared interests and emotions and years that pass by as if they were bullet trains passing by skylines. there are no holes in my heart; i have filled it to the brim with both meaningful and pointless memories in the hopes of accomplishing the feeling of "enough." the feeling of being "just fine" and "it's alright." it's not exactly contentment, as it stands in the middle of the border between being satisfied and still wanting more. and i understand that i will always want more. is it so foreign, however, to ask for people (who are not bound to me by blood) to care for me as much as i do for them? forming bonds online, through pixelated screens and empty words so easily dropped through the courage provided by anonymity. so much easier to talk to people when they're a million miles away. so much easier to bare your soul to a person void of a first impression, them only being a clean slate ready to be painted over with your very unique and glorified perception of them. it's all incredibly quick and a bit too fast-paced to be kept up with. talk to one person today, another to the next. completely fry your brain with too much stimulation and conversation. submerge it in the dopamine these provide. rinse and repeat. stuck here wishing on stars that have fallen and given up on traveling to the ends of the earth just to achieve my wishes because they can't take it anymore. wishing for people who remember me in the way i remember them. wishing for people to recall hyper-specific details i've dropped in conversations like how i see something that reminds me of something they've said years ago. what would make me think of you? laughing it off... maybe now is not the time, or so i think to myself. and i circle back to the past few years and realize that nothing has changed. i'm the amalgam of a stranger and a friend. giving and offering so many pieces of my soul and ignoring the fact that i've saved none for myself, hoping that maybe this time i won't 'be forgotten. is it too early to be thinking so negatively? i hope so. but it's also silly to realize you've always merely existed as a choice to everyone else your entire life. just another one for the seasons. switching me out for the newest collection once summer ends. that's a good one. now please allow me to leave. i've wanted out for so long. desired for connections beyond screens for so long. wanted friends i'd be able to sustain and have even when i turn my phone off for so long. it's not funny anymore............   0 Comments

11/13/2021 04:03 AM  11-13-21, 04:02 AM exchange comfortable conversation for remarks tinted with the slightest bit of teasing. they're similar to the promises i keep in my heart and bury inside its tiniest veins. they're not serious, always half meant with the intention of getting attention. i go past the principles of what it means to be someone who has never felt genuine attraction towards a man....... i get high off of validation. get high off of the sensation and faintly increased pulse and act like it's ephedrine.... as if i need it. and it is entertaining to me the same way i flip through dead channels fighting for their life on outdated cable tv. something about the sensation... about someone else painting a picture of you inside their mind with unadulterated concern and excitement. maybe something else even... it's exhilarating, to be satisfied by words so vacant and overused. and a few more steps in this direction and i suddenly do not know where i'm going. who even am i anymore? trade an actual identity for practicality. sacrilege has always been a concept so foreign to many. like spellbooks yellowed with centuries of age slipped into a paper shredder, all modern and sleek. but to be in a country still shadowed by statues of wooden saints and adorned with the daintiest rosaries... values always observed for the purpose of obtaining a one-way ticket to heaven. and to disrupt the status quo my family has had in mind for my life... the exact path of the steps they want me to take permanently marked in my memory... it suddenly seems impractical. and stupid. and unnecessary... to live my truth. going against it seems so futile now, like it's not worth the fight, knowing i can stand to masquerade around and enjoy being in the romantic company of a man anyway. because what if attention's all that i crave? being with someone i'd truly pour all my affections over, except i'd probably have to face harm in return... i'd go to lengths to keep my family happy... and if living a lie for eternity is what has to happen, then so be it -- i think i'm ready. i don't know... i can't write properly... can't think properly. can only ramble and hope for the best. must be so funny for the white lgbtq+ community to say they're illegal in so many countries when i have to warp my reality around being so.   0 Comments

10/24/2021 03:29 AM  10-24-21, 03:29AM others have butterflies that flutter inside their stomachs. the insides of their bodies are tickled with the thin tips of their wings and emotions spring out from the unfamiliar sensation gnawing at their very core. i have moths in my heart, all forcing themselves inside and leaving no room. wings similar to feathers, dusty and mildewed and too big to fit inside the fist-sized organ. they flutter about and they never leave. it's not that anyone has put them inside of me. i welcome them and give them a home smaller than they deserve. it's too tight and constricting for their kind and yet they make do with the space. and i like them in there. because i've grown accustomed to having them in there. emotions have never been so tangled up and knotty like the first few attempts at tying a noose. attraction is so complicated. it's like the product of a threesome of mazes and hieroglyphics and morse code. not liking men is such a linear statement, a compact and concise idea. something society has watered down and simplified for years. heteronormativity is drilled into my brain and hung on its frontal lobe with tightly screwed bolts. every fragmented whisper and hushed giggle forced into the inside of my mind like there are three seconds left to fill it before it overloads and the bomb is set off. it'll never work! electric plugs and sockets fit together and so do keyholes and keys and every other euphemism by the sex-crazed sick f***s who base every single idea on penises and vaginas fitting each other like puzzle pieces... liking people who are not men. seems easy enough for me. and not for everyone else who is like me because for them it is the equivalent of the antichrist. of bloody eyes and reversed words falling out of my tongue like the regrets i've thrown up these past few years. it's demonic and mentally unwell and if anyone else ever finds out i will suddenly grow a pair of tough red horns and have a blood-red trident permanently glued in the palm of my left hand. and so i remedy it with male attention to feel sane and calm and serene and normal. and it's not normal. the moths knock from the inside of my heart and i have to swallow the shock whole. big gasps of air become stuck in my throat and my heart beats as if it'll never get the chance ever again. everyone made it seem so easy. why is saying words you'll never mean and typing out the most basic sweet nothings so hard?  maybe if... it was anyone else but a man?  and i guess i will repeat the cycle once again until i am tired and scared and rushing to get my head above the water. except i will continue to drown and let the weight of my clothes pull me back down and flail my arms around helplessly until grooves and lines are embedded on the surface of my skin. and i will swim until i breathe and taste nothing but the salty ocean air that burns my tastebuds and fills my lungs to the brim. and i will not float. unlike everyone else.   0 Comments

10/19/2021 02:32 AM  10-19-21, 02:32 AM omegle....... they're there for the show, i'm there for the opening act. lips tightly pressed until small talk commences. i like it when the curtains open. they like audience participation. i don't, so i give my all into the mindless conversation as it's all i'm really there for. passing the time. thinking about what it's like on the other side of the earth. feeble desperation from whoever the f*** it is, lust dominating all senses and hotwiring all control over basic human decency. i'm dehumanized, objectified, used, and disregarded - give me all your male attention! hidden in a shroud of anonymity that fuels and jumpstarts courage and makes my hands spell out the most nonchalant coy words onscreen. i'm reduced to an asian slut, a whore with baby bottle red lips for baby bottle tipped d*cks. three-dimensionally, it's another pair of legs threatening to intertwine with mine. an unknown man drunk on the thrill and the gap between our years spent circling the planet. i'm only there for the rush. the slight boost, the energy that rushes up my veins and leaves quicker than the speed of light. the appreciation and the dehumanization and the empty praises to my physical appearance that i know are submerged in salaciousness and nothing more. so maybe i'm still capable of participating and confining to the needs of a patriarchal society. i tease and test my limits and it still feels hollow. there is no rush, there is no excitement, only guilt and regrets of f***f***f***f***f*** i f***ing hate d*ck! i dig at the bottom of the barrel and scrape until its grooves are clean and the remnants of its contents are with me and do it out of genuine enthusiasm and not desperation. nothing's there still. my heart is as hollow as my bones and my throat is drier than the worst dry spell at the sahara desert. i'm tired. comphet has made me live a living hell. 0 Comments

10/16/2021 01:13 AM  10-16-21 01:13AM i am the metronome always one beat off, seeming like i've got it until i don't. stare, focus, and gaze intently. you'll miss it. blink and you'll hear slivers of slurred speech, rough and haunting and sharp, but never clear enough to be made out. and it's not like anyone would want to listen to the tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock pounding inside my head threatening to be let out and released through discreet fury. there are many who beat in the same way i do. 0 Comments

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