How is it so simple for most people?

How do they not feel like they're constantly

drowning in everything they feel?

Am I just a shitty swimmer?

Toss me a life-jacket already, 

everything's too heavy.

I'm tired of swimming.

L.

"How can I be better?" 

I asked you, this tiny teen with dorky smile

You looked away from us

and stared at the parking lot.

"Be more you,

Less sad you,

We all love you."

I made all of you take turns

thinking you would destroy me.

Teenagers are honest about their opinions

on other people.

Almost always.

Be more you

Less sad you

We all love you.

You didn't destroy me,

you scotch-taped me together.

Thank you.

L.

"It" constantly gets to me. By "it" I mean everything. This eternal and non-stopping circle of stuff that doesn't take breaks from happening. Sometimes I need my breaks but when I take them, "it" rushes past me and I can't help feeling left behind.

Weird, huh? How some people manage life with such inspiring and graceful ease, and here I am, suffocated by all the happenings and passings and stressing out by the thought of not ever being able to catch up.

My therapist says I've got a lot on my plate and that my constant worries are understandable and even "natural" but others seem to be in an all-you-can-eat buffet of "it" and plating up spoonful after spoonful of that sticky and gooey mix of "it" and enjoying it like it was a delicious piece of cake while I drown on my quarter cup of "it".

And of course, my mother -oh, sweet mother- obviously nagged me for being dramatic and emphasized how I've got it so much better than African kids... and this made my feeling worse, because on the side of my suffocation and panic about the future, I also get to feel ungrateful and selfish... Ahh, how refreshing!

So life's been good, anxiety has been better and my will to live is out the window (heh). Anyway... Some poetry has been written. I'll share soon.

-L.

i am starting to 

B

    R

       E

          A

              K

again and i don't know how to stop it

between my insignificant paycheck

my lack of talent

my mental issues

and my xXxXxXxXxXx i just don't 

K 

    N 

        O 

          W

how to handle my shit

Loretta

has

ruined

life

O

     N

         C

             E

M

     O

         R

             E

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXstop it.

Todos revientan diferente. Casi todos revientan como truenos: ruidosos, violentos, brillantes y lejanos.

Yo exploto como las nubes que se acumulan por gotitas.

 Nubes chiquitas, blancas, no de las grises que dan miedo. Me voy llenando de gotitas que evaporan los días, los ratos, los rayos que casi nadie notó pero que yo conté aunque no quisiera.

 Luego son muchas gotitas y mi nube pesa más y más, la aprieto yo sola y la nube se me escapa entre las manos, entre los dedos, entre las cortadas de papel en los nudillos. 

Y luego llueve y lluevo yo con ella.

Y soy lluvia 

y soy agua 

y caigo 

y ya no soy nada.

Era, fui y ya no soy.

Porque las nubes como yo sólo existimos a ratitos.

Existimos cuando estamos lloviendo; no cuando nos estamos formando.

No existimos, no somos. No tocamos.

Venimos explotando y nos vamos.

Ya no servimos para tapar el sol ni para apaciguar los rayos que te queman la cara.

No quedamos, vaya, más que para quitarle el calor a los perritos callejeros y que la tierra huela.

Así somos las personas nube, las que explotamos quedito y sólo para nosotras. Las que no somos ni grises.

Nos duele más que lo que dolemos y callamos más que lo que ayudamos. 

Ahí voy, rodando por la ventana de la sala y mojando tu sillón si quedó abierta. Ni siquiera lluevo tan fuerte como para ahorrarte la salida de la mañana. Soy las chispitas enfadosas para las que te arrepientes de haber sacado el paraguas.

Mojatontos. Chingaquedito.

La lluvia engañosa de la que te enamoraste.

Y que le duele lloverte encima.

—Loretta.

I'm pretending I don't care.

I'm being told that it shouldn't be that big of a deal, but somehow, it is. I keep hearing it and I keep making up the worst in my head and I'm really not prepared to let myself fall that hard.

It's all about the promises and those acts of faith, right?

Not so tight.

Because I have known you for enough time to know exactly when you're lying to my face, and I know myself well enough to know that I could keep swallowing lies until I drown on them.

And yet, I still trust you.

I don't know if I trust myself.

But it's better than the alternative.

Or so I'm pretending.

Today I woke up in a new bed. In a new house. Once again.

How many times I've moved and changed abruptly, out of the blue, all of a sudden? Too many. 

But you know, this is for the best. And today as I woke up, I loved it. I felt this new bedsheets on top of me, rolled over and didn't feel the chills that change always brought. I turned, stared at the ceiling and felt safe. Calm. Better.

(This is a great thing to feel when you don't have cooking gas, internet and are $4,000 dollars in debt for a year and a half.)

And so I have a new place with my SO and my pair of kittens. And a huge debt. Heh. I'm all smiles and happiness, tho.