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[curlyalien-blog2]

I watch porn and masturbate when all I want is to be tenderly kissed and lovingly held.

~C.Alien~

[curlyalien-blog2]

Tell me, do you ever get in the shower, turn the water on as hot as tolerable, only to close your eyes and imagine that the warmth you’re feeling is from the embrace  of another human being...?

~C. Alien~

[curlyalien-blog2]

Tell me, have you ever felt the crippling wave of loneliness that arrives after you climax, alone, in your room...?

~C. Alien~

[curlyalien-blog2]

If you need to hear this,

I can’t tell you how or why it would be different with other people, but it will, if you let it. At one point not too long ago I had lost all hope of letting someone get close to me or of ever getting close to someone again.

This led me to do things subconsciously to push new people away, I would find the smallest things to write them off as the rest. I closed myself, much like you do, it sounds like. This went on for a long time until the summer before my senior year of college.

I allowed myself to have a new experience (like I suggest you do). Through that I met a group of people. They were wonderful, but I wouldn’t get close to them because I had it in my mind that they too would leave me or hurt me or let me down. 

However, although it wasn’t easy, having gone through that new experience together and realizing my own self sabotaging behavior of pushing people away, slowly but surely they made me see that if I was willing to put int the work, they would put in their efforts too.

This isn’t an overnight switch. It took a lot of me to trust people again and to be open, I still struggle with it. Even so, I try my best. Slowly, I’ve realized that they are not perfect and most importantly, neither am I. So, I am forgiving of people and of me. Now, I consciously try to open to life as much as I can. I still have a long way to go but I’m excited. I hope that soon you can feel this way too.

 Ours,

    C. Alien 

[curlyalien-blog2]

Alright interpret this:

My story is, every time I make a close friend, I end up losing them in some way. Every time I find someone to look up to, they go away. So, why would it be any different any other time? 

[curlyalien-blog2]

We all shit.

Funny how you try to shame me for my acceptance of people. Yes, that includes people that shit a lot, because guess what? We all shit.

                                                                              ~Curly Alien

[curlyalien-blog2]

I don’t really want to die...

...I just want the pain to go away. 

I don’t really want to die...

...I just want to quiet the voices in my head.

I don’t really want to die...

...I just want to stop feeling this way.

[curlyalien-blog2]

Dear A.D,

I think about death a lot...

I’m sure everyone else does too, but ever since I was a little kid I’ve thought about it too much.

I’m afraid that those closest to me are going to die and no one will ever love me as deeply and unconditionally as they do.

Yet, most days I feel suffocated by them and I take it for granted. I Just don’t want to wake up one day and realize how good I had it once it is no longer there. It’s one of my biggest fears. A.D...do you ever feel this way?

                                                           A hundred million kisses, 

                                                                                      -Mema

[curlyalien-blog2]

...life teaches you really how to live, if you could live long enough...

Tony Bennett, AMY ( 2015 doc) (2:02:17)

[curlyalien-blog2]

Dear Mema,

Today was a long day, well, not really. We slept for most of it. I truly dislike it when we do that. Why do we do that?

One hundred billion kisses,

AD

[curlyalien-blog2]

Because you could.

You battered me with words that hit harder than any fist of punch I could have ever been the recipient of.

And even though I’ve moved on, the imprints of those bruises have yet still to leave my soul.

                                          ~Aloft Daydreamer

[curlyalien-blog2]

We can't wait until the world is 'ready' for us. We need to go out there and make stuff happen for ourselves. The world will eventually follow

Aloft Daydreamer

[curlyalien-blog2]

I crave a passion

I want to have a craft, I want to have an art. I want to have a purpose, something to do in life.

I want to wake up in the morning, thinking “what will I make today?” Something created by my hands, something that is born from the depths of my inner self.

I want people to see it and know that it is me. So that I have poured so much of myself into it that my presence gets to linger.

I want to create but I don’t know what.                                                                    I want to form but I don’t know how.                                                                        I what to bring to life and although I know the why, I fail to know the when.

                              ~Aloft Daydreamer

[curlyalien-blog2]

I know                                            (2/2)

I know...I’ve been there...but, you see, what matters is how YOU see the world and not how the world sees you.

I know that each day that you open yours eyes and you feel your chest rise is another battle that you have won. It should be celebrated.

I know that life is hard but oh God, it is so beautiful too.

I know that you don’t believe when people say that things will get better. I doubted it many times myself; but oh boy, they do.

I know that you feel like you’re falling down, but you will be there to catch yourself.

But most important, I know that this might not make sense to you now but trust me, one day it will, and I know you would love to be there to see it.

I know, because I am you.

                                                      ~Aloft Daydreamer

[curlyalien-blog2]

I know                                             (1/2)

I know this world has hurt you, because it has hurt me too.

I know that people have come and brought light only to tease you, leave, and take it with them.

I know your heart has been broken and each time a piece has been lost so you don’t know if you could ever be whole again.

I know your eyes have let storms fall down; they create rivers too well known to your cheeks. 

I know about the times were your throat closes up and your body becomes void. Somehow you’re alive and breathing but nothing feels like it’s there.

I know you get caught up in the tornado of thoughts and memories and all you can do is wait it out.

I know that you should be your shelter but sometimes you are the storm itself.

                                                                                   ~Aloft Daydreamer

[curlyalien-blog2]

The Creature

       An imposing sight stood before me. Its hair swaying in the wind like the fronds of palm trees fazed by the power of a hurricane. 

       It looked at me with eyes of defeat and at that moment I finally understood that the powerful creature that used to freeze my soul in place, is the very same one pleading for its life right before me. I feel nothing...for so long I layed awake in bed, playing scenarios in my head in which I was no longer afraid; in which I finally stood up to this very monster before me...and yet I still feel nothing. 

     The triumphant victory that I longed and prayed for has turned into the biggest disappointment that I’ve ever had to come to terms with. I lift up my right hand and with the flex of what has to be the weakest muscle in my body, the palm tree slumbers at the mercy of the wind.

                                                                            ~Aloft Daydreamer

[curlyalien-blog2]

The Old Man

      You come up to the door, it looks steady but worn out. At the bottom, there appears to be scratches made by a small animal. However, the scratches are not threatening. They seem to have been made out of nervousness. 

     Behind the door is an old man, sleeping. He always seems to take an afternoon nap. The Old Man, specially needs it now, for his right knee, out of all of his body aches, has been bothering him significantly. He once was a very strong and active man. Traces of that remain today but they sometimes appear to be ghosts of what they were before. 

    The room he is sleeping is not particularly special. White walls, bed facing east, The Old Man’s head laying on a pillow westbound. There is a dresser, also white, filled with things that are not meant for him to use. The door is closed to keep the cool air of a small, square,loud but great functioning AC from coming out. Which was installed on one of the bedrooms windows by The Old Man himself. Sometimes I want to check in on him, for the door is rarely locked...but if I don’t find him, was he ever really there?

                                                                          ~Aloft Daydreamer