#pocket diary

[velvetporcelain]

everyday I wake up and smoke my silly little cigarette while god eats my heart like a pomegranate in front of me.

-x

[velvetporcelain]

if i am not this transparent then i don’t want it.

-x

[velvetporcelain]

space cowgirl ✨

today i was able to ignore the things that haunt me.

i swear sadness is a possession of the past.

maybe today i was able to give myself the attention i needed. still absent from the virtual cult, still scrubbing my mind , still undoing what does not serve me.

i still want to step on your heart and what the flames die out— like a lit cigarette that is no longer wanted. careless and cruel— but no longer dangerous.

bought more canvases to vomit my soul onto. — my soul is worn out but not dead.

endurance makes the devil’s eyes wider than normal and i notice.

still thinking about your stupid fucking face. that fucking face. sometimes i drink the poison when i am bored, sometimes it is forced fed to me. addiction goes deeper than the surface of the water, its anchored with no trace of a source.

shit, here i go. —- i will be back my love. — after i have opened my mind without hurricane force winds coming from the opening. we ain’t in Kansas anymore.

-x

[velvetporcelain]

in todays news. the only thing that’s real are humans.

[velvetporcelain]

dearest lover,

it’s a good day.

please allow me to grace you with limitless conversation, thought, rabbit holes—— lucky you.

sometimes???

i think-

NOTHING MATTERS

none of it

So why am I holding on to it so tight?

fuck it ! Become a translucent being where every experience flows right through you.

emotions are the devil. no doubt.

I swear I don’t worship him 😌😹— for real — I have a good connection to a power higher than myself.

but the key to life is to also have a good relationship with the devil.

-x

[velvetporcelain]

dead man’s blues

hello lover — nothing new here with me except the way i experience the same things everyday. I want to sleep in my bed with the window open- listening to the things i never get to hear — god created a creature capable of thoughts, dreams, consciousness and it became a monster that he left in a jar.

i miss you in a way that doesn’t really hurt anymore. i think of you and i can only mutter the words FUCK YOU. — and that means i am in the perfect position to say so — i attach myself to nothing and i have you to thank for that, but I don’t want to give you too much credit because you were only the push I needed, I taught myself how to apply it.

i would like to stay away forever this time. i have worked too hard to get here and i still have work to do to get to wherever it is i am going- i am not really sure what that is but i continue to flip back and forth between feeling everything and then feeling nothing. feeling nothing seems much like peace but i think its a placebo.

nothing can satisfy the desire of a thinking animal, he will eat his way through every pleasure- ignoring the repercussions of collateral damage. By then, it is too late to really fix anything and that’s when the seven stages of grieve set in— and we weren’t taught how to navigate through them— we skipped those steps by calling everyone sensitive and sent them to therapy. my views of the world continue to reflect in the way I present myself to the world— intense, passionate, consuming, sharp, and artistic. — but never would i choose the word beautiful.

-x

[velvetporcelain]

hope these help. ✨

-x

[deardigitaldumpinground]

collaged notebook covers, by me :)

collage composed of photos i found at a second hand craft store, and magazine clippings :)