I'm a lover.

"Never sacrificing substance for style, but stylish with a golden type smile."

[tglngl]

I just want flowers.

[tglngl]

I don't get to exist in your world if it's not convenient for you.

[tglngl]

Did I make the right decision? -_-

[evenfairiesdrink]

You make me feel for you!

[tglngl]

2016 started off so shitty for me. Health-wise, social-wise, career-wise, relationship-wise. I was so sure that’d this would be my year but by January 5th I was ready for the next 361 days to be an absolute shit-show. I spent my birthday alone. I was talked about, shamed, cheated on, my character was called into question. I closed everyone off. Then one day I said “fuck it!” and moved on. There’s such a liberating feeling that comes with sincerely not giving a fuck...you start translating that effort into things you know deserve it. Yourself. 

Then I got sick in February. I kept getting sick into March. I kept taking my body to the limit, traveling, festivals, raves. I ran my body ragged and the effort and care I had taken at the beginning of the year was all in vain.

A month ago I wasn’t really sure what I would be doing with my life. Then I was thrown a curveball and told I had to get surgery and I’d be out for awhile and basically one of my favorite assets would be out of commission, my voice. You take these things, like your voice or your energy to do day to day activities, for granted all the time. 

In the past 24 hours I scheduled my surgery and I got offered another job after turning down a position two weeks ago. And just like that a lot of anxiety and stress went away. 

I woke up this morning very grateful to wake up. In two weeks, my opinion might change but I know this is just another obstacle I need to get over. 

2016 you’re a fucking trip.

fasho.

/endrant. 

//also side note: stop shaming women. just stop. don’t tell me to smile. I’ll smile when i g’damn please. i’m not smirking for attention -i have braces. i’ll post my body on my snapchat or wherever the fuck i want. i own my body. i love my body. i earned my damn body. you feeling some type of way negatively towards my posts shows me how you feel about yourself. that you are uncomfortable with yourself and you want to project those thoughts onto me. at the end of the day I feel no shame towards what God has given me and what I have earned along the way. i hope you find the same comfort when you look in the mirror. 

[tglngl]

Sometimes, I wake up and I don’t feel like myself. As if overnight I lost my personality. And throughout the day I’m just trying to regain consciousness. The hour it takes me to wake up, I’m grasping reality. The next twelve hours proves to be trying and I just go back to sleep hoping I’ll find myself the next day. I’ll try again tomorrow.

[tglngl]

lately. 

[tglngl]

Rereading old statuses and posts from the past two years in Southern California.

It’s true you don’t find happiness in other places and people. I was so wrong to think I’d find myself 500 miles from home. I stretched and exhausted my idea of comfort until I was looking in the mirror and did not recognize the hollows of a girl staring back at me. I’m still restless.

[tglngl]

The biggest lesson I've learned living with anxiety is to no longer say "I'm sorry" when someone confides in me. Replace it with "how can I help?" And see how the world opens up in your relationship.

[homertenenbaum]

SPOTTED: Frank at YEEZY SEASON 3

[ayyemorgan]

Bb

[lil-ye]

“We On An Ultralight Beam”

[bahookies]

i’m so grateful for the people who don’t give up on me and are patient with me while i’m distant and trying to figure myself out

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

To venture causes anxiety, but not to venture is to lose one’s self.

Søren Kierkegaard (via psych-facts)

[pinoy-culture]

[luckyfatima-deactivated20221113]

Pre-colonial occupation Filipino bridal outfit

[blancosueno-deactivated20140705]

see i didnt even know this 

[lublutravkuidinahui]

[tglngl]

"whatcha up to?" (read at 3:45AM)

[tglngl]

and on the night of my 26th birthday i sat in a semi empty movie theater watching sisters while simultaneously crying and laughing. everybody was busy. and then i sat by myself and cried until it hit 10PM and drove myself home and went to sleep.

nobody said life was perfect. 

i grew to hate my birthday.

[tglngl]

Where do I start...

I’m getting older and I’m realizing that a lot of me getting older is me appreciating my solitude. I don’t post, I don’t hit “like”, I don’t attend, and I don’t reblog as much as I used to. The validation I used to seek on social media is now found in a hard day’s work, in a long day coming to an end, in looking at myself in the mirror, in me doing whatever the fuck I wanted to do and being done with it. Rethinking a lot of how I’ve felt the past couple of months and not apologizing. 

Anybody close to me knows that 2015 really blew up in my face during the latter half. A lot of things happened and I couldn’t do or say anything to deter people’s feelings about me. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. And I cried, got mad, and forgave. Living unapologetically meant I can’t go back on what I’ve done and I never have to explain who I am (becoming). I felt everything in me shift and the spectrum of my emotions widened. I grew appreciative for experiencing that and I walked forward. 

Now why am I writing it here? Cause I learned that a lot of what I’m feeling and currently experience -others will/have too. It’s lovely. This big ol’ world and you can feel so happy then sad then content and you know someone else out there will/has go(ne) through it too. And I’ll read this back one day and think, fuck I’m pretty awesome to feel unapologetically. 

Also, I’m about to be 26 in 48 hours. 25 year old me was catching a flight to New York right about now. Who knows 27 year old me will be doing?

/the end. 

[tglngl]

For a while I painted a beautiful picture of us two. Day after day, layer after layer. The painting started to blur together before the brown in your hair muddled the blue skies and the yellow tint of my hair. Your black eyes smeared into your crooked mouth and drew into a long Munchian face. My brush strokes grew shorter and my dominant hand gave up before the smears turned into an abstract painting only a mother would hang on her refrigerator door. I tried so hard to find the beauty that was once there. The layers had covered the smiling pair and no amount of effort or water could uncover what once was. I tried. Maybe re-enacting the same brush strokes, manipulating the same colors, or over exaggerating the form. Nothing. Accepting the beauty of what it is now and not trying to recreate what it was before. To help cultivate the next masterpiece.