Since I promised myself that I would write more (8.19.2014)

and really, do anything everything outside work that will stimulate my creative juices, here’s a nice topic and a way to be vulnerable about my insecurities: I hate my skin.

and I don’t mean it in a light rant-y kind of way (sort of rant-y I know, but it’s a personal struggle more than just a vain shout-out-there to the void). I hate how I have bad skin genes. I don’t hate my dad for having it, but I just hate the way I have to deal with acne even though I’m already 20 and supposedly more hormonally (is that even a word) balanced. I hate how I constantly have to deal with how I look and be conscious about the different dark spots and scars that I have on my face. I hate how I put my trust on topical treatments praying to whoever is listening that they work and really lighten all those scars. (Spoiler alert: most of the time, they don’t).

It sucks because everybody else thinks they know what’s going on with my face but really (hormones (and try being emotionally unstable at that okay), stress, 6 hours of sleep, all the fucking food you all try to feed me, anxiety) everything just takes a toll on me everytime I look at myself at the mirror. 

And when guys (and by that I refer to the male specie) complain how they have a pimple…. Seriously, please give me permission to slap some dirty slippers on to your faces? 

This particular piece may be exaggerated (and really, poorly written — let’s face it) due to the face that I’m having a really really bad breakout right now, and that I may be PMS-ing.

On the bright side of life lately, I picked up a watercolor book (info, how-to, stuff kind of book) last Sunday. Damn, art books are hella expensive but I am excited to try new things —- as much things as I can —- with the little time that I have to myself everyday. (around 2-3 hours, honestly). 

Since today was my first day of actually training clients, I’m just gonna put it out there, I’M SOOOO TIIIRRREEEEED.

"MAMATAY KA SANA"

Wow mister thank you for reading my mind and shouting it in the middle of C5!!!! Thank you for bringing me back to the night I hit that road sign wishing I just died that night. It’s just Monday 7 am and I wanna give up.

Ps. My foot slipped on the break that’s why I had to swerve and “overtake.” THANK YOU FOR UNDERSTANDING!!!!

Why am I crying again. Like I don’t want to talk about it cause I don’t know what it is but it would be nice if somebody would be there when I cry

You know why the saddest people are deemed to be the happiest ones?

It’s hard to explain to people why you’re sad. You’re sad for things you yourself can’t explain, can’t pinpoint. Sometimes you get angrier at yourself for being being to fix things. Your emotions become so much more of a nuisance when people expect you to answer why you’re so sad, and they get disappointed everytime you shrug their “care” or curiosity off. It’s not like it was your choice to not know why you’re so down.

So what do you do? You shut the fuck up and smile the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. Be happy that for a while you believe it too.