Writing is an expressive outlet.

You can use many, or a few words, to let out what you feel, think, belief and so on. I tend to start and go on and on until I feel my fingers cramp up. Sometimes if the thought process is good there will be pages and pages and a few sketches too, just to tie together the story.

Sometimes I write when I want to avoid hurting someone's feelings in telling them how much of a jerk they are, Griselda, but you know... I guess I am just selfish because I am leaving myself with the benefit of the doubt on what would have happened if I told her off.

Anyway, sometimes it is embarrassing stories that I want to remember when I get older and need something to laugh about. Hey, we all get to laugh at our own misery.

Along with embarrassing moments come those that you really don't want to forget, like when your love bug bought two king-size Kit Kat bars, and you ended up trying to be cute and giving him a piece with your mouth and ended up eating his chocolate because you are a chocoholic.

Writing can be ANYTHING you want, and make it work for you!

Either you decide to write the 'average Joe' way,

THE ALL CAPS WAY,

no caps,

MiX bEtWeEn ThEm,

O r e v e n w i t h s o m e s p a c e s ?

WHO CARES, am I right?

Sorry for being gone so long, I was just binging on shows and whatnot. BUT hey, maybe nobody noticed?

If only we could freeze those 'worth it' moments, not just in our memories, but relive them instantly.

The things that are worth striving for, in my eyes, are the laughter and chatter between the one I love. Touching the same person every day, not just sexually. Being able to notice first-hand small changes; Changes on his hands, rough from work. The random gifts of yellow roses (which he knows are my favorite). The constant words from his lips,"I love you." Who knew that at an age so young, I would be this madly in love.

My eyes glistened as I saw his smile, that he so bashfully tried to hide.

The Florida nights we lay hugging as we listened to the rain drip and drop.

So many wonderful memories, all short lived.

California calls me back to educate myself (the struggles of a first-generation college student) and to use the distance to test the resilience of my love, for us, once again. Time seems to move too slow, and I always complain about how I am growing up too fast. Although, if time moved fast I would be with him and having a blast.

Bags are a nice glam touch, except for those under your eyes.

Learning is great, except for having to be in debt in order to afford it.

Staring at this computer screen there are thousands of thoughts that cannot keep up with the speed of my finger tips.

I see my young brother, age six, enjoying a body slam around the couch cushions.

At this moment I wish I was a kid again, only worry about touching the hot lava.

This moment is one where I say goodnight to all the stress and join in on a pillow fight.

Have a blessed night!

Hello there,

You may have heard the term "adulting".

The time in which a teenager must become a successful adult.

It is a transition in life where responsibilities are jam packed

and decisions must be made in order to survive within the world's new set rules or constructs.

I for one, am a 19-year-old that is heading toward their third year of college.

Shamefully, I admit that I cannot adult.

I hate it.

I know I am not the only one who feels this way as there are many others that have posted various memes on FaceBook or Instagram on how they cannot adult.

Maybe it's a generational thing, who knows?

Getting a job, driving, getting passing scores and multitasking has been increased ten fold when increasing with age. 

I remember as a kid when the adults around me would say to enjoy my childhood when I wanted to grow up and now, I understand what they meant. 

It is what it is.

Filled with glee I am at being back.

A place where mom and brother are watching for me.  

Loving and laughing ,

What a beautiful sight to see.

So close to finishing college,

I am still dumbfounded !

I can't believe all I missed ,

everyone is working so hard and now fillany fill with bliss.

The relaxation of coming back after finals.

Such a great feeling , all seems like a dream ! 

Super excited , now time to clean ...

Pass me a tissue please,

I have to sneeze.

Great, now my eyes are tearing up.

I hate being sick.

The times I took for granted the ability to breathe.

The ability to smell.

The sweet aroma.

Luckily, 

I have flowers to smell candy.

Sadly, my nose tears were drapey.

They say it's not nice to yell or scream.

It all seems like an awful dream.

They found you dead.

And she was the one who planned it all along.

Away I was from you,

The day Rosa poisoned you.

Rosa never seemed beautiful to me, all I saw were her thorns.

You seemed to like her because with her you were never bored.

She seemed upset knowing that many women found you appealing.

I felt her spread a hateful feeling.

Little did anyone know what rat poison she was looking for...

I can't even remember the last time I saw you leave the front door.

My aunt, who gives no fucks, called me to share the news.

I cried.

I knew.

That bitch had done something to you.

I heard the pain as your sister, my godmother, phoned me a couple days later.

She explained what happened to you.

With dread, I heard all the nightmare-like things she said.

The crooked cops, Rosa's uncle, covered her malignant act.

I wish I could give her a taste worse than death, but you wouldn't want me to be like her.

Filled with evil and no regret.

I'll let God do his work instead.

I know you wouldn't want me to get revenge.

You were always so kind hearted.

I grief, still to this day.

I miss you, it was too soon when you parted...

I wonder what it would be to not do many of the typical things.

A life that is less spontaneous,

less troublesome,

less negative.

"Less is more."

I dream of no worries,

Food always on my plate,

Music playing every step I take.

No illness ,

No sadness,

No anger.

A life filled with aspirations,

Love. And wonderful creations.

Instead of multiple school papers ,

Why not a multitude of flowers ?

No allergies , just flower bracelets/necklaces and crowns.

You my brother,

No need of blood bonds.

A home of mud, or even a pie.

Endless night skies way up high.

No taxes , no bills , no debt.

Fun days , a simple life;

One that I wish I would get.

Roses are red,

I don't want to leave my bed.

Violets are blue,

hey, my bruises too.

Roses are red,

Mom and step-pop stare with dread,

Violets are blue,

Given the circumstances,

you would be shocked too.

Roses are red,

My heart pounds as he points to the bed.

Violets are blue,

If you were me, what would you do?

Roses are red,

They say you should of fled.

Violets are blue,

He ran after me and I hid.

Roses are red,

He said I don’t have any diseases or on meds.

Violets are blue,

He was twelve times two.

Roses are red.

I showered and changed and shook in bed.

Violets are blue,

My life was fucked up and nobody knew.