I live in a land of dreams, my body.

Am I a woman? At least I have the form and lines of a woman. And the inclination to enjoy it.

I don't know what it is to be a woman, unless from the desire I have of men and the pleasure I myself enjoy of being a woman like any other... me, the spouse of this woman, this other me, the one whose image appears in the mirror; this woman who, every morning I dress in underwear and clothes that make me want to undress again- and whom every night I lay down, naked, in a bed of love.

Eyes closed, lying naked in the black of the night, I see myself, bright and quivering, in the core of my shell. My flesh is an oyster shell... soft, pearly... tightly closed yet knowing how to open up with the slowness of a rose to allow the salt of the world to enter me. Eyes closed, alone in my bed at night, I touch my smooth flesh; I walk along the paths laid out for me, I climb myself, I penetrate myself. I take fruit from my bushes, return to the light, undertake a journey of exploration. My landscapes delight me. it's fall, no, it's already winter. A cold chill kisses my bones. In ecstasy, the first snow creates a path for me. I'll follow you, until my fingers can no longer feel the velvet softness of my thighs, again... the skin of my exhausted body...

she screams ever so silently

Ah, it's been such a cloudy foggy day today. Maybe just as foggy as my clouded mind and as much of a blurr as these photographs. There is something very beautiful about a polaroid. The immediacy... The intimacy. The sense of timelessness, so caught in the moment that these simple white borders bring. I squint just to see the clearer picture.. to experience the bigger picture. A little open window it seems. As if I didn't sense a camera there.

The blurr... the age of an image. Nothing is forever they say. It is not true. Maybe a popularized myth. Everything is forever. A picture is a thousand words. A thousand words that is forever for thousand years to come. I share with you the past. The present is not something I can hold tightly onto. It slips my fingertips every time. You can always turn around and trace the footsteps you once took. The past is the only perfect reflection of the present.

I stare into the eyes of my past. So black and white. Unclear, yet I can still feel the exact thoughts and emotions that ran through me at that exact moment. Simply beautiful... Just how a photograph scream something ever so silently. The art... the expression... the magic... is held only within your eyes, and within your mind.

"The best part about a picture is that it never changes, even when the people in it do."- Andy Warhol

It happens in her head

That's where she goes to find the subtle answer to the riddle. It doesn't render fully... She's grabbing tightly to your every word, trying hard to understand as you try to speak. She feels you, she looks ahead, trying to find you, trying closely to see you, she reaches out to touch you just to feel cold glass against her fingertips. Life is the riddle. She loses touch, she gives up on you, and she's as good as dead.

You're dead, useless... I now must escape far from this world, and build my own. I will interpret what my reality is, and stay there forever. What's real, whats not is not fixed for some thing to decide. The world is not black nor white. I am not good, nor evil. It's now my own. I desire to invent my own purpose. I desire to chase it. I desire to fulfill a dream or to live in a dream.

 

I die, and everything goes blank. I do not want to die, knowing I had not lived.


 -

her body was free

 

I'm living life on the fast lane. The sun is up early. My eyes are barely open and I can hardly see. Everything is a blur, but I have to go. I have to go now, because the world will not slow it's pace just for me. I can't see, how can I make sense of things? How can I take on a world that's bigger and more alive than me, blind?

I intend to make peace with my body and soul. I am wild at heart. I can run with the world.

Look at me. I am as naked as the palm of my hands.

I love you, my little woman, my vulnerable, my broken one. I live in your body, in your soul you've given to me. I see you in the reflection of myself.

This woman who every morning, I dress in underwear and clothes, to undress to dress again- and whom every night I lay down naked in a land of dreams. I am inside of you, sometimes I escape. I give to you others. You enjoy others as much as I enjoy you. Pleasure is what you want, I will caress you.

I love you, and you give to me, your feminine self, and your smooth skin. All I do is love you, and you give me the eyes, to let me see and capture the world in front of me. You give me your pumping heart, I give to you words, to speak and express. I know these things well, I give them all to you.

All the world loves you... They recognize what's tempting. The world sees what is provocative about you. The whole world loves women. Including women who, on the street, look at one another more than they look at men; and who read magazines full of images of women. Including men who love men, who frequently develop the ultimate realms of femininity. The whole world loves women so much that the whole world hates them for concealing themselves, for never being exactly where the world wants them to be. You all desire, fear, adore and hate women. Hate created hateful words like whore and slut which is thrown around with no real definition at all. Hate driven by ignorance. Created by men, driven by women. You hate what you desire. You view me as an object. Therefore you steal with your eyes and your ignorant mind.


In capturing myself in front of my lens, I find myself hiding in front of my own expressions... A photo expressing myself in a vulnerable completely bare state is an abduction if seen by the wrong eyes. A photo can make me purely objective to people who can view me and call me a whore. I am not hiding from myself I hide from the eyes whose stolen, and waiting to steal from me. I walk the world with ideas and rules already set by others, and I comply to them. To protect myself from the hate and ignorance. I can not express freely. You hate when I hide, you hate when I don't. You might be beautiful in many ways, but I despise you for your hate, for your ignorance. I hide from your eyes whose stolen from me and hurt me but you will not take away what is mine. I am mine.

A Sad Reminder.

Hey guys. I know I haven't been writing lately, and it doesn't help that I haven't been on since Friday. I always want to be honest with you guys, especially with how I am feeling and doing.  But I have been feeling terrible lately and I can not bare turning my blog into a depressing place to visit for you guys. And so I have been holding on from writing until I started feeling a little better. I didn't want to affect anyone in a negative way. I wanted to reach out and touch someone, relate with you all as human beings, or put a smile on someone's face. Beyond the person you see behind a camera, and as much as you can read off of who I am visually, there's a lot you can not see. I appreciate your love and support. I want to share to you all who I am. I am human, you are human. I am more than just a face.

While I was hesitating on writing a blog that ran strictly on my emotions, in fear of turning this place depressing, I began to remember that this blog was originally created as just that- my outlet. I've welcomed you all to come in and take a look at my life and the emotions running within me. And you all came in to see the unveiled side of me. Bad or good, I know you guys will accept me. But as much as I have been going through, and as much as I want to avoid writing another sad blog, I want to just as much relate with you all. I am human. Going through tough times is part of living. The pain I feel inside reminds me I am alive. There is a lot trapped and dieing to come out. I feel it. It's all there. Today will not be another sad blog. Today is about you guys. About how I feel about you. It is about living. And the constant reminder of being alive, of being human, and of being just like you.

I appreciate the time you've spent on this page, in my room, in my head, and in my heart. I want to thank you guys so much. I remember the support I have received from you guys. You guys keep me up. You've reminded me I am not alone. Thank you for following my blog. Thank you for caring about me or simply finding me interesting. You... reading this right now. Thank you...

-I will be back soon. I promise, and I have yet to break a promise with you guys. I've missed you all. I am trying to be stronger, and to get myself back on my feet, with open arms and a open heart for you guys. I am sick of feeling sick to my stomach. It must end now.

I hide in the dark to lose sight and I switched off the remaining light within.

A lot has been going on. Things that are better left untold. This is beyond climbing a steep rocky mountain just to get on top. I am fearless, I can bruise and bleed for my wishes and dreams. What is surface pain when there are things deep in the core within you screaming to be satisfied? To what extent do you go? Will you leave everything you have? Will you sacrifice? Will you kill?

A part of me just died tonight. I had something.... in a blink of an eye it will leave me forever. I want to tell you so much. I want to say I'm sorry. And I love you... and I know it's not fair... It's not fair at all how easy it was to kill you inside. My heart once beated for you. Now here I am again, walking this big world solo... Doing everything for my own dreams and goals... Not a care in the world about who you are, because I'm fearless.... right?

A Frozen Polaroid...

  I found starting a blog much like a polaroid. Frozen in a press of a button and then shared with others.

Although I find it easier to express my thoughts and emotions better through my visions, I am here to share myself in words. I was never a strong writer. As a child I had a hard time allowing people to understand my emotions. I hardly understood it myself. But I drew, with a strong grip, and a heavy hand. With dark colors, and heavy shadows. It was not an art to me, it was an outlet. I was not looking to create something beautiful, I was looking to scream, from my soul, inside out. I wanted someone to hear me. I wanted to be understood.

Even till this day, I sometimes feel telling someone I am sad or happy is not as powerful as the brightest smile, or the darkest cloud. But I am here because I have a mind I barely have control over.
Our mind runs as constant as the world spins. We age steadily until our last breath. I want more opportunities to freeze things. To remember, to reflect, to really understand myself and to share it all with you. I express through frozen interpretations, I speak visually, and I am here to share both the simple things in my life that can not be captured, but only spoken of, and moments in my life I can only speak of through captured visuals.

I have never told anyone this, but one of my biggest life fears is to drift away from who I am without noticing. If it is just me, than what happened to youth as a definition of a free spirit, of every day as a new beginning and a imagination with no limits? Is it just something you lose grip of as an individual or is it happening to generations and  the world as a whole? With a constant moving world, I fear losing things. But I feel a lot is being lost. I want to freeze the "now" before it becomes what "used to be". I don't always have control in how I am influenced in my surroundings. Isn't it funny how as humans what's gone becomes important, but whats right in front of us is overlooked?

Let's freeze a moment in time. Let's freeze now.