Mania

But it matters, and it surprises me that it does.

Inane or Insane: Who Can Really Say

17 day famine. It has eaten its way out of me. Are you pleased? It is pleased.

Scream Victim

I like myself better than I once was. Most of all, I like getting the chance to act like the bitch I really am sometimes.

Volume I - Number 2

My name is Emi. However after years of interacting with hakujins, the white folks, I have gotten use to the common mistake of being called Amy. I don't really mind. I like to think of myself as two separate people. I am Emi, undesired Janglish speaking daughter. I am also Amy, unremarkable daughter of a Japanese farmer. I like to have options.

I do not feel typical Japanese. Or maybe I'm just not typically pretty. I have a darker skin-tone that would put my ancestors to shame. A couple of summers ago, I was trying to refrain from getting too tan. I walked about with an old paper parasol and frequently hid beneath any branch that offered shade. Father was not pleased and shouted, "Care about the farm, not your face." I was instantly ashamed of myself and since then, I have accepted that every summer I will become very dark from the day's work in the fields.

I have a frizzy quality to my hair that is not silky or attractive at all. When I move to brush my fingers through it, I encounter a snaggle of hair right away.

It looks as though instead of being snuggled up within my mother's womb, I was unceremoniously thrust face-first into the side of it for the duration of her pregnancy. My nose is the main basis of this theory. It's believable that it was smashed against an unforgiving surface for nine months. Subconsciously, I find myself pinching my nose into shapeliness. It is a habit exhibited in boredom or deep-thinking. Truly, some girls twirl their hair, I pinch my nose. It's not one of my most sightly quirks.

I have a wide face. I have a flat face. At first-glance, it would appear as though I was stung repeatedly by a swarm of bees to my cheeks. They are rounded and the most prominent facial feature. My eyes are all but swallowed up by their swollen appearance. My nose is an almost afterthought and underdeveloped necessity.

Slightly Sightless

I had an interesting thought. I sometimes dislike the car driving in front of me for no rational reason. I don't like them because the color of their car or even worse, the shape of the back of their head. It got me thinking about the saying, 'blind like prejudice' and I got depressed. However, then I thought about the other saying, 'blind like love' and that gave me hope. Happy holidays everyone~!

Not mature enough to see past the rose-colored hue of childhood.

Over and over again, the inescapable circle.

Stupid pupil, it has to take everything in.

And for the first time in a long time, I've stepped outside of myself.

Deeply Darkly Infatuated with You

Violent dreams are a bitch. I have never been beaten up so much in my life...err dreams. This week alone I have been: beaten with a golf club, poisoned, stabbed with a huge needle taking blood from my neck, and dropped from a TORNADO. What. The. Fuck.

Pretty like Drugs

Life goes on you said.

I'm not even angry anymore, just terribly sad.

What I want never seems to coordinate with what I supposedly need. I'm abstract in a tangible existence, and I can't feign normalcy. Everyday monotony is a disease and no one seems to be looking for the cure. I want creativity, vision, imagination, inspiration, color, wit, perception, ingenuity, artistry, revelation, flair, epiphany. I want to immerse myself in the intangible. The corporeal world has no appeal to me. I want to be brave enough. I am not brave enough and I do it to myself, I do.

This horror will grow mild, this darkness light.

There is something refreshing about change; any change. For all that I fight against it, I also deeply appreciate it. Nothing can last forever and I take comfort in that instead of grief.

Violence in the Violet

I'm a panicky and flighty creature, but I have no where to go. I've stopped making decisions so I won't make mistakes. I'm also having a hard time taking people seriously. That's the problem with liars, we never believe anyone else.

Yellow Morning

Excerpt: 

"Fucking bugs. I’ve been fighting the damn mosquitoes all day and then I run into this giant-ass butterfly and I’m like ‘ah how pretty’ and then the fucker takes a huge bite out of me. A butterfly bit me. Stupid forest. I hate this place!”

Cerulean Awakening

sakura blossom in spring