Hell to the Fuck YES!

Thank you!! Thank you!! Totally donating to this cause. Just like the condom with teeth, I hate that this is needed BUT I'm grateful.
Basically new technology has allowed for the detection of the date rape drug through the use of certain materials. Cups and straws will be able to detect if your drink is laced with GHB.  For the full article go here: Drug Rape Prevention: DrinkSavvy

Free Write: On Sandy Hook & Others

The fact that shootings like this continue to happen breaks my heart. My condolences for all those families who have ever lost someone due to any form of violence. To Sandy Hook Elementary you have my warm wishes and love. To those who have ever taken an innocent life, I'm sorry, that wasn't right but nevertheless I'm sorry if whatever plagued you took over. 
Rest in peace butterflies. Rest in peace.

-ChesterYaYa

It's feeling small.
Hopeless.
Fragile.
Weak.

It's feeling muddled in your skin.
Ugly.
Confused.
Uncomfortable.

Everything and everyone is daunting.
Scary.
Intimidating.
Painful.

Hunger will plague you but the urge to consume doesn't exist.
Tired.
Lazy.
Frustrated.


It's realizing things are wrong and being afraid to look at yourself but not having the courage or strength to fight against yourself alone.
It's needing help and being too proud to ask, but mainly being scared of what the others may think if they realize you're not "fine".
It's looking outside, realizing what a beautiful day it is and still remaining in your bed, not even trying to leave.
There is no motivation. There is a desire to seek help and be fixed. There is a desire to magically erase all of it.

It's giving up, still trying and hating yourself for not being able to fix it alone.

I'll just turn away.

Solace can only be brought by terrible actions.
Acceptance of the new will not lead to comfort, turning away will.


The smiles, the giggles, the carless flirting will hurt.
For now, acceptance is impossible.
A promise of a full me repair will occur is out of line.
A promise that acceptance will one day occur is out of line.
A promise of any nature will be a lie.

Denial is not right but it does calm me.

Free Write:

I am not meant for things that matter.
I am the pit stop between the trash and the grand ball.
I will help you make yourself into a better person, but I will be forgotten.
I will fill your life with majestic encounters and beautiful trembles but there will be better.

Don't apologize, I know my place.
Don't pretend that you don't understand.
Years, tears and smiles have led to my understanding.
I am slowly embracing it all.

In the end, I always end the same.

Free Write: I Think I Found It

I've always wanted a tattoo. That being said, I've always wanted the tattoo to be words. I can't imagine pictures, no matter how artistic they can be, to be forever etched on my skin. I find that words are more significant to me, even if I suck at writing.
I've been well, dealing with some "demons". I have yet to get professional help but hey, babysteps. I'm getting there.
I decided to start reading again. I've been watching movies, films and shows. (I strongly believe that there is a difference between films and movies.) Lately I've been watching an incredible amount of tv/movies/films. Consequently, I've been feeling like a fucking zombie so this lead to my decision of reducing my watching time and increasing my reading time. I was originally reading The Canterbury Tales and House of Leaves. Today I was going to continue with more tales but I wasn't in the mood. My anxiety and panic attacks have been easily triggered so for now, I'm avoiding House of Leaves.
I turned to Euripides. While reading Alcestis I discovered an amazing quote.

"And I, because I am your friend and you
are mine, shall help you bear this sorrow, as I should."

It's what I stand for. I think I've found my tattoo. Now, to save up and continue being true to those words.

-ChesterYaYa

 

Sink or Swim

It's a slow and painful breath.

As the water pours in, my lungs try harder to send air
but the icy waves have frozen them.
I'm drowning.
I never learned how to tread.

I floated casually for 19 years. There weren't any ripples, tides, any movement until then,
the ones that existed I glided over.
The ripples grew and these waves began to hate me.
Each one I passed collided into the next. They united.
They rose against me.
They betrayed me.
I'm drowning.

All the hover boards thrown at my limp body confused me.
I can't work them.
My arms are tired, my legs are burning.
I can't float anymore.
I can't breathe anymore.

I'm drowning,
and you can't hear my screams.

Sadly Blended But Not Distinguished

I'm not brown.
I'm not black.
I'm not white.
I'm not yellow.
I'm not a mix of any color.
I'm a pasty strange color.

I don't cry on the 16th of September.
I don't have a star spangled banner in July.
I don't wear blue, white and red on the 14th of Juillet.

Rainbow flags are my flags. 
Halloween is my holiday.
Stange pale colors are my colors.

Ni de aqui, ni de alla.

My language is English. 
My ethnicity is Hispanic.
My heart is human.
My brain is human.
My blood is human.
My culture is unknown.
I am queer but not enough. I am American but not enough. I am Mexican but not enough. 

I am a blend of colors that left me undistinguished and forgotten. 

Free Write: Wincing Away

This was supposed to be my year.
I wanted to be a director for a play and president for a club. Turns out I'm just part of the crew again and basically a regular club member with a fancy name whose members don't even know. I was supposed to transfer to another major, find a new school interest. Instead, I got kicked out of university and now I'm going to a community college oh and my classes are taught by incompetent "professors". I was supposed to be in an amazing relationship instead I was dumped and left as the best-friend-that-wants-more.
I'm working at a place where I've "reached a wall" and consequently can't get any faster. My "friends" have forgotten me. I'm tired and sick and the pain in my breasts and back won't go away. The only thing I can do is crawl up in a little ball, wrap myself in my covers and pretend that somehow this is what I wanted and that everything is going fine, that in this tiny corner inside my head there is a Chester-Ya-Ya that is happy and is a lead director and is president of a club and is one of the best employees and is not sick and is in a phenomenal relationship. Somewhere inside my head I'm 100% fine.


-ChesterYaYa

Ouch

It's the car crash.
It's the glass breaking.
It's the realization that a torn paper will never be whole once again.
It's the lie that was told. Yes, it hurt.
It's a basic understanding that things don't happen for a reason.
It's realizing that plates close to the edge fall.
It's the sad heart.
It's the lonely person.
It's knowing that there will never be a unification.
It's the bad ending to a beautiful story.
It's life.

Free Write: The Break

I miss him. This time it's different. I just miss him, I still get to have him. It's not the way I want him but I'll settle.

I still miss him. If I get to lay with him on my birthday, I'll be the happiest I've ever been.

-ChesterYaYa

Things I Wish I Could Say and Letters I Wish I Could Write-2

I already miss you and it's only been a few hours since the deed has been done. I've cried sporadically throughout the day. You'd think I'd run out of tears, but no, they keep coming back.
I just can't grasp it yet.
It just
I regret not holding you when I was angry or too proud. I regret not kissing you, not grabbing your hand. I regret every moment I took for granted.
I miss you so much. I know we are still best friends but you know thats not all I want. I can't do anything.
I found your sock. I have your shirt. All these stupid items make me so happy and then the rush of sadness kicks in. Why? Because I won't be able to relive all those moments or have a chance to make new ones and that hurts.
I want you back but I can't have you. I keep hoping something magically changes and you'll call me and say you've changed your mind and that you want me back but I know it won't happen.
It's going to be a tough week.

Free Write: Disappearing

Lately I've been feeling like just jumping off a roof. I won't. I'm afraid of heights, oh and my number one phobia is death. I won't do it.
It's just that lately I've been feeling pretty worthless. Worthless enough that this lump should just leave. It's weird. I feel like I haven't found my niche. I don't feel like I'm leaving any worthy impression, carbon footprint excluded.
I'm going as a clown this year. I've been feeling like one a little bit. Except, lately, I've even been failing at that. I can't make people laugh or even want me around. I kind of just blend into the cushions now. I just continue sinking into the couch while everyone around me chatters. I'm that lame lamp. I'm a terrible jester.
-ChesterYaYa

Free Write: My Dearest Apologies.

Today while on the bus I experienced something, scary. As the bus was pulling away a man, who was trying to board the bus, hit the window. It was loud but it happens. He wanted their attention, he got it. As the driver was trying to maneuver their way back to the curb he hit the window again. The driver told him that they weren't going to pick him up because he was hitting their bus. He became more violent. He began slamming his fist against the window. He was cursing at the driver. He kept hitting the windows, even the front door. I happened to be on the side closest to him. Every time he slammed his fist against the window, I'd get a little scared. I kept wondering. What if he get's inside? What if the window breaks? What would I do? I was scared. The only thing separating us was glass. The driver followed procedure and called OCTA and told them to send the police. Even while they were on the phone he continued to yell and hit the windows. Eventually he left.
I have had stalkers. Heck, once or twice I've seen some homeless fight, but this hasn't happened to me before. I was scared.
As soon as this ordeal was over I started thinking about all of you, then everybody else.
I am sorry. I am sorry if you haver ever felt threatened. I am sorry if you have ever worried about your safety. I'm sorry if you've ever stayed up at night hoping you'd see sunrise. I'm sorry if someone has ever made you feel insignificant. I'm sorry if someone has ever made you feel uneasy. I'm sorry if you've ever felt that regardless of the taekwondo lessons, the boxing classes, or any self defense classes you've felt defenseless. I am so sorry. My dearest apologies go out to you.
I wish I could fix it all. I know my experience may be minuscule compared to your struggles, but it reminded me of something. It put things in a cleaner perspective. Sometimes my glasses get covered with  a dim reality and I am temporarily blinded. I dozed off and I'm awake again.
PLEASE, fight on.
-ChesterYaYa

Things I Wish I Could Say and Letters I Wish I Could Write-1

I failed. Usually I say that when referring to some trivial matters, but not this time. This time, it's different and I'm sorry.
I couldn't take it anymore. I can't take it anymore. I wish to tell you everything but I know, I still shouldn't, can't, won't.
All you need to know is that I'm a mess. I'm terrible but I vow to make everything up. I mean it. I will fix everything. I'm going to give you what I owe and more. I will shine brightly. I will make it all up and I won't lie anymore. It will be different, but this one. This entire "thing" I'm keeping from you, you'll never hear. I will never tell you. You'll never, ever know. This secret won't be yours. It's mine, and I only share it with a few alibis.
I care about you and telling you everything will only damage what you think of me, and I can't have you hate me. Not now. Not ever. I want you to keep believing in me. I want you to keep loving me. I want you to keep thinking of me as you did in highschool. Special. A diamond in the rough. I'm not the prettiest diamond but I like you believing that, and that's why I can't tell you.

Please understand, I love you. Don't ask any questions, I won't, can't, shouldn't say anything.
Things will be better.

I swear.

My hair looks magical. Nuzzle.

Words From a Friend

So yesterday was interesting. I got to see a multitude of news articles about people who hate me and my queer family so much that they were willing to sit in mile-long lines just to show it. I really can’t put into words how disheartening and infuriating that is. To know that so many people think that I’m somehow less, that I’m undeserving of the rights they take for granted.

This isn’t just about gay marriage. Right now there are so many kids out there–struggling with their sexualities, gender identities, or any number of other things–going through the same things I did when I was younger. Worrying about which of their friends will turn on them, or having to seriously consider whether they’ll even have a place to live once they come out. Perhaps living in denial or hating themselves, even to the point of being suicidal. Learning for themselves that it’s *okay* to be who you are, because no one else will teach them. Try telling those kids how supposedly non-hateful our society is.

I speak from experience; I’ve felt all of those things at some point in my life. Growing up gay in a conservative household is, to put it lightly, difficult. I was lucky enough to meet my friend Adam online when we were in our early teens. We ended up coming out to each other at some point. I don’t recall exactly how that came about, but just having one person that I could be completely open with was so helpful. I can honestly say I probably wouldn’t be here today if I hadn’t had that friendship to lean on. But even so, I had my share of denial and self-hatred. I told myself I was really straight for years, that my attraction to guys was just a phase. When I couldn’t make myself believe that anymore, I told myself I must be bisexual instead, to hang on to the idea that I could still at least have some heterosexual attractions like I was “supposed” to. It was such a self-destructive way to live, and I wasn’t able to fully come to terms with myself until more recently than I care to admit. While I’m absolutely proud of myself as I am today, not everyone is that lucky.

Every time I heard someone I respected condemn queers when I was younger, it killed me a little inside. When I think of how a closeted queer kid might have felt yesterday, seeing those thousands upon thousands of people proudly displaying their ignorance and bigotry, it tears me apart. I’m tired of the Chick-fil-A controversy, of institutionalized queerphobia and of this insane religious hegemony that consistently puts doctrine ahead of basic human compassion. As tired as I am, though, this is why I’m so vocal about queer rights. The simple truth is that the queer community needs to take care of itself, because if we don’t there are so few others who will. That’s why I advocate, even if some weeks it’s just a link here or putting in my two cents there in the hopes that someone might see it and be encouraged. As long as the queer community is treated like second-class citizens, as long as there are kids out there going through the same things I had to go through, closeted and unable to stand up for themselves, I’m going to do what I can on their behalf. I urge all of you, especially the many queer allies I know, to do the same.

-Justin Lara (I.Q. Co-Chair)

It's a painstaking, view, to look at the mirror and not recognize the person staring back.
It's not exactly what you would call a change.
It's confusion.
It's a loss of words.
Only seconds ago you couldn't reach the sink. Your toothbrush had some Blue Clues character and your floss was "tangy berry".
Now, you're tall. Or taller. You can clearly see yourself. No tippy toes.
It's a flash of deja vu, that doesn't end.
How, when and how?
When did this all happen?
It's a clear image of that break, that crash where the fork in the road became only one path.
A giant eraser had swooped in and removed the other path.
There. That is the when.
And woosh back to reality.
The person in the mirror, who was thought a stranger but wasn't is now, different.
It's a terrible realization.

Free Write: Oooh La La

Con
:)
Officially.

-ChesterYaYa

Something told me I would be a majestic disaster.

Photo by: Ad of CHLiAD

Psuedo Convos: BamBam and Pebbles

Pebbles: Does this mean more sex?
BamBam: If that's what it takes I'm willing to make that sacrifice, for you.


Ese guey. Sacrifice. Whatever jaja

topic: helping out a friend under depression

Death of a Student

This isn't death of a family, no, there lacks a coffin and a body, but there still is a funeral.
Into the pit crashes all the sweat, tears, all the money wasted, all the pages elaborately falling thus creating a mountain of white.
Into the pit falls all the debt, all the loss, aspirations, dreams.

There is a rising.
Out from the depths of the grave rises the worries, the fear and sometimes even the glory.
A strike of happiness may cross the face from time to time, although it's overtaken by the other sinister aspects.
The idea of sale.
The constant need that plagues the mind, an ad spinning in the brain, its image SALE stamped across a naked body.
Could this be it?
Is this where all the corpses come to rot?

The silence.
A deafening blow approaches as the last item spirals into the pit.
There is no dust. No remains fly freely, all have been entombed.
This is the pit. This is the grave.
This is the end, or perhaps the beginning to a perilous climb.

The Baggage

There's a suitcase on the doorstep.
It arrived here about a week or so ago.
It's not big. No, it's on the scale of medium.
A brown, leather bundle, with green stitching and golden handles,
rests on the doorstep.
It hasn't been moved much.
People use it, take it out for a stroll but always return it to its "proper" place.
It doesn't belong but it does.
It's stuck, in between.
People move around it. That's the usual way of things.
Things weren't always like this.
The suitcase use to be used. It use to move. It use to connect with others. In fact, it use to be part of the house.
Then it arrived on the doorstep and now, it just rests there.

Free Write: Cat Like Thief

Am I concerned? That's a given. Am I mad? Yup. Do I want to smash my fist into anything? Yup. Am I going to suck it up and pretend that I'm ok? Fuck no. You'd be an idiot to think I would do such a thing. Irvine, I hate you. You kill everything. You suck the life out of everything that I have left.

Fuck you,

ChesterYaYa

streets

With one candle, two feet and an umbrella.
Oh what a lonely path to tread on.
With this comfort of my shadow, with the hymns of my heart.
Does sorrow come forth?
The walk continues and grows.
Does the darkness elope?
With nothing on my side and everything to gain.
What is lost is to gain.
The walking of hundreds, the path of one.
Alone forever, to come to none.

I

• Sometimes I think these eyes are glorious landmarks
• Sometimes I think these eyes are a portal to an uncharted land
• Sometimes I think these eyes are nothing, just a forgettable organ.

But in reality these eyes, are balanced in an asymmetrical face. With asymmetrical eyebrows and a crooked nose to compliment them, these eyes see everything there is to be seen but never enough.
They are beautiful and rotten.
They above all are fragile. These eyes are the entrance to all that is me. These eyes are magnificent.

Con

Con.
Confiada.
Confidente.
No. That's not the word. Confident.
The feeling that something will happen, that something will happen because you caused it.
The power. Changing something that seconds ago was engraved in a mural.
I am confident.
There is no fear.
There will be....
Tu y Yo.
Con.
Together.
Just us. Juntos. A union. Complete?
Indeed.
Excuse the arrogance.
Yo estaré contigo.

"Two in my heart have left me a while, I stand alone. When they get back, it won't be the same.
My life, you've always been there. Now you're gone and my head's spinning. Left the childhood, left the memories, left the good times in the past. Moving on your time has run out.
Wishing the clock would stand still, the world can wait. Wasting away once again, once lived as friends.
As time passes by, regrets for the rest of my life. The ones who I confide were gone in the black of the night."

   -Avenged Sevenfold (Second Heartbeat)

Free Write: I'm Lucky

I was supposed to die today.
About a few years ago, around the age of 8, I had an excruciating pain. I woke up in the middle of the night. I had a fever and my stomach ached so much. I remember waking up and being the loud kid that I am, I woke up my mother too. I remember moving to the living room. Lying down and having my mother talk to me. I remember my mom waking up my dad. "Tiene que ir al hospital." She has to go to the hospital. I remember that. I also remember my dad channeling the stereotypical Mexican in him and telling me that I should just rub some Vapor Rub on me. After my mom said that she'd take me if he wouldn't, he took us.
I remember arriving to the hospital. I remember being given a container in case I continued to vomit. I remember so many things from that night, but mostly I remember how scared I was. I can't think of the pain, just the fear.
I didn't know what was happening. Only a few months ago my grandmother had died. Now, I was hospitalized. They didn't tell me much. Even after I was changed to a hospital gown and placed under so many tests, they didn't tell me much. How could they? I was eight. A lil' kid. I still played with my toys. I still thought, well I had recently found out about Santa. I was eight.
But when I arrived to my room, at the hospital, I saw a lil' girl. She was worse than me. She didn't look like she was going to make it. I actually can't remember if she did.
It was an appendicitis. They suck. Basically it's an organ, the appendix, that serves no purpose but like everything else can kill you. Anatomy rocks. My parents knew. The docs obviously had to legally tell them. See each time they looked at me they had this certain, glare. They were scared too. They knew that I had the chance of not making it. Of dying during the operation or even before. They were scared of losing their lil' girl. I didn't know that then, but I know it now.
Every time around Memorial Day weekend I start remembering about that day. Those days. I remember the fear. Sometimes I think I actually did die and all this is just a new reality. Maybe hell, maybe heaven. I love looking at my parents. See, when I came out of that operation it hurt. The stitches and all the pain from being cut open raced back to me the instant the anesthesia wore off but when I saw my mom and dad, I knew I was going to be fine. So when I look at them I know that I will. Sometimes I start doubting making it past a day but when I look at them I know that I will be fine. Even if I'm in pain, I'll be fine.

-ChesterYaYa

Free Write: Email Me Something Beautiful

This week will be tough. I already know it. I need to do great on my midterm on Thursday. I am asking whoever reads this blog or follows me on twitter to send me good vibrations. All positive energy is welcomed.

email me: annieyaya@me.com
tweet me: annieyayaa

I'd greatly appreciate it. AND if you'd like something back let me know and I will more than happily replay through tweets, emails or even letters :)

-ChesterYaYa

The Loss

It was warm.
A typical day, not to hot, not to cold.
Actually it was night.
Either way it happened, it was inevitable and there was no way it could have been stopped.
I was sleeping.
Just dreaming.
A kid.
Two years ago Santa still existed but things were still merry.
It happened quickly.
I had heard about things. I was told it was going to happen.
Mother told me. Teachers told me. Even a principal.
I was just sleeping.
It woke me up.
A sudden rush.
Quick.
I tried to run away but It followed me.
Followed me into the bathroom,
where I saw It.
There It was.
On my cute cotton underwear.
Drenched.
I was ready for it but It still stung.
My innocence. Just lying there.

I can be an adorable little creature. 

Be Alright

How can I instill a sense of beauty in you?
How can I?
Perhaps....
The way you move, everything flows to a certain sound.
Each inch of your skin has been gracefully made.
Your lips rest so sweetly on each other.
Your words have a melody.
They always do. No matter the tone, or the words, they always are a melody.
Even the way you carry yourself.
The caution. The awareness. It's wonderful.
At times it's scary.
At times, I'd wish you'd smile more. Show the gaps, the grin, but I understand.
You grace us with your smile. It's a present when it occurs.
I want you to understand.
You're beautiful.

Free Write: Why Yes, Yes I Did

I went to a Coldplay concert. I honestly never expected to go to a Coldplay concert. It's well, Coldplay. But I went. I went for my Pseudo-Boo. The trip was nice. The concert was good but stuff annoyed me, not just the music. Someone needs to remind Chris Martin to stop trying so hard. jeje However the concert did create a huge desire to go see more bands. I want another Jimmy Eat World concert >_< Along with other ones. I miss Unwritten Law and sorts. I will wait! I will be ready!

-ChesterYaYa

Simultaneous Release

It's all wrong.
Everything.
The colors. The light. The words.
Why is everything wrong?
Why can't I understand? The mouths make no sense. They just move!
My senses are failing me.
Can I trust them? Can I trust them all?
There's no hope here.
It's another lost cause.
But why! Why! Why!
I was fine.
I swear I was.
I am fine.
Stop looking at me.
Staring! Is! Not! A nice thing to do!
Why don't they mix? Two colors should mix!
Why is everything wrong.
It's all wrong.

Free Write: The Truth

See people say I'm smart. They're wrong. They obviously don't know me because if they did they would know that all I do is watch TV. TV shows on the web to be exact. And movies on Netflix. Given a free day, I'd probably just end up watching TV and more movies. It'd be just like any other day. No difference. That my dear readers, is not a smart mind. It's a lazy mind.

Los Conquistadores

If the thoughts pursue their targeted subject then I will fall in a blink.
It is inevitable.
After-all,
the swirls and constant ripples cause a dizzy effect long after they are over.
You could call it a dance, a ball of sorts that belongs in the brain.
Somewhere deep inside there are Tiny Thoughts dancing lindy hop.
Not prancing. There is no elegance.
They are happy thoughts that enjoy the music and the dance but, cause the audience to growl and groan.
They are happy unhappy thoughts.
Once they reach their targeted subject everything will cease to be creative and delightful.
Already, if you close your eyes for a fraction of a second too long you can see the life of all originality be drained.
These thoughts don't come for friends. There will be no assimilation.
They come to wreck havoc and conquer.
They are the conquistadors.
Every tiny breath they draw, gives them minutes of life that spawn into hours which eventually spawn into eternity.
They shouldn't live.
But they do.
The antidote hasn't been obtained for the subject. It hasn't been found.
The blinking is growing longer.
The breaths are shortening and growing longer at once.
The dancers are moving.
The thoughts are expanding.
Another conquistador has arrived.
Alas another causality.
It is needed.
The antidote!
It must be found!
It is too late.

Is there peace?

Sometimes

I don't always love you, just sometimes.
Like a kid with cookies or, a dog who doesn't bark when given treats.
I love you when you keep me warm, when you hold my hand during my attacks, when you make me milkshakes.
I love you when no one else is around and all you see is me. I love you when you hold me tight at night and give me kisses on my cheeks.
I love you in pieces, in parts,
I love you sometimes.

Free Write: Oops

If you really are gone, you were right. You were right about it all. No one else will ever love me the way you did. They will never miss me as much. They will never want me as much. They will never hurt me as much.
When they look at me they won't only want me. Looking at others will cause them desire. Looking at others will cause them longing for better. I won't be enough.
You were right, and I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

-ChesterYaYa

Flip Flop

Your arms are floppy.
They can hold me strong.
Their hold doesn't mean love.
No it means something far from it.
It's fear.
You're afraid.
You're afraid I'll leave.
You're afraid that one day I won't return.
So they don't really hold me.
Every time you put your floppy, lanky arms around me, they never hold me.
It's the fear they hold.

This Is Where I Fade

If I could grasp your soul as quickly as I've grasped your hands, things would be quite simple.
Words would be useless.
Time would be saved.
And you'd be a happy fool.

Just that.

I am no magician.
Wands can't make this all occur.
Your naivety, although great, is not enough.
You are a wise fool, just not a happy one.

I Can't Afford To Care

We're playing house.
It's fine for now.
Mouths are being fed. Sleep is fun.
But it will run sour.
Milk goes sour and so will we.
And the blame will be mutual so,
enjoy the game.

It's dark.
It's dark, because the candles are't here.
No candles, no matches.
No fire, no burning.
Just sour,
But the house will remain.

Day in the Life

I'm a prospective doctor that fights crime at night in outfits like this using chlorofoam. Oh and my ego is astronomical.

"When you are in trouble is no time for silence
The heart that would hear everything
is proved most greedy in misfortune's hour.
You should not hide your troubles from your friends,
and, father, those who are closer than your friends."

             -Hippolytus (Hippolytus) 

Free Write: Late Nights

So my friend is sleeping on my bed. I had just finished watching YellowBrickRoad. I turn to my friend and tell him to wake me up at seven.
He takes out his wallet......he was going to put an alarm on his wallet. He's so tired.
He eventually took out his phone.

-ChesterYaYa

Converse

So, you're giving up?After so long, you're giving up?
No. I'm not giving up. It's just that you need to go back to her. You need to go back to her and get your heart broken, and when you do, you better hope I'm still around. I know we're good together, fuck that we're great, but you can't realize that yet. Only after all hope of her is shattered you'll start to see me. So go ahead and walk away. I'll let you, but realize this. You better be ready for heartbreak, and maybe, if you're lucky, I'll still be around to pick up the pieces.

missing

There's no grace in your walk.
No bounce.
No flair.
It's just a crash of discordant notes being played by the right person,
but there is no flair.

get there anyway

staring at the changing minutes on the computer screen...
moving papers that have already been fixed...
wiggling a pen, then looking at your phone hoping time has continued and all the same wishing it hasn't...
these moments are fragile,
and if you listen close enough you can hear the tick
and the everlasting scream
shh,
listen.

my novelty

I said you found a place under my skin,
I didn't lie.
I said that some how you found a way inside my brain,
it was the truth;
the cave within me echos your words.
I said that I care, that I think about you quite often and that your presence is the only thing life has graced me with,
once again my words held truth.
But you threw that all away.
My words, my feelings, they were all bits of paper thrown to a flame.
You danced on my grave and spit in my eyes.
And now I have to grow again.
But I am no weed.
A flower that has been hurt can't simply begin to grow.
My petals hurt.
My stamen hurt.
Everything hurts.
I will grow, just not now.
Not now.

"If you knew I was dying, would it change you?"
         -Manchester Orchestra 

Free Write: Damn, Stone Cold

This constant rejection is killing me. It's not like I ever had a huge score. I never had "game". I blame it on my friends being so awesome. I mean seriously, when all your friends are ridiculously cute, smart and talented you basically don't come up to par. I guess you can say that in a way, I'm use to it. It's just that this constant rejection is hurting so much. I know it's the terrible depression episode that had this gigantic kicker but still it hurts. I mean when you're own fuck buddy doesn't want to hold you....yeah.

Oh well,
-ChesterYaYa

I've always wanted to randomly receive flowers...one day.

Although I'm second choice, sometimes I feel like #1.

first loser

your words were venom
your actions were foul trickery
my belief was ignorance

the regret will forever soak in
the impossibility will linger
and I will waste away

first loser
second choice
it will continue
just believe
believe those words because that's the conclusion

and curse the naivety

if and only if

It's far from being enough.
It's the iff problem.
I can't be necessary and sufficient.
I'm the and, that small little pause. That small little break.
Not the conditional part.
Just a part.
Without me you'll be fine.
With me, well, I'm not needed.
Oh philosopher.
I want the iff.

Because I Like M.I.A

4 9 5 3 1

You know, you're just so beau
Stop it! Stop calling me beautiful.
Why?
Because. I'm stupid so I'm gonna think that whatever I'm wearing today is dubbed beautiful and everyday after today is just going to be me measuring up to it. So please, don't call me beautiful or pretty or cute. Just don't.
But, you honestly don't need to measure up to anything. You don't.

Free Write: Let's Go Back

Can we go back to the moment when everything felt fine?
Because right now, this very moment, everything feels like a train-wreck.
Let's go back to last night.

-ChesterYaYa

Free Write: One Mountain Dew, One Rockstar and Two Donuts

Somehow my flu went dormant and finally kicked in this week. It also happened to be the week of the Silverstein concert. My entire body ached. It hurt to swallow anything, warm or cold. If my voice didn't stay at a specific level my throat would hurt. I had a headache and stomach. I was fucked. However I have amazing friends that tried their best to nurse me back to health. So yesterday I went to the concert.

I was nervous because I never had been to a screamo show before. It was at the House of Blues and I only knew one band, Silverstein. I love the House of Blues. Love, love, love that venue. I went. I actually didn't feel as bad, I slept well-ish and drank a decent amount of tea. The ride there was nice. I don't really hangout with these two friends but I definitely care deeply for them. While they talked about things that were relevant to both of them I just kicked it in the back seat, lip-synching to all the Silverstein and other bands that came on. Even though we hit traffic we got there right on time. And I mean, right, on, time. The doors opened at 6:00Pm. We arrived at 5:57 PM. Oh and we got really good, cheap parking. :]

Once we got inside the guys went to go pee. We all had to go pee. As Andrew said, "It's unanimous." I went to get spots as close to the railing as possible. I knew that my friends would be enjoying the show so this time, I was on my own, which meant that the only way I was going to survive a screamo show was to get as close to the railing as possible. There were no spots...well some guys eventually left for some reason so I took their spots :] The first band to come on was I The Breather. I was meh about it. Didn't really move around. I was waiting. However I do admit that their bassist is awesome. His riffs were so cool. Then Texas in July came on and wow. They put on a really, really good show. They had so much energy. They made the crowd go wild. My friends got in the pit. Oh and one of them lost an earing. jeje

Silverstein was next. Yeah, they were awesome. They do a good show. And obviously I was there singing all the lyrics except for the two new songs that are coming out on their new album this month. Even though Texas in July was cool, I only bounced and went crazy for Silverstein. I was waiting. I was waiting for them. But for some reason what I keep thinking about was the end of the night. Once Silverstein was done I got out. I didn't really want to watch August Burns Red, plus I had to pee again. When my friends saw me get out they came too. After another pee break we went to the merch table. I bought this warm, comfy hoodie which I am wearing right now as I type. Of course it's a Silverstein hoodie ;] They each bought a Silverstein shirt and one of them also got a hoodie. We then left. One of my friends is an August Burns Red fan, I felt bad that we didn't stay but leaving totally made up for it. When we exited, BOOM. There are two members of Silverstein and ALL of Texas in July. We first asked the guys from Texas in July if they would mind taking a picture with us. They were so chill! They took the picture with us and two of the members shook our hands. They really were super chill. THEN we attacked the Silverstein members! I got a picture with Josh. He was so nice. Chatted with us for a few seconds. We also took a picture with Paul. That's when I totally went fan girl status. I had asked Josh and the lead singer, Alex, from Texas in July for the picture but I couldn't seem to get the nerve to ask Paul. I just really like his drumming skills. I was too shy. He took a picture with me :] After that we waited around to see if we could see Shane. No luck. We went to a 7/11 nearby, literally next door to the House of Blues and we bought: a rockstar, a mountain dew and two donuts. Yeah :]

There was no traffic. We made it back to Irvine in and hour and 15. Turns out my friend was going pretty fast. It was a good night. Scratch out the going to a lame party and everything of this night was great.

It was good.

-ChesterYaYa

fall into my eyes

Before the anniversaries comes the boredom,
the boredom that turns into dislike which soon can turn into hatred.
But not a strong, fully fledged, hatred.
Just a level one.
Needless to say, it's there.
It's what keeps the romantic getaways from ever appearing,
the "Congratulations on making it another year with them,"
the "I love you so much it hurts," comments,
and even the cute sappy pictures together.
The stupid boredom keeps it all.
It keeps all the potential hidden in a room, where it will never see the rays of care.

Or maybe it's not the boredom.
Could it be fear?
Not close.
It's the boredom. The lack of interest.
The lack of a constant spark.
It's a flame that disappears entirely when the trees dance.

The spark has been there before, but in unwanted eyes.
Eyes that didn't see.
What good are eyes that don't see or sparks that can't make fire?
What a pity.

My Bear

If my vagina were an animal it'd be a bear.

Bears are wild, and free.
People know that you must approach them with caution.
You have to be careful. Certain things can upset a bear.
You can't simply walk up and demand a hug.
But bears, they are also loving and protective.
They know how to love. They know how to fend off unwanted strangers.

My vagina could be a bear.
After all, they are beautiful creatures.
But you must not keep my vagina in a cage, no matter how big the cage.
It deserves to be free, wild. It deserves to be loved and mostly, it deserves to be respected.

Yup, it's totally a bear.

Free Write: Music Pays

As I said on twitter, I am too emotionally unstable to be listening to beautiful music. Bon Iver, Radiohead, Bloc Party, Elliott Smith and Iron and Wine are killing me.
I need to keep hydrated. >_<

-ChesterYaYa

"...you are that which you call life; you are a temporary, incidental accumulation of particles."

   -Tolstoy  

Envy Within

Your composure.
Your strength.
Your versatility
but mainly, your composure.
Robotic to my mania.
I'm incomparable.
A big round ten to my near existing one.
It's a sad thing,
but it exists.
I'll try to be more, maybe not as close,
but more, indeed.

I'm Thigh Expanding

I took it from another blog. Thank you Oh Hello Friend: You Are Loved.

Free Write: Another Text

Me: Que paso? why the ellipsis?
Person: Oh just because. I thought you looked beautiful.

:D

The little things

The little things make my night.
Simple things, like a manifestation that the money did not go to waste or
texts with sweet words.

Sometimes, beautifully evil people can even make my night.
Little itty bitty things.

They make me smile from ear to ear.
Thanks.

Awareness Issue: Banning School Books

"All books and materials of the now forbidden Mexican American Studies classes were seized from the classrooms. This follows the 4 to 1 vote on Tuesday by the Tucson Unified School District board to succumb to the State of Arizona, and forbid Mexican American Studies, rather than fight the state decision.


Students said the books were seized from the classrooms and out of their hands after the vote banning Mexican American Studies, including a book of photos of Mexico. Crying, students said it was like Nazi Germany and they have been unable to sleep since it happened."


All I can say is wow. Seriously?


FUll article --> BANNING OF BOOKS

Free Write: It Comes and Goes in Waves

Fucking shit. Motheradhsddj. Shit just got real. I hate it when people put their heart out there for me. This wasn't supposed to happen. I'm not Amy. Don't chase me.
-ChesterYaYa

Last Resort

It's black and white.
It's a point of view that this time, will get me through.
It's avoiding the thoughts in the attic,
and accepting the terrible antics.
It's what I have left and the only thing I ever had.
It's understanding that half ass, is literally half bad.
It's black and white, and this time, I'll make it right.

Irvine Queers :]

There has been an update!
Irvine Queers

Free Write: My First Love

So I'm going through my old things. It's time for some spring cleaning. Over the years I've piled up all these notes and sketches and trivial things. I found some letters from a friend.
I found the notebook of my first love.
I can tell it was him. I remember thinking I was badass because I had a boyfriend. The fact that he was older made added points to my ego. His name is written here & there. Oh and lyrics from this one song he dedicated to me are found etched on the notebook. It's funny how I remember so much from him. Like the bands he encouraged me to continue listening to. Or how we would laugh for hours on the phone. For some strange reason I don't remember much of the pain of the break-up. I thank my brain for that. However I do feel pain when I remember the good times, mainly because they were so quickly taken away from me.
He broke up with me. The details, as in the reasons, are iffy.
I'm just reminiscing right now. We were so good together. Too bad he broke my heart. He's like the guy that I'm meant to be with yet I shouldn't be with. I'm glad I got over him. I really am. I was so in love with him. I remember two years later, after the break-up, I still loved him. And he is totally to blame for the reason I was so mean to myself. He showed me so much and I'm thankful for that. Him and another showed me what I'm worth. I don't love him anymore.
I can talk to him but I can hardly trust him as a friend. It's weird that I went from 100% love to just meh. Well not weird, more amazing, like he said he broke my heart (a few times).
Wow, the shit an old notebook can bring.
-ChesterYaYa

Sleepy Wakey

Tears will come when:
Missing the possibility of becoming a unit,
Knowing that the turning of the tide will not come,
Understanding that the stumps that once were wings will never grow back,
It all happens in phases and this is just phase one.
To be afraid of the following footholds is to be wise and above all it is natural.
Let the gifts come.
Phase one will always remain.

So Much Truth

No Tit For Tat

Childish men, trampling the hedges.
Mother has been scarred and the air is filled with fumes of burnt trees.
Even the birds are lost in the ash.
Childish men, murdering the young.
Screams are heard miles around, not even the men's laughter can penetrate the yells.
Hope has been lost.
Stupid, foolish men.
All the beauty is gone.
Men have poisoned the waters, their dreams to make better have rotten the core.
Observation of beauty did not lead to preservation, here all is gone.
Selfish men.

Understanding in a Household

And the hero fell.
They plummeted to their end.
Their life remained.
Their age of triumph, however, was over.

The sun had burnt their wings.
New ones are soon to arrive but for now, the hero could not fly, only hover.

Free Write: He's Not Superman, clearly

I was watching my end of the year movie marathon. The first three movies were supposed to be the Lord of the Rings trilogy. It was difficult getting through the first one because Dexter was restless and Mommas kept interrupting but I eventually finished it. The night was going pretty good. I was enjoying my movies, and my Dad said a nice thing about my bro and I.


I got this text. It was from my bro's girlfriend asking if I was awake. My brother was drunk. Long story short I had to take care of him. That's not what ruined my night. The friend that brought my brother wasn't sober either. He even tripped when he was leaving and admitted to still being " a little tipsy".

See the problem is that I use to look up to my brother. If a class prompt asked "who do you look up to" I would write about him. Today he did something so careless. He let someone who was NOT sober drive around. Oh did I forget to mention that it's been foggy? I just keep thinking that they could have crashed. They could have killed someone. They could have died. They could have killed someone. That is just replayed over and over in my brain.

I am being selfish and hypocritical and stupid but I can't get over it. I've been in the car with someone who has had a few drinks but I'm the sober chick in the passenger seat watching the road, keeping them up, telling them to pull over. There was nobody in that car doing that. Like I said, hypocritical.

Whatever. It's time for me to clean the ground.

-ChesterYaYa