tell em all i said hi

tell ’em all I said hi, hope you’ve been well
you’ve been asleep while I’ve been in hell
tell ’em all I said hi, have a nice day
i’ll be just fine, don’t worry ’bout me

lying on my side, watching time fly by
and I bet the whole world thought that I would give up today

🖤 amy’s insta too: @amysharkmusic


ps. fuck today. no more giving up god damnit. don’t give up.

more words soon,

the truth is


The truth is, I’ve had a rough year.

I have made a lot of hard choices, and definitely some wrong ones, in hindsight. I have been a very bad friend, and a pretty awful sister and daughter. I am not the mother I want to be, and though I have dreamt about having the last name of my lover for nearly half my life since I met him, it is far from easy to admit that in our first year of marriage, I have failed at being the wife he needs.

There have been moments when I wanted to give up.

In my darkest hours, I tried to create beautiful things as a distraction from reality, and sometimes, as a tether to it. Through writing and photography, I experimented with expressing my raw emotion and sharing what I could. I never had the time or energy or support to complete most of the projects I started, so most of my haphazardly planted seeds never even had a chance to grow. Looking back, I know I tried to do too many things at once. I chased perfection and in my pursuit of it, drowned and choked all my chances of being mediocre. Which sounds punk and all, but it’s quite isolating, and I suspect some of you understand exactly what I mean when I say instagram hides loneliness well.

The truth is, I am dying to fucking blossom. I just had to find my way.

In just a few weeks, I will have traveled around the sun thirty times on this earth. I have seen so much that nothing surprises me anymore, and I thought by now I would be strong enough to create the kind of positive energy that radiates love towards everyone I know. But in comparison to my childhood daydreams about the woman I would become, I am nothing that I hoped. My mistake was in forgetting to take care of myself, and though my charm is part to blame, I lost my mind and body and life entirely in the opinions of others. Now, I look in the mirror and see all the fragments of my soul and I struggle with how to trust, and how to love, and how to just be the beautiful fucking mess I am.

The irony is never lost on me that I am known for preaching authenticity, and I never share anything about my real life.

I think it’s time to change.

[original post: instagram @josidenise]