noun. A vague feeling of sadness, seemingly without a cause

put your hand on my sternum.

yeah, right there.

don't move it, just stay there for a while.

i've been having a case of hypophrenia

and i just need to feel warmth in my chest

and i need you to make sure you feel a beating there.

is it there?

i can't really tell anymore.

there's nothing quite like skin on skin.

i read once that every person needs to be touched

at least eight times a day to function.

i guess that explains a lot.

don't freak out, i'm just putting my hand on top of yours.

don't move.

just breathe.

i'll inhale your carbon dioxide to calm myself down.

sorry there are black creeks flowing down my neck.

it's been a long month.

is it still beating?

ok.

ok.

ok.

good energy in.

bad energy out.

good in.

bad out.

in.

out.

alright, i'm feeling better now.

thanks.

a note to lloyd

we've had classes together the past three years.
and when we first met, i hated you instantly.

i'd say sorry, but we both know you were kind of a douche.

i've always sat on the opposite side of the class from you but you always seemed to catch my eye.
like not in a seductive way but in a confused way.
you were always either being a dumba** and being frick'n rude,
or you were hanging on the teachers every word and sharing the most deep and thoughtful things that pertained to the lesson.
but there was never an in between.
that is until this year.

i feel like you've finally found some middle ground.
i feel like you've finally found yourself.
but i can tell you're really scared to show everyone who you are,
so you just write in tears and angst and laughter on your blog.
yeah, i know who you are.
but don't worry, i won't tell anyone.


you're safe with me.

why i check out hot guys butts and why you should too: an acceptance speech

I'd like to start off by saying that the title of this speech has to be the best title of all time.

I'd also like to thank my mother, my mostly companion Rachel, and the men of BBC for getting me to where i am today. without your love, companionship, and booties i would not be here. thank you.

Also a big shout out to Vatican Cameo's. You know who you are big boy.

In my life journey, I have learned many things. For example, even though i may think my selfies are on point enough for Facebook, many others might think differently. But you know what, with all the hate and snarky comments that come with that trial, i have learned to appreciate the true art I put into my work. Another example of lessons I've learned is that even though i always forget to do my extra five, the pages i did remember to do are pure gold. always. and that's what truly matters.

I would like to thank the board for this award because it truly shows how much I've learned, and how far I've come.... 

*que fake emotional crying

But this isn't for me, it's for the fans of derrieres all around the world. this one's for you guys.

Thank you.

no.13

..................................................................................................How to

I don't know what I'm supposed to teach you.

All I know is that I finally can see myself on the cover of Vogue and that's what matters.

For the first time I'm not counting the stretch marks covering the secret parts of my body.

I'm buying Chanel makeup dammit because I can and because it makes me feel good about myself and I don't give a damn if you think I'm stuck up because I kind of want to be because I finally can be.

I've finally let myself be a little selfish and thAT'S OK.

Is this a makeup tutorial or a stick-it-to-the-man speech?

Who cares.

Nobody cared when I did body rolls at the dance by myself.

Nobody cared that the chick with a couple rolls on her stomach started going to see a shrink.

Nobody cares that I ate five cookies today in between meals.

Nobody cares about what brand of perfume I buy.

NOBODY GIVES A DAMN.

And that's totally fine with me, because guess what?

I don't want you to.

I just want to do my own thing, and I want you to occasionally look and me and think "wow she sure is something" because I don't want you to know what I am.

I want to be the mystery that you might think about on a random Thursday night when your 37 and the insomnia kicks in.

Did you get anything from this?

No? 

That's fine, I didn't do this for you anyway.

I did this for me.

Hey, that could be the lesson: do stuff for yourself.

The 37 year old with a sleeping disorder,
Charles Darnell

10:04

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but i think the thing that's killed me most is that i was replaceable.

Love Affairs and Barbies and $200 Pumps

When I was fifteen I thought my father was having an affair with one of his clients.
He wasn't.
He was just spending extra time at the office at night, scrambling to find a way to pay the mortgage.
When I was seven I thought I was adopted.
I wasn't.
But even though my mother showed me the pictures of her holding me in the hospital, I secretly wanted it to be a lie, because I didn't wan't to look like daddy when I grew up.
When I was five my father played with my Barbie dolls and I for hours
But now he doesn't
Now he spends money he doesn't have on clothing for me because that is all he can give me.
I guess his time with me isn't worth more than $200 pumps.




Love you daddy,

Charles Darnell

no.12

POP

some art is to entertain.

i try to sell my self,

and there lies the ultimate problem.

i may be provocative,

but there's no storytelling there.

no.11

live update: listening to Cockiness by Rhianna, look up from laptop and make eye contact with random male in class.

hi.

a letter to the boy sitting across from me

hello.


you've only talked to me like maybe three times, but I think i'm in love with you.


that was way too forward.
let me start over.

Hello,

    I know that secret admirer letters are really cliche, and for you I don't want to be cliche.
But I don't know what else to call this letter, so I apologize for being obvious. I guess I just really like the tailoring of your pants and I really like your art.
I look at your journal sometimes and the things you create are intense without trying too hard. You're honest and funny but you know when to push the knife into the wound a little deeper.



I like that.




   You walk with such confidence and you smile at all the right people, but if I look hard enough, I can see you hesitate before you step towards her. She brings you to your knees and you bow willingly.
You love her.
And I think she loves you too, but in a different way.
I guess that's why I'm writing this.
I guess I'm just saying that I can love you the same way you love her.
But you don't want me to, so I'm staying secret for you.

I guess this is where you quietly whisper "thank you" under your breath.

I'll shut up now. I've said enough.

But just remember that there is always someone out there who sees you, even though you don't always see them.

OK, that's it.

Bye.