Vent it out

It’s horrid to lie just to have this false image to others
when in fact, deep within the chasm of your skin, you know it’s only
pretensions. Why craft an artificial façade when you can be beautiful just
being you? 

 

I have been accused of being a bad daughter, the black
sheep, the rebel kid, selfish, stupid, maldita,
engrata, bastos, etc etc and all the repulsive terms you can think of that
otherwise delineate my being a brutally honest person. What’s wrong with doing
the things that will make your heart jump, your skin etched with goose bumps,
your soul all perked up, in exchange of void, trifling escapes that will
nonetheless be barren in the future.

 

I have done things with unbridled passion and ecstatic,
sickening fervor only because I honestly love doing them. Selfish to others I
suppose because it may seem beneficial only to me but what the heck, in the
long run, my ardor for the things I love to do will be strewn well to those within
the reach of my elated hands. As long as it’s of love and freedom, nothing is
wrong.

 

It’s dumb to keep proving something to other people because
first of all we are brought about in this cosmic space to share our real
strength, vehemence, intensity and craze and not act according to the say-so of
others. We are not stringed Pinocchio’s who’ll dance when spectators expect him
to dance. We are born with fat, slimy wiggling tubes that vastly encompass our
brains and we ought to let that function in order of our own will. The real
challenge is bringing out that nauseating throb in your gut and that familiar
beating of your heart and disperse them through your outlet. Vent it out. Hitler
was only born once and he died a long time ago, nobody’s dictating you now.

 

I am born to draw, write and be a critique to what I see is
not right. And I will let the people know. Spare me the raised eyebrows, I’ll
spare you none.

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