amonsterra

[amonsterra]

[amonsterra]

of course I’ve fallen

but not from trembling heights that burned my skin (space)

but not too deep that I couldn’t

stand on these limbs ( ocean)

I’ve fallen but I’ve been able

to get back up on my own feet

and run.

[amonsterra]

— March 13, 1915 / Franz Kafka diaries

[amonsterra]

[amonsterra]

[amonsterra]

— March 13, 1915 / Franz Kafka diaries

[amonsterra]

a concert is a ritual. it’s thousands of people coming together to dance and get consumed by the music. it’s people expressing their utmost creativeness and authenticity. it’s people collectively feeling the rythm and lyrics rushing through their veins making them tingle in all the right places. concerts remind us of what we’re made of and what we are here for.

[amonsterra]

if someone put a gun to my head asking me to cut a hundred year old tree, I’d tell them to pull the trigger.

because then I will melt, my flesh and bones will merge with the tree’s roots. I’ll be food to worms and will finally be one with the earth.

I didn’t die. I grew. And became a hundred years old.

[amonsterra]

I love that the universe will still exist even if we didn’t. I love that plants will grow in malls, ivies will break through concrete, and the moon will still shine every night. I love that life will exist even if we ceast to. I love that the environment cannot be destroyed, it just becomes unliveable for us. We can try to tarnish it, burn its forests, murder its animals… but what we’re really doing is just killing ourselves.

The same way we think we hurt people when we say mean things, when we push them away, when we break their heart. But it’s us who lose them. It’s us who have no one. Us who die.

[amonsterra]

I think religion is cute… the same way I think everything is. It’s so human to want to believe, to hope, to pray, to worship, to belong. It’s so human to kneel before an altar, so human to cry for being electrified by a presence you cannot identify, and so human to want to feel it all again and again and again.

so human to want to be possessed by a holy ghost. so human to want acceptance but speak adamantly against it. so human to choose to be crucified for being human… and crucify others for it too. so human to want to make sense of everything to the point of limiting yourself. so human to blame everything to the one and only beast. so human to be killing each other while preaching love and peace.

[amonsterra]

I feel like a big big big water balloon and a bear clawed its way right through my chest. And can’t stop crying. I can’t stop crying. I can’t stop shaking. I can’t stop screaming.

after therapy session 2

was triggered by a grumpy old troll who haunted me as a child. She used to slap me and scare me and punish me for breathing. I thought I’m bigger than her now but one scream, one growl, I come running into my woods to cancel out the noise.

the child she hurt still lives inside me… and I weep for her. I wish I could’ve protected her before but couldn’t because well… I was her.

but now I can.

now I can.

[amonsterra]

[amonsterra]

[amonsterra]

I like talking. I love conversations. I appreciate it when people let me in their lives and I get to enter a little door only a few people know about. And when I step right in, it’s a secret garden.

I see people as their own entire galaxy and it’s such a privilege to be allowed to explore their world.

[amonsterra]

Anxiety

I feel so anxious. It’s not like I have not been here before. I have. But it still scares the shit out of me. I still feel like the grade 3 child crying before her morning classes. I still feel thing so deeply it’s electrocuting me, paralyzing me; bounding me to my bed out of fear of being ridiculed, looked down upon, and belittled. I feel like no one’s on my side, but at the same time, does anyone have to be when I did nothing wrong? I can’t apologize. I don’t want to. I can’t admit to something I didn’t do. I don’t like condescending people… but I know I was one. Is this karma? I apologize if I ever made anyone feel the anxiety I feel right now. I feel sick. It makes me nauseous. Will facing this kill me? It probably will not. But God I feel weak. I feel little. I feel like my heart’s gonna explode and no one would care until it does. I need therapy. My mind is a run on sentence than never puts a period on what she says unless I put her to sleep. My brain tells me I want to die. But I don’t want to want to die. I am gonna die anyways… but I’m tired. I hope people were kinder. I hope my mind becomes kinder. I hope I didn’t want to die over little things.

I don’t know why “small” things are so difficult for me but big things are always thrilling… makes me feel alive. I need help. I need someone to tell me they believe me, or on my side. I feel so lonely. I’m scared of falling in love. Because I get out of control… it gets out of control. And I don’t want to be needy… but believing this would be thinking mentally ill people canmt be in relationships, when they can. They deserve love as much as everybody else does.

I’m suicidal. Have I ever told you that? I want to die. I think if drowning myself while I enjoy surfing in the ocean. I laugh when buses almost hit me and I purposelessly (and unconsciously) sit on the door of a jeep so I die. It’s so difficult to be a hopeless romantic with a fear of love… or being hurt brcause of it. But I want it. I want it still. I’m gonna want it forever. I’ll have it.

[amonsterra]

Girl Pictures by Justine Kurland

[amonsterra]

organizing our lives and likes into specifically niched instagram accounts is an attempt at making ourselves bite-sized pieces to be consumed by our friends, family, and everyone who probably adores us.

when we all know we are not… bite-sized consumable pieces.

I know because there’s a whole universe rumbling inside my stomach and I swear I feel like I’m about to puke galaxy sometimes. and maybe if I shoot myself in the head, glitter will fall out. I feel like my veins are tree branches and my neurons are stardust electrocuting me in order to feel.

maybe I’ll live more if I don’t contain her.