𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬

I should know better. To be a fool is one thing...but to be a fool and expect love? Tragic. And just like that, square one has returned. Guard up. Hopes limited and neither sad or angry this time. To wish is to be left hopeless, to dream is to be hurt; and hurt? That's life. Expect nothing and everything.

You may find me to be the candidate for dos and don'ts. I can unravel with the times and wind up when the sun rises...

Even my own eyes cannot recognize me sometimes... that's okay. I like being mysterious. I beat with old blood. Bad, contaminated, drug-infused blood. But it's still blood...and I still am human.

In fact, the thing that scares me is not what I do, but what I like. I'm your typical punk girl with tattoos and a pouty face. Dark, right? But believe me, I am light. I am an enigma. I am a phase...I am human.

—Is just a distinctive time in thought? Is the mind prone towards becoming disturbed when the physical exerts more motion? The past tends to re-locate in mental constructs, intensifying and generating dreadful interpretations of what hasn't happened. Then, is there a time constraint? Is there a set amount of time that the mind should be still? It's possible that the body needs more time than usual to soothe. When the balance of the intellect is off, the soul becomes agitated and annoyed. fractured, hampered, and tumbling into the achingly complex routine. It throbs. There is never an anguish in the soul for what is—only for what wasn't.

The weekend—

II. —Solo—

“You’re getting something else over it?” Julia asked, her face was contorted in concern as her voice was laced with disbelief.

Angelina nodded as she sat in the backseat of the car criss-cross with her journal prompted on her lap. The girls had been talking about various things. More particularly, the next few days of Angelina's schedule. Cristofer put off filming due to the confusion and frustration derived from traveling from New York to Philadelphia - there was trouble transporting filming equipment. Angelina enjoyed the fluidity and breaks between filming.

Again, the topic turned into the “wild” stuff Angelina had been dabbling in. Though, she couldn't exactly lable it as ‘wild’ when all she did was get two new tattoos. Slip-shot ones at that. Initially, Angelina's tattoo was to be completed in the Netherlands. She had a nitch now to travel-she was itching to be anywhere but where she was. But just like the filming, it had been cancelled. Nothing to worry about-she hired an artist.

Julia looked over her glasses peering at the almost fading in colour, brunette. “You really had that guy tat you, in the back of his car? Needles and everything?”

“Mhmm,” Angelina answered as she flipped through her journal. Some pages felt damp to the touch; signaling she had just written on them...more or less scribbled too.

Julia was stunned when Angelina told her how her dragon tattoo was done. It was not so much that Angelina got it in such an insensitive place, but rather where, the tattooist had done it. In the back seat of his car! The women had traded sentiments of bubbling fun nitpicking jabs—in which Julia had grilled Angelina in a questioning manner if she had been high at the time.

“Well yeah... How else do you think I stayed calm?” Angelina laughed giving a callus shrug.

Her need, the burning intensity to just say 'fuck it!' and get the tattoos was evident that night. It hurt, and the close body heat between her and the artist was above her comfort zone. It didn't matter though; She felt like she was trapped, too confined, too small right now. Is this what would happen every time the end of filming approaches? Angelina had been wondering that for a couple of days now. She didn't forget that under her pillow, at home, laid Lisa Rowe. Scripts itself were like a hot portal into the next character, next personality she would be exposed to. Or rather, it was like a hot piston digging into her body. Is that why she was on the edge of running? Wanting to get pricked and drawn on?

Angelina twisted her lips in a puckering motion as she let these dragged and explosive thoughts filter in and out of her mind. Her eyes were on Julia but she couldn't hear or understand what she was saying—she knew she was saying something because her lips were moving. While she delved deeper into her thoughts, Angelina felt her conscience slipping. What was truly happening to her? Not in the moment, but inside of her. Why did she store the script under the pillow, like a dirty little Playboy magazine? Why was she still insistent on getting a tattoo?

With a few slow blinks she raised a hand to her head touching the messy bun of hair. Almost like a reassurance that she was still here, still alive, she tugged at the hair on her head and let out a low chuckle. Julia had turned fully in her seat facing the correct position; done speaking, Angelina guessed. It was almost like the ride was going on forever—she'd lost track of where they were going. Next to her were the roses that the tattoo artist had given her. They were wilting now; it seems like she was wilting as well. That thought alone caused a bit of a creepy smile to curl her naturally pouty lips—yeah, maybe she was wilting...changing, adapting. It could all be into something she'd look back on and be proud of. Maybe, maybe, that's why she wanted new tattoos, maybe that's why she found herself recording everything into her journal, maybe that's why Lisa Rowe frightened her so. Maybe. Maybe was always a bright side.

𝐸𝑚𝑏𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠, 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝒉 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐𝒉𝑒𝑠.

𝐻𝑖𝑔𝒉 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠, 𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒.

𝐻𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝒉𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.

𝒉𝑖𝑔𝒉 𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑐𝒉. 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝐵𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑏𝑠 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐𝒉.

𝐿𝑖𝑝𝑠 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑, 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝑡𝒉𝑜𝑢𝑔𝒉𝑡𝑠.

𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑦 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒.

𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒.

Daily Affirmation ♡

𝑀𝑦 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑢𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑖𝑐 𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑑. 𝐴 𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑝 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑠. 𝐿𝑒𝑡'𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟. 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑢𝑛𝒉𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑. 𝑌𝑒𝑎𝒉, 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑. 𝑆𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑡'𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝒉𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡. 𝐼 𝑎𝑚... 𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑑? 𝐷𝑖𝑑 𝐼 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒? 𝑁𝑜𝑝𝑒. 𝐴𝒉, 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝒉. 𝑌𝑒𝑎𝒉, 𝐼'𝑚 𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑑. 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑏𝑦 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑐.