Thoughts At 12AM

7:34PM

  I understand I always said writing at night is amazing. I lied...This is my diary damnit I can do whatever the hell I want. Watch your profanity. Sorry, shit. Anyways, so I have school tomorrow. And I'm not nervous. I hope I find me a someone.#lonelygang. I've always had this small philosophy. I think people talk to themselves because they're longing for someone to talk to them. I mean, yeah they may have friends; but they just understand their mind as many would think.

  That's my theory. So I read this new book, Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur, I have never read a book so beautiful and touching. If most boys (er, anybody at my school in general) they'd laugh of the imagery and be immature than what they already are. Literally. 

  If you want poetry to hit in the most deepest corner of your mind, (no I'm not taking about Lil Pump), read it. It's beautiful. I read when I read a specific part about fathers. I'll tell you the story. I was a baby when my birth father left me. After a few years of growing up and maturing, I wanted to see him. Then when I turned 13 years old...I did. 

  It wasn't easy though. I first looked at him and though why did you leave me? I loved you. And it was true, I did. My mother wasn't there though. You see as Latinos, we're not like the All-American family. We're...decent? I can't put it into such as aspect.  Anyways, he asked for a hug...I pushed him away. To this day I regret it...

  We only talked for about an hour, I was so angry. The rage that fell into place. But little did I know, there was a little junior me watching. I had a half-brother. He was my baby boy. At the time, I wanted to leave. As fast as possible. Maybe it was because I thought what had happened was a cycle. That he played me. Do it all over again to another woman. 

  I was fucking pissed. I left. I still regret it to this day. About a year and a half later, my father had died in a drive-by shooting. Leaving behind a fourteen year-old daughter and a four-year old baby boy. He was my blood, my roots, where I came from. 

 In the back of my head I thought, if it weren't for this guys sperm, I wouldn't be here. I attended the funeral. I looked at the man I said I didn't love, go into 5 feet of raw dirt. Ever since then I made a conclusion of sort. Funerals aren't for the dead...they're for the living.

  It's not a topic you bring out on Tinder dates, we don't talk about it.

  Anyways, I lost my rosy pink Vaseline and I'm throwing bitch fit over it. I think I was too attached because BTS used the exact brand. Forgive me if I'm apart of the ARMY. I love those hotass Koreans. Ladies and gentlemen I'm gonna crash. No suicidal thoughts intended. See you around. I've got education to hate at 7am in the morning. 

And the song of the night is...

Intro: Singularity by BTS V