ink scribbler

I know it’s over.
Look, I know it’s done.
But I can’t stop thinking about that Sunday we drove to pick up your paycheck in Chesnut hill.
You just finished training for your new job but you were in a temporary store and it was closer to me.
You were just running a quick errand but you pulled aside; took me with you.
And I fell out of bed, a fresh face with sleepy eyes running to your car.
And the music was so loud
Because your music is always so loud
And we laughed and we rolled the windows down.
Remember how last October it was 70 degrees all month until exactly Halloween? 
Remember how we were happy all of March until last week?
The Windows were down and the music was loud and we were smiling.
And I don’t remember the song or how the wind felt or if my hair got messy
But God, I remember that smile.
The goofy one with all the teeth showing but closed tight to hold back your laughter.
You always try to hold back your laughter.
My hope for you in life is to laugh without holding back.
May you meet someone one day who loosens your smile and sets your laughter free.
What a beautiful place the world will become then.
I only wish I had been a part of yours a little longer.
I’ll remember you in mine.
—  You were it.
A Love Like Wine

These elegant invitations for Paulo Sebastian and LeeAnne were inspired by the beautiful richness of wine. After all, like the best wine, love can only get better as time goes by (plus, red wine has always been associated with passion and romance!). The wine stains and spilled wine effect, as well as all the other details, was achieved using watercolor while gold stamping was used for the names and the map. A toast for Paulo and LeeAnne, whose love will surely only grow richer with the passage of time, just like the finest wine.

I’m wide eyed at 2am trying to find a metaphor for trying too hard
4 hours ago I realized I’ve been hiding in apologies for things I don’t want to be sorry about.
I am a girl but I am also a survival story
I am small but I am fist and muscle
I am pen in hand
I am song in throat
I am body but I am soul
I am temple
I am love in its most raw form
I am comfort and loyalty and passion
I am teeth and sunset and tidal wave
And I’m not sorry
I am not sorry.
—  Please accept my un-apology
I’m writing you to tell you that I’m okay.
I’m without you and I’m okay.
And the reason I want you to know is because
For a very long time I wasn’t okay.
For what seemed like an eternity I was not myself
I was nothing at all really.
I spent my days wasting time trying to make it all disappear.
But I don’t live like that now.
You had a hold on me like you were wrapped around my neck with a leash
And when you left it tightened and I couldn’t breathe.
I guess I’m writing to tell you that now I’m free.
Now I’m free.
—  you don’t hold me anymore and that’s fine. (Weshallprevail)
His kiss stung like a venom injection.
I was his prey before I knew it.
His lips tasted of fire and saltwater.
He had all the elements needed to create a whole world.
Every element but air, so he stole the breath from my lungs.
I thought he was the part of me I had been missing
Turns out he was just using me for the best ones I had.
But that venom he kissed into my system left me craving his affection.
He wasn’t the part of me I needed
He was the the person that tore all my parts to pieces.
—  you left me for dead. don’t kiss and kill. (Weshallprevail)
I had a dream about a future with you
About all the things that will never be
And it was lovely
There was a front yard and a big front door
There were flowers and every room smelled of fresh linens
There was fresh fruit on the tables
There were pictures in frames
And there were smiles that belonged to our beautiful children that will never exist
It was lovely
The dream was lovely
Then one by one I saw each piece of furniture turn to dust
I watched as we all started to dematerialize
I cried out and tried to sweep up all our pieces
But just as they had come apart they had disappeared
But it was so lovely
All the things we’ll never have
They were going to be so lovely.
—  it might’ve been a nightmare.
I don’t know why I’m writing you
Except that I’ve been writing a lot
And using Instagram less
And I remembered all the times you made me feel bad
Because I was always using my phone
To the point I felt guilty
Even having it out in front of you
Even having it with me at all
And I just realized how silly that was
Because if something in this cold dark world
Managed to lighten up my face
Why is that a bad thing?
Why should I feel bad about it?
I never should have.
I don’t anymore.
And I don’t know why I’m writing you
Except that you made sorry a reflex for me
Through most interactions I say it at least twice
So I guess I’m writing to tell you
That I’m not sorry anymore
And I take back all my sorry’s from before.
—  all my sorry’s. (Weshallprevail)
So one day you walk through your front door and your house doesn’t feel like home anymore.
You make your way to your bedroom and crawl into your bed and you look around trying to find things that will remind you of when everything was happy.
But you realize nothing has been happy here for a long time.
And suddenly you’re small and you’re crying in a corner of the living room because mommy and daddy won’t stop screaming at each other and they’re using you and your siblings as collateral and you feel like the pillars of your existence are ripping you in two.
And if it goes back that far and you can still feel it now you wonder how you ever had yourself convinced that this place was your oasis from the cryptic world around it.
So one day you walk through your front door and your house doesn’t feel like home anymore.
It’s just walls and floors and trapped air that’s low on oxygen and all you want to do is run.
—  where do you go when your house isn’t home? (Weshallprevail)
No one ever prepares you for that.
Throughout your childhood
You learn of love and they tell you
It will be the best thing ever.
But no one ever tells you that it will be the worst thing ever.
—  everything’s got a bad side.
There are roads you’ll never walk down again but it’s still nice to pass the street signs.
There are Windows you’ll never look out from once more but knowing they’re still there, holding in all those memories, it gives you peace.
There are hands that will never cradle yours like they used to, but knowing your finger prints left a mark on theirs, makes it okay.
—  there are stories you stop reading aloud, but it’s good to know you wrote it down.

“Do something new.”

That’s what I keep telling myself over and over. I guess we all need a breather, we have to seek ourselves by doing something unfamiliar.

July 25th, I was able to venture on a new hobby and it’s calligraphy! T’was a dream come true to finally meet the lovely lady behind Ink Scribbler, Alexis Ventura! I’ve been an avid reader and a follower for quite long. It amazes me everytime I visit her blog and instagram. She’s very creative.

It’s inspiring to see people who can honestly admit that they started from scratch. Now, it’s amazing how she can turn anything to a masterpiece. I wanna be like that, that’s always been my goal and right now I’m still on the learning process and/or discovery of what I’m really capable of.

Anyway, I thank Printcafe for being my sponsor that day. I cannot further explain the immense twist of fate happening lately. I’m in good hands and soon it’s gonna get better, I plan to return all the favor whole-heartedly. Life is good, really good. ♡

PS: Calligraphy’s not that easy though. I sucked at day 1. Hahaha!