a poem from each month of 2020

13 December 2020

keeping secrets

12 November 2020

I've kept secrets my entire life. Some people say that not telling the truth is the same thing as telling a lie, but I disagree. I think we all have to keep things to ourselves sometimes, it makes them more special that way. Maybe I keep secrets so that I never have to know what other people might think of me. I don't want their opinion on the things that are important to me incase they damage my fragile ego but I wonder if it's wrong to hide things sometimes. I wonder if people would want to know.


Lately with all this time I have at home, I've been working on artwork and I am more tempted than ever to share it. Not having to see people in person or experience their reaction is motivating in a way to pursue what I want. I'm used to storing my poems or songs or drawings or writings for the future incase I have the courage or opportunity to show them in a way that is meaningful but now everything is up in the air. The future is so uncertain that I'm tempted to just post on my Instagram for everyone I know to see and then hide my phone so I don't have to deal with the consequences. I'm jealous of other people who are able to put themselves out there so easily.

Sometimes I think that I only make art so I can receive praise and attention from other people. Someone I know posted one of my drawings and it got a lot of really good responses, I didn't know that other people cared about what I did. When I feel really alone I try to think about all of the people who know I exist and try to remind myself that they care. They care, I just wish I could speak to them.



The art I've posted online compared to the art that I haven't posted is proof that I don't do any of this for the attention. How can I think I'm vain when I keep everything a secret? When I put on more than a mask and hide more than my face, what does it mean when it feels like no one else really knows who you are? Maybe I'll get that same positive response again and it will mean everything. Maybe I'll put my heart out there because I've kept it inside for years and there will be no response at all, silence. Will the people who I think are cool, think I'm cool? Everything is so strange.

When I look at interviews of artists who I love, I am so thankful they decided to share their work. I am so thankful they had the courage. How can I compare myself to people like that? Am I a narcissist? What? If? I? Fail? Keeping secrets gets tiring after a while and with time they don't mean as much. I want to show other people the things I care about and use their reaction as proof that they care about me. I want your validation but I don't want to want it. If other people can put themselves out there why can't I? Why can't I?



XOXOXO

despite my flaws, I wish for the best

05 October 2020

One of my favorite things in the world is the "People Watchingseries on youtube and there's this particular episode about nostalgia that struck me and it talks about how people are always romanticizing the past. And it does feel that way, like pop culture is always trying to make us remember eras that we didn't even exist in and fondly think of things like high school when we were such completely different people. And I am definitely a person who likes to think about things after they are done because then I don't have to remember them for what they were. Every semester I get nostalgic about classes once they are over and immediately forget the late nights I was stressed and working on assignments. I hated carrying books and sitting in air conditioned rooms full of people who I probably have so much in common with but could never find the courage to talk to and yet I still missed it because I wanted to exist in that universe where I thought I knew what is right and where no one ever proved me wrong. 

the summer we stayed inside | a poem

28 September 2020

forget me not | a poem or a song

14 September 2020

© the velocity of heart. FCD.