Remnants of a Trip

It has been about two weeks since I came back from my trip.

Two weeks that I have had to adjust to the reality of my world. To the fact that everything is not always happy. To the fact that I cannot just hide my scars with English men and the trains of London.

Ever since I got back there hasn’t been a moment of peace. There have been moments of panic, sadness, anger, tired-ness and being shown by someone that I must not mean anything to them.

It has taken me so long to get anything done. Longer than it should, longer than it has in the past.

I have so many wants. I want to drop out of school and just work. I want to drop out of school and move somewhere where I do not know anyone. I want to leave the space in which I inhibit.

Everything is crashing down at once and I am at a loss at what to do. Everyone seems fine and I am breaking.


I have been out of the states for five days and will be coming back in nine days. So far this trip is great. A way to clear my mind of the responsibilities of my life back home.

It has been great to relax and do things without having to try to keep up with whatever reputation I have established for myself back home. It’s tiring always trying to do the “right” thing. So this trip is letting me do things I can’t back home.

So that’s a quick update. A more extensive one coming soon.


Addicted to the feeling of nothingness.
Addicted to numbness.
Wanting to feel something but too scared to take a chance.
Not wanting to feel too much that the end is unbearable.
Finding comfort in things that allow escape.
Constantly thinking of leaving this place.
Wanting to start somewhere new, where relationships haven’t been made.
Addicted to the thought of finding out who cares while I remain at arm’s length.
Addicted to not feeling, not saying “I love you”, not showing my true feelings.

What is Sadness?

After my run, I decided to give a call to someone who I had not spoken with in a while. I called them up and the phone rang two times before it went to voicemail. I assume the person saw my call and decided to not pick up. Now, there are many reasons why this person may not have picked up their phone, but me being who I am, I instantly thought that they do not want to talk to me. Ever. (As I am writing this entry, I do not know the actual reason and probably won’t know. I have to be okay with that).

That hurts.

Losing a parent at a young age makes you vulnerable and more afraid of people not wanting to be around you. Or, at least, that is what I feel is happening to me. I want to be wanted my someone. Sometimes it is hard to admit that because I am surrounded by people who take the “be your own woman, be independent” thing very seriously. But I want to be loved. I wanted to be needed and I want to need someone.

Since those are my wants. My strong desires. I try very hard to keep the relationships that I have. Maybe I try too hard. Perhaps I am too willing to text people and call people and ask them for a few minutes of their company because I yearn so much for love and the feeling of being wanted.

My biggest fear is ending up alone. I am sure that many people have this fear but I truly think that may be my fate. I want to be wanted and needed yet I cannot open up enough to let someone in. I am always guarded in the way I am and when I speak about my personal tragedy I am very vague. Vague enough so I can keep a part of myself for me only, but detailed enough so the person has a feeling of knowing me. This is sadness to me.

Sadness to me is not be confident enough to tell the world that I am broken and that I need help. Sadness is being deathly afraid of not being able to come home to someone who will just let me cry until I feel the need to not cry anymore.

Sadness is never ending to me. The sadness of losing my parent will always be with me and I fear that no one will want to understand or cannot understand.

Do Not Impress; An Introduction

This evening I was thinking of creating a blog. Something that is easy to use and can reach a big number of people. A place where I can be honest without the thought of being judged. Of course, I will be judged, but being judged by strangers is different than being judged by people you know. The people you know always think they know what’s best for you and can never just listen. I want this to be a place where people just listen to what I have to say. Even if no one is listening and I am writing to no audience at all.

I want to be anonymous. I do not want people to know who I am in regards to my name or face. I want people to get to know me through my words. I have always said I am better at writing out my thoughts than speaking my thoughts. Here is where you will see that rings true.

“Do Not Impress”. I picked this because it was the few ideas that I had that were not already taken. I chose it because I am not here to impress anyone. I am here to get things off my chest. I am here to be 100% honest. I am here to unapologetic.

I will use this blog to talk about my day To talk about what it is like being a black women in the United States. To talk about the beautiful flower I saw on the way to work and how it inspired me to write a poem. I will use this blog in anyway I see fit. I will use it to heal the many wounds I have. I will use it as an escape from my real life.

I am here for me and ironically, this online blog is proof of that.