#1800slayyyden-archive

[1800-slayyyden]

i’m just very girly pop you know

[1800-slayyyden]

my love is a worn-in book and candle light

my love is a soft hum under my breath

my love is tears shed in the embrace of the night

my love is an ashed out joint

my love is his hand on my thigh on the highway

my love

[1800-slayyyden]

this the year of burning bridges

[1800-slayyyden]

anyways back to my maneater it boy tease but never treat fantasy

[1800-slayyyden]

So here’s the thing about my love life…

God this post is long overdue, although in all fairness I’ve been trying to let things run their course before I actually spoke about it. Let me get right into it:

I’ve been fucking a married guy in a polyamorous relationship and my god has it been a rollercoaster.

How we met isn’t important, but it was back in February over Pride and I think a part of me was caught up in that whirlwind, and another part of me was obsessed with all the attention I was getting. In my defence, when guys you just met are asking you to marry you it tends to inflate the ego. a lot.

Fast forward 3 months of hooking up, and a couple dates and a lot of texting and i’m invested at this point right. At the very least I can admit that I care about him…but not more than I care about myself.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s such a sweetie. He drives me home and makes sure I’m fed, he always hypes me up and he doesn’t treat me like i’m just some twink to get off with. I like that we’re both free to fuck other people as we like, and we don’t owe each other any explanations or loyalties.

But the facade? the air of casualness started to ache. He’s older than me, with a stable life and stable partners and for fucks sake bitch i’m only 21 i’ve got no idea what i’m doing. Right now i need someone on my level, someone I can just. figure shit out with. and maybe it’s not him.

I care about him, and I’m grateful for a lot because i’ve learnt so much from this situationship but like I wanna be selfish…I want someone who’s mine and I am his

still gonna fuck him tho! baby has needs 🫶🏼

[1800-slayyyden]

sorry daddy baby was a hellraiser

[1800-slayyyden]

just one word from you and i’m all out of reasons

wakin up, makin up for the lost time

just one word from you and i’m no longer breathin

close the door, i’ve been yours for the longest time

[1800-slayyyden]

hate to see a maybe drift into a no

[1800-slayyyden]

i get off on getting hurt

[1800-slayyyden]

i post one pic and got bitches callin me baby

[1800-slayyyden]

Happy Valentine's- *GUNSHOT*

For as much as I've bitched and moaned about being bitter and single today, there's something very refreshing about it being another Tuesday in February.

And despite the day having it's own trials and tribulations, it was quite frankly refreshing to allow my love life to take a backseat this year and not beat myself up for not partaking in the celebrations. I didn't wish anyone a Happy Valentine's Day this year. (besides a couple family members, they're the only ones who deserved it haha)

I have an intense desire to love and to be loved, often times in ways that are all-consuming and possibly destructive. Even simple crushes somehow manage to rob me of my sanity and I find myself intensely pining over boys who don't really understand me.

Other times I let myself be seen as a sex symbol of some kind, or a manic pixie dream boy that they can project their fantasies on. I get an odd feeling of fulfilment knowing that I can match somebody's vibe perfectly and make them happy, even if it's at the cost of my own happiness.

Maybe it's just a defence mechanism to stop myself from getting hurt by putting up walls so high they can't be reached. That's not to say that my sexuality and relationship with sex isn't an integral part of my personality, to the contrary actually. My sexuality is just one of the forms of my own expression, as you'll often see by the content on this blog. But it's not my entirety. I, like any other human, contain multitudes. And the older I get, the more I find that the guys I encounter aren't emotionally mature enough to grasp that concept. A lot of the time it feels like I'm being put into a box that fits their preconceived notions of me. It shatters their illusions. Hahahahah. And then they wonder why I seem disinterested after a couple weeks.

Regardless, I digress. I've never had a good Valentine's Day. Even when I was in a relationship, we only celebrated at my behest. And the effort that I put in has never been matched. Single or taken, I always felt like an afterthought on VDAY, an obligation to be taken care of rather than someone to be celebrated or cherished. Perhaps that's just my own perspective, but more importantly that is how I felt. I've been unlucky in love.

I don't lose faith though! I still believe in love. platonic, romantic and otherwise. There's a conversation between Emma Frost and Dani Moonstar in X-Factor where Emma questions why she continues to be hurt and Dani offers a very simple yet powerful answer.

She is hurt because she cares. and because she loves relentlessly, the kind of selfless love that comes unconditionally because she cares for the good of another person more than herself. I've never had the best role models when it comes to love, but if there was ever a love that I strove to emulate it would be that.

The unconditional, supportive love that everyone spends their life searching for. Perhaps if we all treated each other like that, we wouldn't spend so much of our lives searching for it. I can't believe these are sober thoughts.

P.S. I'm halfway through Desire, I Want To Turn Into You by Caroline Polachek. It's an indie pop fever dream that builds very elegantly off her previous bodies of works and the singles that she's released so far. I enjoy it a lot hahah. If I ever come back and re-read this, how did the album age?? Was it that kind that I never touched again? or did it define this next era of life? I guess I'll find out.

Happy Valentine's Day! <3 (no gunshots)

[1800-slayyyden]

Growing Pains

There's a lot on my mind. I've never been prone to journalling, and all previous attempts to journal out my thoughts have been drowned in empty moleskines and an inability to commit to the process. I don't think I enjoy the sight of my own handwriting, nor do I enjoy my hand's inability to keep up with the rapid pace of my thoughts.

Typing, on the other hand, might be the key I was looking for. If this blog truly is meant to be a reflection of myself, a little nook on the internet that reflects the inner workings of my mind, it's only fitting that I inject some substance into it. After all, I'd hate for my only lasting legacy to be a shallow and carefully curated facade.

I titled this post Growing Pains, for lack of a better word. My world is rapidly shifting around me and at times I find it hard to keep up. Understanding myself and my mental health at this present moment is a challenge upon itself. Articulating the millions of emotions and opinions that race through my mind at any given second into a logical sentence even more so. Add peer pressure, social media and long-term planning into the mix and I'm left with a volatile cocktail that seems prone to futility.

I spend a lot of time lamenting on the past or pondering the future. It's hard to stay present in the moment, and even harder for me to slow down enough that I'm able to just enjoy things as they are. Well, unless I've been smoking heavily. Then the thoughts stop, but the depression swells and the cycle must repeat itself once more.

I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do with my life. Where I want to be, Who I want to be and what I want to leave behind when I'm gone. I've been thinking a lot about the influences that brought me to this point in life, the thing's that have shaped me and the trauma that changed me. In my desire to fit in, it's easy to lose myself. Some would call this degree of introspection narcissism and perhaps I'm inclined to agree with them. Then again, I've never been one to care about the labels others have prescribed to myself.

I want to be a force of GOOD in this world. I have been blessed with education and compassion, built on the backs of sacrifices of my family. I feel the pressure to do them proud. I feel even more pressure to make myself proud. My therapist would probably say that I'm caught in the lens of my own magnifying glass once again. I want to make the world a better place. I want to leave it in better shape then I arrived in it, and I want to make it a place where people don't have to suffer through what I have been through.

Simultaneously, somehow, I also want to enjoy the world for what it is. I want to experience life to it's fullest and there is no experience that I want to be deprived of. Sometimes I find it hard to make sense of how I can want both of these things, and how I can have both of these things.

Career wise, my heart tells me to go into politics. my brain, quite frankly agrees. It makes sense, I'm studying both law and social and political sciences.. It puts me in the position to improve the world on a wider scale. It gives me the power to fight for the vulnerable, for the marginalised, for the little guy. It gives me the opportunity to fight for the people like me, so that they don't have to go through the same struggles that I went through. It's the decision and the choice that makes sense.

And yet I hesitate. That level of scrutiny scares me. The thought of failure scares me. And don't even get me started on the odds of being able to financially support myself. What good is living a lavish life off a politician's salary if I'm unable to support the people who I'm trying to fight for.

Am I even ready to fight for someone else? There's still so much I don't know, so much I've yet to encounter and yet to understand. I'm only 21 for gods sake. And yet so many around me seem to have their entire lives figured out, or more likely are much more convincing at believing they do.

I haven't even found family yet. I don't believe myself to be a well-rounded enough individual to commit to a career, to commit to the career that I want. There's more learning to be done. There's more life to be lived. How can I fight for someone else when I'm losing my own battles against myself?

Maybe my desire to fight for others like me, others who have suffered at the hands of oppression and prejudice, is why the X-Men are my favourite superheroes haha. Maybe these are all questions for a more wiser, a more lived me.

Maybe for now there is some comfort to be found in fighting for myself, so that later I can fight for others. I wish to learn Spanish, and return to Spain and Portugal and New York, foster homes where I felt more alive than ever before. And I wish to learn how to play the guitar and learn how to dj so I can appreciate the music that is so dear to me as both artist and consumer, a dimension that I've never wholly touched.

Maybe for now, until I'm through with these growing pains and that stupid frontal lobe of mine has fully developed, the little things will be enough.

God I need to smoke hahaha.