Category Archives: some sort of crazy

Red and a Play

So, I’m a redhead now…

And I wrote a play that’s going to have a performance in NYC!!!

I have an amazing cast! And my better half is co-directing with me! It’s a dream come true honestly and I can’t believe so many of my friends, family, and coworkers are going to be joining me on my special night. I’m the luckiest duck. My mind is blown. ❤️

<<<
e never been so happy and nervous and grateful and excities…

Your friend,

Lourdi.

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Changes in a year

Exactly one year ago today I wrote out my suicide note. Most of my belongings had assigned future homes and I was begging everyone not to hate me for doing it. 

Loneliness is a fucking bitch. Heartache is crippling. Mental health is a serious matter. 

It’s been a year. 

My life is wonderful. There are some setbacks, but we just go with the flow. I’m happy. I’m madly in love. I’m humbled. I’m alive. 

I’m very thankful. 

A lot has happened in a year. In this year. I’m happy I stuck around to see it through. 

Your friend, 

Lourdi. 

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Ch-ch-ch-changes 

Once you’ve written your final goodbye…

Once your best friend tells you : ‘you go, I go’…

Once your bother won’t let go of you while your crying because he understands he’s the only thing keeping you grounded…

Once you realize it’ll never be the same…

Then what?

  
Your friend, lourdi. 

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Life is weird. 

I’ve been staying with my sister for two weeks after staying with my best friend and her family for almost three. Who cares why. Life is just weird like that. 

   
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
 

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It’s been a tick of the clock

  
tick

tick

tick

tock

tock

tock

tick

tock

goes

the clock.

I am a different version of myself than i was last year. Last year I was fearless. This year, well…

I am a different version of myself. I’m too tired to play games and my heart is too squishy to be worn on my sleeve.

I used to hide behind words. I said a lot of things I wanted to mean. I said a lot of things a lot of different people wanted to hear and that’s the sickest thing teeth can allow. Vibrations that travel up the throat and are pushed past the teeth into words that float into ears and into hearts and get trapped.

fuck.

manipulate words. we all manipulate words.

I need a bit more silence in my life. but when I do speak i need a stronger voice. i need to gather up different pieces of myself to create an updated lourdi.

I’m not proud of myself at the moment.

There are things.

There are words that have been said that I wish had been drowned before exiting my mouth. There are thoughts that i wish never would have left my head and traveled down to my fingers for eyes to read.

for someone who isn’t afraid of silence…

i sure have been filling the universe with some fluff.

I think i was trying out a different ‘me’. One that sort of said what was on her mind…ish? It’s not what people expect from me. It’s not what people want and well, while a part of me is like ‘fuck you, bye felicia’ another part of me is like…’i don’t think i want this from me either’.

i’m very torn.

and I’m so tired.

words. and words. and words. and words. and breaths. and beats. and-

shhhhh…

it’s going to be ok.

Take a deep breath.

Step away from the flames.

I don’t want to just fill the air with wasted words anymore,

I want to make the air worth breathing.

your friend,

lourdi.

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A little secret 

the reason why I always have a character that either tries to kill themself or successfully does so is because I hope that’ll be enough for me. 
As I get older, it’s getting harder to just create a new world to escape this one. I have too many responsibilities in this one. Too many bills to pay and too many people to disappoint. I used to just write and it’d make it all better but it’s a little harder than that. So in my 20s I started creating characters that were very simular to me. They’d have my struggles and sense of humor. My past and whatever else. I’d make them dark but lovable. Missable. Good people with damaged hearts. And I’d make you root for them and make it seem like everything was going to be ok…and then I’d kill them. I’d fall in love with them and hope that by killing them I’d be killing just a piece of me and that would be enough. I would never have to physically hurt myself bc losing them was enough. And it worked for a while. In my 20s. It got me through my twenties. But now I’m 31 and these feelings are right at the surface and I’m writing a story and the character is me and I just can’t hurt him. I can’t kill him. He needs a happy ending but the two of us can’t both survive. And that’s what I’m struggling with. 

  

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on nights like tonight

x
I really hate myself.

Not sure how I fucked up so bad. Who am I? Thefuck happened to me? I’m not a kid anymore and I just feel like I’ve let so many people down. So many special people that gave me a chance and I’m just…shitting on them. I hate me so much right now. I’ve never been more ashamed. Never.

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who is kris codey?

(when i write+write+write+write)
the lines, the lines of coke i do
i draw (the lines) just for you ---------- <--- there's one now!
i'll show you how!
and this is what you do: ----------

(tiny excerpt from Cellar Door by Me.)