(un)filtered

Page 1


do whatever you want to this: color it. a collaborative piece: i put energy and love to this zine, and i hope you will be a part of that process. this is a process of self-love > referencing photos of myself from the past - past versions of myself - acknowledging my own growth and transformations. a love letter to myself: a profession of love to you for being a part of my journey. dedicated to prominent spirits in my life, passing energies who have blessed me with traces of auras. (thank you.) i am absolutely in love with you. i am absolutely in love with me: the past, present, future. learning confidence of permanent markings. about my insecurities of face and intimacy - i face them fearlessly. to fulfill and nourish the self independently, appreciating the dependency of others for growth. ground self in art. fly in art. drown in art. let me repeat once more: i am absolutely in love with you. (thank you.)


if this space was a culmination of me, you would be the crosspaths shaping the way my heart grows. lines crissing // crossing, catching my pitfalls. thank you for letting me count on you. you are the constellations forever etched on my body. this is my love for you.



september 2010, i am sixteen and starving myself. you are sleeping somewhere downstairs. post-fight. i am sixteen and starving myself. you are eating through anger, while i am scared to eat, scared to weigh more and take up space. i don’t want to get in your way.


october 2011, you sacrificed your savings for my summer endeavors. that year, i traveled to california and new york. i wanted to leave you. forever. for the constant fear and emotional abuse. i smiled at my new friends, hiding the fact that my presence at those camps were not about learning, but escaping. (i became good at hiding.)


mama, you loved the world even when it didn’t love you back. you train goddess warriors. thank you for showing me strength.


sometimes, silence feels like a glass cage, drowning us from the divine.



december 2015, i visit la for the first time. maybe it’s the second... doesn’t matter. we are in relationship limbo. you are out of the country, working. i am traveling in mustard yellow, gagging at the whiplash of our love. i simultaneously want to hold you, vomit, hold. little did i know that one day i will realize that my love’s unconditional, but i am only human with finite energy sources.



















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