pointy knives

i spent the evening writing. a shoddy paragraph and a healthy journal entry. i've needed some downtime to bitch and whine on the page. i can feel my patience waning lately. i've spent a lot of time giving of myself and not doing enough to replenish my spirit. my muse is sulky and in quite a mood so i am doing my best to give her a chance (and some much needed space) to throw her temper tantrum. after a couple of hours she's finally subdued in the corner. still sulking but at least no longer coming at me with daggers. her knives are pointy. in the meantime, i've been listening to ben howard, city and colour, pearl & the beard, james bay, bon iver, the lumineers and daughter to keep me company while i try to extrapolate some coherent thoughts onto the page. i think i'm done for the night tho'. squeezed dry. tomorrow i will try for another shitty first draft.


All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2017 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

9:09 pm

woke up on the other side of okay.
tiny orchid on a ledge, burnt leaves
and dried roots. warm air skims in
lazy circles leaving me drowsy.
storm clouds gather in the distance.
she howls into a mic diving into a fall.
firecrackers echo in the streets.
a soul burning with wildfire
as the night sky lights up.

All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2017 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

mediocrity

i never wanted an ordinary life. i wanted more. i hungered for more. the problem with more is that what i have, at any given moment, is never enough. a face reflected in a window. i thought it was ambition, striving to be better than common mediocrity. perhaps it's just snobbery. perhaps i think i am better than...but that's a lie. sitting under the living room fan listening to city and colour play in the background, i am hungry. not for food. for more. i feel it down to the bones in my jaw. an ache. a void so deep it makes me wince...it creates a sharp pain that reminds me that what i'm doing is not enough. heat does not mix well with bone-crushing disappointment in one self.

All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2017 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.