How Animals Eat Their Food

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The Everything to My Nothing

My Secret Confession

 

This journal is about a young guy I came to know when I was working at my first job. I just need to get this off my chest somehow, even if it's to an anonymous audience. I guess I’ve come to accept I’ve grown more than fond of him. I could never tell him how much my feelings have evolved, though, because I don’t want to ruin the delicate friendship I’ve managed to form with him. I don’t even know why I’m writing this right now. It’s foolish if not mundane and juvenile. It’s not like I’m planning on giving it to him. Heh, I could only imagine what would happen if he were to somehow see this someday. Knowing him, he’d read this and think I was the biggest corn in the world. Anyway, it’s official that he’s at least aware I’m into him. One night I kind of just blurted some of what was on my mind to him, and over text of all things. Over text. I deserve to be slapped. The fact he’s been so chilled out about it, though, amazes me. Most men would shy off or attempt to avoid something like that if they don’t return your feelings.

 

I guess you could say this is the “everything” to my “nothing”. The title of this blog comes from a conversation we had in the past, where I almost let something slip... and he called me out on it haha.

 

Him: Why? What’s everything? Hahaha.

Me: Oh… nothing, haha…

Him: Well, it’s obviously not nothing lmao

 

Again with the texting, I know. Sue me.

 

Well, he was right, as I’m sure he knew from the beginning. I've been told I wear my heart on my sleeve. I should just stab the bloody, beating thing. It’s had me thinking for awhile now what exactly that “something” was, however. I wish I could tell him to his face, but I would probably just embarrass myself—and maybe even him haha.

 

I still feel like a complete dumbass for having done it over text. I want so badly to tell him these things to his face, not hide behind text like a coward. It’s funny, I’ve never had issues expressing my thoughts to peoples’ faces before, but this is different. This is raw, pure emotions—emotions I’ve never felt before, mind you. We’ve had this conversation once before, but I was rushed and nervous, and there is no way I could possibly show him how I feel over text. Honestly, if he was the one to bring it up and ask me, I'd probably tell him, because it would be obvious I was lying if I said there was nothing on my mind lol. He'd see right through it.
 

It gets so bad to the point I loose sleep at night, because I can’t stop my mind from travelling to him when nothing else is around to distract me. I’m in deep, okay? Motherfucking knocked stupid. He may think he understands what I feel for him, and it makes sense for him to think it’s just a phase—a girl with a “crush”. Listen, I’ve had “crushes” and "infatuations" before, and this isn’t anything remotely close. Never before have I wanted to give someone everything—to put them before myself in every situation. Including life. The thought of him even being remotely unhappy bugs me. Hell, I saw him when his arm was hurt, and it was like he got shot, but in reality it was just some bad scrapes. It’s ridiculous, really. Sometimes I feel more like a mother than a lover.

 

I feel like a fucking idiot whenever I’m around him. It must be so obvious to everyone, I mean really. And then there are my friends that are always asking about him. A couple of them have even gone as far as to take my phone a couple times to text him while I was asleep or in the shower. Fricking idiots. And you know how I found out? Though HIM. The horrors. As usual, he was still chilled out and good-humored about it. He didn’t try to avoid me or anything, much to my appreciation. I guess, in a way, my friends did me a sort of favor there.

 

You know it’s come to the point I’m not even really interested in other guys? Honestly, I mean... I find other men attractive and all, but I have close to no interest in them intimately. I’ve been on a few dates, but it never turned into anything serious. It’s crazy. I just want to tell him to his face and let him know how deep I’m in, but I guess I have so much trouble because I’m afraid of losing him. Chasing him away.

 

I want to spend time with him, even if it’s just as friends, but I don’t know how to go about it. I feel like if I ask to hang out, he’ll feel like he either has to say yes, or he’ll get nervous because he thinks I’m just trying to make advances on him. The last thing I want to do is put pressure on the guy. But, Jeebus, all I want to do is get to know him in person rather than over the damn PHONE all the time. Maybe it’s just not meant to be, even as friends. I mean, I’m almost always the one that texts first, and it makes me feel like a bother, but I can’t last long without talking to him. I love our conversations, as meaningless as most of them are. What do I have to do to make him understand how much I want to be with him? Even if it’s just as friends?

 

Sometimes I feel like he sees me as a little teenager, and it frustrates the hell out of me. I realize I’m young, but mentally I am beyond my age. The main reason I don’t date a lot is because almost everyone in my age group annoys the living hell out of me. I’m not saying I’m in love, but never before have I felt such a strong attraction to someone. My mother seems to think I’m in love with him, but how could I be? I mean, I hardly even know the guy. We haven't even hung out yet.

 

I respect everything about him—from his slightly hard-assed personality right down to those ragged-ass Chuck T’s. I still don’t know him that well, and it may make me seem naïve, but already he has me hooked, and he doesn’t even know it.  Not really. No one has ever gotten a reaction from me like this before, as cliché as it may sound. Past infatuations feel like nothing compared to what I feel when around him. I often catch myself wondering how he’s doing or what he’s up to. It’s like I’m on drugs.

 

When I look at him, I see so much more than some guy with tattoos and gauges (even though I find that incredibly hot). I love his eyes. Cliché, yeah, yeah, but it’s fact. And his laugh. God, his laugh. I wish he would laugh more often. I’m going to be honest. When I first met him, he scared me a little haha. I’m not sure why, but I felt intimidated by him. I'm not usually one for beards either, but I don't mind it in the slightest on him. To this day, I don’t know what cause such a dramatic change in my views of him, but I guess it doesn’t matter.

 

I wish I could get to know him on a deeper level. As he once said, “knowing someone takes a bit more than likes and dislikes”, and I hardly know that much about him. Whenever I’m in Stoppy, my eyes will automatically flicker to the front to see if he’s working, and most of the time it’s without any thought. My brain just tells my eyes to look, like a natural reflex. I bet he’s caught the stupid smile I give him whenever we make eye contact. Sometimes I creep myself out lol, but I swear I'm not stalking him. I'm just pulled to him like a Goddamn magnet. Now, I’m not going to be that girl that’s all like “omg, we belong together.” Those chicks need to hold the hell up. Hell, most of them go on one date and are “in love”. Please, bitch. I’m not asking or hoping for anything. I just really wish we could be closer, friends or partners. Whichever.

 

To this day, I don’t really know what has me so attracted to him. I mean, I could probably come up with a list of things if he ever asked me, but there’s something deeper I can’t quite place my finger on. There was this one time I was having an unnaturally shitty day, and then my phone went off. When I looked down, I saw it was from him, and he was texting me about some stupid snake I found in my yard. Holy fire, it was like he’d handed me a handful of Prozac. My mood had literally gone from black to vomiting rainbows. I mean, what the hell? It’s a damn text! His smile is contagious. I’d take every hit, physical or mental, if it meant never seeing him upset or hurt. Even if all he needed was someone to confide in just to listen, I’d be there in a heartbeat.

 

I treasure every one of our conversations, short or long. Though, I’m sure he’s told others the same information, I feel privileged he was willing to share it with me as well. I’ve read through past texts that are so meaningless they should hold nothing spectacular to me. Yet as I read his responses, I cannot help the smile and occasional laugh that escapes me.

 

When I look at him, I don’t see a high school dropout. I see a guy that is working his ass off to make ends meet, and somehow he manages to keep his head up. God knows how. He's such a hard worker. I like that he’s a little rough around the edges, not too yielding or too inflexible. He sticks up for his beliefs, even when it means pissing off his friends in order to help someone that needs it. That is the character I admire. And he's honest. He doesn't bullshit, even if what he's saying can sound a bit rude to others. It makes me feel like I can trust him.

I don't care that he doesn't make a lot of money, and I could care less that he's a dropout. More than a few people have pointed that out and said I could do better, and it pisses me off. You shouldn't like someone based on their income or education. Hell, my grades aren't honors either, but that doesn't mean I'm a dumbass. Every time they try and point that BS out, I can always come back with twice as many good things about him, and that's what matters in my opinion. It pisses me off how easily people make judgments.

 

Damn, I feel like such a hopeless sap. I had planned to bury the emotions and move on. I’ve tried hard, but no matter how much I try to distract myself the feeling within me won’t die. It’s like he had his hand clenched around my heart and lungs. I knew how it would end before it even started. I knew he wouldn’t feel the same way. I really am a rambling mess. I can’t explain why it’s so hard to talk to him about this; I’m not usually this timid. We may not be lovers, holding hands, or exchanging “I love you’s”. I may not be his girl, but one thing’s for sure. When I find someone like him, I’ll make him mine.

 

If I could do anything for him, I would. If he ever felt unappreciated, I’d take his hand, wipe away his tears, take him for a walk and remind him how special he is. If I can just make everything fall where it should be, I would. If I could make life better for him, I would. All I know is that mine has been better because of him. I want to really let him know how I feel, but that could never be expressed through words. For now, it remains a written confession.



 

Kennedy

Little Kennedy <3

 

 

This little girl isn't little anymore, but she's still a sweetheart! She belongs to my friend Raquel, and she's a full diva just like her mama.

My Book: Forbidden (title pending)

Forbidden

 

Forbidden is book #1 of the series I have been working on for a little over two years now. I began writing it one summer evening after a particularly random design popped into my head. The design was supposed to be meant for a monster project I had been working on for an art class, but then I thought "Hey! That would make a great demon!" Haha, kind of a morbid thing to think about, I know, and I'm still not sure how the story idea came about.

 

I guess it started like this; I has always been into things like the paranormal or the bizarre, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I started writing a book with a storyline of the sort. The "monster" ended up, with a little tweaking, turning into the main demon in the plot, whose name (for now) has been chosen to be Lucan. Names and titles are still pending for this story. I won't get in too deep about the plot for now, but the book basically focuses on the powers of shadow and light. Or love and evil. It's hard to not make it sound like another vampire novel, and believe me I've read enough of them to make me blanch at the mere sight of the bloodsuckers. Forbidden is, in my opinion, not your typical vampire romance novel. There is definitely more violence and adult themes than what an audience would see in say Twilight.

 

Lucan is a demon. He does not look at Nevaeh (the main protagonist) for the first time and fall head over heels. Like every other demon, he wants to kill her, because that's just what demons do. What happens to change all that will remain a mystery for now, but I can promise you it's not an easy transition, especially for poor Nevaeh. The book focuses on the question a lot of people ask themselves every now and then; does true evil really exist? What scenarios can cause enemis to come together to fight a bigger force? Unlike most books and movies that show the haunting from the humans' perspectives, this book will venture into the point of view of the demons as well.

Rick Genest: Eye of the Beholder

Rick Genest aka Zombie Boy

Watch his interview on bullying. Don't let his appearance mislead you into thinking he's just another street punk. I have so much respect for this man. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LUSgUfNmKws

Butterfly Garden

Yellow Swallowtail Butterfly

 

I stumbled upon this little guy last summer while walking through a garden at a local nature sanctuary. I was sitting on an old Victorian bench, white paint chipping to reveal the rusted iron beneath, and surrounding it was flourishing bushes that were rich with roses, trumpet vine, and blue and pink morning glories. The vines had begun to tangle themselves in the holes of the metalwork in the bench's legs, and I had been sketching a rose bush in front of me when I caught a movement from the corner of my eye. When I looked, the butterfly was a mere foot away from me, and I could tell it had just recently emerged from it cocoon, because its wings were still a bit damp. It was a bit like a dream, really, with the endless colors and life surrounding the garden. It was a watercolor come to life. The vine bushes surrounding me were flourishing with Monarchs, yellow swallowtails, black swallowtails, and Painted Lady butterflies, and rabbits nibbled at the leaves of the plants. It saddens me that such pure life is becoming increasingly harder to come by.

Savannah

 

Savannah

 

A quick portrait I drew for my neighbor, Savannah.

 



©Tori P. Coelho

desireestorms@gmail.com

Time Flys

Time Flys

 



This is a tattoo design I drew for a good friend of mine. It will evenually become a back or chest piece, and I hope to add the actual skin tattoo on here eventually. As corny as it sounds, this tattoo is the reason we ever became friends, because this design started our first real conversation (laughs). I consider him one of the few people I can trust fully.

©Tori P. Coelho

 

If anyone wishes to contact me about designs, you can reach me at desireestorms@gmail.com

Evil Dead or Evil Dud?

Tori P. Coelho 4/12/2013

Evil Dead

Release Date: 2013

Starring: Jane Levy, Shiloh Fernandez, Jessica Lucas

Color

Horror, Thriller, Slasher

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

 

Your typical bloody, gory slasher film. The recent remake of Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead lacked originality and the key element to a horror movie--the horror. A quick synopsis of the film consists of a group of five people traveling to a rotted out cabin in the middle of nowhere in an attempt to rehabilitate the movie's main protagonist, Mia, from a drug addiction. However, a reeking stench lingering in the cabin leads the group's dog to find a hatch that leads to a basement, which so happens to be filled to the brim with dead, decomposing cat corpses. Nevertheless, unlike any sane mind, the group did not leave. Elicit--and at times explicit--roars of outrage and bitter disappointment of diehard fans filled the theatre.

 

Of course, the many obvious questions still lye to those who have seen the film. Why choose a desolate, rotting cabin in the middle of nowhere to treat a drug addict? Especially one as run-down, sketchy, and filthy as this? Also, why in the name of everything logical would Olivia, who verbally claims to be a registered nurse, have such a miniscule amount of medical supplies on her when she knew Mia failed to go cold turkey during her first attempt at quitting drugs?

 

Then there is the racher clichéd presentation of the fashion in which the film was shot. There was even a scene where the camera flipped to have the ground as the sky, and vice versa. If anyone has watched 2011's Cabin in the Woods, they would see the remarkable, and somewhat questionable, similarities between the two movies. Both films feature a group of five people traveling to a deserted, desolate cabin in some forest, where they discover a creepy, hidden basement. Both movies also feature the group finding a strange book with suspicious Latin phrases, and, like every cliché horror film, there's always that one group member that simply can't resist reading from the seemingly malevolent words. They always do this despite the warnings and protests given to them by the other group members, and the evil is released to rain mayhem upon the cast. Too bad the recent Evil Dead lacked the dry humor Cabin in the Woods managed to grasp. It may have had something going for it at that point other than gore. Honestly, how many times must we view people rip and saw their own extremities off before we willingly throw ourselves to the demon just to escape the repetitive and cliche plot?