I have issues. It’s a fact that I’ve always had some or more at any given time within my life. Sometimes you have to leave it all behind-- all those dusty, wormy memories crawling throughout your brain. Somehow, everything just seems to be digging through your nerves and no matter how you try to look at things it all seems the same. Every feeling that ever converged within you, under your skin and in the veins that route around you, curls itself into little clumps.

My Name is Tuahine.
Native Hawaiian. Mother and Girlfriend
Buddhist.
Artist in sizee 5 shoes and a little insane.

And the truth is… 

I left it sitting on the top of my closet in a covered shoebox.
      and that’s why I don’t show any other feeling but anger.
Slowly, I’ve become part of the walls I closed myself up in.