Snapchat art island style.

(Source: surfandwrite)

21st century art by www.surfandwrite.tumblr.com #papernakinstories

I need to stop sending myself messages.

"I loved him but he was never mine to begin with. It wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t feel right either. We were simply meant to be not meant to be. We were meant to bump into and change each other’s lives; to make love, graffiti the sea, and create beautiful memories that would last longer than we would. Still, I loved him. I loved him."

Sade Andria Zabala (surfandwrite) | In Retrospect

(Please do not remove credit)

Insignificant;
I feel small. When will the light
come and wake me up?

- Sade Andria Zabala (surfandwrite) | A Haiku On Depression II

My heart is beating but I am not alive.

Surf and Write

Anonymous asked: Could you please post a link to the quote of yours written my someone in Sheffield, England? I'm curious as I live in Sheffield, I'd love to try and find where it's written (long shot I know)

No one has submitted anything new yet for the Word Travels project.

I have one from the US but have no motivation posting it.

I have gone through
boys, abuse, and heartbreak,
and being chewed up
and spat out, and bullying,
and my mother unwanting me but
I don’t know how to
survive myself.

- Sade Andria Zabala (surfandwrite) | I Don’t Know How To Get Through This

(Source: surfandwrite)

What is even the point of being alive?

Making money?

I don’t want to be surviving. I want to live.

Where am I supposed to go?

I feel like the only right thing to do is to swallow a bottle of pills.

My snapchat art is becoming blah.

(Source: surfandwrite)

Nothing sucks more than days when you keep realizing you’ll never be able to outrun your depression.

There are days when I still feel like jumping off a rooftop.

I’ve been chasing sunsets
for four seasons thinking
they would bring me home but
autumn will always be in
my vertebrae just as winter is
lodged like a bone in my throat.

Where do the people
who don’t know how to stay go?
Where are we supposed to make our home?

I told him,
“Teach me how to stay;
how to not leave people and places;
how to not keep leaving myself behind.”

But there are stars dying
in my chest and the light
in my blood is slowly fading.

I do not belong here.

-

Sade Andria Zabala (surfandwrite) | Chasing Sunsets

For the people who don’t know how to stay alive.

(Source: surfandwrite)

Help rebuild schools destroyed by Typhoon Haiyan

WHEREVER IN THE WORLD YOU ARE,

WHATEVER YOU’RE DOING,

HOWEVER OLD YOU ARE,

STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!!!!

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS NOT BEING ABLE TO HELP!

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Bantayan island is one of the islands in the Philippines devastated by Typhoon Haiyan. Until now, efforts are being made to help rebuild the lives of the people living there, especially the children.

Three years ago, you guys helped me raise $100 to donate to the victims of Typhoon Ondoy in my country. Almost a year before that, you guys raised more than $200 to be donated to the victims of the tsunami in Japan.

I’m here to ask for help again.

This year my volunteer/fundraising project is to help rebuild schools in Bantayan. Our goal is to reach $500, which is 20,000PhP or equivalent to making TWO classrooms.

Like before, I’ll be taking photographic evidence of the relief efforts. As well as printing out all your donations and all receipts of purchases of the goods/resources to keep track of the money.

(Click here to see photos of the 2011 typhoon Ondoy fundraiser)

Send your donations via PayPal to andy_boo82@yahoo.com

Even $5 helps!

You are gold. Do not
set yourself on fire to keep
other people warm.

- Sade Andria Zabala (surfandwrite) | A Haiku On Self-Love

(Source: surfandwrite, via surfandwrite)

July 2013
Hope crawled in my corpse. You taught me how to inhale before stealing my breath away.

August 2013
I didn’t know how to swim in water. So I swam bedsheets instead. It is hard to forget you in the morning. When they leave and I am naked, without a blanket to hide under in.

September 2013
Got high and we painted the ocean until it kissed the sky. Stayed up the entire night, stayed up the entire morning.

It isn’t so bad. Being alive.

October 2013
My best friend told me not to play with fire. I got flames tattooed on the back of my hand and burned myself to the ground.

I am not Helen of Troy. But this a war story. It isn’t romantic. I am devastating only myself.

November 2013
Dusk swallowed nostalgia and impregnated my limbs. Write for better days to come.

December 2013
December is still the loneliest month. But I have learned to run with wolves. I am leaving you behind. I am finally letting him go.

January 2014
Sunburn peeling. Claw marks bleeding. Human skin has stories etched into every scar. They will heal. I am healing. What a beautiful battle I’ve become.

February 2014
Woke up and it no longer hurts, saying your name.

I’m okay.

-

Sade Andria Zabala (surfandwrite) | 4 Months To Forgive You: Israel, 2 Months To Finally Fight For Myself

Journal entries 2013-2014. (Part 1 here)