Wake up.

I’m alive.


Brush my teeth.

Eyes so dull.

Spit with disdain.



With humanity, the universe,

Gods and life.







Not distracted.

No goals.

No ambition.

No will.

No fight.

No strength.

Not hopeful.




One constant thought.

One hounding feeling.

I’m alive.


-Ramona Arena 2016




So I died

The call came through

It’s over.



I’m not fun to be around.


I died.

He died.

4 hours apart.

Except I was still breathing.

I was pale.

He was yellow.

A streak of dried blood from his nose.

A streak of blood dripping from my freshly slit wrist.

He lay in sheets of white.

I lay in sheets of white.

It should have been me

They threw earth on.

  • Ramona Arena, 18th December 2015.



Para ti, Ramonita..

Mucho ruido y pocas nueces.

Hoy, el 14 Diciembre. Un años.

Donde es el dios?

Donde es nuestra vida?

Si, no hay rosa sin espinas.

Pero yo veo solo muerte para mi.

Todos es negro.


Paciencia – ja ja..

Amor – ja ja ja ja ja..

Disfruta nada, listilla Ramonita.

El corazón es ciego y estúpido.

Y para siempre es suyo.

– Ramona Arena. 14 December 2015.


I am depressed.

Life has failed me yet again.

Each time, I dusted the dirt

It threw at my face;

Stood up on my feet

Pushed myself

Back into the race.

But this time life wins.

I am firmly convinced

There is no God.

No mercy.

No respite.


Only one truth exists:

Good things don’t happen to good people,

They’re just given a mere glimpse of it.

Life dangles the sweetest carrot,

Finally offers a most promising bite

Only to take it away,

Smiling proudly.

I crumble

Into this wreck,

A morose being walking

With the stench of death.

No energy left to fight,

Only motivation to cry.

How I abhor myself.

I hate my life.

I cringe at my existence.

I’m dispicable and vile.

Congratulations life.

I hope you’re celebrating nice.



-Ramona Arena.

12 December 2015.

Death Song

Verse 1

I cannot wait to die

Biggest fool in the world am I

They call it a blessing

But I’ve been cursed with life.


When oh when am I ever gonna die?


Verse 2

I’ve never despised myself more than I do right now

I’ve never hated my strength more than I do right now

I’m such a waste of space

Can’t even take my own life.


When oh when am I ever gonna die?



Fuck this pain

I’ve had too much

Broken, cold

It’s beyond enough


Verse 3

Let bullets fill me up

I’m dead but my breath won’t stop

All I want is to die

Life’s a sadistic bitch, makes me cry


When oh when am I ever gonna die?





Friday, December 11th, 2015. Worst fucking, piece of shit day ever.

Ramona Arena.


She howls from within
She be screaming stop.
The tremors a magnitude 9.

Not a soul can feel it
She bursts lava
They point & shoot, it’s beauty defined.

Then they give lectures
And Ted Talks for
Inspiration. For
Motivation. For
Uplifting. These
Experts. These
‘I’m accomplished’ people. These
‘Know it all’ people. These
‘Achievers of success’ people. These
‘I’m up here talking; you’re down there listening’ people. These
I got 5 million likes people. These
I got 20 million hits people. These
Reflections of Gods.

Alien, alien
Dropped into this world.
Was this planet, the gutter of the universe
Into which rejected offspring of all planets lay dumped?

The orphan. Adopted. But why.
She be trying so hard to die.

The spell of strength
She’s been cursed with,
No prince can take from her side.

She be in trance paranoid
Kill me, just kill me.
Oh suicide. The only man left. Lost his hard on upon seeing her lust for him.
Then Twitter timelines burst
With claimed expert knowledge of him. And microbiology. And wall paint.
It’s the internet. Everything’s gotta be true.

Yes. She should be so lucky.
But the bomb killed them all, not her.
The children died of starvation, not her.
The guns misfired, pumping all but her.
Even the fuckin tsunami. Be taking it all. All but her.

Oh please. Bone and black.
Any expert analysis, you have?
Bring it. Attack.

To Bow Out.

Answers that I seek and want

Do their best to evade me

Another sunrise shows up

To taunt, humiliate me

My very existence

Is but a hollow drum

Broken strings

Warp a Gibsons perfect strum.



Pages in the midst of my lifes story,


Must we always finish each chapter

Or is it trivial paltriness

Market shares wouldn’t feel the plunge

Of a carefully crafted mess.

Unable to connect

Vacuous as death

Desperately floundering

Life, I’m bowing out of your test.