Domiel "Domi" De la Rosa's Questionnaire

I have a little studio apartment in San Francisco, where I live by myself with my cat Beelzebub. My parents helped secure it for me after I sold my house, so it's only been rented for a little less than a year. The complex itself is near the water and has a beautiful view of the city, which is especially lovely at night when the darkness blends the cityscape with the night sky and lights intermingle with the stars. My workplace is a 20 minute walk from home. I spent enough time as an apprentice here working under my best friend that I don't feel a desire to move elsewhere. 

I currently work at a nearby tattoo parlor. My best friend is the owner and was my mentor when I was starting out, but I've had my own room at the shop for years now and it's going fairly well. My appointments get pretty full most of the year (with the exception of summer, where the whole shop slows down- I don't recommend swimming and beach hopping with fresh tats anyway) and a majority of my pay gets split between bills, emergency funds and saving up for summer time. I do try to put any extra into spending funds for myself, but sometimes Bub needs a new sweater...or cat tree.

I have attended rallies and protests during my years of grieving. I was loud. I was aggressive. I was angry. And we were continuously ignored, fought against, and painted to be the villains. There is only so much battering someone can take before they finally snap. I just want to feel safe. Happy. My world was already taken from me, I don't have much else left to lose. I can't bring him back, but I can make them pay. 

I want the big people with the money and power to feel small. I want them to feel like ants when its my boot that finally crushes them. I will grind them to dust in the dirt, no matter the cost. And I will do it again and again until something clicks for the rest that remain.

I lost some very important people a few years ago. Life seemed to be going well, I was planning a wedding and a pregnancy reveal with my friends. We had a house that was filled with love. I was growing as an artist with the help of my friends. Everything was going great.

Life has a way of swinging really, really hard when things are going great. 

Our home was invaded by ICE. They took my friends and family away. People I love died in detainment. I am still struggling with the loss today, Bubs has been my rock through it all. I will never forgive those involved, and those who allowed this to happen.

Mia Delgado: she is my boss, my mentor, and my best friend. we originally met through Hector, since the two had briefly dated and remained friends afterwards. she has always been like a big sister to me, and is one of the last people from our friend group that I have contact with.

Mia is a short, 36 year old woman with long curly brown hair and dark brown eyes. she is also heavily tattooed and wears a lot of black. she isn't afraid to put someone in their place.

Pedro Ramirez: the twin brother of Diego, who kept in contact after they moved away. he's very shy and quiet, and has been taking up acting classes to help with his anxiety. he is the polar opposite of his brother who is struggling with anger, causing problems in his relationships, and refuses to talk with anyone about fixing things. Pedro is doing his best to be his rock, though a rock can only take so many hits before it finally breaks.

Pedro is 30, has short messy curls and a face full of freckles. he's got a taste for bland clothing that I never quite understood, and will religiously wear cargo shorts.

 Han Li: my apprentice at the shop. she taught me ASL and we exchange favorite shows from time to time. she's very sweet and has a lot of potential since she picks up new techniques very quickly. 

Li is a 19 year old woman with long black hair, brown eyes and round glasses. she always carries a sketchbook everywhere she goes, and often keeps a pencil tucked behind her ear. 

I come from a decently well off family- my father had his own company and my mother was an artist. I wouldn't say we were rich, but we had a cozy house in a nice neighborhood, we could afford food. Things were good. Dad was fairly absent when I was growing up since he had so many business trips and my mom stayed at home in her studio to work on exhibit pieces. I was allowed to hang out and help when I got older, and she helped me discover my love for art. They eventually got divorced and I don't really keep in contact anymore.

School was alright, I wasn't super popular and would often times hide in the stairwell with my friends to get high. We accepted that we didn't fit in and had no desire to. We were tight knit, getting into all sorts of trouble wherever we could. Hector was the dad friend of the group, and I guess I was like the mom. The group made bets on when we would start dating.

Things were nicer then.

To be in love is to take your first breath again, to feel the sun kiss your skin and bathe you in its warmth.

To feel the damp grass between your toes as your fingers stretch to the sky to knead the clouds.

To dance in the rain and feel the droplets on bare skin.

To create a chorus of genuine laughter, to bear witness to a smile that comes from the heart and says a silent "I love you".

To carry a piece of him, to come together and create something beautiful.

To be burdened with the weight of their love, the last remaining piece of their existence. 

To know that you cannot save them. 

To love is to know that everything you have will eventually be lost.

I loved him.

I still love him.