Expectation / Reality

Color.

Life has a way of putting you through the wringer and back. To the extent that your vision becomes clouded by haziness. You stop looking for an excuse to look for color and become fixated on the dreary and the drab. All color is, is an excuse to burn brightly into happiness. When all you want to do is sink beneath the depths of darkness. Becoming emotionally attached to colors so dark that it would burn a hole straight to your soul. When you’re hurting all you want is for the world to mimic your same emotion. Become a backdrop to your own misery. Transitioning from the grays to slates and into the dark black night sky. Those are all the colors you want to see. Something emotionally profound that only your broken soul could understand.

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Its the darkness with it’s smoke and mirrors. Illusions causing reflections of our own inner sadness that transcends into our waking day. This storm setting of overcast skies that causes everything to read in black and white. My soul only understands the darkness. The darkness that harbors my sadness better than I ever could. I’ve had my fair share of misery. I’ve basked in the glory of my own self pity and darkness. All I wanted to see was everything in dark tragic colors. It became my only way to communicate to the world. Through my own self reflections, I wanted my outsides to reflect my insides. To purge out my pain with the darkest of colors I could think of. Not an ounce of color. Not even a single strand. My vision sees the color but my thoughts only see in black and white and grays and slates.

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Pain has a way of chipping away at the things that you love the most. Turning everything you once loved into an array of things you start to despise. You could point the blame on everyone but find yourself blaming yourself for your own unhappiness. This hurt that suffocates and squeezes at your insides and takes away any ounce of light. Its the light that you reach out for to save you from this darkness. The light that can turn the dark skies brightly shined by the moonlight. The light that can illuminate a thousand stars to lead you home. When you’re ready to change, the colors start coming to you slowly. First you watch the stars illuminate your path and realize that the sky as black as night is really a darkest shade of blue. When you wake you start to notice the flowers start to bloom and you watch the colors they have been hibernating inside. As your sadness starts chipping away you start embracing the colors that surround you. You look forward to sunrises and sunsets. You start looking forward to daylight as you once looked forward to the night.

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You start screaming away the pain in color. Screaming out the vibrant blues and vivid greens. Reaching out to touch the colors just as they were painted for you to see. You start to wonder what was so great about sadness. What harbored all this darkness that made you pay no mind to the color that you see before you. Most days are longer than others. Most days you wrap yourself up with different shades of the colors from your memory and other days you can’t seem to cooperate with the daylight. Some days are easier than others. Some days you wake up and fill your heart with every pure emotion you feel. You project your outsides just as you feel your insides with a vibrancy of color that you feel. Other days you watch yourself strip away the color and return to the darkness that you harbored so carefully. But its no longer a burden for you. Its no longer something you keep trapped away for no one to see. Instead you start to realize that stars can’t shine without a little darkness. Days aren’t suppose to be easy but eventually one day you’ll understand everything.

Everything starts with a little color. Color blooming from every corner of your atmosphere. Some days are better than others. Some days get harder but eventually one day you’ll be okay. The colors will always be there to guide you home. Guiding your darkest days into the light. You just have to see it illuminate your way. You’ll get there.

I promise.

 

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Haters gonna hate.

Negative influences tend to produce negative judgments. As much as we want to be immune to the world, influences find a way to us. It’s in everything we do. Everything that we like. Everything that we strive for ourselves. Life has a funny way of showing us who we really are when we need to see it. Showing our true colors to the world that we seldom see in ourselves. None of us is perfect. None of us have the power to change people. More importantly we can’t continue to blame other people for our mistakes. A lot of us need to own up to our imperfections and find our own way to be happy.

Hate is a strong world. But I can’t help but say it often. There’s no mistaken that I am a hater. I have hated on various people, places and things. I have projected my own anger into hate all for the sake of making myself feel better about my actions. I am not innocent in the ways that I go about my hate, I am not slick and I am not silent. Does it make me feel better? Of course not. Does it make me better than the next person? Not at all. Justifying my hate is pushing the blame on outside forces instead of putting the blame on myself. Because saying exactly how I feel doesn’t hurt anyone, it just allows my insecurities to work in over drive. I have been my own crown of thorns, so to speak. I have found way to hate so many aspects of myself and project them to people. Blaming other people for my own short comings and believing it was the cards that I was being dealt. Because Life has a way of giving me a shitty deal of cards. Giving me all the hard roads, life lessons, and watching people come and go as they please. All of my hardships, all of my misfortunes, all of my short comings, and the only thing I can do is hate everything. I could blame everything under the sun for the way I am. I could blame every last person that has hurt me. I could but at the end of the day I am the one that ends up miserable and alone. It’s when you find yourself growing up that you realize that there are things inside of you that needs to change.

When you reach that point in your life where “enough is enough”, you just have to let it happen. I am tired. I am exhausted. More importantly I am emotionally drained from keeping all this hate inside. Who cares if people have it better than I do. Why should I care if the grass is greener on the other side. Who am I to judge a person based on my own insecurities. I have no right to pick apart a person and point out their flaws. I wouldn’t want the same to happen to me, why should I be the person to do that to other people? Growing up means having to give up our childish juvenile ways. Give up the ways of believing that we are better than everyone and have a right to say exactly how we feel. Truth is nobody is better than anyone, and saying exactly how we feel often hurts people we truly care about. I have said many things out of anger and most of those things I wish I could take back. Nobody said growing up was easy and at times I can’t help but say things I know I shouldn’t. However, at this point in my life I am through hating. I can’t keep these tarnished ways inside of my heart any longer. I can’t keep blaming people for my own foolish mistakes. I have to forgive people and the actions that have hurt me in order to grow up.

Life isn’t suppose to be fair. Life isn’t suppose to be easy. Life is just suppose to be life, give or take what we put into it. Life puts us through the wringer and makes us stronger. We are the masters of our own life vessels. We are what we put into the world. If we continue to put out negativity, negativity is what we are going to receive. I am tired of hating people for my own short comings. Tired of treating people based on my own insecurities. We are all scared, we are all insecure in our ways, why should I treat anyone differently? At the end of the day I just want to be happy with my life decisions not upset about the way I reacted. I want to be able to go to my grave peacefully without an ounce of hate in my heart. People are not always going to be how I want them to be. People are going to let you down but at the end of the day you have to be able to let it go. Letting go of the past is the only way we can move on in our present, its the only way we can be happy in our future. My past can’t hurt me anymore but the longer I keep this hate the longer it marinates in my present.

Growing up isn’t easy. Everything I thought I knew before becomes life lessons I never expected. Life has a funny way of showing you errors in your ways. For me it was showing me that as much as I kept all this hate, it wasn’t making me feel better. I just hope by the time I feel like a grown up this growing up thing starts to make sense. As much as I don’t feel like a grown up, maybe this is what growing up really is. I guess in a way this is me growing up and feeling more like a grown up.

Go your own way.

I am a selfish person.

For my own selfish reasons, I believe people to be exactly how I went them to be. Because of my own imperfections, I place people upon this pedestal and expect so much from them. Since I have my own troubles, I expect people to be the opposite. In some twisted way, I want everyone to be there when I need them to be. Because it’s all about me, my needs, and what I want. We are all a little selfish sometimes, why should I be any different?

For the past couple of years, I have invested all my time in people. Watching them shape and grow up into remarkable grown ups. I have poured my heart out to these people and watched my life fall apart in the shambles. Every single one of us has imperfections, but sometimes I wish we were all perfect. None of us is equipped with ammo to save each of ourselves from ourselves. I can’t help but want to believe in these expectations I have of people. That everyone is untouchable, strong, and can do anything they set their minds to. That inside each of us lies a super hero capable of anything and everything. More importantly, I need these people to save me, help me, be there for me. Me, me, me.  Most days I believe that but sometimes our emotions and realities get the best of all of us.

We are all incapable of making any mistakes. We are all perfect beings. Because I am a crazy person, I believe that. Every word of that. Perfect beings incapable of doing any wrong because thats how bizarre bat-shit crazy I am. Perfect in every which way I want you to be. It’s weird how things in your mind tend to come out different in real life. Our day dreams are not as real as our reality, I suppose. Eventually chips start to form in their armor. The pedestals for which they have been held upon start to crumble. As much as I want to fight for perfection, all of our imperfections seem to shine through. I get angry, I curse the skies, and curse the beings I have before me. These are the people that aren’t suppose to have dents in their armor. These are the people that are suppose to remain cool and carefree and take over the world. The more I shout to the heavens the more I tend to look at myself. All the time I have spent on others and nothing to show for my own imperfect ways.

I become angry for all the wrong reasons. I begin to hate everyone. I alienate myself from so many people all the sake of everyone not being who I want them to be. All because of my own perception of perfection, believing that everyone else has to be exactly who I want them to be. I am juvenile, I am childish, and more importantly I am crazy. Who am I to judge anyone for their actions? Who am I to point out the flaws of other people, when I have spent a lifetime correcting all my flaws. Who am I to tell people what they should be doing, when I should be focusing on my own life? Growing up means letting go of all these childish ways of thinking. Letting go of this perception of perfect. Letting go of people and allowing them to find the super hero inside of themselves. Instead of searching for perfection in other people I need to start embracing the imperfections in myself. Finding the loveliness in everything instead of pointing out the flaws I can never correct.

I am not perfect and neither is anyone else. All the imperfections I embrace in myself, I have to embrace in other people. I can’t become angry for people living their lives the way they want to live it. I can’t be angry for everyone’s mistakes. I need to stop being selfish expecting people to be what I want them to be. We are all human beings making mistakes and living life. If I can embrace the flaws in myself, I need to be able to embrace the flaws in others. The world is filled with beautiful amazing people and not any one of them is perfect. I will never be perfect and neither will you.

5/15/2013

 

If there was a way to apologize for my way of thinking, I would do just that. My insecurities caused my beliefs in this level of perfection. Treat people and be angry with people for all the wrong reasons. I am sorry for hurting anyone for my past ways, sorry for expecting too much from people, sorry for believing that people could be exactly how I want them to be. 6/2/2015

Through being Cool.

You are so Cool.

At least thats what you want everyone else to believe. That everything that you snicker and make snide comments about make you superior to every species on the planet. Because its your opinion that matters over every one else’s. We all want to be better than everyone else. Degrade the masses with subliminal messages. Show everyone just what we are all made of. Made up of materialistic every day things, that will make us better than everyone else. We go out of our way to find these special things just to prove we had it first. Being cool means you have everything and know everything, because that’s what makes you special.

Of course you’re special, you’re so cool.

Its the shoes that we buy that make us who we are. Its the clothes we wear that shape our self esteem. Its the cars we drive, the homes we live in, and our lifestyles that set us apart from everyone else. Because we are the cool ones that show off our material things that makes us so cool. We are whats new and great in the world and it makes us better than everyone else.  Its our status symbols upon status symbols that prove that we have truly made it. All materialism is just stuff that makes us feel superior to everyone else. Sure you find the coolest bands, the coolest clothes, know all the coolest places, but that just makes you in the know that doesn’t make you any cooler. We are a generation of needing to be somebodies when we are really complete nobodies.

But I need the hottest shoes, the dopest bag, and to drive the sickest car. I need a lifetime of “I am so cool” to make me an ounce of fucking cool. I need to find the newest “it” bag, hear the next best thing, watch the cool as fuck video. I NEED these things because having these things makes me better than everyone else. Knowing all theses things proves I am just as fucking cool as the next person. Just as cool as everyone else. Isn’t that what we all want? To be just like everyone else? We all want these things in our cool-as-fuck world that makes us into completely different people. Because being someone else is better than what we show to the world. I wish I was cool. Cool enough to wear the coolest dopest shit you’ve ever seen. Cool enough to share with the world all my pretty shiny things. Every thing I love everyone else hates. Everything I like is different, unusual, and boring. Every thing I want for myself is kept privately for fear of being shunned by the world. Because no matter how much money I make, it’s never enough. For every dope thing thats “dope” to me, people don’t seem to care about anyway. Every thing I have is just my attempts at being cool, which makes me fail miserably. We are not school children trying to one up one another in the school yard. We are not roaming the halls of our imaginative high school. We’re grown ups, who are still growing up. We’re human beings trying to live. More importantly we are not children anymore showing off whats cool in front of the masses at show and tell. What does it matter what I like that you don’t like? What does it matter if the mainstream is more fun then the underground? What makes cool so fucking cool anyway?

You reach that point in your life when growing up is inevitable. Everything that you once held dear to your heart all finds a way to disappear. All the things you once loved starts becoming childish and juvenile. I am through being cool. Through pretending that everything that I like is suppose to be what everyone else likes. Through spending money to impress complete nobodies into believing I am a somebody. Through wishing for material things in my attempt to impress you. New shoes doesn’t change who I am because even wearing new shoes doesn’t change the numbers in my bank account. Material things don’t make me cool because the more we try being cool, makes us less than fucking cool. I don’t need a closet of beautiful things to make me special. I don’t need to drive the coolest car to make me a somebody. Because reality is we are all complete nobodies. Who are we to make people believe that having these things makes us better than everyone else? All the things we love are made by people who have nothing. Some days I wish I had nothing just so I can appreciate everything I have surrounding me.

I am done pretending because reality is I am not cool. Not even an ounce of cool, not even a smidgen of cool. I am just me. I can live with that, why can’t you?

 

Fix you.

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Days come and days go. There are people you remember and people you want to forget. You keep the memories of the past closely guarded around your heart. There are times you wish you truly could let go, let go with every broken way you possibly could. When life happens to hurt more than it should, you retreat back into your broken shell. Back to every broken memory you could possibly think of.

We are all broken battered people. People so broken with life that not even a single light could guide us home. We beg to the skies to make everything better. To give us just a better way to fall gracefully. We can’t help but feel the way we do. We want to be fixed of our broken wings and nursed back to good health. We want our shattered pieces to be pieced back together, ever so gently. Anything to cure us from our brokenness and broken ways.

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No matter what I do I am drawn to the broken ones. The people so broken by life that nothing seems to get through to them. Its the broken ones that need the most help. The most love out of all of us. No matter what I do, I can’t escape them. They’re drawn to me, and I can’t help but want to help them. Be there for them. Fix the broken parts and find a way to get through to them. I want to put a bandaid around all the cuts. I want to glue together all the broken shattered parts. I want to dry all the tears and make everything feel better.

But I can’t.

The more I try to fix a broken person the more it hurts. The more I try to piece back together someone, the more I find myself falling apart. I take all the broken pieces from everyone else and cut them deep inside of me. After all the broken ones are fixed they latch on to the light of someone else. All I am left is the remains of the broken hearted shattered pieces. Its when the broken ones have gone to live their lives, that I am left wondering what to do with mine. When do I get someone to save me from my broken self? When do I get a chance to patch up all the cuts and glue together all the shattered strands?

But I want to fix you. I want to guide the light to light your path to find what you’re looking for. Patch up all your broken bones and guide you home. Take every pain you feel and make it my own. Only then would you understand that I feel exactly as you do. That even the ones that stand tall, feel broken too. Every inch of my heart is broken but to take away my broken pride, I want to fix you. I want to help and cure and mend, every sense of the brokenness. But I can’t. The more I think I am helping, the more I make it worse.

Sometimes I need fixing too. Sometimes I need a light to steer me in the right direction. Need someone to pick up all my broken pieces and glue them back together. Seldom do I find a person that will help guide me through. Instead of helping all the broken ones, I should start with my own broken self. I can’t fix you, as much as I wish I could. I can’t put back together all the broken strands of pieces and make you whole again. I need to fix myself before I can think of fixing you. I need to help myself before I can help someone else who thinks they need me too. It’s only after I help myself that I can ever think of fixing you. But I could never fix you. You need to look into your broken heart and let the pieces fall back together on their own. Stop searching for people to help you from your broken shell. Because even the people that are helping you, can’t help but be broken too.

And I feel more broken then I am suppose to feel. I just wish I could find a way to fix you by fixing myself too.

2/16/2012

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My dress it hangs there.

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Life has a funny way of imitating art. Which is why I find myself loving so many photographs, paintings, and writings of everything. Art has a way of captivating you deep down into your soul. Pulling something out of you that at times you forget you still had. I think of how much my life has changed and yet, I find myself so in touch with the past. How things from our present find ways to remind us of things from years prior.

Its when I think of the past that it reminds of me of the dress. The last dress I purchased that held so much promise of color and new beginnings. How the colors so different found a way to compliment each other. I think of the last moments I wore that dress, and how after so many years the image of that dress never seems to escape me. It continues to remind me of a halfway point. The point between here and there, never fully grasping the concept of being home. Home was where I was suppose to want to be, but being in between here and there I never understood. It took a while to get myself to pick up the dress and find it a home. Because keeping it stationary meant that it would last forever in that in-between places. That seeing it day after day and how it would just hang there for the world to see. Hang there for me to one day come to conclusion that this was home again. It was my own fear of returning home and counting my losses. My own fear of seeing my life for what it was, and not some in-between place journey but coming home to pick at my scabs and start over. The dress it just hung there, waiting, patiently to be put away.

It’s been months since I’ve put the dress away. Months since I’ve worn and seen the dress. Still the image of the dress hanging between rooms, doesn’t seem to escape me. It sits waiting patiently to be put away. I think of it as the last of the decades of leaving. The last escape of this godforsaken town. But still even months after it’s been put away, I can still see it. I see the blue, green, and navy. I see the image of the dress just swaying back and forth with the life surrounding it. I see how much I loved that dress when I purchased it, I see how I couldn’t wait to never see it again.

Art has a funny way of imitating life. I can sit and stare at a painting of a dress hanging between the chaos of New York, and still think of that dress. How the dress just hung in-between here and there. How much I wished for the dress to be leaving to far off distant places and instead watched it be buried to the back of the closet. Still that image beckons to me, haunts me. I watch the life of the dress disappear into the dark mysteries of life. Waiting, patiently for the day to reappear. Waiting for the day to be brought back to life. I just can’t bring myself to wear that dress but its memory still haunts my mind from time to time. On the days when I feel like I am in-between places. I’ll never know where I am going but I know eventually I will leave this place and with me that dress will join me. Maybe soon.

But still it waits.

Patiently.

4/14/2012

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Blonde Ambition.

There comes a moment in your life where you need a change. Something to go from invisible to visible. The years of playing the disappearing act and wanting that need to reappear. Better, different, someone other than how people remember you. You change your clothes, you change your attitude and if you’re drastic enough you change your hair color. I am all for every aspect of change, including in the hair department. When you change your hair, you change different aspects of yourself.

New beginnings and this constant need for change. If you change your insides you want your outsides to match. Finding myself shedding my skin from one extreme to another. Adapting these different versions of how I want to be and how I want to conduct myself. I want the change because it’s the change thats making me feel this way. When you spend these moments disappearing, all you want is that moment to reappear. The disappearing act you made of your life, now is the time for your comeback. I have done everything humanly possible to my hair all in the name of “new beginnings”. I have chopped it in different variations of layers, cuts and trims. I have dyed it every color imaginable, and yet I’ve always kept it safe. I’ve always stuck to highlights, honey glows, and if I’m feeling adventurous reds and pinks just for fun. At times you become influenced by your surroundings, you feel a peer pressure from your friends. In the name of growing up and feeling different, you take the advice of various different people.

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There is a whole process that goes into a hair transformation. There’s the “Should I?”, “Can I pull it off?” and then the “Screw it”. I have seen my fair share of “Screw it” with drastic conclusions. Anything then the ordinary, anything then what you see before you. Different, dramatic, drastic. When I decided to go blonde, I jumped off the bridge and did it. At the time I was going through a lot of different emotions and in the in-between stages of growing up and acting grown up. I had a new job, I had moved back home for what seemed like the 100th time, I just wanted something to show for all my new things. On top of everything, I had money. Money saved, money in the back, and more importantly brand new shiny credit cards to take care of everything. I loved it. I still wasn’t grasping the concept of being an adult but still I had money to take me to the next level. It’s amazing what you do in the name of new beginnings and it’s amazing the bullshit things you put up with once people know you have money.

When I went blonde, I thought a new change in hair color was what I needed to be an adult. I had seen countless of my peers go through drastic hair changes and watched their careers change. I watched their lives change from ordinary to extraordinary. I wanted that. I didn’t care how much it cost, I just wanted to see if my insides would mirror image my outsides. If I did all these things, would it change me.  What they don’t tell you in the magazines is how much maintenance goes into a hair change. They don’t tell you how your scalp is going to feel, they don’t tell you how your hair would feel, and more importantly they don’t tell you how you will feel in the end. I had people telling me it was a great choice and just what I needed to grow. Deep down I hated it. I know it was just hair, but even with a bad haircut I couldn’t just grow out a bad dye job. It is just hair and complaining about it is first world problems. This was my hair, this was my comfort zone of emotions. This was my security blanket of protected emotions. I spent more time obsessing over my hair then changing anything with my life. I spent money on every type of shampoo, conditioner, treatment, product to make my hair feel normal. I didn’t feel like a grown up. If anything I felt like a child hiding from a bad mistake. I watch the new beginning feelings I had tarnish then disappear. While I was more visible to the world, I myself felt invisible. Nobody saw me, they saw a big blob of platinum blonde hair before they even knew who I was. I craved the attention but hated the reactions.

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Sometimes in life you have to file things under “Great Idea at the time”. Eventually the going back and forth to get my hair touched up was costing me a fortune. The countless products to make my hair feel like hair again, were putting me in debt. Instead of feeling visible, I found myself disappearing. I put myself into a depression because of how unhappy I was. All the money I had went into making my hair feel like myself again. Everything I was feeling on the inside, wound up making it’s way to my outsides. It wasn’t just the hair, it was this need to appear to be someone I wasn’t. I was so severely unhappy with myself that becoming someone else wasn’t helping either. I needed to fix that. Equipped with a 5 dollar bottle of box dye, I did just that. In a matter of minutes I watched the months of unhappiness, darken into happiness.

While everything I was feeling was deeply rooted by my past, I knew it was a journey to make myself happy again. A hair color wasn’t going to magically change my life for me. I was haunted by the demons of my life that was only handicapping my happiness. All these “new beginnings”, I wanted were never going to work until I changed myself. No haircut, hair color, change of clothes was going to change that. I had to work on myself on the inside and watch it work itself to the outside. Money wasn’t going to solve everything. While the 5 dollar bottle of box dye saved me from myself, it wasn’t a miracle worker. I still had a ways to go, but at that moment I felt okay. That’s all I wanted to feel.

I’m okay, I promise.

Six Hour session from Black Brown to Platinum Blonde:  $235  (not including tip)
Touch up roots, every month: $150 (not including tip)
Shampoo to maintain color: $29.99
Conditioner: $15.99
Deep Conditioning Treatment: $11.99
Blonde Spray Wax: $14.99
Blonde Wax: $9.99
Gas to get to appointments: $40 (appointments were out of town with a professional hair stylist)

 

 

A little back and forth lately.

I’ve been thinking about the ocean lately. Not in the classic summer way where thinking of beaches and warmer weather would make sense in this cold weather. But thinking of sand, water, and freezing cold temperatures. I miss the sounds of the ocean that I can’t hear from a bridge or from a window of an airplane. I miss digging my feet into the sand and staring off into the distance. I miss living near large masses of water. Water that I can see and touch whenever I feel like it. I am totally weird. Only a crazy person would think of the ocean when it’s freezing.

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In a way thinking of the ocean is just my way of wanting an escape. Wishing that people felt that way too. I get so consumed with other peoples ideas that I start to believe that they’re my own thoughts. Its been a while since I found people to connect with, people that are adventurous and not afraid of change. People that don’t want to go to the same boring places and actually want to venture out in different directions. We are so consumed with familiarity that going anywhere else seems like a hassle. I hate routine and I hate having to go to the same places because people are afraid of getting out of their comfort zone. I blame my area, I blame the central valley, most of all I blame people afraid of change. Then again I blame myself for not having the courage to venture off on my own. I could do it on my own, but like everyone else I too am afraid of a little change.

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To be honest with myself, I have to be honest with everyone else. I am scared. I am self-conscious. I am a lot of things in between. It’s so easy to want change from others but why is it often hard to seek change in ourselves. I want adventures, I want to experience new things, but I also want others to feel the same way too. It could just be the simple minded surroundings of my areas. Everyone’s lazy attempts at life, but at times I am no different. I want the ocean but I don’t want the journey that goes with seeing the ocean. I want the world to bend over backwards for me, but I can’t even lift a finger when the universe asks me to. I want the rain, but I settle for the drought. I want, I want, and I want, but I can’t seem to get myself started. I know to change things within ourselves we have to start small. Small victories before feeling victorious. I just can’t help but expect this huge change to start happening now. I am impatient for big changes and not realizing small changes are victories too.

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I want to get to the ocean before the weather starts getting warmer. I want to place my feet in the freezing cold waters and feel whole again. I want the ocean because somewhere deep inside I need the change. I need a change in scenery. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, all I know is that it will happen someday soon.

 

 

 

12 Uvas de Ano Nuevo. 12 Grapes for New Year.

 

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12 Grapes of Destiny. SIKE. 12 Grapes/Uvas of the New Year. 2015

 

Every New Year’s Eve, it is customary in my household that we eat the 12 grapes of destiny at precisely 12am. Okay, they’re not reallllly called the 12 grapes of destiny. It’s basically an old superstition, that after consuming the 12 grapes (that represent each month of the year), that you make a wish for each grape (month). It is to ensure good luck into the upcoming year, along with many other superstitions. It’s a practice that we as a family have been doing for years.

While I am all for superstitions, I never really gave much thought to them. Most of my wishes always seemed far fetched. Just something to pass the time before everyone cheered to the new year.  Some realistic, some outrageous, and some just the same thing I ask every year. This year I wanted things to be different. I always had resolutions but wishes always seemed to run along the lines of Unicorns and Wizards (which are both AWESOME). While 2014 was my year of change (which I will get into on another post), 2015 is going to be the year of progress and productivity. It is rather cliché to say anything about resolutions but wishes?

Wishes are boss and I’m going to talk about what I wish for in the upcoming 12 months.

1. Travel.

Travel is always number 1 on my wish list. I believe travelling is one of the greatest experiences anyone can do in their lifetime.  It’s no surprise that I love to travel. In 2014 alone, I travelled to a few more places that I never imagined I would visit. Of course I visited my same sacred haunts but experiencing different places is always magical to me. Everyone needs to travel some place completely different and my wish for 2015 is to travel to different far off destinations. There is so much of the world that I want to explore and so many experiences I could only dream of discovering.

2. Get out of my Comfort zone. Try new things.

I am a creature of habit with a minor in insecurities. I have a tendency of doing only the things that won’t cause me any stress or anxiety. It’s really hard at times to get out of my comfort zone, when my comfort zone is very comfy. Over the course of 2014, I slowly started dipping my toes out of my comfort zone. I don’t mind trying new things but I’m so used to my routine that I never stray away from it. 2015 will be the year of trying new things and putting a full foot out of my comfort zone.

3. Stop making Excuses.

Here’s the thing. I make an excuse for everything. I’m good at making excuses. If you need help getting out of any situation, call me and I will make up an excuse for you.  It’s just what I do to get out of anything. It’s absolutely terrible but I can’t help myself but do it. For the past couple of years I have made excuses for everything, this year 2015, it stops. I’m tired of making up excuses. I am tired of delaying progress. This is the year that things happen, instead of making an excuse as to why it didn’t happen.

4. Be Healthy.

This ties into #3. I am the most unhealthy person. I know my young hot body will fool you, but I’m severely unhealthy. While I am not as bad as I used to be, I’m still not where I need to be. I make up excuses as to why am I not being active and most of them (okay ALL of them) are lies. It’s part laziness and part fear, and a huge part of just one big excuse of not wanting to do it. 2015 is the year that the excuses stop, and the getting healthy begins. While I know that I will never be some crazy health nut,  I just want to get to the point that I feel better. I have been the most unkind to my body, and it’s about time I started treating it right.

5. Stop being negative. Stop hating.

One of my most unhealthy qualities is being negative. I am my own worst enemy. It doesn’t stop with how I treat myself but my opinions of others. Instead of being positive, I find myself just being downright mean. I don’t know what causes me to do, but it happens all the time. I should be more positive. I should  stop caring about what other people do and start focusing on my own life. I’ve spent years just nitpicking everyone that it’s driven me to be a hater. I love talking shit but hate when the shit talking comes back to me. Who am I to judge people? Honestly, I am nobody. I don’t have my life together, I am not any close to where I need to be, and still I sit and judge people. On top of it all, I handicap my own life with my negativity. Instead of being proactive with my life, I sit and dwell on my own personal bullshit. Time to stop being negative and stop being a hater.

6. Get my life together.

I wish for this every year. Every year something happens and just when I think I’ve gotten ahead, I fall 17 steps back. Stop spending time wishing and start doing. I have spent the past few years just going through the motions when I should have been saving, planning, doing. Last year was an awakening. I don’t just need to get my life together, I will get my life together. I have been waiting for people for years, when I should have been doing things for myself. This is my life and I can’t wait around for opportunities anymore. Once I see an opportunity, I need to start taking them.

7. Letting go of people.

This blog has been my dedication of letting things go. There are some things I can’t stop holding on to. I have a problem with letting people go. The people that have hurt me, the people that have used me, and even friendships with people that haven’t been around for me. I hold on to these people in the hopes that they will change. That somehow they will comeback and be a good friend to me. Truth is as much as I expect people to change, most people don’t. Everyone is on their own hustle and as much as I am happy for their hustle, it leaves me in the dust. I’m tired of being everyone’s “break in case of emergency” friend. I am tired of waiting around for people that will never change. On top of that, I am tired of putting the effort for  people that don’t put the smallest effort for me. I understand that friendships work both ways, but why am I always the person to have to contact people? Why do I care more about a friendship when other people don’t? This year, I just need to let those people go. Stop with communications, stop putting out the effort, and eventually stop being a friend. I know who my friends are and I am content with that.

8. The Great Outdoors.

Here’s something you may or may not know about me. I hate being outside. Unless being outside revolves around a BBQ, baseball game, or outdoor mall, I just can’t do it. I realized after a lifetime hiatus of not being an outdoors person, I needed to go outdoors more. I needed to be one with nature, see the sights, and of course be outdoors. While I still get a tiny anxiety being outside, I know that in the end it will do me some good. Sunshine is good for you right? So, I’ve heard.

9. Be kinder to myself.

I am my worst critic. I have done everything and anything to hurt my body. It’s taken years to fully appreciate my progress and be in love with my body. Not only my body, but be in love with myself. I am always clouded by other people’s judgments or even my own insecurities. I have a hard time understanding that everything is a work in progress. I may not be 100% the person I want to be but I have to be okay with the journey.

10. More conversation, less social media.

I love social media. I love social media for the aspect that people get a personal glimpse into my life that they seldom ever get. My problem is I rely too much on social media that I forget to have real conversations with people. Social media has increased my anxiety around people and decreased my level of interaction. If I am uncomfortable in a situation, I text someone. If I am insecure about something, I fidget with my phone and take pictures. I have such a hard time interacting with people that I turn to social media to help me interact with people. While social media has helped with meeting new people, it hasn’t helped me talk with people in real life. I told myself I was going to start being more involved. While I will still be on social media, I will take more time to talk to people. More real conversations with real people. Less small talk and more real talk.

11. Read more Books.

As many know, I have a problem with spending. Therefore, I tend to spend on millions of things. Some of those  millions of things, happen to be books. I can’t tell you how many piles of books I have. Books, I have started. Books, I am half way through. Books, I haven’t even started. 2014, I made it my goal to read 10 books before the new year. I was very proud when I realized I had read 12 books, 2 more than my quota! YAY ME! However, I also purchased 10 more books (I KNOW but I said I was “Getting my life together” OKAY!). We will see where this goes. Hopefully, I will finish all the books, as well as the books that still need to be finished. 15 books for 2015? CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!

12. Learn more about my culture.

If you don’t already know, I am of Mexican descent. For the past couple of years, I have made it my mission to learn more things about my culture. Whether it be about my own family history, learning about Mexico’s history, or even learning to cook different recipes. More importantly, I want to learn more about my family. I have a very large family on both my mother and my father side, I want to learn as much as I can from each member of the family. I want to see life through different people’s perspective. I want to get to know my family both culturally, as well as personally. There’s so much you miss out on with family living in another county. Which is the reason why I want to learn as much as I can from family. What better way to get to know your culture then by your own family, right?

 

These are my wishes for the upcoming 2015 year. I intended to make this list more realistic than I have in years. Things I can make come true and accomplish in reality. 2015 will be my year of progress and productivity. I will be more creative this year, I will go on more adventures, and I will fully let things go. 2015 feels different from all the other years. It’s a year of getting things done!!

Here’s to a brand spanking new year and well wishes for 2015!

 

 

 

What the water gave me.

When I was younger, I always believed that water had a super power. Water had the ability to wash everything away. Wash away your tears, your fears, and any indication of negativity. Every terrible emotion you had could be washed away, the second the water touched you. It was with it’s magical healing powers that everything washed away. Maybe I was completely naive but when you felt this hole in your heart, you wanted to believe it was true. That something so pure could wash away all the impurities in your life. Within seconds all the tears would disappear, into the mass of water never to be seen again.

Even years later, I still believe that.

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Water became this magic eraser for everything. It washed the slates of my mistakes clean. For an instant watching all the helpless sorrows I felt fall to the floor and into the drain. The water gave you this new beginning to start all over again. A different day, a different person. Just the complete ability to wash everything away and feel better. The reflections of your past that stared back at you in the water, didn’t matter. For a moment they were there and in an instant they were gone.

There are times I wished the water would wash away everything. The memories of the past and the moments of regret and self doubt. I wished the water would take those memories and drown them to the bottom of the ocean. Anything to take away the feelings of sorrow and regret. Because no matter how many times you scrubbed your skin, it never made you feel clean. You were always left with the reflections of your past staring back at you in the water.

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I know that I can’t change the past. For a moment I just want to make believe that the water holds all my sorrows and takes them away. All of the sadness, all the tears, and all the stupid memories, gone. Swallowed whole and through the drain to drown into the waters below.  Maybe the water can’t cure all my mistakes, but for a moment it can make me feel better.

Even just for a little while.