happiness

I think it’s time for us to have a toast..

2015, has come and gone.

We sit back and reflect on the year and look at how far we have come.

Have we come far enough?
Have we let go of ourselves?
Have we let go of our past and made our way into the future?

With each passing year, I hope for something better. I watch myself go into the new year with high hopes for the year. This year will be the year something changes. This year will be the year that everything happens. This year will be the year that I stop beating myself up about everything. This year I will finally be free to live my life. As the months go on, I find myself still doing the same thing. I watch myself hiding how I feel, to spare the feelings of others. I find myself still stuck in the same perdicament as always.

When does this change happen?
When will things happen for me?

The truth is I am afraid. Terrified, petrified of doing things alone. I am afraid of leaving the people I care about alone. I am terrified of failure, that it clouds my thoughts every day. Worst of all, I am afraid of letting everyone down. Letting people down would be my unhappiness, and I couldn’t bare to deal with the pain. I find myself wishing for things to change, and when they do I am frightened of the outcome. Every year I am not ready, every year I cloud my head with ideas of not being good enough. Not being what everyone wants and beating myself up over every little thing. Demons are funny little creatures that eat away at your positivity. No matter how many times people say to think differently, they eat away at your insides, and burrow deep into your soul. I have had my fair share of demons. Demons far too large to ever escape. As the seasons change, the demons come at you head on. 2015, was no exception.

2015 wasn’t a learning experience, it was a understanding period. Understanding that nobody is perfect, not my family and not my friends. The truth is nobody is perfect. I want to believe that. I want to believe that we are all flawed and fucked up, just trying to get by. When you’re hurting, you want to fix everyone else. You want to put your two cents in everyone’s life. Tell everyone everything they’re doing wrong, but  forget all the good they are doing right. Its in this fixing that you don’t feel alone. You feel as though you are helping someone, instead of facing your own issues. You become bitter about people that you start to despise them, and through that you begin to burn bridges. It’s not that you mean to do it, its that you’re upset that they can’t be perfect for you. They can’t be who you want them to be or who you know they could be. What I didn’t realize was focusing on other people’s problems wasn’t allowing me to focus on my own. I watched people come and go from my life but never noticed how angry I was. How hurtful of a person I could be. I didn’t realize that pain from my past was causing me to focus all the pain on someone else, other than myself. I spent years focusing and fixing other people, that I never bothered to try and fix myself.

As Spring was ending, I watched myself dig into a deep dark abyss. I watched a huge light switch inside of me turn off, and turn against everybody. I didn’t believe in friendship. I didn’t believe in family. I felt my insides turning themselves inside out, and watched how the days turned to nights, and how much I wanted to claw off my skin to show how I really felt. Thinking positively didn’t help. Changing my attitude just made it worse. I could hear happiness, I could hear love, but I wasn’t feeling it. I didn’t want to talk to anyone because I knew it was my negativity that was pushing people away. It was my darkness that was turning people against me, and for once in my life, I didn’t care. I wanted to lose everything and everyone, before I had to let them go. Before they saw me for who I really was: a terrible, miserable, hateful person, that truly hated herself. The demons from the dark carried over to the daylight and I watched them turn me into someone I hated. Someone I loathed.

When you’ve reached the end, that’s when your beginning starts. I wanted to be alone and find a way to deal with my emotions. I realized the more alone I was, I started realizing who I really was. I wasn’t happy with the person I was, I wasn’t doing everything I wanted to do, and I wasn’t dealing with all my emotions as I should have done years ago. While the world was preaching to me about a positive mental attitude, I couldn’t produce it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, it wasn’t that I didn’t try, it was that I couldn’t see past the smoke I was making myself. I wanted to disappear, but found myself just sinking deeper into my depression. I had been forcing myself to be happy, when I was miserable inside. My fear of being alone became reality; I had let down so many people I didn’t know what to do. The weird thing happens when you disappear. The people you didn’t expect to help you, always help you out in the end. The people that are always there for you, give you space to heal and grow. It took me a long time to understand that, but I finally realized happiness cannot be forced. You have to feel happiness to believe its there. No matter how much you hide from sadness, you need sadness in order to appreciate joy. You need to be able to feel every inch of that hurt and that pain, to truly see how beautiful life really can be. I can’t hide from the pain as much as I would like to. I can’t pretend that pain doesn’t exist because it’s everywhere. I just have to understand that through all that pain, there is beauty. Through the beauty you find a tiny ounce of happiness. Maybe you won’t see it right away, but the day you are ready to embrace how you feel, you’ll get a tiny glimpse of it. It took me years to realize that by embracing my pain, I would find happiness inside of myself. That by accepting everyone for who they are, I could understand the flaws and imperfections of not just everyone by myself as well. People are always going to disappoint us, but sometimes they surprise us in the most unexpected ways. Sometimes the people you love the most will hurt you, and sometimes the people you kept at a distance will be there for you in ways that other people can’t. But 2015, wasn’t about changing, it was about understanding ourselves and the people we care about the most.

And I think it’s time for us to have a toast..

12/31/2015

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The dopeness.

You love to see everything in your perspective. You’re right, I am wrong, that’s how its suppose to be. The venomous words that poison through thought and well wishes. Poison infecting veins and reaching your blood stream, straight though your heart. Negative thoughts are better than positive ideas. All the light will never over power all of your dark. I sit, I watch, I listen, and it’s the words that you hide behind. False illusions, vicious dreams, that allow you to believe you were right and I was always wrong.

I am always wrong. Wrong in my mind, my illusions, and this imitation of life in ruins. I can’t help but want the silver lining. I can’t help but be a negative person with positive intentions. Who are you to judge an idea that isn’t as great as your own? Who are you to believe that being better than everyone else, makes you a better person? Once you start, you can’t be stopped, and you become a monster of your former self. Growing up has a funny way of turning you into someone you never wanted to be. Most of us change and a majority of us, stay the same. I can’t help but want to be better for myself, if I can’t be better for anyone else.

Am I not destined for greatness, instead of failing? Am I not here to be a better person, through all the bad things I have done? But you are always right, and I am always wrong. It’s how it’s suppose to be. At the end of the day, I can’t help but see the dopeness in everything, but you just see the wackness.

9/30/2015

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.

 

Talking sh*t about a pretty sunset.

I am a sucker for sunsets. Where the colors of the sky blend chaotically into the atmosphere. Where the fades of sky blues tarnish into the clouds to form bright pinks to luscious violets and transition with their oranges into the dark skies we see at night. Maybe I am the only one that sees it that way. Watching this transformation of color just happen before my eyes.  The more I try and explain myself, the more people point out the flaws and dismantle the sunset that I love. Colors of sunsets are a lot like dreams, everyone has their own perception of them. No matter how many times a person puts their two cents in about color, I can’t help but feel they have it all wrong. Everyone wants this picturesque sunset to photograph and show the world. To mark it up to their own perspection of beauty and edit out all the flaws. The more they capture the more they turn it around and change it. Editing reality you take away the beauty of it all. Flaws and all.

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Maybe we are going about it all wrong. Taking pictures of the sky doesn’t give the sky it’s beautiful justice. The colors that are sketched into my mind never show up as beautiful as I photograph them. Wouldn’t it be amazing if we could photograph the sky without the need of digital devices? No sunset looks as beautiful as it exist in my memory. No sunset can be photographed to its picturesque perfection. Why do I bother explaining the things I love, when someone is going to come around and change everything? You can’t put a filter on my sunsets and tell me that this is what you see. You can’t tell me that life as you photograph it is what I am suppose to see. I find myself allowing others fears and perception of beauty filter into my own ideas. I find myself wanting to change the things I once loved all for the sake of finding something beautiful. I can drive myself crazy trying to change every single one of the flaws but in the end its the imperfections that make everything so damn beautiful.

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Nostalgia always has a way of letting us down. Every once in a while people will find a way to let you down and break you heart. Sunsets will come and go and all you’re left with are all the colors they leave behind in your memory. Sometimes staring up at the sky is better than staying asleep and dreaming. Dreams are only real in your memory but sunsets are fucking there for the taking. Don’t allow anyone else’s perceptions of your reality change what you see. Then again what do I know, sunsets are just sunsets. Colors are just as over exaggerated as our dreams. Sometimes people are right, maybe the sunset that I see is in the wrong placement of everything I want. Maybe the colors that I see aren’t as important as what anyone else sees. Who knows. All I care about is feeling something other than nothing. Seeing the colors for everything they are worth, there for my amusement. I’ll never find the perfect sunset everyone claims exists. Maybe I am wrong for loving all the things that I do but for what it’s worth, I still fall in love every time I look up at the sky as the sun sets. That’s all I could ever ask for, falling in love with colors before the darkness hits. It’s through color that we truly believe in ourselves, it’s before the dark that we reach for the light again.  That’s all I could ever want.

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Talking shit about a pretty sunset
Blanketing opinions that I’ll probably regret soon
I’ve changed my mind so much I cant even trust it
My mind changed me so much I cant even trust myself

Before they turn the lights out.

There’s always a moment where your life seems to change. You don’t believe it at first. Maybe after all the years of being in darkness, you finally get a glimpse of the light. Anything to break you from this broken feeling of yesterday. It happens in an instant and before you know it, something inside of you clicks. In a moment it changes. In that moment you don’t want to disappear you just want to draw yourself closer to the light. It sounds crazy but the moment you feel it, is the moment that your world opens up differently.

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There was always this part of me that wanted to believe this broken feeling would last forever. That I would use this feeling as a badge of honor, that I lived through the bullshit of prior relationships. People always said that one day it would be over and still I refused to believe it. When you’re ready, you will know it. You will feel it in your bones and the past will just be a memory. I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to live in this bitterness and hopelessness. Just use every aspect of this hurt to shield away every part of myself. They say when you know, you’ll know. It’ll hit you when you least expect it. Hit you straight into your heart and flow through your blood stream. I knew it the moment you stepped into the room. It was at that moment that everything I felt from the past disappeared. In the moment that I saw you, I knew that everything was going to change. Even if it was just for a moment.

We don’t have forever
Ooh, baby daylight’s wasting

I didn’t have to know you, but for a moment I knew everything about you. In some cosmic soul racing against time, I knew everything. There are moments you want to capture in slow motion and I found myself doing just that. It wasn’t love, it wasn’t a crush, but it was something. If there was a way to explain it, I would formulate the words to describe that night. Sadly, I can’t. Just as easy as night falls the day light started coming up. We could have wished for more time, took more time to see things as we saw them. It would have ruined the moment. It would have taken apart every first to last look and time would have ran away faster. I couldn’t blame feelings on the drinks, I couldn’t blame how I felt on the bewitching lights of the city. For that moment I forgot what it was like to feel broken. Forgot who I had been before for a chance to change it all around for the night. All of my mistakes of yesterday vanished the moment I locked eyes with someone completely different from my past.

Emotions change over time. People we think we are in the night are different once the lights come back. As we hide our shells in the dark, turning the lights out only made it easier to hide ourselves. I’d be selfish to ask for something out of nothing. I’d be crazy to think that what I felt was love or anything like it. For the first time, I didn’t cry when songs came on. I didn’t remember the past scars and placements they held on my skin. It was in that one moment, I felt something change. All the bricks that had been thrown onto my heart, were finally coming down. Through the crowds of people, I finally saw someone as I wanted to see myself. In that brief moment, anything was possible. I’d be a fool to say that it would last forever. I knew it we were just moments away from the lights coming back on. Moments away from reality and our dreams turning to dust.

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I’d like to believe somewhere between the streets, that our souls are running through the sidewalks and in between the streets. That our souls found a way to be trapped in the night beneath the lights. Everything was darker and brighter with the street lights and the stars. Emotionally dimming in their own night settings. I’d give anything to return to that moment. Moments that seemed to last forever and trapped in a time and place. But as most things vanish, you did just the same. Just as the lights went out. Thats how life happens, bringing people to help you place the last fragments of your broken pieces into place. Its what you did and for that I could never feel anything more than I felt that night.

Before they turn the lights out.

9/6/2013

Just Kids.

Life has a way of coming back full circle. When you least expect it to. I don’t understand it at times, why signs pop up out of no where and cause you to think endlessly. I start to reevaluate everything; people, places, dreams, and things. Music has a way of transporting your feelings into memories. Films have a way of showcasing your emotions with feelings and placements. And Books? Books just find a way to give you the torch to light your way with the words you read. You may not understand it at first, but when you find yourself swaying to the poetic words, you can’t help but be hooked.

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I purchased the book Just Kids by Patti Smith, over 5 years ago. It was part intrigue, part nostalgia, and part wanting to be moved from my current surroundings. As many of the items in my room end up being relics of the past, this book became one of them. I denied this book so many times in favor of other things. Maybe it was the intensity of the book and part intimidation, but I couldn’t bring myself to read this book. “I’m not ready”, I kept telling myself. I would pick up the book and then place it back under the stacks of books, still waiting to be read. I held on to this book in anticipation of when I would be fully prepared to read that book. When I would be able to comprehend the words and lose myself in the rhythm of the book. I wasn’t ready. No matter how many times I picked up the book, I just wasn’t ready to fully commit. When I brought myself to read the book, I knew it would hit me like a ton of bricks. That it would ache from the depths of my heart into the depths of my soul. I wasn’t prepared for that, I wasn’t ready. I had always been a bit intimidated by Patti Smith. It was her vulnerability and her honesty in her music that always kept me at an arms length. Through the words that infected and spoke to me on numerous occasions. Her album Horses was a bible of spoken words, dreams, desires and sometimes I couldn’t listen to it. Its almost as the words pierced right through me, telling me, pulling me out of myself. I just wasn’t prepared nor ready to hear everything that she had to say.

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When you need something the most is when you reach out and find it. Call it the change in season or the weather but on Monday, I was ready. For two days, I lived and breathed in those words. Devoured every syllable and inch of the book. It opened a world I longed forgotten about. Reminded me of the images of my past and this yearning to create, to live, and to feel inspired. Big cities change people. It changes how you think, feel, create, and live. You’re also surrounded by a variety of movers and shakers, and can’t help but want to be immersed in that life. It was more than a love story about two creative people. It was a living, breathing machine of life and you couldn’t help but feel transported into. Poetic, loving, raw, moving, and absolutely beautiful. It was magic. I fell in love with this nostalgia of two phenomenal people and their journey of growing up, surrounded by this cosmic love and admiration for each other. It made me look into my own life. The people that have come and gone and how upset I was that relationships fall apart. How hard it seems to navigate through my adult life and still holding on to fragments of my past stories. I breathed in another life while reading and breathed out all the chaotic misfortunes of my own. I retreat to the past and seldom tell stories anymore. Part being upset, part wanting to forget, and part still hurt by the failed relationships.

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After reading Just Kids, I felt something; happiness, love, and everything in between. I felt magic that I thought I lost long ago on the steps of countless streets where I told myself stories. For the first time in years, I didn’t cry about the past. I didn’t cry about fallen friendships, I didn’t cry about the memories. For the first time I laid to rest the longing to rekindle those old times and memories. I wasn’t a kid then, but I sure as hell acted like one. I was ready to box up the memories and those relics of the past and file it away until it was necessary to bring them back. I loved many aspects of my past but all that nostalgia was bringing me down. I was ready to feel again, ready to let go, and ready to start over. For the first time in years I felt inspired by my past to make good into my present.

For the first time in years, I played Horses and replayed every track.

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We all self concious, I’m just the first to admit it.

Life has a funny way of turning you into the one thing you don’t want to be.

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Its funny.

It’s just easier to make a joke out of something then coming out and stating how you really feel. How you put yourself out into the world is how you want to feel on the inside. However it’s nothing close to how you’re feeling. It doesn’t even compare. For the sake of the story you make up the person you want to present to the world. You line up all your armor and you put it on, one by one. Hoping that nothing will stop you in your quest for perfection. This armor protects you from the outside world and keeps you safe from every sort of harm.  For a moment you believe that’s real. That everything you put forth to the world is exactly who you’ve always been and everything you hide, no one will ever see. You lie to everyone. Even the people who think they know you best, don’t know you at all. That has always been my problem. It was easy to pretend to be someone else then the person I really am.

We have this sick perception of what we believe to be perfect. What we believe to be beautiful. You become succumb to the notion that this is how everything is suppose to be. You spend every last dime, sacrifice so much of who you are to be exactly how everyone else wants you to be. The countless hours I spent in front of the mirror and never truly being satisfied with who I saw. You make a caricature of yourself and for years you play this part of someone you were never familiar with to begin with. The thicker your armor becomes the more or less you start disappearing inside. The make up, the clothes, the amount of money you spend to be someone completely different from the person you grew up with. Sometimes it takes a lifetime to realize the monster you have become. Other times you just come to terms with this is who you will be for the rest of your life. We forget that we were all once loved and had a thirst and hunger for life. New beginnings and clean slates were how we came to this world. Now we’re just a sad representation of a bad Xerox copy of everyone else.

The years pass and you find yourself hurting. The dents start showing in your armor. The more you think you’re fooling everyone, in reality you’re only fooling yourself. The countless times you believe its what you wanted was really what everyone else wanted. You become a punching bag to the worst people, your own worst enemy for rolling with the punches. The quest for perfection stopped being a quest and more of a nightmare of survival. The cutting, the bleeding, the starvation, the nights you tell yourself this is what they wanted and all you want is an out. The countless times you covered yourself up to hide how you felt inside. You realize how much you wanted a life of your own instead of the sad existence that you have before you. You can’t give up. You can’t fail. Instead you do what you do best, you hide how you feel. You fall, you get up and then you start all over again.

Piece by piece, you take away the armor. Cut out the toxic people that made you miserable. Cut out the people that hurt you to believe that their perception of beauty was who you needed to be. You slowly start appreciating the good in impurities instead of finding perfection in everything. You grow up wanting more than just what everyone else wants. Little by little the armor comes off. You live. Your scars heal, your body changes and eventually it’s not a fight with yourself for happiness. You surround yourself with good people and in turn find the good in everybody again. The fears you once held eventually fade with time but only after you let go of the dark to make way for the light. It’s not easy. Its not something that changes you over night. Some nights are unbearable and some days its just a fight to feel okay.
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It’s not easy. You don’t just wake up and want to change. It takes a lifetime of dealing with bullshit people and their equally bullshit standards. In the end you just realize that it’s up to you to find your own happiness. Change the course of your life into something that will in turn make you who you truly want to be. Your past can’t hurt you, your past doesn’t define you. Your past is there to show you how you survived, and all you’ve accomplished. In the end that’s all that matters in life.

You are amazing.

You are beautiful.

One day, you’ll actually believe that.