The art of gratitude

Hello dear world,

I find it oddly hilarious how troubled I used to be about the future. I would not let up. I think sometimes I gave myself insomnia (I always had trouble sleeping as a kid). Looking at my life now, I see that there was no reason to fret. Yeah, bad stuff has happened, horrible at times. But I'm still breathing. 

The relationship I have with my parents has not always been so rocky. I was spoiled, I suppose. A daddy's girl. Sometimes I feel like I am living in Dante's Inferno. If I could describe the descending relationship with my parents, I would compare it to the Bible's explanation of the how the devil came about. Except without all the jealousy, more like some misunderstandings and, being a child, not taken serious. I guess from that, all I get is that we all have our faults.

"Papa."

The look in his eyes,
such a look will make you want to fall.
The sound of his voice,
such a sound will melt your eyes and cause rain to fall.
The defeated way he approached me,
such an aura will make you wish you could catch him.

There is nothing I can do. 

Maybe it's his age,
(Alas, life is futile).
Or maybe his gender,
(I have no idea how men work).

There was nothing I could do.

But perhaps there is.
Sometimes good can come out of bad.
"Sweat, blood, toil and tears."
"And then, there's light!"

I have places I need to be. I want my words to reach others, I want to expand my knowledge, I have places to be! And thanks to the help of a handful, that is possible. Thanks to the help of the beautiful people on this Earth, I can go. I have a long way to go from that child who once fretted the future. I can make my own future now. What a curse, what a blessing!

Thank you. 

This is real

Driving at night is therapeutic. I can keep driving forever, like nothing else matters and the world gets still for just a moment. World, did you ever ask yourself as a kid where you would be when you turned 20? Gosh, I would do it all the time. Wonder, guess, it would trouble me so much. See, I have always been a planner. Always needed some form of plan to function, always organized; I have always had a system. Knowing the future is one of the things that I struggled with not knowing because I need to know what is ahead. But of course, I am only human, with no super powers and alas, knowing the future is not one of my skills.

Now that I am 20, I look back at my life and I am filled with sorrow and happiness. How ugly and yet, how beautiful. What is this life?

I entered a room
Met with unknown faces
And I saw the distance,
The place where I'll be.

O but what a great distance!
O but what a great feat!

"O the places you'll go!"
But I don't yet know
Those places
To go.

What will I find?
O tell me
Where will I be?
Who will I be?

There is no such thing.

I love writing. It makes me feel like those drives. Where has my pen and paper been all my life? This is truly amazing, this rush, this excitement. World, I will go to Japan. Nothing can stop me. I am going. And maybe, just maybe, that part of me that wondered where I will be at this age, will smile, knowing that this is a lot more than what we hoped for.

Dejame usar tus palabras, Lorca
cuyas me ayudan a expresar mi sentimiento.
Quizas para usted, esas criaturas voladoras no regresaran,
pero para mi,
para mi...  

A ti, mi refugio que no me a desamparado,
tulipanes que crecen en tus tierras,
luz que en la oscuridad no se apaga,
si algun dia vuelas lejos de mi,
quiero que entiendas...

"...mudo, y absorto y de rodillas,
como se adora a Dios ante su altar,
como yo te he querido," 
haci mi tesoro,
nunca te olvidare.

I feel like this fell short of what I was trying to say. Today is my 6th anniversary with someone very special. Words are limiting and alas, all I can say is I love you and thank you for being here.

World, I hope today you will join me in celebrating the power of love. There may be a lot I still don't understand about it, all I know is, it exists.  

Connections?!

World, today I would like to share a story with you all. Sometimes, I randomly tell my brother some stories because he's that kind of person: the one that just sits there and listens. He swears that he doesn't have conversations, that it is people who talk to him (I say otherwise, we have conversations brother!!). Anyway, the story goes like this:

There was once a young girl who was trying to find her place on this earth. Neglected by those around her, she found what she most needed in the strangest place. One of her teachers, one that she swears was on drugs half the time, had her class do an assignment on something they believe in. She chose to write about love (maybe this will be another story).

Because the class had to present, the teacher went first. He had light, sea green eyes that seemed to pierce your very soul and salt-and-pepper hair that charmingly went down above his shoulders. Lanky, with a straight smile, he chose to talk about the connections we have with people all around the world.

Now, this young girl was thinking the whole time, "Man, this guys is nuts!" Little did she realize that there was some extreme wisdom behind those simple words.  That now, years later, she would look to thank that teacher for such wise words...

This is what I wanted to share with you all today. We are all connected. I may know you and you may know me. We may have been lovers in a different life. You never know. But never on this earth are we ever not one. All for one, one for all.

Once, a young boy told me, "We are all different and we are all human." As crazy as it sounds, if you think about, it is a rather humble thing, to equalize us just for a moment. So bathe in this moment, breathe it in, swallow it, allow it to engulf you. We are in this world together. And even when we are apart, I know that you, somewhere, exist.

Anxious!

I wrote this today. I am really trying to jump start my writing career and then I realize I've been too scared to write this whole time. So I hopped up and submitted something for my university publishing magazine. Crossing my fingers that this gets published:

 

Fragments of today

 

A waning summer brought you to me; an orange light engulfed your figure. “So you’re the famous…” No. Why would that be me?

A cautious hug, a nervous glance, a passerby amongst the masses, approached me. It was fall then. Who are you?

Flowers budded, birds sang, and spring brought you to me; a blue sky flirting with the breeze caressed your face. “I like you…” No. Why would that be me?

But I said yes and a smile spread across your face, and the remnants of that faded summer stretched through time.  

A hug, a look, a person amongst the masses approached me. It was four years then. I know you.

Then darkness crept and winter brought me a violating torrent. Chaos infused the universe leaving it barren. Wasted. Foul. I thought you weren’t a rosebud.   

“Monster.”

My spring would never come again. Until…

“I love you.”

Why? I am barren, wasted, foul. My world will not change. There is too much fear.

And then your eye becomes a cloud. A soft, silent drop drapes your eyelashes. It rolls down the shadows on your cheeks. I know those shadows (I have seen myself on them, resting under their shade, a tree).

“Come, come and rest on these fields. I will put tulips in your hair.”