Saturday, May 3, 2014


It was always of my belief that when you have a sibling at a young age you're naturally put aside because babies need an absurd amount of caring. I did, however, also believe that when my parents got divorced I'd get two homes and two of the good things. Funny how you can be so right about one thing and wrong about another. 

Even though I'm quite the old girl I still feel it when my mother, whom I have seen about once every three months in the past two years, has to stay home to take care of a new born baby who can't suggest what he eats. 

In all honestly I very well know that in her eyes I am to take care of myself and that's it. Just like she has taken care of her own life.... But I cannot shake that feeling of abandonment. Not that this is the first time. 

On a side note, moving this week will be a torture I am not looking forward to. Moving with your father is hard nought when you're a girl, but moving with Bert smell town is hard on anybody. I hate to say this, but I really do hate him for it. I don't find it fair that I have to dwell with my problems and he gets to get drunk and sleep after work. It's never going to change, and the more it happens the more I truly feel like jumping off the tenth floor balcony. While I still can. 

People always say that I exaggerate the things I say and do, but I wonder if they had to come home to someone who drinks and farts am burps like a pig every evening while you're trying to sleep, would they react any less than I do?
It's interesting how growing up is a torment when you can't just focus on what normal people do. School, a hobbie, a job. No. I have to worry about a house that I know he won't pay for and we'll get evicted. I get to worry that I have food issues that no body acknowledges even when I have openly spoken about. I get to save money and then have to use it to pay for rent. Rent that according to my father is of my obligation to control because he's too busy working. 

I'm honestly tired of getting this distressed at least once a day. Of having no emotional breaks to deal with my feelings rather than with his shit load of problems. 
Maybe it's selfish of me to want a fathe and mother and to not be treated like I am my own mom and dad. Because I this is what it's supposed to be like, I'm better off away from both of them. If I have to be my own mother and father, thn I don't need someone else to pretend they are and to only speak up when they want to exerce power over someone or something. 

Saturday, April 26, 2014

Before It All Starts Tumbling Down

I believe that putting too much thought into what you write spoils the spontaneity of it all. That being said, I should probably think carefully about what I'll blog so it doesn't come back to bit me in the behind as I have seen happen to many people out there. As a mater of fact, this is one of the things that annoys me about social networks. Blogging, like everything else you do online, should be something you do to keep your sanity, in my mundane opinion. I mean, you write about things you can't share with the people around you, or even those that you can, but must also share with the world. I can understand things like that you know?

Not everyone wants to hear everything you have to say and show, and not everyone puts true value into what we share. Which is a pity, but things are as they are. I'm not saying I remember 100% of the things that come out of people's mouths, but I do try to at least give them the courtesy of my attention. When you share something it's because it is somewhat important to you, and people, at least the ones who are a little closer to you, should respect that. However, once again, the ever growing technological screws it up for everybody by making it seem like people who share their feelings on a blog are practically begging to be judged and misunderstood. 

I for one believe that everybody has different phases in their lives, and as each phase emerges, so does the need for different outlets of emotions. Be them good or bad.

I guess in a way this will all sound like a big excuse to post things online and then be mad when people judge me or think they know my life because I opened up on a brief moment of weakness. To be honest, I am both scared and annoyed by that, so I'll go right ahead and post what I deem fit, and I'll fully deal with whatever consequences result from that. I hope truly, none too bad.

I have to say, writing my thoughts down makes it easier to put everything I have to think about into perspective. I know this isn't as simple a task as it seems, but I truly believe that if you can manage to voice your thoughts in clear, concise sentences, then you can always understand and be understood by people. After all, emotions are so misleading sometimes to a outsider's eye, that it helps if you can "put captions on the picture", if you will.

I for one hate the feeling of being trapped. Not just physically, but emotionally trapped. You feel like your heart wants to literally pound its way through your chest. You hyperventilate and end up wide awake for hours or fall asleep as soon as the overwhelming feeling takes over. I think the worst part is the panic and the shortness of breath. It's literally like feeling claustrophobic without the environmental conditioning. It's just you, your brain and your emotions, all three trying to make sense of what is happening. And all three getting frustrated that they can't.

I guess that's why I've been going to bed at 6 am and sleeping 'till noon. It's not something I like to do you see. It's just.... something.... that happens when you have way too much to think about. Some nights, I wish I could turn my brain off. Like a candle really. Just blow and woosh! It would be all dark and quiet and sleep would consume me until the day after.


So, after hours of being up thinking that I truly should learn to just stop feeling resentful towards my ... I don't even know what he is anymore.... I decided I'd watch an Olympic competition of rythmic gymnastics to distract my brain, or at least, to obsess about something else. Ended up deciding that didn't work out 100%, as I am still up at 2:13 in the morning and have been obsessively looking at my phone hoping somewhat he'd write me, even if to tell me to f*** off. Soooo, here are some dance pictures I found on tumblr and liked. I guess I'm random like that. One minute serious relationship crap, another minute, dance. Call me Mrs. Bipolar.

"Present" Expectations

Sometimes, you just really want to know that you're loved and wanted. Sometimes, you just want to know that this one person would care if you felt like dying. Because no one else truly matters to you. No one else ever has. It's not that you don't care about yourself so much that you need reassurance, but rather that you value what that person does to you more than anything else because she's the only other human being who has gotten close to your most vulnerable state. Sometimes, it's not about being perfect and doing the right thing, but doing that one thing that will tell someone that you are, in fact, as deeply in love and dependent of them as they are of you.
Unfortunately, love is such a cruel little thing. As beautiful and sweet as it is dangerous and fragile. One kiss can both intoxicate and save you. One day can both make the difference, or break you apart. And yet, the most fascinating thing to me is that people live as if one action could never make up for another. As if when you screw up something major you don't try your best to understand what you did and fix it with the best of intentions. You walk away and feel shame for what you've done when really, anyone else in their situation could have done the same as you.
Maybe it's just me ranting at what feels like 2 am, but I honestly hate how someone you love can hate so many things about you and consider you clingy when what you're trying to do is be around them. Make up for lost time. More than anything, I am so exhausted of having to believe in a future. I mean, when is it that my PRESENT will start to be what I'm supposed to "look forward" to? When is it that I'll suddenly stop and think "Gods, THIS is nice!"?
The thing about trying to be patient and giving people space to think when you don't really feel like it is that the feeling of injustice sneaks up on you one day. One day, you look back and you say to yourself ENOUGH. Because you can't handle not knowing what is it that the person is waiting for to show up at your doorsteps with flowers and a warm embrace.... to send you a letter even when you don't have a fixed address but your mom does... to find a way to make something sweet and Romeo and Juliet like, that WILL in fact, make up for everything you've gone through, because it'll prove that they've listened.
I am sick and tired of talking. Words mean so little to me it's amazing, and the more I age, the less I listen to what anyone has to say.
Sometimes, you feel like a big old baby, clingy and annoying and winy, and I wonder if I truly am like that or if that's just what people make me feel like for being myself.

Friday, April 18, 2014

The Julie&Julia inspiration

I think every time I have started to write a blog, it was thanks to Julie & Julia, the movie. Or maybe because so much seems to happen to motivate me to write one... This time around, I figured I'd try and do something a little different though.
I think my first post will be dedicated to nana. It's funny how some people are just so overwhelmingly sweet and worried about everyone else. I know this post will make little sense to most people but... I wanted the one person whom I know will relate to this, to know that I wish I was there with him.
If only to hold his hand or help him sleep... if only to escape my own thoughts and chains of problems.

Sometimes, I feel incredibly selfish for complaining so much about my life and being so jealous of other people's happiness. Truth is, I have trouble getting past the feeling of being robbed of everything... and more than that, I am afraid to do anything about getting it back.

There are many a day when I feel like a phony or a failure in everyone's eyes... and funny enough, in my own. I guess so much has changed that at some point I have given up trying to keep up with my life. Living day by day just seems like a waste of time and yet, here I am. Blogging at 2 in the morning, watching Julie&julia, worrying about today's outcome and hoping... that somehow I can summon the will to turn my life around.

I don't think I truly knew the sentiment behind those words until I stopped school this semester. To see your future disappear before your mind's eyes is something no one should experience ever. It's like having no purpose in life. Like being no good for anything other than the physiological basics.
In all honesty, I don't know what I want to do as a career and that scares me. .... I wish someone would offer me a job out of nowhere and that I'd do my best and fall right into place with it. But I know that's not how it works. Maybe it's naive and immature of me to hope to be a fashion designer. To have someone somehow see my drawings and send me an email saying "hey, you have a talent and we'd like to use it!". I'd move to NY in a blink of an eye if I could. Or even California. I'd move to Hollywood and become an actress, but even that nowadays feels like trying to hard. These used to be dreams of mine. Dreams I believed with a little hard work I could achieve and be good at. Don't get me wrong, like everything else, I'm not naturally talented at acting. But I think I'd put the effort into it and I'd be good. Really good.

It is hard to dream when you have other people involved in your dreams though.... I think that's why we all end up settling down for more "down to earth" dreams like a family, a home and a stable job. Maybe even a small hobby if we can afford it. ... But that to me doesn't feel like living.

My grandfather on my dad's side used to say that when you're at the bottom of the well you have to other way to escape but up. But my problem is that I'm stuck to the bottom of the well and don't seem to be able to summon the will to climb up the moldy, greasy stones so I can see the Sun shine bright again. .... Knowing my dad, I know that he more than worries that I am not studying. That I do nothing but to lie down, go to dance and watch TV shows online. I know he wishes me well, and I know he's scared too. But somehow he's always hopeful.
 ... I guess one of the reasons why my dreams seem so far and muddled is because I grew more than a little aware of the world around me. Every time I come up with a plan, I worry that my father will go into the deepest of depressions if I leave.... I worry that my mother will eventually forget she  ever had me as a daughter and only focus on my new born sister, which I know is silly, but if you knew the whole story you'd understand.... I worry that I'll never feel as in love with someone after everything that was said and done.... and over all, I worry I'll fail, and I'll have no one by my side to help me up.

I know that sometimes, it is better to pick yourself up and dust yourself off. That builds character. But, at the same time... I don't want to be alone and vulnerable. I don't want to go back into the depths of the stone walls only to have to climb my way out again and again because I didn't have someone to help and believe in me other than myself.
I find it hard to believe that American dreams are built only in beliefs and will. People get somewhere because someone, at some point, picks them up and helps them out just enough to make the difference between the 99c book and the best seller on the first row of every shelf of every book store.
I don't want to spend my life working hard like I see my father every day, and not getting the financial return and recognition I deserve. Life in this planet is about luxuries and I do understand that having them will likely set us both back about ten thousand years on the evolution scale.... However, not having the essentials to be happy is keeping us both from doing anything other than living every day as if tomorrow or next week didn't exist. And not in that "I'll spend all my money and to the Hell with consequences" but rather on the hopeless way I imagine truly miss fortunate people feel when no rain has come down for clean drinkable water and food. When there's no animal to be killed to eat nor any grain or plant to be chewed. Some days, I feel like my emotional state has gotten close to people who have been beaten, rapped, spat on, stepped on, ignored by and all the other things one should never compare themselves to.
I know it isn't fair in any way to say I am unfortunate because I have so much more than many.... but isn't it okay to want something that you feel happy with? Comforted by? Reassured? Isn't it okay for a human, any human, myself included, to just.... be able to dream and reach at least part of those dreams?

I'm mostly sad I seem to have all my dreams repressed in this corner of my mind .... Some times, I'll try and access them, but I haven't been able to.
I guess I just desperately hope that at some point I can not only dream again, but summon the will and courage to get up  and pursue them, despite fear or social repression. All I want is to be able to be happy... and then make people happy in return.

I don't think my posts will be frequent, nor that they'll be as long as this one.... but somehow, I feel like I just needed to reach out for that one little extra help. That one tiny boost that could make a difference.