What do I know?

      I sit here often. I wake up, reach for my phone and lose cognition of the world around me, it is but me, my mini-computer and my bed. I gaze at fashion items on Pinterest, delicious looking foods and ignite my inner adventurer with boards of travel photography. I force myself to read the news or listen on NPR, where I either end up submersing myself in it or slowly exiting after a few articles of overwhelming reality. I don't know if this is normal, I don't feel abnormal, although I do feel occasionally low, guilty even for indulging or better yet, obsessing.

       Last night I walked into the room where 4 young teenage girls were lying on the bed on their phones, my nieces or my bf's nieces and my little nephew who's only 8 wanted to play with them but they were ignoring him. I told them they were lame for being together but just being on their phones, not talking or playing. I found myself speaking quickly as I spurted out, you guys are 13 and aren't thinking about the same things that he is, you think about boys, school, selfish things and there's a big difference in age. When I was young I didn't have technology like this, I played with my cousins and caused trouble and messed with our parents, we talked and played. No offense I threw in, one of them spoke up and seemed mad at me for saying selfish, and said what do you mean no offense, you just called us lame. I continued to explain that I was thinking about myself at that age too and it's okay and not necessary for them to think about anything else but those things and themselves. I felt the dense air thicken and as I lay on one of the beds I could feel the girls staring at me from the other close by. I didn't know what to say or how to make it better, especially after saying what I truly felt. I talked with the eldest one and asked about school, the younger one that was mad at me asked me if I ever had a dream car when I was young and I slowly felt my heartbeat return to normal. I felt badly for the way that I spoke to them, I could have easily rephrased my words and had a more thought provoking conversation if I had given it more thought. I sit with them often, feeling like I know exactly what it is to be that young but maybe it is different, maybe time's are changing and I'm not in touch with their generation anymore.  

       

     They don't want to play in the dirt and that bothers me. I'm judgmental toward their use of technology because they never have known a world without it. I justify my use because I'm aware of it, take constant breaks and have known what it is to not have a smart phone or a computer or tv on pause. They're good kids actually, fairly normal and well behaved, but it's not just them I'm targeting with my frustration, frankly it's everyone. Sincerely, it's myself too. 

Sometimes I have amazing days but here I only want to post my secrets...

I can't change this heart of mine or turn back the hands of time. ❤️

I do smile now and then, glad that I could call you a friend. 

Some days fly by more than others, wonder if you've found another. 

All I have are memories, of which I think of beneath the trees. 

Silly you may call me sometimes, but I can not help it, fool.

I am happy where I am now, but that doesn't diminish you.

I question if we'll go for coffee, should you see me walk your way. ☕️

Catch up on lost seasons,

For no further rhyme or reason,

Than to tell you that I miss you and hope that you have happy days. ☀️

I don't feel inspired anymore...

I don't feel inspired anymore and I'm scared. 
I don't feel magic in his lips or a spark or certainty. 
I am ignorant and I allow myself to be. 
I am lazy and lethargic. 
Thoughts of what I could be doing, should be doing, run through my mind. 
Running, running, running. 
Even when I'm safe in bed where no one can hurt me but myself at least in my head I am running. 
Fear. 
There is nothing to fear but fear itself. 
Well then I fear, fear. 
I find refuge in other's stories, other's lives, but where is my solitude? 
While I am writing my heart is pounding, knowing that all of this is true, 
not even wanting to wait or be here in this moment and write it down because I should be running. 
The outside calls me. 
I hear the birds chirp and somedays I crack open my blinds and let the light in. 
I am a prisoner within myself, to myself, chained to my emotions. 
I wonder if the problem is me. 
I have so many dreams. 
Beautiful dreams, elaborate dreams, realistic, attainable, obscure, insane dreams. 
I live to dream because in that state of inter-consciousness I can not feel real world problems. 
The solutions are flowy and hazy and white. 
I take pictures of sunsets on castles and I am free. 
I long to be free. 
My inspiration comes in doses and it usually only lasts long enough to write a poem. 
I don't want you to pity me, I want you to believe in me. 
I want you to convince me to believe in myself. 
Maybe if I slowly start to convince myself it will soon be less of an acting gig and more of a truth.
Buzzing. 
My head is often buzzing and I wonder if it is because it is not receiving enough stimulation. 
Challenge yourself. Be something. Do something. Do anything. 
Make art. 
I suck at art. 
All that I thought that I came from, that I was, that I admire, it is all for not. 
Now I am stuck here re-inventing myself. 

Poem.

I don't know what I look like anymore. 

I don't know who I am. 

And sometimes, when it comes to others, I don't give a damn. 

I'm so tired of feeling, every word and everything. 

Sometimes I just want to be left alone, excuse me please,

I need to leave. 

I would like to keep self-pitying myself, and all that I do 

But I'm starting to feel guilty and realizing that it all isn't true. 

I no longer want to suffer in this box I have placed myself in, 

But I have been in here so long; I may die from sun exposure. 

When it comes to life decisions I repeat that I do not have a clue

But the truth is that I am very thoughtful and confident in most everything that I do. 

I may play dumb because it is easy but with myself I cannot lie, 

I pretend not to acknowledge that I'm living my life in disguise. 

Excuses for where my head's at, justifications for why I am late, 

I am beginning to think it is self-sabotage and that truly I may turn out great. 

I sigh in relief at the thought of it all, hoping to carry on with my head held high but just as I do, for a minute or two,

I begin again to ask myself why. 

I often get lost in the details and forget to listen to my heart, 

The only place that I find my sanity is writing here alone in the dark. 

No one truly knows where I come from,

I know that most don't give a damn.

Why should they? I don't.

I am constantly convincing myself to. 

I would like to reach out and touch you, 

To not cower from where I stand,

But the thought of it makes me queasy and I find it hard to stand. 

I often get lost in this vortex between my bed, the ground and my sheets, dreaming of what once was or what could be,

Analyzing it all for meaning. 

Comparing my cries for help to the bible,

The story of the man in the boat.  

Who denied all that came to save him,

When he could barely stay afloat. 

God will be my salvation he said,

Do not worry,

He surely won't let me down.

But when he died and he reached the gates of heaven he asked,

Why did you betray me? 

He ignored all the signs of salvation, 

All the people that reached out their hands,

And I fear that I too will end up drowning, a saddened fool.

I have come to few realizations

And in the midst I feel the wind at my feet. 

It keeps pushing me in different directions and although I was stuck before, I allow it to move me,

To sway me, and again, I start to see. 

When I ignore the inevitability that there soon will be change, 

A rush of alleviation fills my brain and the temporary endorphins convince me that I am happy, 

Content in my ways. 

I could be simple,

I say toward the end of the day,

When I think about what is to come. 

I will change my career goal to make more money,

There is nothing worth exploring out there. 

But my heart, it aches, knowing that these words are stuffing to fill the tears in my lining. 

Recently every situation has presented itself with life lessons. 

The people that I come into contact with, 

Serve as pieces of truths, 

Slowly but surely revealing themselves to me. 

I cling to their words, absorbing their advice like a dried out sponge coming into contact with water. 

I am thirsty for knowledge, 

I am open like the pores of the sponge. 

Spending my time searching for a release. 

No one thing satisfies me. 

Art. 

Music. 

Poetry.

All components of who I am.

I do not come to you for answers,

I have not one question to ask.

Flooded with thoughts of uncertainty.

Fear, I fear in itself.

I admire the brave face that they often use,

Others like me that quiver at these thoughts too.  

Just as well, I may walk away from this confession,

Pleased and feeling success.

For this pain that is ever enduring has slightly, momentarily,

Been lifted from my chest. 

Life Choices.

This part of my life is called life choices. I am entering a new etapa in my life. Movement is healthy and inevitable but nonetheless often uncomfortable. I am feeling a rush of changes coming my way. I am in my fifth year of college, soon to obtain my Bachelors in Communications and Spanish and just as well polish off my minor in Art Studio: Photography.

 I have no plan.

Please stop asking me how many interviews I have lined up or where I picture myself living or what specific positions I am applying for. I do-not-know.

You see, there's no book, there are no real rules, there's no specific course of destiny lined out for me and so my choices are really molded by whether doing so "feels" right or not. However the problem with feelings is that they are subjective. You can ask others for their opinions on your choice or your feelings but you are the only one that can truly determine what is right or wrong for you. Shit, that's a lot of pressure. 

While I'm sitting on this pile of emotions that I'm not sure how to deal with, I am allowing the soulful voices of Joss Stone, Keyshia Cole, Adele and Aretha Franklin's Chain of Fools to speak to me and fill my ears and heart with joy. 

I realized today that there is not necessarily a right or wrong choice that you can make when choosing a path, either could bring you life lessons, joy, love,heartache, fulfillment and regret, either, both, and it is up to you to pick that which "feels" right. Where do you see yourself in 10 years, they asked us in our senior seminar class. 10 years? I am not sure where my life will lead me in 6 months let alone 10 years. I perhaps we should have goals though. I would like to be doing something that makes a difference in this world and helps others. I would like to be happy. I would like to be financially sound... whatever that means. 

Right or wrong. Good or bad. Left or right. Yes or no. I suppose that the beauty of not having one shaman is that there are actually many and it us up to me to think critically, to use my resources, to listen to anything and everything and everyone, to weigh and measure, to create my own conclusions based on the wisdom of those that have chosen their paths before us, those that are walking alongside us and the feelings in my heart as well as the soundness of my mind. Balance. I am seeking a balance between all of these. I should put out an ad on Craigslist, seeking the perfect formula for balance in my life to be able to make proper future life decisions, serious inquiries only. 

Thank you. 

Signed, 

Maria- a good intentioned, social justice fighting, love seeking, student of the world, searching for guidance. 

Also... this song made my day. <3  Soy Afortunado, y eso soy, afortunada, para tener las oportunidades que tengo, para tener el poder de poder escoger, por estar/ser educada, yo tengo un sueño que nada ni nadie se puede robar de mi. 

I am everyone and everything.

My room is a dark place that doesn't feel like my own. The walls are tacked with pictures that I put up because I felt that I needed to. Cold. Sometimes temperature, sometimes the feeling. Shelves that I try to organize but really, what's the use? Bags of bags that I never use. A bulletin board that I thought would motivate me stays the same, old pictures that look to me as rather mundane. This mixture is not working. His stuff, my stuff. What stuff? We don't even use this stuff. It's just... Stuff. Although I've given much away, I don't know that giving it all away is the solution. I'd rather find it a home. If I move, can I have my own room? Will new walls fill this void that I have? Maybe I can not share a space until I have had my own. I have had my own though. I want others to change me, my disposition, to be my thriving force. I am realizing that it is a lot of pressure to put on the world. I should probably be my own motivation. This may sound rather silly. I realize that it must be a feeling within myself, however I was hoping it would come from some outside source. Maybe that way I could blame others when I don't have the energy to make things happen and life isn't going my way. Knowing that it's all on me, that's a lot of pressure. What do I do with it? Does it start with me changing my room? How much of it is up to me, there are other factors that affect me, my life and my space. The people that fill the space beside me. The energy of the space itself. Then there is me. How can I change the energy and be sure that I am surrounding myself with the right people? Should I stop focusing on others and just focus on myself? While yes seems to be the easiest answer, it is not the easiest choice to make. It is not a choice really, focus on me or focus on everyone and everything else in your life, it is a simultaneous living situation, it is inevitable, me, myself and everything and everyone. You can not just be YOU, I can not just be me, we are affected by all and so we are ourselves, and everyone and everything.