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.  

Things I just NEVER want to forget!

               How amazing it feels to travel,to submerse yourself in a second language,in an unfamiliar territory. Madrid Study Abroad 2012-2013=the most amazing, unique and unforgettable year of my life. I want to keep that spark with me forever and have those memories be the inspiration for the rest of my traveling life!❤

The hidden places you will find. 

Mis amigas del Coral Nayru! 

In Pamplona at the Running of the Bulls!

The beautiful people you meet along your journey and the impact that they end up having on your life, be it big or small, it mattered. 

The partying! Be the life of the party but also remember to live life and not get caught up in partying.

                                                  Il Duomo, Florence, Italy. 

                    The View from my balcony in Madrid, Spain. 

              The monuments and precious moments... Now left to a memory or a photograph but the nostalgia of looking through the pictures and reminiscing in the memories brings it all back! Never losing sight of your passions and what's important. I wouldn't be me if I didn't sing. Finding a choir abroad transformed my whole experience and reminded me of the "chispa" that is music, singing and choir! 

           

        Finding beauty in any thing and every thing! 

             

       Appreciating everyone in all of their natural,              beautiful-quirkiness. 

Taking time to yourself to both relax and enjoy, whatever it may mean to you. Sit in the grass, take a picture, take a walk, write a song. I do. And I want to remember how important it is to have quality time with myself. 

*All pictures were taken by myself during my study abroad last year in Spain. These are pictures I couldn't bring myself to erase from my phone without writing about them. There are so many wonderful people and experiences that I met and had that I still have yet to document, but soon enough, I will. :) 

Please read the letter that I wrote.

I don't think that those girls had very much self respect. 

I remember that they used to steal. My mom always taught me that stealing was wrong but her words suddenly floated away as I played the game of how many things I could sneak by store personnel. The saddest time wasn't being caught by my mom and humiliated in front of the store owners when she made me and my 9 year old best friend return the items and made my best friend go home a week early on our spring break, it was when I stole myself a dolphin necklace from the Disney store at Downtown Disney on my birthday. I would have much rather been at Disneyland but I knew that my mom did the best she could within our budget. Stealing makeup from a thrift store isn't on my high list either. I didn't see color, class or creed back then, all I saw was a playmate. I was as happy with dirt and a hose on a hot day as I would have been on vacation or in a mansion. 

It was a really hot day and we would pay to go to the community pool to cool off. Mom bought us swimming lessons there, we made friends and got comfortable with the diving board. We had made new friends recently, 3 girls, sisters and a boy-I don't think he was related to them. We all went to the community pool together. My little brother and I stood in a circle with them and talked about kid things. Thinking that they were talking about blow pens, the colorful marker like paints I'd heard of on tv, I nodded along. "What's a blow job?" I asked. I think we were 10. I didn't think that they were too different from me until they slept over at our house and one of them burned a hole in my mattress. We didn't see them many more times after that. 

Crazy. Sometimes poverty makes people crazy. Sometimes lack of education makes people go mad. Every once in awhile, you get out. We got out. " I always knew you and your brother were different," that's what my neighbor told me when I went home on holiday after leaving for college. 

I had to learn not to be ashamed, that some things are out of your control, are out of everyone's control. Some turned to God there and I could see how faith is what kept them going. Some were driven by drugs. I think I held my own, even as a kid, maybe I got away because people saw that. I got bullied. I was cursed out. Sometimes I knew it was because I was white. Sometimes I just really didn't know why. Some days I would cry and be full of anger but it slowly turned into respect, humbleness, appreciation, strength, value and even pride. I suppose things could have gone differently but then I wouldn't have learned to value people's stories. I didn't know what to say when my 14 year old neighbor got pregnant or another became a drug addict. I had known these girls since we were little and all played tag at night and took turns cooking meals for one another and danced to 90's music making up dance routines. Maybe they weren't my best friends but they were my friends. I do it for the little girl that still lives inside of me. The one I want to run to and hug, apologize to, answer questions for. I didn't know that he didn't love me, we were 14. It's not anyone's fault. It's not mine or mom's or my community's, it's life. I'm not better than them but I will fight to be the best that I can be. Sometimes it feels so hopeless being surrounded by it all, it would all be much easier if we could just pack up and leave. Some things would follow us, things that we probably would think that we'd be leaving behind, but it's true that most problems would stay. 

Some people fight dirty, I've noticed that they almost never win. My mom taught me to fight with kindness, to fight with my mind, with my actions, with my words. Sometimes I just have to express myself:sing, write, read, paint, photograph, draw, create, scream. Maybe those kids didn't know that there were so many ways to express themselves, countless non-destructive activities. I'm sure I could be a camp counselor but I'm not sure if as a kid I really cared what my camp counselors had to say. Well, there were some I liked. I went to a church camp for a few years starting from fourth grade. I thank God that my teacher asked me to stay after class one day to tell me about it. I received scholarships and went with my best friend at the time. Looking up at the stars and feeling free to cry in church were the most amazing things I was enabled to do as a kid. I'm sure a lot of kids felt the way that I did. 

I wanted Etnies and cable. My friend told everyone at the table that I was lying when I told them that I had cable too. I hated her for it. She would make fun of me a lot. She had parent issues but never had to deal with the financial struggle that we did. I wish that everyone judged you for your heart instead of the brand you repped. I don't like to think or talk about these things because I don't want to make my mother cry. I think the hardest days were when I made my mother cry. Sometimes I blame my dad. My mom yelled at me when I called him my 'sperm donor' one day, not wanting to acknowledge him with the word 'dad' or 'father.' I hate him. But I don't really. I blame him sometimes. Truthfully though, I barely spend anytime thinking about him. I think about my mom everyday. I may think about her every hour. I was jealous as a kid when my brother asked my mom to marry him, I wanted to marry her. I knew it wouldn't work out as he asked first. We used to dress him up in girly clothes and laugh until we couldn't breathe. 

We went to the park a lot, fed the ducks. I'll never forget the day my mom's friend, who drove food shipments around gave us about 20 leftover loaves of bread to feed the ducks. I can see the water, the sand, the landscape. The sun was fading into the dusk as we ripped open bag after bag and spread each piece of bread all over the sand. We stood back and watched the ducks go wild. It was exhilarating.

 There's so much more that I could say. Every deceit, tear, betrayal, every heart break, lesson, "whatever," the time we went to live in a home, the time our fish died and we buried them in our front yard and had to dig them back up again because they smelt, the day I put a flag pole in my mouth and went to open the car door and accidentally pushed the pole into the inside of my throat-leaving me coughing blood and throbbing with pain, we were on our way to a memorial service for 9/11, that's why we had flags. 

 I cried. The day we pulled up in front of the middle school that I was supposed to go to because it was in my district. I pleaded my mom, "please don't make me go here mommy, please!" The day that she registered us at our nearby middle school, 15 minutes north of our town, close, by proximity, but just far enough to be different, things changed forever, she was my hero. I never could tell you why my mom was my hero when I was young but I just knew that she was the first one that came to my mind. Now I see what she did for us. Strength. My mom is the strongest. She's like a superhero. She just needs a cape and a bat mobile. I think she must have been clairvoyant, seeing what our lives would have been had we let ourselves become victims of circumstance, swept up with the tide. I don't resent or regret any person or moment. I just want to learn from what I've experienced, what I've observed, what I am now educated enough to analyze and I want to make a change. An outsider can pity the poor and throw money at them but an insider knows the why and will ask the question of "how." How can I change this pattern? How can I save these kids from going down the wrong path and what can I do about it? Helping people doesn't happen from standing on a pedestal, real change occurs standing next to your fellow neighbors and offering a hand. I'm not going to run away from you because you're different, I'm going to offer my ear so that you have a friend to confide in, offer a hand so that you can build something or create a piece of work. Honestly it is the people that you meet in life that get you through, that you remember along the way, that inspire you, that save you, that acknowledge you, whose presence makes a difference, who encourage me, who I want to thank, who I want to be. I want to be a person that you remember. I want to inspire, encourage and listen like many did for me. I remember all the negative commentary but it's the positive messages that kept me going. Teachers, neighbors, counselors, friends, friend's parents, random encounters, thank you. I can love the world, I can save a life, I can motivate, I can listen, I can give, I can build, I believe, I don't always know why but I try. 

"Beautiful Disaster"

     I may not be ready for a happy ever after but I don't want to lose the happy of right now for the fear of settling down. However, it is impossible to be 100% of anything, if it feels like 100%, it is the illusion of certainty, only assured by what we define as instinct, a gut feeling, a warm sensation in the heart, a cloudy, rose colored view. Love. A connection that drives people mad. A sensation that can make you feel as though you are floating on clouds. It is not love that breaks your heart, it is people that break your heart. We can not take it out on love. In addition, true love is eternal, not the relationship necessarily but the feeling of caring, the compassion, the desire for that person to be truly happy at whatever cost. But "if i could hold on, through the tears and the laughter, would it be beautiful, or just a beautiful disaster?" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-DfblfF2_R0

No matter where life leads us, I'm so grateful to be able to say that we shared this adventure of life together. ♥ xo

"You wanna do something crazy?" I said.
"Sure!" he smirked as I walked into my bedroom. 
"I'm from L.A so I've never really seen the stars," I said as I walked out with blankets, gloves and beanies.
"It's kind of far," he said, not knowing how I'd respond.
"That's okay, we have time," I smiled.
"Alright let's go! But this time, I'm driving."

What a beautiful beginning to one hell of an adventure.                                                                             

                                                             

El Amor-Tito El Bambino