My thoughts linger around like the lights resonating from my snow globe. I wonder what its like to run three thousand miles deep in the sun. Far from the glowing thoughts.
The world twinkles, and rumbles a little too loud for me somedays. All I want to do is accomplish something but my creativity has its days. Somedays its hard to write a page, other days I can write 52 pages in one sitting.
Distractibility is my weakness when my mind is rewinding. Sometimes my mind is on hyper speed, somedays it takes forever to reboot.
I have batteries, they run out somedays. I have to change them to feel alive again.
My brain is twisted and turned around. All I need is a little sleep, a little energy, a little bit of a high to make me feel accomplished again.
My thoughts linger…
Sometimes, I write things that just simply don’t make sense…
Poetry from a rebooting brain isn’t meant to make sense but what work of art ever makes complete sense anyway?
An interesting journey I have been on this year was just finding myself on a deeper level. I had to find out what I really wanted in life, beyond the typical goals. I needed to find what brought sparks into my bloodstream and bones.
Sure, I want to graduate college, I want to find love, I want to move out, those are regular goals. Have you ever achieved a spiritual goal? Those are the best.
Spiritually, and mentally, I wanted to heal within. I wanted to find peace, connect with the world within me, not outside of me.
My mind has been a place I’d throw the worst of the worst in. Didn’t know that with a couple minutes of closing my eyes and saying what makes me grateful could change my whole day.
I realized all this sorrow, all the pain, all the endless turmoil I myself create, was not what life wants to teach me.
Life wants to teach me to simply live. If I keep living in the past, I am not living. If I keep dwelling on my anger, I am not living.
Life is here and now. Life is this moment as I write this. Spiritually, emotionally, and mentally I am growing and healing. It’s a journey I haven’t finished yet, but it’s a goal.
It is a goal I’ve never felt more content pursuing.
Thinking you are not good enough is like falling down a big black hole. The more you think you are below others, the more you will end up being it.
What we say to ourselves and into the universe, we manifest. When you spend the day cursing life away, you are cursing your own self.
A wise person once told me, what you say, you bring to life. We have two choices in life, to see the world in a negative light, or with positivity.
What we chose to open our eyes with, defines how our day will go.
It took me a while, but I learned that open eyes looking into the future glow with a unique light. Always open your eyes to the better, to the bold, to the beauty we hold.
Manifest what you want, not what you hate. Manifest the beauty behind our closed eyes. Beauty hides in the most positive visions we have…
I miss those late night conversations.
The conversations where you can just share every detail of your life and not regret it.
Late night conversations talking in a hushed voice so I wouldn’t wake anyone up.
Listening to the show you were ignoring in the background of the call.
I miss those late night conversations where I could sing and laugh at corny jokes.
Late night conversations where I don’t even think about how I have to be up in 5 hours.
I miss those late night conversations.
The conversations where we would send each other our worst pictures and make fun of each other.
Who doesn’t crave someone to have late night conversations with…
I am not running out of time. If anything I have an abundance of time.
I used to feel like I was on a time limit. The clock in me ticked aggressively.
I had writer’s block for the longest. My goal to write a book started biting my foot. It dragged me into the darkest of corners because I thought I was running out of time.
If I don’t publish a book soon, I would never amount to anything I thought. I learned that this clock in me only worsened my writer’s block.
I have so many dreams. This irrational fear that I would never reach them stems from my own self-doubt.
I doubted that I would make it as a writer. I doubted that I would live long enough to see my dreams come true.
That clock has to slow down. Life is counted but I will reach everything If I really want to.
Tic Toc… stop clock.
My dreams will come true, be it 22 or 52.
All that matters is that I do it. That I don’t give up on my goal.
The success of others can not be a measurement for my own.
Clocks tic for so many reasons but sometimes we have to reset it and place it back on 00:00.
My knowledge on life is based off everything I’ve lived. I’ve lived beautiful things but also encountered painful situations.
The thing about life is, you can either sit on your bed and drown in the negative, or count on the blessings in disguise.
I have come to the terms that my mind can be irrational, negative and catastrophic at times. That has done nothing but hold me back.
Try taking a test you studied for while thinking, “I am going to fail.” The mind goes blank. The mind freezes. That’s kind of what happens in life overall when you think negative.
The world freezes and all you see are gray clouds and rain. The sun disappears and so does the smile that was once on my face.
Self doubt is poison. Why judge everything we do or say? I decided I have to own my awkwardness, my irrational thinking and the embarrassing things I say or do everyday.
I got tired of creating my own hail storm everyday.
Clear mind equals free brain. Free brain equals peace. Peace equals maintaining that smile on my face.
Sometimes the most complicated and twisted just need love. A little bit of water and love can make any flower grow. Human beings like flowers need attention to survive. Sometimes those who are complicated, made of spirals and colors just need a little love…
Ever feel like life has become too much? Ever feel if like the world is squishing you, turning you into a tiny particle of dust?
I know I’ve reached days where I had a weight on my shoulder. Every single obstacle in my way accumulated on my shoulder. As I felt the tears fall down my face during those times, I thought when would the stress end.
Months later I realized, emotional pain sucks but it won’t last forever. Life can only get better. Only things that can get worse are obstacles but if you fight hard, they will die. You will live. Live to see that things do get better.
When I was a little girl, the world wasn’t as bright as it is now. See, I had obstacles from
a young age. As I aged, they only kept getting more intense until one day I vowed to only make life get better.
I made it out of the past and now all I have is the present. Now all I have is this moment. I choose to smile even when life gets rough because a smile heals the soul sometimes. When you grin or laugh, it’s like seeing beautiful butterflies in front of your face. For a second I forget what it feels like to frown as I hold that smile.
The present is all that matters because any day life can end. Why live in the past? Why obsess over the future? Right now, and I mean this exact moment you are alive and able to embrace the people around you.
Enjoy life while you can. Smile, laugh, and remember that the present is all that matters. Take a deep breath right now, close your eyes and thank destiny for making you the unique individual you are today.
Photo by Tabitha Mort on Pexels.com
As I laid on my bed in complete silence, I thought about the boy who I locked eyes with at the food court. His eyes were dreamy. There was something captivating about his mysterious eyes. He stared hard at me, contemplating whether secretly waving at me or walking away. Almost simultaneously, we looked away. I looked away for his safety and for my own wellbeing as well. I couldn’t forget his face. It wasn’t just because of his handsome exterior, there was a despondency behind his eyes. An overwhelming sorrow hid behind his almost concealed smile. Maybe he stood out to me so much because over the years I’ve been molded into a pure representation of sorrow as well.
There’s no such thing as “living” in my town, actually in my whole country. We’re alive yet dead inside. We live a life of no choices, options or freedom. Everything we do and who we talk to in the course of our manipulated lives is predetermined since the day of our birth. I spent hours questioning the meaning of life, asking myself, “How is this living?” The government gave us three laws, 1) Respect the government and presidential family, 2) Love the government and 3) Smile at all times.
As I lay on my bed, I feel my body shiver as the cold wind creeps through the crack on my window. My bedroom walls are filled with posters of our all mighty leader, President Trudent. Only in my mind can I call him President Evil. If anyone dares to speak in public of their distaste for him, they would be risking a painful execution. My thoughts about hatred and sorrow were interrupted by my little twin sisters screams.
“Serenity! Scarlett kicked me!”
“No, I didn’t! She’s being a little baby Serenity.”
Here we go again. Once again, they are fighting. I would have thought twins would be close and united. Scarlett and Evalyn were nowhere near united. My family is pretty wealthy, I guess all the money and toys turned my once adorable baby sisters into spoiled eight-year old’s. The money and toys never got to me. How could it while others are dying of poverty and agony? How could I even dare flaunt my money around?
“Serenity! Scarlett’s still hitting me! Get down here.”
I jumped in the elevator and in a matter of seconds appeared in the living room.
“What now? Scarlett stop hitting your sister. Hug each other and behave. Why are you guys arguing anyway?”
Little rebellious Scarlett jumped on the couch and exclaimed, “I want to be like president Trudent! Evalyn said President Trudent is stupid so I hit her.”
I was shocked and exasperated by Scarlett’s statement.
“Look at me now little girl. Actually, both of you look at me. Scarlett don’t you dare want to be like President Trudent. Evalyn don’t you dare utter those words outside of this home. I probably sound very confusing right now. Guys trust me, this government is nothing to trust. It is an oppressive mess… Just sit still and watch TV You guys are still too young to understand…”
They stood still, I guess my aggressive tone shocked them because surprisingly they sat down and began watching cartoons. Scarlett and Evalyn were never exposed to the evil of our government. They are being brainwashed by the educational system. I, on the other hand, was able to witness poverty and the evil behind our government before they were born. I was adopted by Scarlett and Evalyn’s parents when I was 6 years old. I still remember how my mother’s tears fell on my face. I was born to a maid who worked hard to keep me alive. Since I was born in the lower class, the government refused to educate me. Mother always said, “They try to keep us ignorant so that we can blindly follow them. I will educate you myself. I’ll keep you from becoming just another puppet under the control of injustice.” My mother told me the real story behind the government. The story that gets ignored and censored out of every history lesson taught to the youth of my country.
I remember the day my ears were opened to the story of how this country became the repugnant Roseland. I was a joyful 5-year-old. My mother came home, and I was watching the news with my uncle. President Trudent was giving his regular 5:00 speech.
“Fellow Roselanders, it is time to give our daily salute to me, your all mighty leader and to our beautiful, humble country. Our country which shines so bright! We must all be proud of our government, the best one on earth! Remember, smile at all times.” He gave the camera his typical bright smile. Such a beautiful smile on a pitiful and worthless man. After his moment of fake smiling, he said, “All rise.” My uncle and I stood up and we put our hands over our hearts while listening to the national anthem.
My mother just stood there and said, “Serenity, what are you doing? Put your hand down, he doesn’t deserve your respect…”
My uncle looked at my mother and in a concerned tone spoke to her.
“Catherine, it is the law to salute to President Trudent’s speech. I would suggest you keep your child safe by showing her how to be a proper Roselander. Do you want to risk execution one day? Do you? Just do what you are told, even if it is faked. Just smile…”
With no hesitation, my mother replied to him.
“My daughter deserves a life where she can think for herself. Come Serenity, let’s go to your room.”
Being a young child, I didn’t understand my mother’s frustration with my uncle or government.
“Mommy why is it bad to praise Roseland and President Trudent. Why do you hate them so much?”
We entered my tiny, fallen apart room and she sat me on my bed and held me in her arms.
“You’re so young, so innocent. You’re so full of hope. I wish you could remain this way forever, but I need to open your eyes to the truth. It may destroy your innocence or fracture it, but I rather do it myself than let life slap you hard in your face one day…”
I remained quiet. I tried imagining life being a huge entity in the shape of a hand, getting ready to slap me in the face. I tried to envision how the truth would feel after the slap. Would it be scary? Would it destroy me?
“Sweetie 500 years ago in the year of 2556 our country had a different name. It was an extremely different place. One of our ancestors was a famous book author who during the years 2556 through the year 2575 documented how Roseland became what it is today in a journal. This journal has been passed down from generations in our family, in the year 2590 our ancestors secretly began circulating her journal throughout the lower-class citizens. Under a different name of course, if the government found out the origin of the book our whole family would have been annihilated.”
My mother quickly ran into her room and came back with an old-looking book. It was a copy of Marjane Cruz’s, my ancestors, journal.
“Really mommy? Wow! 500 years is a lot.”
My mother giggled and said, “Yes my child, 500 years is an extremely long time. Back in the year 2556, Roseland was a great powerful nation. It was the land of freedom, well that’s what the old government used to say. People were free to talk about anything and could talk to whomever they wanted to about anything. Back then people had the right to have an opinion.”
“People talked even about the president mommy?”
“Yes sweetie, even about the president. There was even something called, Public schools. Public schools were where hundreds and thousands of children were educated.”
“Wait! What? Wow, so kids studied together? That’s so different! The government makes kids study at home. My friend Laura has a neighbor whose rich. She said her neighbor studies in her house. Every rich kid does.”
My mother laughed at how excited I got and said, “Yes, kids could make any friends in school. Poor or rich, you were allowed to get an education. A teacher taught the students.”
“A robot teacher mommy? Laura’s neighbor has a robot teacher.”
“No sweetie they were human beings like us. People made of bones and flesh. People with emotions just like us sweetie.”
I remember being fascinated by the way my mother described this utopia that once existed in my dystopia.
“Mommy, if that year the government was so great, then why did things change?”
“Bullying, my dear. The bullying started it all.”
That was my first encounter with that word. I wondered what mysterious thing bullying could’ve been. The word didn’t sound scary, nor malicious.
“Bullying was the beginning of what caused Roseland to change. Bullying was the root of destruction. It’s intoxicating how us humans ourselves let bullying turn a utopia into a society where happiness has to be faked. Bullying is when you put down others because of the way they look, act or feel. Serenity imagine being constantly ridiculed because you’re poor.”
“That’s mean mommy, that would make me feel sad.”
“Exactly Sweetie. Kids, teens and even adults did this to each other. Bullying caused people to deal with depression. Depression makes a person never want to smile. It’s a sadness so deep that life becomes painful.”
“Mommy, depression would be against the law then. The law is 1) Respect the government, 2)Love the government and 3)Smile at all times. President Trudent must never get depressed because he always smiles.”
“Yes sweetie, depression, well showing your depressed would be against the law…” Anyways, President Trudent’s ancestor was what started this dystopia… Before he became the beloved president of Roseland he was a loving single father to a little girl named Rose. She was born with a mark that took up half of her face. She suffered from depression due to the constant bullying in her school. His love and protection weren’t enough to keep her away from the bullies all around her. Nor was it enough to help her overcome her depression. Rose ended her life at the age of 15.”
My heart sank. I wondered how much pain a person had to feel in order to ever take their own life. Hearing the story of a young girl committing suicide didn’t destroy my innocence but it sure did in a way sadden my young heart.
“What happened after she died mommy?”
“Well, her father a couple of years later became president. He was known for his slogan, “I’ll help make us shine like a newly grown rose.” During his presidency bullying and suicide were so common that every week it was on the news. At this point, I think president Trudent’s ancestor was losing his mind. It seemed as if all he wanted to do was end bullying. He closed public schools. He became powerful and drove fear into the American people. People tried stopping him but president Trudent’s ancestor had a military and army weapons under his control. For centuries president Trudent’s family has been in control. Till this day they are and will always be our bullies… The man was right in a way, the only way to stop bullying is to become the bully of the bullies themselves…”
After the day my mother told me the story behind the government I viewed life in a confusing way. I loved it because I had my mother and uncle. I also hated it because the rich had it all, all smiles were forced, and our laws were based off fear.
After Scarlett and Evalyn stopped fighting I sat outside on my front steps. A group of teens ran passed me, they were wearing masks. Purple masks I’ve never seen before. I suddenly heard a voice say, “turn around.” It was the boy I locked eyes with at the food court. He handed me a note and a purple mask, then quickly ran away. He was smart, as long as he and I don’t vocally communicate the chip implanted in our bodies wouldn’t detect it. That’s how the government can tell when people outside of each other’s social classes are communicating, which is against the law. Once you are adopted, they switch the chips in your body to match the social class you were adopted into.
The letter read,
Remember me? It’s Haven. I know I look different now. I lost all the baby fat and cut my hair. Rebecca, Lilly, Joseph and I have been looking for you ever since your mother died… I hope you haven’t forgotten about us. After your mother’s death, many of us swore revenge on the government. It’s either now or never Serenity. We started a group called the Masked Rebels. We’re going to bring justice to your mother. It’s about time Roseland changes and for the better. We meet every Tuesday under the abandoned market. I’ll be around your house Tuesday at five.
I was shocked, Haven, my old childhood friend! I felt the 5-year-old in me awaken. Tears poured out of my eyes. They were warm, they were warm like the feeling in my heart. Although seeing Haven again brought back beautiful memories it also brought back the memories of my mother’s death. My mother was killed by a cop for disobeying the law. My mother’s biggest downfall was her big heart. My neighbors were being executed in front of their home after their 3-year-old daughter repeated the words, “I hate president Trudent,” in front of a cop. The cop questioned the parents where the child learned the “evil” phrase. They asked for forgiveness and said the child will never say it again. The cop with no remorse shot the father and mother. The baby was next, my mother ran and tried to stop the cop. She and the baby were shot…
My uncle wanted a better life for me and knew he wasn’t going to be able to provide for me. With pain in his heart, I was put up for sent to a government facility where the poor could place any minors for adoption. Adoption was a gateway out of poverty. Only the rich had the power and right to adopt. That day I slept with the note haven gave to me in my hand. I waited for Tuesday to come with an emotion-filled anticipation.
Tuesday came, and I woke up with a nervous feeling. “Serenity you’ve been acting strange, are you ok?” My adoptive mother was concerned, constantly checking up on me, bringing me cookies. I’ve grown to love her. She’s my best friend in a way. It hurt hiding the note from her and keeping a secret so big, but I knew if I told her she wouldn’t let me join the Masked Rebels.
Five O’clock finally arrived and I sat on my front steps waiting for Haven. He arrived at 5:01, he handed me a note. It said,
I knew you would come, put on your mask.
I had a pen and notebook to communicate with him. I wrote,
It’s about time we start a revolution.
I grabbed his hand out of nervousness and excitement then in silence Haven and I walked. At the meeting there was pure silence, everything we wanted to say was through writing. We were about 30 teens all from different social classes. Haven wrote on a smart board, 1) Gain followers, 2) Have faith, not fear and 3) Smile but out of joy. We all silently looked at each other and smiled, some cried but out of hope. That was the beginning of the Masked Rebels…
To be Continued…
The Journey Awaits
I have had several years of wondering will I make it? Will I graduate? Will I get out of this toxic relationship? Will I find myself and love myself? Endless questions that sooner or later I answer. The answer is almost always, “yes.”
Now I know that when I ask myself will I, I know deep inside the “will I” becomes I do, I am or I can. It’s faith. Faith because I’ve learned everything eventually falls into place. My favorite thing about who I am now in life is that I don’t question my abilities.
I used to say, “I am not capable.” I’ve heard people tell me, “You are not capable.” I’ve heard people tell me, “You can’t do that.” I constantly prove people wrong, not for them but for me. The worst person to say, “You can’t do this,” is not them, it’s you.
What we tell ourselves is way more toxic than what others tell us sometimes. Have you ever looked in the mirror and said, “I am ugly,” “I am not worthy.” It can kill the way you feel each time you see your reflection.
Turn will I, into I will, I do, I am. Keep the faith that things will fall into place. Years later, my life feels like its falling into place. Years later I know I am unbreakable.
Love yourself, believe in yourself.
Simply look in the mirror and say, “I can.”
(Thank you guys for reading this post. I am currently collecting answers for my survey, its for one of my college courses. If you can please fill it out and submit)
Anxiety grabs me by my feet and takes me on this involuntary journey.
I didn’t sign up for the ride but my body decided its time for it.
I feel cold and sweaty.
My teeth chatter as if I were on snowy land, high up on a mountain.
Deep breaths they say, deep breaths.
But how can I take deep breaths when all I feel is breathless.
I hold my tongue and try not to curse my own mind.
Anxiety riddled me, trapped me and took me on this ride.
Once it’s over, I feel alive again.
I feel in control of life when it’s over.
But here and there I get that fear that I will once again be forced on this journey.
Anxiety, the involuntary rollercoaster ride.
Take a look at the sky in the darkness of the night. The dark illuminates with stars in the sky. Only on my island have I seen stars shine so bright.
Fireflies buzz away across the street where my grandfather keeps his chickens and his crops. City life could never compare to the life on my island.
My grandfather wakes up every morning and feeds his animals. I woke up every morning to the sound of roosters singing the song of my island.
My grandmother danced and cleaned the morning away. She put her long black hair in a pony tale and the music began to flow around my head.
Children ran as fast as the motorcycles on the streets. My neighbors would come over at 12 and we would eat together. Everyone eats at 12pm on my island. My grandmothers biggest cause for complain was not having lunch cooked by 12.
The people on my island worked all day long but as soon as it was the weekend no one complained but just gave thanks to God. They gave thanks for the rain, for the sun, for the roosters, for the beautiful, and even the bad.
“Appreciate the bad. It only makes us stronger.”
“Appreciate the dark because even in the darkness there is some light.”
My island, a place where I learned simplicity is the biggest gift in life.
I have a feather in my heart.
Before it used to be a rock, but now my heart is as light as it’s ever been.
You make me feel like I am on a cloud.
Watching the world beneath me, enjoying the sounds of the cars below and the planes soaring by me.
You make me feel like the world makes sense.
You make me feel like the future is reachable and no longer too far away.
I start seeing the world in your hands.
Intertwined with mine.
I see the sunset in your eyes every time you smile.
The moon glistens in your soul.
I see the world become peaceful when in your arms.
You make me feel like a walking metaphor.
An artistic play on life.
You make me feel one hundred percent alive.
I see you asking the world where to go.
Should you float away left, right?
Should you hide under a rock and forever hide.
I hold your hand and you shy away.
I lay my head on yours and you don’t know what to do.
Like a butterfly, you shy away.
You sense me coming and fly away.
Have you been hurt so many times that the world is no longer livable?
Have you forgotten that touch, love, and sympathy are applicable?
I see you.
All lost and stuck in your head.
Can you embrace your colors?
Fly like a butterfly onto my hands and see that there’s no need to fly away.
The world won’t hurt you,
Especially if I’m the one holding your hand…