I am like the dead sea.

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There are moments in your life where you want to forgive. Forgive just for the sake of finally forgetting. Good times, bad times, and even the ugliest of times. Maybe that’s where I find myself categorizing you. I want to forgive you. I want to forgive every hopeless thing you ever did to me. Forgive every time you said the words and never took them back. Forgive the times you made me believe in fairytales and the hope that things would get better. Instead, I find myself forgetting you without forgiving you. Forgetting you in favor of letting go. Letting go would mean that it would finally be over and I’d have nothing left to hold on to. This tainted memory of an unbiased image of you and the regret you left me with.

I can’t forgive you. The more I try to say the words, I can’t bring myself to do it. How could I forgive someone that has never said “I’m sorry”?  How do you become the bigger person in a situation that left you beyond repair? I can’t keep playing the victim. I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt, when it does. When my heart can’t open up the way it used to. When my soul still searches for an ounce of goodness in a vile person like you. You always said I was the better person. Lately, I just don’t feel like myself. I stopped believing in so many things that I’ve forgotten what my purpose is. I’ve continued to wipe my slate clean, but I never start over. Forgiving to forget you, when all I want is to forgive the things I can’t forget.

In a year, you said I would find my way to hate you. In reality it took me too long to come to terms with hating you. I can’t hate anybody. As much as I have the ammo to hate you, I can’t. Maybe deep down I am trying to be the good person you once saw in me. I just get so clouded with memories that its hard to remember who I used to be. I used to be so many things. I used to be a person in love and now I have nothing to show for it. I used to believe in lot of things and lately I just can’t begin to start. Forgiving is easy, forgiving is being free of all the hurt that the past has dealt you. The more I start to forgive, the angry I become with myself. The person I was in the past still with the mistakes of yesterday. No matter how many steps I take forward, I find myself running back. Back to the familiar, back to the stupid nonsense bullshit I should be over with.

You told me not to trust you, and that’s just what I did. You told me not to love you, and that’s just what I did.

Believing every word that I’ve tried so desperately to forget. Putting my trust in a person far to broken to ever understand the meaning of love. I know to love a person is to fully let go of yourself and put the trust in someone else’s hands. But I want it back. All of it. Everything that you put me through, every vile bullshit thing you said to me. I didn’t deserve it. I deserved better and you always knew that.  Finally, I know that now. I want it back. All of it. Every tear, every smile, every time I brought you up that you didn’t hesitate to bring me back down. I want the tiny broken fragments of my heart back. The heart you so carelessly tossed aside and I without hesitation gave to you. It’s the only thing I desperately want back. The one thing I find myself missing in the end. It’s only when I have everything back that I can fully forgive you.

I have to be the bigger person to forgive you. Forgive every word that brought me to tears. Every frightening word that cut through me worse than any knife could. To allow my soul to rest and my heart heal, I have to forgive you. Only then will I be truly able to forget you and finally let you go. I know I’ll never get the apology, I’ve wanted from you. To be honest I don’t want anything from you anymore. Even the heart that I’ve lost, will not return to me. Eventually I’ll get a version of my heart back, maybe not in the way it was before. Stronger, better, who knows. I am okay with that because in the end, I have to forgive. Forgive the past, forgive you and more importantly forgive myself.  I know, I deserve better. Next time I won’t be so careless with my heart. Next time I’ll know that I have to love myself before ever trusting a mirror image of you. When I can forgive myself is when I can forgive you. Until then I have a long ways to go.

dead sea

 

 

**This post was written a few months ago in my journal. While I do not harbor the same feelings I once did, I just wanted to revisit this and write it down publicly. Putting this post out is finally coming to terms and getting a sense of closure on this previous chapter of my life. I’m okay now, I promise. **

Liebster Award.

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Imagine my surprise when the lovely Jessica Lynn of Wildflowers for Brunch nominated me for a Liebster Award. Not only am I totally stoked and extremely honored, it made me feel downright special. I absolutely love reading Jessica’s twitter (we are totally twitter friends!) and her blog is equally amazing. If you don’t already follow her I highly suggest a follow to her blog/twitter!!!

The Liebster Award is a great way discover and give recognition to new blogs!

Here’s the deal, once nominated you must:

  • Write 11 facts about yourself
  • Nominate 5-11 bloggers for the Award
  • Answer 11 questions provided by the presenter, then write 11 questions for your nominees

 

11 Random Facts about Me:

1. My name is Martha Elizabeth. However I do not like my first name. Therefore I usually go by my middle name or my family name “Ellie”.  My oldest friends still call me by my first name but I cringe every time I hear that name.

2.  I drink more iced tea than humanly possible.

3.  My birthday is on Halloween. However I never celebrate Halloween. I’ve always celebrated my birthday first then Halloween second.

4. Baseball is one of my favorite sports. My favorite team is the Oakland Athletics. Yes, I do have baseball superstitions. Yes, they are real.

5. I have a weird connection with the number “5”. Its a number that always pops up randomly. Either my change will be in all 5’s or I’ll be at register 5, or just weird little occurrences with the number.

6. Being of Mexican descent, I am very picky about Mexican food.  I can’t eat just any where and anyone’s food.

7.  I have 5 tattoos. For personal reasons only 2 are visible and 3 are hidden.

8. I believe that if you do not like 90’s hip-hop & r&b, we cannot be friends.

9. I am a magazine hoarder. TRUST when I say, it’s bad

10.  Breakfast food is the best food. Especially waffles and pancakes. Yeah, I said it.

11.  I have a huge fear of being abandoned. Which is why I don’t camp or do anything with the outdoors. I’ve watched too many of those wilderness survival shows and that will not be happening to me!

 

Jessica’s Questions:

  1. If you were a tea, what flavor would you be? Is it wrong that I’ve actually thought of this? I would be Ginger Peach and I would be Iced. If you haven’t tried it before, it’s magical.
  2. What is the first song you ever fell in love with? “If I fell” by the Beatles. It brings back so many childhood memories.
  3. What book most accurately expresses your viewpoint on life? Mindy Kaling’s “Is everyone hanging out without me”.  It was like everything I was thinking put into print. Word for word.
  4. In one word, describe how 2014 is going so far. Relaxed. Its less chaotic, no drama, less bullshit, just spiritually in a better place.
  5. What is your favorite perfume scent? Marc Jacobs “Cotton”. I try not to use it often but honestly it’s one of the most cleanest and happiest scents
  6. Invent your ideal milkshake. What’s in it? Chocolate and peanut butter. Two of the best combinations ever.
  7. Are you a fox or a hedgehog? SONIC THE HEDGEHOG
  8. Which FRIENDS character are you? I used to believe Rachel until I started a complete re-watch of the series. Now I just think I’m the female Chandler.
  9. Describe your ideal lazy day.  Without a doubt have to be large consumptions of food, coffee, tea. Either reading a great book or watching all of my great films. That’s as lazy as I get.
  10. You get to re-invent the rainbow with seven colors of your choosing. What are they? it would definitely be just variations of the color green. Just a rainbow of ombre greens!!!
  11. What is your favorite Wes Anderson movie?  The Royal Tenenbaums. For many multiple reasons but mainly because of Margot Tenenbaum.

 

Now that I have answered, I would like to nominate the following:

Lily – I Want to be the Girl with the Most Cake

Hilda – 30 Into the Three-Oh

Nina – The European Redhead

Katzi – She Loves You and So do I

Crystal – Imakesht

 

These are my questions:

 

1. What is the last purchase you made?

2. What is your favorite article of clothing?

3. Is there anything you have left to accomplish before 2014 is over?

4. What is your current favorite album at the moment?

5. What is the one song that always reminds you that everything is going to be okay?

6. What and where is your favorite hometown hangout?

7. If you could give one piece of advice to people, what would it be?

8. Favorite quote that motivates you:

9. Who would you cast to play you in the movie of your life?

10. What is your guilty pleasure snack?

11. What is your favorite TV sitcom of the 90’s?

 

Thank you, thank you, thank you to the lovely Jessica! Do yourself a favor and head on over to her blog!!! http://www.wildflowersforbrunch.com.

To my favorite lovely people that I have nominated, have fun! Don’t forget to send me the link of your finished product :)

 

 

Need you like water in my lungs.

This story’s old but it goes on and on until we disappear.

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You feel it.

This silent disconnect from the world.  Floating in the sea and feeling the weight of the world pull you down into the ocean. Drowning yourself in the pain of your own sorrows. Lifeless with no will to fight anymore. The words that you’ve allowed to infect your soul just weighing you down one by one. Thinking of every memory of your past and watch it come apart in your present. Knowing better than the truth and watching yourself succumbing to it’s reality. The lies of someone else’s belief of the truth. The broken parts you can’t help but watch fall even further apart. Believing the same lies and beating yourself up from being fooled for the last time. Deep down you fall deeper in the ocean of these regrets. Knowing better but wishing things had been different. Words were once wishes and desires for something better. Clinging for hope in the mist of desperation. There was once something held so beautifully and now you watch it wash away the deeper you fall. Below the surface and deeper into the abyss. You become the dead weight that others so proudly called you. Lifeless and alone.

I spoke the words but never gave a thought to what they all could mean.

It’s harder to breathe. The venom filled garbage you tell yourself is what suffocates you. You lose the air that you once held so superior above everything else. Replacing it with every negative aspect of your life. The sorrow, the sadness, and at times even the madness. Asking for things to change and accepting the every ounce of the bullshit you feel. Everything inside of you just begging to be set free but no matter how many times you say the words you don’t believe them. The will you had to continue on has frozen inside and sunk below sea level. Trying desperately to grasp it and all you have left are water filled lungs and this emptiness inside. You go through the movements but still feel nothing. Setting your sails up for failure and watching yourself disappear towards the sea. The water is the only thing that will calm your bones. Calm the craziness of the storm that you hold inside of you. Suppressing the screams of madness you hide from the world.

Watching this storm throw your body off course. The rain merged with the tears and all you want is to succumb to it. Allowing the words to cut through you as the wind does. The storm falls short on your own sadness and the more you wish for yourself to wash up on the shore, you can’t. You fall deeper into the sea wishing to disappear. No one knows your sadness better than this storm. The words that haunt you and wash you off course. The salt of your tears matched perfectly with the sea.

But the wrong words will strand you.

Believing those lies. Believing even the kindest of hearts could ever be so impure. Knowing how much love is a risk and at any given moment it will strand you. Still you hold on to the words as unkind as they are because deep down you believe them. They hurt more than anything and still like clockwork you believe them. They were once the hope to get better and now they’re the stones that sink you straight to the bottom. The deep blue sea is a forgiving place but all you want to do is forget. Forgetting is easy for the sailors that play their part. You can’t control the emotions of others, therefore you throw yourself from the sand further to the sea. Sailing away to disappear to forget everything. Everything that caused an ounce of sadness. Everything that made the hurt of heartbreak. Everything that made the illusion of disappearing a dream and the running away a fantasy. You can’t escape the words as much as you can’t escape the sea. The more you think you need someone is the day they let you down. The day they go from saint to sinner, from sailor to stranger.

Needing you is needing forgiveness from a storm. Needing you is needing rain in a never ending drought. Needing you is like needing water in my lungs.

And this is the end.

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You are my center when I spin away.

It’s the nights that keep you wondering. Your thoughts that manage to keep you up at night. No matter how many times you toss and you turn, you just can’t keep the images out. The same people, different faces. The same words, different spaces. This recurring deja vu that haunts you when you sleep. You pick the darkest of the nights to disappear from the world. Fall beneath the cracks and you grab only what you need.

Hit play.
Press Repeat.

You play that song. That one song that you lose everything to. That one that keeps the screams inside, keeps the madness and even the demons at bay. The melody hits, hums and you synchronize your breathing to it. You slowly disappear into the music. Reciting every line by memory and falling deeper inside the melody. The words hit you colder than any winter wind could. You embrace it. All you want is to run away. Running away into the night and fall deeper into the darkness. Watching the mist of the cold swallow you whole and watch yourself disappear. In the darkness is where you leave the worry, the sadness and even the regret. You release all the fears, mistakes and even all the madness you can’t get out in waking day. Lies you continue to tell yourself and for one brief moment you are free. The morning comes and it all disappears. The light washes away the darkness and a new day is upon us. All you have left of the night is the same song you repeat to yourself. The same melody haunts your memories as a soundtrack to your dreams.

No matter how many times you’ve heard that song, it helps you through the day. The lines that stick like second skin to your soul. The melody that transports you to different places and different times. You remember the sadness of being broken and the happiness of being loved. It all disappears the moment the song ends and you can’t help but restart. You love how it haunts you but you hate how it leaves you. Not broken, not sad, just closed off from the world and the people that don’t understand. No one understands this song better than you. Nobody. Then you fall even deeper than you did before.

Slowly you start feeling better. Slowly you find yourself listening to that song less. It’s there when you need it, right where you left it. Only to return when you need it the most. When you’re heart is heavy and you can’t help but fall back to that point. When your mind starts to wonder to the past, the present and even your sick twisted visions of the future. It will be there. Just where you left it. Waiting.

And it will be okay.

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes, I still need you.

Heart skipped a beat.

Words have a way of infecting your soul. Even more so in lyrical musical form. How haunting the arrangements, how thrilling the words. The way they cut you straight to the core, straight to your soul. You can’t help but form a tiny sense of nostalgia. The memories of your past that always seem to haunt you. It starts to flow right out of you and you can’t help but find yourself saying “Sometimes, I still need you“.

Maybe it’s a source of weakness. The weakest link just knowing that when you least expect it, you go rushing back to the one thing that will always let you down. You know it. The whole world knows it but you just can’t help yourself. You miss that moment when your heart would skip a beat for someone. The hurt and the pain come naturally, just like second nature. You put yourself out there and find yourself back at the bottom. You wonder why you continue returning to this sinking ship and again you just couldn’t help yourself. Sad is better than lonely.

How you do recover from your biggest heartbreak? When all you do is constantly return to the scene of the crime. You wish for things to be different. They never are. One day it would will be different. One day you’ll be strong enough to let go and be done with everything. Eventually this will all be a small footnote in the story of your life. Until then you keep coming back because you allow it happen. Everyone can tell you how wrong it is, but you do it anyway. Its the thrill of the past that keeps you holding on. The memories of a connection you had with someone that no matter the outcome it all seemed worth it.

It’s starts with a voice and ends with a song. The melody keeps the memories trapped until you hit repeat. Replaying every memory that you can’t help but reach out for. It’s all there taunting you and no matter how many times you say no, you can’t help yourself. Its brings you back in. Back in for the hurt, the pain, and more importantly the regret. It’s never worth it. You end up right back where you started from. The sickness worse than the flu and this rush of a thousand tears that never stop falling. Like clockwork it’s over and eventually you move on. You just couldn’t help yourself, you just couldn’t fucking help yourself.

Sometimes, I still need you.

Magic’s in the Makeup.

Can you tell I’m faking it?

Photographs have of a way of telling half a story. Just a tiny glimpse of what we want the world to see through perfectly strategic settings and beautifully flattering filters. Telling everyone what you want them to believe. It’s amazing to see life through other peoples perceptions of you. Yet you can’t help but wonder how many people really see the real you. How many people can tell the façade from the reality. A picture is worth a thousand words but how many of those words are the real thing?

Not at my best time but don't I look great. 2007 / 2008.

Not at my best time but don’t I look great. 2007 / 2008.

The past couple of months and in doing this blog, I have found myself faced with reality on numerous occasions. The countless lies I’ve told, the stories, and even going through the photographs of my past. What makes a photograph from when I was 23, different from the photograph of myself at 31? My reality and what I wanted you to believe.  I controlled the story I wanted to tell. I orchestrated the image of myself I wanted you to see. I did it. Because telling the lie was easier than telling the truth about my problems. Nobody asks any questions when you put your life out there for the world to see. It’s only what you don’t put forth in the world that gets people asking the questions. It’s easy to pretend to be someone else in a photograph. Someone better than who you really are. Finding the perfect angles, cropping your best features, and believing that you’re going to be okay. I believed that for years. This perfect image I put forth in the world was who I really was. I wasn’t okay.

Make-up’s all off. Who am I?

For six years I suffered with an eating disorder to the point of obsession. You don’t realize how much of a problem you have until it consumes you and controls every part of your life. I hid that from everyone. 6 years of photographs standing by countless people who didn’t have a clue about my life. Who didn’t know that every countless excuse I made to go home early was so I could throw up my food in the dark confides of my home. Counting the consumption of calories and calculating what I could throw up later in the time I had left. It became a sick twisted sport and I was fucking good at it. My gums bled and my teeth hurt and I didn’t care because an acceptance to be perfect was better than being ignored. I believed it.  I became obsessed with my abilities to hide my problem that it over powered my past problems. This became bigger than my depression, bigger than my cutting, it was a problem I could hide through the photographs. Nobody knew.

You want to believe that you have control of your problem. I wanted to believe that. For the days I threw up my food, I counted the days I didn’t. When my weight wasn’t matching up or the healthy alternative ways weren’t working, I went back to vomiting. I turned this problem on, I could very easily turn it off. For every bad day I had, I just binge ate then hid in the bathroom. I blamed food poisoning, cramps, the flu, everything except the problem at hand. I refused to believe I had a problem. I could control this problem, I could stop everything as soon as I was ready. I believed it. It started because of this need for acceptance, this belief that every photograph was closer to my true self. I knew it was wrong, I knew of the consequences and still I believed I could control this. The reality of it was I couldn’t control my problem. Every time I hid this problem the worse it got.

I believed I was okay. In some twisted fucked up way I had everything under control. I would go months without vomiting and then something would trigger it to happen again. I grew this fear of food, this obsession that everything I ate was a consequence for my mistakes. The love I once had for food became this hatred toward it. It was so easy to pretend this wasn’t a problem. I just couldn’t stop. Then comes a point in your life where you can’t do it anymore. Where the pure exhaustion of life just has you at your wits end. I reached my breaking point and after six years of hurting myself physically and emotionally, I couldn’t do it. It was bigger than anything I could ever imagine. I wish I could say that everything disappeared and I healed myself but every day is a struggle. I had to learn to love imperfections within myself. Watching my body change isn’t easy and as much as I want to resort to old ways, I couldn’t. It became my quest to get better. Another struggle that I told nobody about. While people poked fun at my weight gain, for the first time I didn’t cry. I started writing down everything I ate and with the miracle wonders of social media I started documenting every meal I ate. For every picture I took of my food, it was my silent trophy that I ate that and was okay with it.

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There’s always going to be a part of me that’s broken. A part of me that’s messy with imperfections but I have to be okay to live with that. I am always going to be my hardest critic but at the end of the day I have to be okay with not being perfect. No one’s perfect. It’s been two years since I have vomited my food. Two years since I let this sickness consume my life. I wish I could say that it has been an easy recovery, but it hasn’t been. Some days are easier and some days are harder. I am better than all this bullshit and you know what? I am doing the best I can.

My true essence. Photo Credit: Jazelle Prado.

My true essence. Photo Credit: Jazelle Prado.

We all self concious, I’m just the first to admit it.

Life has a funny way of turning you into the one thing you don’t want to be.

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Its funny.

It’s just easier to make a joke out of something then coming out and stating how you really feel. How you put yourself out into the world is how you want to feel on the inside. However it’s nothing close to how you’re feeling. It doesn’t even compare. For the sake of the story you make up the person you want to present to the world. You line up all your armor and you put it on, one by one. Hoping that nothing will stop you in your quest for perfection. This armor protects you from the outside world and keeps you safe from every sort of harm.  For a moment you believe that’s real. That everything you put forth to the world is exactly who you’ve always been and everything you hide, no one will ever see. You lie to everyone. Even the people who think they know you best, don’t know you at all. That has always been my problem. It was easy to pretend to be someone else then the person I really am.

We have this sick perception of what we believe to be perfect. What we believe to be beautiful. You become succumb to the notion that this is how everything is suppose to be. You spend every last dime, sacrifice so much of who you are to be exactly how everyone else wants you to be. The countless hours I spent in front of the mirror and never truly being satisfied with who I saw. You make a caricature of yourself and for years you play this part of someone you were never familiar with to begin with. The thicker your armor becomes the more or less you start disappearing inside. The make up, the clothes, the amount of money you spend to be someone completely different from the person you grew up with. Sometimes it takes a lifetime to realize the monster you have become. Other times you just come to terms with this is who you will be for the rest of your life. We forget that we were all once loved and had a thirst and hunger for life. New beginnings and clean slates were how we came to this world. Now we’re just a sad representation of a bad Xerox copy of everyone else.

The years pass and you find yourself hurting. The dents start showing in your armor. The more you think you’re fooling everyone, in reality you’re only fooling yourself. The countless times you believe its what you wanted was really what everyone else wanted. You become a punching bag to the worst people, your own worst enemy for rolling with the punches. The quest for perfection stopped being a quest and more of a nightmare of survival. The cutting, the bleeding, the starvation, the nights you tell yourself this is what they wanted and all you want is an out. The countless times you covered yourself up to hide how you felt inside. You realize how much you wanted a life of your own instead of the sad existence that you have before you. You can’t give up. You can’t fail. Instead you do what you do best, you hide how you feel. You fall, you get up and then you start all over again.

Piece by piece, you take away the armor. Cut out the toxic people that made you miserable. Cut out the people that hurt you to believe that their perception of beauty was who you needed to be. You slowly start appreciating the good in impurities instead of finding perfection in everything. You grow up wanting more than just what everyone else wants. Little by little the armor comes off. You live. Your scars heal, your body changes and eventually it’s not a fight with yourself for happiness. You surround yourself with good people and in turn find the good in everybody again. The fears you once held eventually fade with time but only after you let go of the dark to make way for the light. It’s not easy. Its not something that changes you over night. Some nights are unbearable and some days its just a fight to feel okay.
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It’s not easy. You don’t just wake up and want to change. It takes a lifetime of dealing with bullshit people and their equally bullshit standards. In the end you just realize that it’s up to you to find your own happiness. Change the course of your life into something that will in turn make you who you truly want to be. Your past can’t hurt you, your past doesn’t define you. Your past is there to show you how you survived, and all you’ve accomplished. In the end that’s all that matters in life.

You are amazing.

You are beautiful.

One day, you’ll actually believe that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Diary of a Mad Single Woman.

Status: Single.
Current mood: Happy

People have a funny way of believing that Single = Lonely. That your life in solitude is because of the person you are and the choices you make in life. I hate to be the bearer of bad news but single doesn’t always mean lonely, just like being in a relationship doesn’t always guarantee happiness. Some of us just chose to be single. As hard as that is to grasp being single is often a choice that we make for ourselves. Not because there is anything wrong with us, because there isn’t. Sometimes we want more to life than just settling down and being everyone else.

I know, SHOCKER.

While I can’t speak for the whole single community, I can speak for myself. I choose to be single. I choose to be single not because of my emotional problems, not because I haven’t found the right person, but because I genuinely want to be single.

There I said it.

I want to be single.

Maybe I am a little selfish in my logic and I know that people go on to lead amazing lives in the family aspect. I’m just not ready to jump forward and make that big commitment. I know it may seem weird to my family and friends, but sometimes the things you want are bigger than what everyone expects you to do. By no means am I afraid of commitment. Just my commitments may not be the same standards as everyone else’s. There is so much that this world has to offer that I haven’t even made a dent in. I never want to get to a point in my life where I wished I had done things different. Where I wished I would have traveled more, wished I would have been to different places and wished I would have had more experiences. Life is too short to settle for what everyone else expects me to do. So instead I am just going to exactly want I want to do.

In the past 14 years since I have graduated high school, I have been fortunate enough to set out and do everything I loved. I have traveled the country following my favorite bands, seen a variety of different cities, failed, fell, then got back up again. Sure I may have spent more money then I should have. I may not have money to show for all the times I spent doing everything I loved, but that’s what life is about. Life is about making a big mess of things, growing up and trying again. At the end of the day looking back and smiling because you did all those great amazing things.

I know you can have your adventures with a significant other by your side. You can grow and figure things out along the way with someone that shares the same sentiments you do. I get that. Everyone is different with their dreams and if you find the person that shares the same dreams you have, that’s an amazing feeling. I just never saw my life in that light. I’ve spent so much of my life helping people clean up their mistakes that I never had time to clean my own life. I have lived in the shadows of everyone else that it was time to focus on the one important person in my life.

Myself.

I want to see the world. I want to see how people in different countries live and communicate. I want to pay off my debts and not give the burden of my debts to anyone other than myself. I want to be financially stable and still be able to enjoy my life. I want to own my own home and decorate it in the way I see pleasing. I want to be able to look at myself and say I put myself back together before anyone else had a chance too. I want to see the lights of Paris, the streets of Cuba, the culture of Argentina, all before changing diapers and having to ask for permission from someone other than myself. I want to be my own boss before anyone has a chance to tell me differently. I want to struggle, bleed, claw, and cry for my dreams and when everything comes together appreciate that everything was worth it. I want to live in a big city and get completely lost in it.  I want to fall back in love with food and not feel the guilty regret of my past. More importantly I want to do things for myself without having to ask for help. Make my own mistakes, fall down, and then get back up again. Enjoy the modern wonders of life and still appreciating its deep cultured background. All of these things are everything I could only ask of myself and never ask of anyone else. My dreams, my hopes, and my desires that I could only want to come true.

Life has a funny way of changing you into someone else. With each life experience a part of you grows and changes to the person you’re suppose to be. That’s the kind of life I want to lead for the moment. You can keep your OKCupid, Tinder, speed dating. You can keep all comments about my life to yourself because at the end of the day I live with the choices I make. When I am willing and ready to make the jump from single to relationship, it will be on my terms. Until then I will continue coming and going as I damn well please.

Honestly.

My life is dope and  I do dope shit.

*CLICK*

 

 

 

 

 

Let’s take this back to the start.

We all have to crawl before we can walk again.

I get it.

Most people consider relapsing failing. I just consider it a tiny little hiccup in the recovery. The recovery is just as hard as the rehab. Its putting ourselves in real life situations and seeing how well we transition in public. I will admit it’s hard. When everyone else is going a mile a minute, you’re trying desperately to catch up.

This is my white flag.

I surrender. Surrender to the past, the present and even the future. Surrender in knowing that while my past does not define me, it doesn’t help with trying to understand my present.

I have to admit failure in my actions to come to terms with my reactions. As much as I can say I am okay, I don’t necessarily feel okay. I have a hard time understanding that my present is no longer associated with my past. Things that have haunted my dreams can not shake my reality. There are times we are tested in our present that make us believe the past is coming back to haunt us. It’s not. It’s just showing us how far we have come from the people we used to be. Yet no matter how many times we tell ourselves that, we react differently.

I have such an anxiety for the present that it makes me think of the past. That at any given moment everything will change and all that I have worked for will disappear. Instead of being strong, I find myself going back to my old ways. To curb the hunger of anxiety I eat, to calm the shakes of my paranoia I spend. Just something to take the edge off and help me calm down my fears. Its only when I’m a few pounds heavier and my bank account is drained that I realize I have failed. I have failed my present with the problems of my past. Its no ones fault. As much as I want to blame outside forces, I can’t. I just have a problem with overcoming my obstacles because I’m so used to failure.

Why is it so easy to invest our time in failing?

Why are we so forgiving to failing and so fearful of succeeding?

Failing is whats excepted. Failing is what comes naturally. Now its just the expectation that happens. You put so much energy for things to go bad, you surprise yourself when it runs smoothly. It’s being unhappy, going back to old habits and trying to make sense of it all. You can’t help but sabotage your new journeys with the problems of your past. You think that just giving in a little isn’t going to matter in the long run. Then you wake up and are left with the regret. You tell yourself you couldn’t help yourself. when in reality you knew better. You always know better. You know fully well what’s going on but still you expect it. You wait for it. This negative being of failure that follows you around like a black fucking cloud.

I am sick of it.

Done.

You can’t expect a change when you do everything in your power to keep it from happening. You can only blame yourself for your own unhappiness. Again you start over and just like before go with the hopefulness that everything will be better. Tomorrow is just another day to change it all around. Failure is not a word in your vocabulary when you’re starting over. It’s just the fire that ignites the will to keep going when you’ve lost it all.

One more step.

Back to the start. Rewind. Eventually everything in it’s right place.

 

 

 

City of Angels.

I’ve never been good with letting go.

The whole nostalgia of the past to let go in the present. Things weren’t always so bad and miserable. Sometimes they were pretty great. Dreams fade and you’re left with the dust of a harsh reality. Maybe I just like to make believe that everything was once perfect. Just go back to the 4 year old that put her hands in Marilyn Monroe’s handprints, dreaming that one day that would be her reality. The flashing lights never stop shining brightly when you’re a dreamer. The people of your past change and you become a different person when you’re older. Some how in your memories everyone remains the same. Just freeze framed into people that held the same dreams you did at one point. Every day was one big new beginning and every experience was a life changing event.

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L.A. had always been a huge impact of my life. It was where my Dad came to call his adolescence home. Where no matter how crazy the drive was, it was always bigger, brighter, shinier than any city I had ever been to growing up. After a while the trips became less frequent and yet I still loved it. I yearned for a city, I knew nothing about and dreamed every day to return to it. I found myself telling everyone that “one day, I am going to move there and everything will happen for me”. That’s the thing with dreams, we dream so vividly we forget to gasp for air. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, I just knew I had to be somewhere that things happened. Where people from all walks of life migrated for just one tiny beckon of hope of a new beginning. Maybe that’s what I had always wanted. A new beginning. Anything better than the 4 years of being someone I didn’t like or the 5 years after processing a lifetime of heartbreak. Somewhere inside you knew that there was a place where you can start over and everything would be okay.

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The countless times I fled to LA were always magical. Whether waiting countless hours in front a venue to see a band or sitting directly in front of the latest crush of the moment, I knew things were happening. The countless nights I toasted to dreams with my friends or the days I dreamed knowing that every moment this was my best choice. Every time I made a mistake, it didn’t matter because tomorrow was just another day to turn it all around. I loved it. I loved being surrounded by dreamers that all wanted the same dreams I did. They wanted to be better and brighter than their past, no matter how much they struggled they knew one day it would all be different. You continued dreaming and continued to have hope for a better beginning. It was just the magically mysticism of  a city that made you believe that everything was possible. That everything you dreamed of will one day come true and everything else that happened in the past was just one sick twisted memory.

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The reality of dreams is that one day reality comes crashing down. One day the dreams you held so closely eventually disappear when you wake up. Maybe LA will always be my Neverland, where I will forever be stuck in the mistakes of my youth. We were all just lost boys and girls looking for a way to keep the dreams of our youth alive. While I have seen my life change drastically through the years, its always that memory of being in love with a city so magical that I’ve never forgotten. The only city that I’ve ever wanted to run away to, that helped me grow up in ways I never understood at the time.

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Its wrong to say I don’t miss it. Every night I catch myself missing it more than usual. I know in my heart that reality makes for a challenging adulthood and eventually our childish ways have to grow up. Just sometimes I can’t help but dream about the streets, the lights, and the sounds. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I still believe I’m back there. Back in my youth where everything was possible. Where dreams would one day become reality and every struggle was worth it.

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Now that I’m older my dreams have changed. Yet I find myself saying sorry that I let you down LA but sometimes we have to break before we can become whole again. I had to leave you to realize that I could love myself before I could love you again. You were the city that was there for me when I needed you most and sometimes I forget that. I will forever be grateful to you. Grateful to the city of dreamers who all wanted exactly what I once did. Your beauty, your history, and the light of hope that never once let me down.

I love you, LA. Always have, always will. <3