it's so funny how life changes
and how things work out in a single moment
and it's funny how so many things do not matter
and i question: will they ever?
life is full of trivial words, people, and such
most of it will vanish and not mean very much
and the situations that we are meant to hold close and near
we let go without dropping a tear
fear
embraces us, making us follow through
with actions that we shouldn't have to do
and yet we live our life, thinking it's being lived right
following our perfect plan all day and night
but we do not question what we have inside
that thing that keeps us breathing in time with the tide
and we do not seem to dare to dream
to imagine more possibilities than what there seems
no we must be, you and i, bound in this little box called "life"
and the stuff outside of this world? oh, that, well never mind
for it is of insignificance
money, power, lust and pain that is of importance
but what about me? my life, my choice to choose
how can i survive when i always lose?
i do not want to exist in a world that doesn't care for my existence
and i do not want to be scorned for my driving persistence
to find answers to the questions that i ask
the questions that tend to make people mad
because i refuse to live a simple and shallow life
but a life with meaning and dreams and hope...
one i chose over the "real" world a long time ago
i do not want to follow these rules
where i say "i don't know, society tell me what i should do"
because in this life, things will change
and it's funny how it happens in a single moment
and it's funny how so many things do not mtter
the people who've hurt me, old friends and lovers
and i question: will they ever?
life is full of trivial words, people, and such
most of it will vanish and not mean very much
and the weight will fade and the scars will heal
then we can face the day and see what is real
because besides this face, this skin, these lips and eyes
my body and the well-rounded thighs
there is more to this being
and there is more to being
but how can we know when are souls are bleeding?
how can we see when we are frightened
by the choice to choose
and we give up what we want and soon after lose
how can we breathe
when the world is stifling?
how can we be
when we aren't existing?
okay, real job, grand house, nice car, and bills
but there's a space in my soul that yearns to be filled
there's a hole in my soul that needs to be filled
there's a space in my heart that has to be...
that needs to be...filled
because
it's so funny how life changes
and how things work out in a single moment
and it's funny how so many things do not matter
and i question: will they ever?
life is full of trivial words, people, and such
most of it will vanish and not mean very much
some days will hurt and some scars are deep
but it's nothing to keep us off our feet
so when the money is gone, the pain, the power
what will be left? a withering flower?
or will there be, in the sunshine so sweet
a perfect rainbow waiting for me?
in this life things will change
in this life
things work out in a single moment
in this life
so many things do not matter
and i question: will they ever?
this life
is full of trivial words, people, and such
in this life
most of it will vanish and not mean very much
except of course
what you did in this life when coming to shore.
11-24-2008
*I wrote this poem off the top of my head honestly, I really cannot explain the thought process behind it because the inspiration came to me instantly. Basically, it is my thoughts on my life and how I see the world. Lately I have been feeling as though I have let things almost control me, my thoughts and moods---whether it is people, circumstances, etc. And, it hit me a couple of days ago how funny it all is because eventually the drama and things that seem to matter, don't.
It's still a little funny to me, I guess because once we die...none of "this" will really make a difference, except how we lived. So, once I came to that conclusion I continued my lifelong search so far in trying to figure out what is the best way for me to live my life and what my purpose is. I have found that the best way is to just be myself and never apologize for it, and slowly I know I will come to terms on how to make a difference and learn what my role in this world is to be.
Hope whoever reads likes the poem. Comments are always welcome.*
With you a kiss is not just a kiss
It is a moment several lover's miss
With you a gaze is not just a gaze
But a secret message being sent my way
With you a touch is not only a touch
But a caress from your soul saying how you love me so much
With you words are not words
Most go unspoken, but so loudly they are heard
With you a smile is not an expression
It is a surrender, a tender and sweet confession
With you a tear is not a cry
It is a testimony escaping your eye
With you love is not love
It is only a step closer to the heavens above
With you a promise is not just a promise
It is an everlasting seal that bonds us for
Ever
And ever more
But with you, that is all I can ask for
All that I can dream
And all that I can have
I stand with you and never look back
Or towards the future, or what lies in between
With you, all is like a dream
More beautiful and enchanting than what life may seem
But it is only because I share it, my life, with you
And I do not want to be anywhere else than where i am now
Standing proud
Standing here
Right here
With you.
1-10-2009
*If it is not already painfully obvious, I wrote this poem for the man that is now in my life. I debated for a while whether I should post this poem for anyone else to see, but after asking for my boyfriend's consent I did not feel so weird about it. I suppose in a way I am proud of the poem, because I am proud of him (and proud to be with him). I have never met one person who can possess so many beautiful qualities that are strong and genuine in one soul. It is an honor to be with him and an even greater pleasure to love him.
I wrote this poem a few days ago, but since I cannot remember the exact date, I wrote down what was almost accurate. I am not looking for critiques, because honestly with this poem they do not matter to me. I guess I wanted to share how I feel about someone through my writing for once when I hardly ever do so. Needless to say, my boyfriend loved the poem and his reaction really is all that mattered to me. I'm glad he didn't mind if I share this with others. So I hope whoever reads this enjoys it and can relate...or find that it gives them something to look forward to in their relationships.*
It amazes me that just last year I was heartbroken, miserable, and in search of that light that had made my life so much brighter, so much more glorious---until it left, went out. Once it was gone, in my pain, in my weakness, I did not realize just how much I admired it...depended on it even. The glow I had grown to love and accept as a part of my life was gone and I was alone.
I was in love once...even as I write these words I ask myself if I truly was in love. What does it truly mean to be "in love"? If I had been in love, wouldn't that mean the feeling was mutual and he would have felt the same way I did? Is it possible to be "in love" when only one person out of two, only a counterpart feels that way and the other does not? For in my case, I loved him. I loved him without hesitation, question, or concern of consequences. I would have given the world to him, waited a lifetime to be in his arms. When I was with him nothing mattered---his feelings and emotions came first and oh how so easy it was to fall for him...how impossible it was not to. I loved him, and yet he did not love me, for he easily let me go and let materialistic aspects of life take my place. I loved him, but I have not been loved---and that makes all of the difference.
So, no I have not been in love, but I have loved.
I have loved with my soul, with my being, with the best of me. Just the same, I have loved poorly, selfishly, and with the worst of my nature. I have come to realize that love, just like everything else in life requires practice, and patience. The first romance is always the sweetest, and the hardest, even at times the most painful...but never the last. Since I have started dating---holding and losing relationships---I realize that in love all things have a purpose, all people play a role. During my heart break it was difficult to see that, my pain and confusion blinding me, clouding my vision---though deep down I knew that everything would be okay and I would pull through this. It was not knowing the "when" I would pull through that made things hard. Even still, I did. It took 7 months, but I came out alive.
And that is the crazy part about being heartbroken: it doesn't kill you even when it feels like it can, or that it should. It doesn't kill you, but instead opens your eyes and lets you grow. It helps you understand that when relationships die, there is always better out there, or worse---and you will come across both.
In the end it was not meant to be. We weren't meant to be.
I even dare to say that it was for the best. For, why would any sensible, mature, and intelligent person want to deal with a liar and a person who does not know what they want---but they know this much: they don't want you or love, but lust and a brief affair. If it is not love, then what do you want? If it is not meaningful, what else matters? I have grown and have come to accept the fact that I am not looking for, nor do I need, an immature man as my partner...or a confused man at that. Each time I have encountered such a type of man, my emotions were overlooked, my feelings and trust abused, and the ship of my heart sank to the ocean floor in flames. And still, I love men and respect men---but only the good ones. Besides, how can I or any other woman hate "all" men when we haven't met all men? I remain optimistic and refuse to become any other way.
The whole reason I am writing this is because last night I came across a reminder of the man who broke my heart, a powerful and literal reminder that I could not ignore for I had written it myself. Before me was an entry on my thoughts, my feelings...all created by him and made for him. The entry was one I had honestly forgotten about, yet the memories that the entry entailed were still locked in my mind. I read it and as I read, I realized that some things I had forgotten---I had captured each moment and emotion of myself a year ago perfectly into what is now a verbal photograph. Each word I read brought back the images of the memories in my my mind...I had been happy once, passionate and carefree, I had loved once.
I had also been so adorably stupid.
It is funny to me now, looking back, reading about my past and how I gave my heart to someone who never wanted it from the start. Of course, had I known who he was, I wouldn't have---but the thing is that I didn't know...and so as I read a chapter of my past, I could only shake my head and tell myself that with time I can only become more wiser, and hopefully the men will too. It is clear to me that I did love him, for him and not for superficial reasons that other girls, who were immature, could think of---one in which he dated once we broke up. But maybe, just maybe I should have known better, somehow, and save myself the hell of a 7-month heartache.
But what good would that have done?
What would I have learned if my love life, or my life in general, had been made easy? If there wasn't any hurt or pain, dirt thrown in my eyes, how would I grow? I have to give it to him, to the man that broke my heart a year ago, for he taught me things. He taught me what to look for next time around, and what not to waste my time on. He taught me what not to do to my partners and gave me a clearer image on what love truly is and how valuable honesty, consideration, and communication are. He gave me my first up-close-and personal lesson on what it means to be heartbroken, how it feels. It is hard to explain a broken heart...a heavy weight in your chest...a feeling that seems to grip and clutch at your throat so that it is hard to breathe...you don't feel like yourself, but rather like a shell, an empty vessel...for a brief moment you feel dead, and slowly life finds it way back to you and you are steady once again.
From my own heartbreak, I taught myself that love is not a game and people's emotions are more fragile and delicate than people allow themselves to think and consider. By being so carelessly and badly hurt, I taught myself to be more gentle with people, to tread carefully through flowing emotions...and it does matter the circumstance, I will not abuse a man's emotions. I do not play games and I don't have time for those who do.
I am not expecting my revelation to make life easier for me, or to keep me from crossing paths with those less serious than I, but I do know that it will help me react better in those situations and I will know what to with myself, and when to let go.
Well, here it is. This is my first post of my blog. I am not exactly sure what to say...it is almost 2 AM and I am still awake. I want to draw, but I'm not sure what...I want to start writing a new story, but I am not sure where to begin. I guess this is the hour where things are not as crystal clear as they should be.
At any rate, I hope that with my blog I will be able to display my art work, as well I was my writing...and have a place to come to so that I can think and write, and eventually share with others.
I apologize for this post being so short, but it is late and I need rest. I will return, at any point if you would like to get to know me more, feel free.
But please...do not call me "hot", "sexy", "baby", "mami", "shorty", or your "nigger". Those are all turn offs for me...so if you want to talk, be mature...and professional. I don't mean to offend, but it is just how I am and it's how I prefer people to approach me.
Take care.
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