2.39. The Dying Writer

To say I have writers block is an understatement. Considering participating in JunoWriMo and Camp NaNoWriMo and my brain is mush. STUCK on the piece I finished for last years session…should I rewrite it? Should I start something new? Should I work on the one I didn’t complete? Are any of them good ideas? Why do they all somehow find the same lingering piece…too many branches off of one seed. Questioning if there is a point. If I will ever write something worth…something. Playing music, reading, sitting in silence…hoping for a muse. And finding nothing. No inspiration. Nothing that sparks a fire in my fingers to get out…anything.

This paragraph was a damn struggle.

2.26. Damn You, John Hughes

In light of my current read, Damned by Chuck Palahniuk, and the continuous reference to the John Hughes film, The Breakfast Club, I’ve decided to answer the detention assigned question in 1000 words. Here goes.

Who Do You Think You Are?

I ask myself this question time and again and the answers are numerous and yet nothing substantial for personal growth. It is always a reflection of where I came from, experiences that have influenced my life. So, I’ve come to believe I am my history. To answer in this way is to imply that I am what I was and therefore have no idea how to unearth the me I was supposed to be despite circumstance. But I suppose everyone needs a place to start and my history is all I know. So, maybe, in recollections, I will find the answer of who I am in the ashes of who I’ve been. 

I am the daughter of a con artist and a retired police officer. I am the step-child of a deceased Jewban who could probably answer this question for me better than I can. I am an incest and rape survivor. I am a diagnosed Bi-Polar/PTSD patient. I am an aspiring writer and an avid reader. I am a Puerto Rican female who does not feel connected to anything culturally, socially, mentally, spiritually, or physically. 

I am a divorcee. I am a problematic human being who delves into the deepest trenches of pessimism because optimism means I have hope and hope scares the crap out of me. I am a college drop out. I am a closet romantic. I am a scared little girl. 

I am a mother. I am a soldier for my son and his number one cheerleader. I am an example of all the things he should probably not want in a companion. 

Yo, this shit is depressing.

I am all of the labels I have ever been given over the years. And I am a trapped entity; unable to escape the baggage and drowning under the weight. 

I am a spirit lost in what I wanted and what is. 

I am a bitch when I think I have to be, which seems to be a lot. I am a woman willing to forgive but searching for my own forgiveness. Yearning to be cleaned of my sins that leave me in the spiral of hopelessness I continuously fall into. 

I am far more vulnerable than I am comfortable with admitting. I am weaker than I want to say. I am struggling to know why I am here. 

Perhaps I am still damaged from the ongoings of recent years. I am still buried under the pain of loss, death, failure. Perhaps I cannot answer who I think I am because I’m not ready. Because I’m scared to leave a page blank and admit that I think that’s all I am. A blank page. A nothing. A mistake. 

Nowhere near 1000 words and still no answer. But an honest, horribly honest start. Something to revisit. Something I will attempt again at a later date.

2.12. Tis The Season…To Be Enlightened

Most people consider this time of year to be a religious time. I’m not one of those people. No disrespect or disregard to anyone for their particular beliefs. As the mother of a young child, I view this time of year as a cultural celebration. My son may have a best friend who celebrates something different than him. He may love someone who doesn’t celebrate at all. Either way, he will be enlightened to show respect above all else.

Whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Three Kings Day, or some other unknown cultural celebration – this is your time to do so with pride and joy in your heart.

Christmas December 25

Hanukkah December 8-16

Kwanzaa December 26-January1

Three Kings Day January 6

I look forward to enlightening my son about the different meanings and celebrations surrounding this time of year. To have him be enlightened, respectful of others beliefs, and appreciative of what may matter to others. This season is not about materialistic possessions, money, or self-righteousness. This time is about the love of family, the desire to bring a smile to others faces, the sharing of stories, of food, of life, of laughter, of love.

If you say Merry Christmas to me, I will repeat the same. If you say Happy Kwanzaa, I’ll chime right on in. If you say Feliz Navidad, I want a hippopotamus for Christmas or hey F your face – you’ll get it back just the same. I’ll give you the same respect you give me…or disrespect if that’s how you want to roll this holiday. I’ll not say that one celebration is right or more relevant than another. Culture, not religion, is what allows our differences to shine. Allows us to meld and merge, co-exist and flourish as a unified display of individuality.

So enjoy the season for what it is…to you. But be mindful, the house next door might be celebrating something a little bit different. And that’s just beautiful.

 

1.149 – Erotica and The AHA Moment

So, technically, I should be packing…seeing as I’m supposed to be moved into my new apartment in like…two days. But I’m not packing. Not because I don’t want to.  I really don’t want to BUT this particular moment of packing procrastination has been brought on by an Oprah “AHA” moment. (Did she patent that, because if she did…yeah, she can’t take much from someone who doesn’t have squat, right? Here’s hoping.)

Anyways, my “AHA” moment happened while I was putting books away in my new place. I used to be a hoarder of books. Seriously, in the past 4 years, I have visited the library at least 4 times and donated at least 70 books per visit. Needless to say, my current library is slim pickings and yet…I feel like I should be getting rid of more things instead of just transferring all of my garbage from a two bedroom box to a one bedroom box. But moving right along…

The “AHA” moment happened when I held a book called Smut. It speaks true to its title but I only know that from reading a synopsis of the book. I’ve never actually read it. I bought it a few years back during my erotic reading phase. (Aqua Erotica, Master/Slave, Different Loving…all good titles…I’ve actually read these…and FYI to all you bandwagon Fifty Shades of Grey readers – feel free to read Different Loving to understand that Dom/Sub relationships don’t have to be all about hard, rough sex. It doesn’t have to be about sex at all. This stupid craze with this book is going to push some desperate lonely housewives to go out searching for the type of relationship they touch themselves to from that book when in all actuality, it’s not that simple. Period. And now I’m done with that little side rant).

I realize that I haven’t read this book and yet, I don’t want to toss it. And I ask myself why. I’m not reading it. I have no desire to. The price I paid wasn’t a doozy so I’m at no real loss. So what am I holding on to?

I’m holding on to the thought that if I toss it…I will suddenly need it when its gone.

Yep, that was the moment. I just related a smut book to relationships. Ain’t it funny how we hold onto things that aren’t good for us, people who remain toxic to us and our growth because we are so scared that once we dispose of them…we will have nothing? We keep bad friends, relationships that aren’t fulfilling, we stay in marriages that died so long ago we can’t even recall when we liked that person, we master the art of bullshitting ourselves into believing that we need something we really don’t. Instead of having a bookshelf free of useless nonsense that is no longer applicable to the person I am today, I’d rather have a full shelf of things I will never touch. Meaningless, insignificant but full.

Sounds like the story of my life. I’m going to admit that I put the stupid book on the bookshelf. I’m not friggen superman here, people! I had an “AHA” moment, not a friggen personality makeover. But I think it’s still a start.

The first part of letting go is realizing you don’t need to be so scared of having nothing that you’ll hold on to anything. Apply this to your life, relationship, career as needed. I know I am.

1.144 – Heavenly Earth

Sitting on my lunch break, I read an article by Jon Meacham entitled Heaven Can’t Wait – Why rethinking the hereafter could make the world a better place and it got me thinking. So much so that I had to reread it. And then I had to read it again, only this time, with a highlighter in hand. And then I had to give a copy of it to someone I know…because I had to share this…whatever this was.

Meacham starts his article with a synopsis of Heaven Is For Real by Lynn Vincent…a book I’ve never read. He quotes John Blanchard, founder of Planet Rock Youth Ministries…a ministry I know nothing about. He talks about N.T. Wright,  Billy Graham, and Stephen Hawking…people I know nothing about. Realistically, this article…in a magazine I’ve never read…should be of no significance or interest to my silly little mind. However, this article…in a magazine that I’ve never read yells at me. Forces me to think.

“Heaven isn’t just a place you go-heaven is how you live your life.”

“…people who are motivated by heaven are also people motivated to make a positive difference in the world.”

“”Seeing heaven as the world beyond this one can offer powerful comfort, particularly in life’s most dire circumstances.”

“Gods love…should inspire the religious to open their arms more often than they point fingers. Heaven thus becomes, for now, the reality one creates in the service of the poor, the sick, the enslaved, the oppressed.”

“Our entrance into heaven has nothing to do with how good we are; what matters is how good Jesus is, and what He did for us.”

I’m just a girl. A girl from the Bronx. A girl who’s gone through her struggles and in turn…sits in front of this keyboard with one million questions and zero answers. I’m just a girl who hopes to be better and doesn’t know how. I’m just a lost soul dreaming of something beautiful…hoping it’s attainable for someone like me.

After reading this article, I asked myself…what is heaven? Where is heaven? I will not consider what the world tells me. I will not consider the images painted upon walls and on the pages of old books. What is heaven? Where is heaven?

Heaven is seeing that glimmer in my sons eyes. Heaven is laughter. Heaven is a warm hug. Heaven is feeling loved. Heaven is feeling understood. Heaven is music, art, spoken word. Heaven is understanding. Heaven is giving. Heaven is the unconditional. It is what we search for every single day…in everything that we do…in every encounter we have.

I want heaven. For myself. For my son. For my best friend. For my father. I want heaven for people I don’t even know. But how do you reach something that defies all sense of logic? Religion makes no sense to me. There was a phone call between God and I at some point in my life but the call got disconnected.

He may…in some way…be trying to call me back. But I don’t know if I’m willing to answer that call.

I don’t know if God exists. Without a shadow of a doubt…no, I can’t say that I know. But do I know heaven exists? Yes, I do. It’s not a crown of jewels and a palace made of gold. It’s in our works. How we nurture our fellow man. How we inspire our kin. This is heaven. This is where I want to be.

1.101 – You Never Saw This Coming

Facebook Status of The Day:

Eetsa gonna be manicotti night! Also… Eetsa me! Mario!

Now that we’ve covered that…this post is going to change direction. I’m working through some emotions and so Im turning to my forum to do so. So bear with me for a moment.

I literally just opened a book, recommended to me by a friend, a few minutes ago. I have only gotten six pages in and I feel extremely uncomfortable. I have a million questions running through my head and even more reasons why I want to close this book. Im listing all of the reasons I don’t feel like reading this book. And yet, I know I have to keep going.

I’m trying to be open-minded. To steer clear of the presumption that I know better. In my search for personal growth and a non-judgmental perspective, I have agreed to read The Case For Christ by Lee Strobel.

My mind is racing and I feel really uncomfortable. I keep asking myself why and I keep running in circles. Is this book going to make me see something I didn’t see before? I don’t know. But what if it does. I’m just going to pretend for a minute…that by the end of this…I feel enlightened.

What changes? I dont respect organized religion. I don’t respect the man-made use of religion to spread bigotry, hate and oppression. I could believe in a god…I guess. The hypocrisy, the evil laced in a pretty package, the inconsistencies…I just cant.

If that is the case, why the heck am I reading this book? Do I subconsciously want to believe in something much greater than what I know? Do I want there to be a reason…for everything? Am I already a mindless sheep, willing to believe in anything that will make me feel warm and fuzzy as I sit close to my rock bottom? (Not every person of faith is sheep – so if you’re an existential thinker, don’t take offense to it).

Part of me wants to throw this book aside and move right along. Am I scared to see something new and have new hope? Or am I scared that at the end of this…I will feel no differently. Proof that there really is nothing greater. Am I already setting myself up because I want hope?

And this whole thing is pissing me off. But the only way to truly say “I don’t believe” is to identify what I actually do believe. And the only way to do that is to face every option with an open mind…to let it run through me and to…do something I have yet to figure out.

This post made absolutely no sense. But neither does this blog. Let’s be honest. I rant about shit on here. Shit, shit and more shit. But I guess this random shit is my life. And my life is my art. And my art is what I want to share. Hence…i share shit. Aren’t you glad?

I’m sure Ill post again about this book…we’ll see.