The Perks of Being a Cuban.

As we grow, we lose that innocence. Our intuition fails us and we make mistakes. WE make choices every day that shape who we are and will be. As we grow we lose sight of what we were, and the people that were once there. We push those people aside, they simply do not fit in with our new image. They represent the past, the innocence I guess. We are adults now, or we believe we are. Invincible. Infallible. Terribly flawed in denial. We exaggerate, we over react, we under react. We ignore consequence or thought process. Until hopefully it all clicks.
The people who were there for you may still be there, waiting. They may not be. We don't know, we pretend not to care. Adult's wouldn't care, we lie to ourselves. For what? For maturity. For acceptance. For independence. From what the past represents. We repress our pasts, so as to not regress, and loss all the hardheadedness and hardheartedness we have managed to gain on our search for adulthood. We're grown ups... We swear.
It's all very stupid. I've seen it too often. I've lost many whom I've cared for. Many who once cared for me. I've lost them to the idea of adulthood, to the word, to the feeling. They lose sight of who they are and try to do some growing. Why is it that as I grow, I keep looking back while also looking forward. Childhood and adolescence are so ephemeral and fugitive, I feel it's essential to hold onto those who've made these journeys with you. Rather than letting them go and make the journey with new less recognizable people. That journey becomes lonely and empty. Fill that journey towards knowledge and adulthood with your past and your present, the future will transition itself easier that way. That's just how I feel.

I believe that I may be at fault
I believe that I’m the one to blame
Putting myself down at times
At fault for all your pain
I can’t just let it go

I believe that I’m too hard on myself
Beating myself up for what you’ve lost
Looking inside of myself
To see it all go wrong

It’s easier to blame me
And to hate myself at times
It’s easier to be guilty
And that way I won’t hate who you’ve become

I’m to blame, can’t you see
It’s easy do you see
To blame me, and save you
Mistakes are in the past
Long forgotten…

I believed that I could save the world
I believed I was a helpful ear
Gave myself too much credit
Can’t even save myself
My intuition fails me
I can’t save you from yourself
I can’t imagine how you’re doing
And you’re too far gone to be found

And
I’m to blame, can’t you see
It’s better this way
To blame me, and find you
It will never be the same
Long forgotten…

Automatically
I just think of you
Since the day you left
That’s all I can do

Waiting without knowing kills me, I hope you realize
And impatiently I wait to look at your eyes
And every single day I cry deep inside of me
There’s no way to live without you here with me

Though I seem invincible
It’s fatal and essential
That you return
Return to me
Return, Oh
This pain is suffocating
Now I sit here still expecting
For you to you return
You to return
Return
Why do you torture me so?

Inevitably
I am without peace
What’s become of me
Since our final kiss

You say I have no reason to react this way
That you’ve made your choice
And to be out of your way
But I’m not ready to break the ties that bind you to me
Be considerate; I’m suffering can’t you see

Though I seem invincible
It’s fatal and essential
That you return
Return to me
Return, Oh
This pain is suffocating
Now I sit here still expecting
For you to you return
You to return
Return
Why do you torture me so?

Translated from Bebe's "Tu Silencio"

Like jumping off a cliff without a rope
You fall you fall you fall, you fall
Like accidentally getting too close
You shut your eyes to avoid

That the air’s like glass
Ready to crack
And though it’s strange I want you to be mine
That the air’s like glass
Ready to crack
And though it’s strange I want you to be mine

Like a wave that surrenders to a rock
You are crushed and silenced by your words and thoughts

And now I’m not here
And now you’re not here
Our silence is the most eloquent lie.
And now I’m not here
And now you’re not here
Our silence is the most eloquent lie.

My silence lives within yours
And within me lives
A distant piece of you
My silence lives within yours
And within my eyes lives
A fading piece of you
And now that you’re here
And now that I’m here
Hold me so that I may think of you again
And now that you’re here
And now that I’m here
Hold me so that I may think of you again

The air’s like glass
Ready to crack
Though my lips don’t speak
I want you back

Why do I try so hard. I mess up so hard and can't pick up the pieces. it's so frustrating. and i end up losing.


Why try
To be heard
Whisper softly
Go unheard
And try again and again
Endlessly

Keep on
Going unheard
Whisper softly
Apologizing
Trying harder
Uselessly

So I whisper and I scream
Going crazy and it seems
That I am wasting my breath
Tearing at the seams
From a whisper to a scream

Waiting
To be heard
Screaming loudly
Impatiently
Wasting time after time
Till the end

So I whisper and I scream
Going crazy and it seems
That I am wasting my breath
Tearing at the seams
From a whisper to a scream

In this time of reflection on the past year, my family always forces us to say aloud what we're thankful for. It's always the same every year, a family, friends, bonds, togetherness. But we never really think about that until we hold hands in a circle. All throughout the year we are burdened by bills and dates and deadlines and dilemmas. We are under pressure, so much that we refuse to stop and give thanks for what we cannot control. So are we ever truly thankful aside from this one day every year? I think so. The thanks is implied in the kind words we do have time to share. I'm thankful for the bonds I've managed to keep in tact with friends, though far away. Though we have so much going on in our lives , so many changes, so may memories still unknown, we mange to keep in touch. I hope to never wonder how a best friend may be doing. I always want to know how they are. I'm thankful for awareness. Every night I pray to be kept aware that I am blessed despite things that may cause me to feel otherwise. I'm thankful that I have such a strong support system, parents, siblings, cousins, old teachers, friends. People who believe I can do anything when I am in complete doubt of myself and my worth. I'm thankful for so many things I would never know I was had I not written this down. We forget, we take for granted, we ignore our feelings and ourselves until we are forced. I guess subconsciously we all procrastinate, even for good things.

the recent images of fidel castro have Cubans making bets, making plans, cashing in jars of pennys for plane tickets... this seems too goodto be true. i'm so excited to see whats going to happen to my little country. it will be such a tremendous timne, historically. i'm still unsure of the outcome. his death was something we cynically have been awaiting for decades. now that it is near, it's hard to believe. it's something that's always thought about, dreamt about, but now, i'm a little afraid. things could be worse. things could also be better, and make every livinfg cuban, and also those who sadly never witnessed this day, dreams come true. it's a tremendous time, i'm so worried/thrilled/nervous/ecstatic. I can't wait to make my pilgrimage.

Esta la cosa bien difícil para celebrar
No tienen lechón pa’ azar
Ni arbolito de Navidad
Es que esta la cosa bien difícil para festejar
Dicen que el Niñito llora
A ver su gente no gozar

No tienen nada pa’ comprar
Ni tienen con que regalar
No tienen ganas de bailar
Con lo sofocantes que están

Es que esta la cosa bien difícil para celebrar
No tienen de comer esta Navidad
Esta la cosa bien mal para olvidar
Que se han huido llorando
Dejándolo toda al azar

No tienen razón pa’ cantar
Ni tienen con que regalar
No tienen ganas de bailar
Con lo atrapados que están

Aunque esté la cosa bien difícil esta Navidad
Se ponen a hablar, y a nostalgiar
No necesitan regalos, se ponen a soñar
De libertad y alegría
Y un arbolito de Navidad.

I have no words. Which apparently I don't need a blog to prove-- just an essay. I got my first essay back today, and it totally crushed my spirit and my confidence. Writing was the only thing I had, I thought, over some people. I could turn a phrase, and write a killer sentence. I had my own style, my own cadence. I knew how to flow. I I I I I . Repetetive. It's like all the praise I've reciweved about my writing could possibly be false. It's? It what? Vague Pronouns. I'm feeling an overwhelming sense of uselessness, overthinking things. But I'm so goal oriented and so many of my goals have to do with my (in)ability to write. And if I'm not as good as I feel I am, or as others have told me I am, then where now? Maybe I am Stockton material. Maybe I think too much of myself. I may be no better than the changelings. I'm mediocre. I'm an averge writing with an average capacity towards knowledge. When you are constantly being reminded of your talent, or your gift as Walter put it, and meet someone who thinks you're giftless, talentless, "stupid", it's shocking, and shattering. When he gave me back my essay he said "youre not stupid" which hints that he thhought I was. My essays showed glimmrs of promise. My essays for Walter showe d "glimmers of brilliance" fucking brilliance. Where did that all go? Where am I supposed to go? I'm so confused.

Cierras los ojos
Para ignorar
Que esta vida es llena
De llanto y soledad

Estrechas los brazos
Te pones a volar
Fuera de esta vida
Persiguiendo la verdad

Das reino suelto a lo que sientes
Te pones a llorar al no sentir
Buscas otra vida en vez de este
Te pones a llorar al no vivir

Hoy no se encuentra nada
Caminas, caminas, sin parar
Hoy buscas lo perdido
Buscas lo bailado, y lo reído
Y estalla tu corazón
Por lo que no se ha vivido

Pasas por frío
Para poder sentir
Algo de la vida
Algo físico, algo emocional

Te encierres por dentro
No dejas a nadie entrar
Desde el día que te fuiste
Todo se puso a cambiar

Das reino suelto a lo que sientes
Te pones a llorar al no sentir
Buscas otra vida en vez de este
Te pones a llorar al no vivir

Hoy no se encuentra nada
Caminas, caminas, sin parar
Hoy buscas lo perdido
Buscas lo bailado, y lo reído
Y estalla tu corazón
Por lo que no se ha vivido

Hoy te encuentras con nadie
Ignoras, ignoras, y pierdes
Hoy buscas a un amigo
Y los ha perdido todos
Y estalla tu corazón solitario
Por todo lo que has perdido.

Crossroads. Confusion. Uncertainty. I've been worried about this day since May 2006. And November 2 is fast approaching and I remain unprepared. THE OC GREYS ANATOMY THE OC GREYS ANATOMY. I love them both. Openly. McSleepy could laugh if he wishes. He hasnt yet. But he LOLed at Greys the first time we met. Thats when Istopped talking to him. "Youre all invited to bite me"-Phoebe Buffay. It feels weird to have to wait a day to watch the OC, which brought me joy each and every thursday night and happily filled the gaping gaping hole in my heart left when my FRIENDS walked down the hallway of my life forever. The OC was good! and jucier than Friends, thugh not as funny. Greys is better than the OC. But Im not ready to give up on my Summer just yet. And when the season DOES end, I'll feel very very sad. I may cry the tears I couldnt shed for FRIENDS.

I miss quiet.

.... Prefiero despertar. Except for today. Today,for the first time in a long time, I want to sleep. I have been criticizing and mocking sleepers for so long, those who crawl out of bed and thrash around their bedsheets as the sunlight beams onto them. But today, I want to be a sleeper. I want to ignore deadlines and duedates and classes. I want to roll around ymy beechsheetsand rather than mock sleepers for sleeping I want to mock themfor not having such comfortable bedding. I want to do sick things. I want to drink juice and be brought food by old Cubans named Abuelo and Abuela and cough up phleghm into a trashcan that is not shared and watch DVDs and TV Land and and and. Dorms are not soothing. They are not comforting. They are not eas y places to be sick in. It is hard to focus and hard to get rid of a headache when the changelings WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO for no reason. they WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO out of lack of knowing any other word. Tonight, I stare at my bed, my comfortable sheets, my extremely soft furry target blanket, and my puffy comforter. Its taunting me. But the huge amount of postits stuck to my wall with dates and projects laughs at it, because the post its know they are winning. and my bed and i are sad that we cannot be together.

Dear coffee maker. Today, you are my best friend. i want nothing more than to have you give off sweet deep smells as i lay in bed and watch Grey's Anatomy. That day, dear coffee-maker, would be absolutely perfect. What would make it even better is if my bed were the only bed in this room. but i must share. I have to share noise, space, and sweet coffee-smelling air. I'm not good at sharing. i was always yelled at in school for it. But ihave been considerate. I do not play my music while the unnamed is in here. Yet he plays his. This may surprise you, (readers, not coffeemaker, though I still love you boo) but I do not enjoy Eminem, 50 Cent, or all sound same yelly rock music. This is very frustrating, he sucks at sharing as well, and is not considerate. I should stop trying.

As long as I'm here, it won't get any easier to leave. We all had a very bad day. It's hard to talk about, I broke my dad, or he broke me, we broke eachother. not on purpose. but he's the only person who knows what I'm going through, he knows everything and understands everything. It's a lot to handle right now.

Translated from Shakira's "No"

What’s the point in apologizing
Stop insisting to be heard
Your excuses are an outdated waste of breath
Don’t look at me longingly
With hopeless dreams of us
Lethally armed with toxic hurtful words

For the last time, I’m begging to be free
I can still feel you deep inside of me
Killing Me
At your age you proclaim maturity
You should know not to treat others like you have me

How can anyone live with so much poison
I had so much hope for you and me
Hoping we’d never be
Apart
It breaks my heart

How can anyone live with so much poison
You can’t dedicate your life
Ignoring good intentions
Ignoring all the world
Drowning in your poison

I hope you don’t expect me to expect to see you
Coming around soon
I’ve run out of what little patience I had

I drift, deciding back and forth
Searching blindingly
Maybe you’ll be bothered and leave me be

For the last time, I’m begging to be free
I can still feel you deep inside of me
Killing Me
At your age you proclaim maturity
You should know not to treat others like you have me


How can anyone live with so much poison
I had so much hope for you and me
Hoping we’d never be
Apart
It breaks my heart

How can anyone live with so much poison
You can’t dedicate your life
Ignoring good intentions
Ignoring all the world
Drowning in your poison

If I had worked harder, if i had taken things more seriously, if i were smarter and better prepred, i wouldn't be here right now. and for now, i am stuck. stuck amidst a sea of people i do not like. i've tried, believe me. i've extended myself, others have extended theirselves, and i find no one here i click to. mentally, they all lack several dozen iq points. i know i'm not smart, but i definitely do not sound stupid when i speak, i'm definitely capable of coherence in thought and sentence. they however are not. they all have stupid catch phrases like "i hear that". They're attention spans are comparable to that of a flea and the amount of effort is put more into super smash brothers than the impending deadline of a paper. they lack focus, they lack spunk, they lack personality. everything here lacks personality. everything here is just ... here. the people here just exist. they have no plans they have no goals they have o motivation. they are content with their place in the world and have no motivation, drive, or reason to move forwards. it's horrifying here. is this what the college experience is? is this what we work all our lives to arrive to? I doubt it. So for now, I'm stuck at the lopsided college experience, the world of the unmotivated, the land where time stands still. i wish i could talk to my parents, i wish i could tell them what its like here, and be completely honest. but they'd worry, they'd feel bad, and they can't do anything. I've lied, i've tried, i really did try. i really tried to make the best of a bad bad situation. but no one's clicking, nothing's happening. everyone's at the same mental capacity. i regret not doing better, i regret not applying a little out of my reach. i regret a lot of things, but most of all i regret ever agreeing to come here.

Get a sense of where I am
I come to my senses
The path that Im treading
Is winding
Is winding down
Around here
There’s nothing
Around here
There’s no one
There’s nothing

It’s me standing alone
On my own
Summing up the strength
Growing a set
And letting go
Letting go

Try to remember what I dreamt last night
Regain my sight
In the blinding sunlight
It’s clear here
I’m unclear
Where am I going
I’m unclear
What am I doing
What the hell

It’s me standing alone
On my own
Summing up the strength
Growing a set
And letting go
Letting go

That fear that’s often dreaded
Left unsaid
Left to take its toll on
Unsuspecting optimists
Like me
Had taken me over
Had tried to take over
Unsuccessfully

It’s me standing alone
On my own
Summing up the strength
Growing a set
And letting go
Letting go

The Hispanic family is a very complex beautiful thing. It should be studied, it should be envied. Not many are lucky to have what I do, and feel the love and support I feel. Not many feel so much comfort with so many people. I love my family. I cannot think what life is like without them constantly near me. I was talking to Michelle and she said that we're both so close to our families and though I'mn closer time wise, it's going to be hard fr me. Being in SF is hard for her, she thought it would get easier. but when you're raised in such a loving environment, it's hard to be alone. it's hard to be quiet, and be with no one. we're loud, we're fun. Nothing Cuban is ever quiet. And now, it's just me and the quiet. It'll take getting used to. It'll be hard being way, not seeing everybody every week for dinner or on the street. It's going to be hard not hearing everybody downstairs. It doesn't get easier when you're that close. The Latin family is close-knit. It's such a strong unbelieveable bond. Family is so important. It's going to be hard not being here for everthing now.

This is the start of a new end
Everything is just beginning
Everything is at my feet
On my shoulders

I hide away in nothing
Nowhere to be found
I’m not looking for anyone
Nobody’s even around

I’m all alone
The world’s on my back
And all I want to do is turn around
I’m all alone
Just looking back
No one that I know is still around

There’s a million ways
To go from here
To start from here
Where to now

I hide away in nothing
Nowhere to be found
I’m not looking for anyone
Nobody’s even around

I’m all alone
The world’s on my back
And all I want to do is turn around
I’m all alone
Just looking back
No one that I know is still around

I feel very aware of what's happening tomorrow. It's irritating, but it's nice to feel.