The Perks of Being a Cuban.

Acceptance is a tough thing to achieve when we do everything in our power to not. It's hard to accept that things change, people change, or that the world is somethimes beyond your control. Sometimes things happen that we just cannot fix. We are a part of a constant evolution, and we'd do whatever we can to stop.

My sister is engaged. I wish I were happy, I really do. For her sake I wish I could accept this. But i can't. I feel uneasy thiinking about a future with him in it. He's never rubbed me the right way and I have a bad feeling about all of this. She seems happy but I just can't. I want to, for her. I cant.

We try to force acceptance, we burry our true feelings way deep down. But do we ever let them go?

This has not been a particularly easy time for you and the ride isn't quite over yet. You may now feel a fresh wave of emotions washing over you, but the danger stems from holding on to the past instead of gracefully flowing into the future. Practice by envisioning a totally new and different scenario without worrying about its practicality. Don't judge your thoughts, however outrageous. Simply thinking about all the possible paths can provide the right opportunity.

I try to ignore horoscopes. They're fake and untrue. THey give false hope. We're all a little superstitious, however much we fight it. We have a quirk, a "thing" that brings comfort and assurance. We don't look for signs, but they happen. Today, while I was writing in my notebook, the AOL horoscope page opened. I didn't click it, nothing was clicked, it just opened. and i read todays and then yesterdays, which i pasted above. It was sort of spot on, which scared me. I've struggled recently with the conflict between past and present. I've tried toi come to terms with what's behind me, while attempting to welcome what's around me. It's something that in time will come to me, I'll stop dwelling. I've already stopped. I'm learning and growing and thinking too big which for now is okay. I'll get there.

Along the way, you lose touch. I've lost touch with several people I've cared about. But today, I met up with some of my best friends from grammar school. We lost touch and somehow everyone picked up where we left off. It was so weird to se eeveryone again, I was nervous that it wouldn't be the same. We are all so much more mature now. It's just so weird. Good weird. It was nice. I had an easier time with them than I ever have with "the others". The first friends you make are always your best. I hope this sticks.

I'm writing this though I should already be well on my way to meet with friends. They want to meet /hang out at Prep. When I read that and felt no excitement or need to go there, I felt relief. It's a relief to be moving forward, to find resolution in where I am and finally stop feeling like there's too much left behind. There's no need for me to ever go to Prep. It's not like SFA which shuts down if i visit, the entire school gets excited. At Prep, no one really gets too thrilled, it's a bigger place, I'm a smaller fish who doesn't fit there much anymore. I'm moving forward. So all this time I felt like I was stuck in the past, not moving while everyone else did, I realize that my friends still haven't moved on. I don't want to go today. It just doesn't feel right being there. That's not my school anymore.
SFA will always be my school. I was there for 8 years. There, I was nurtured and nourished. They fed our minds and souls like a mother does her own children. There are deep rooted connections in SFA that do not exist at Prep. I grew up at SFA, they saw me and continue to see me maturing. They've been there for every moment in my life good and bad. The connection there is different to that of Prep. I loved my high school, but SFA is my home.

I'm kind of stuck between wanting to go back to school and dreading it. Going back means the start of classes again. New teachers, assignments, things to preoccupy myself with. I think I'm okay with all of this. finally. It's something I've combatted for a long time, my hard head. I'm stubborn, I did not give my school a chance. I don't see myself there for any longer than this semester, but after leaving the horibble dorm I've felt better about my place in Stockton. That dorm and those people represented everything bad about that place, maybe about college in general. They were the aimless slackers who really had no motive for graduating. I've sincce met people with purpose, with stories and personalities. They are not lifelong friends, but for now they'll do. Things are getting better and for the next five months, they will stay that way

There's no pont in making resolutions when you live your life so arduously trying to not regret your mistakes. You convince yourself that your past was your destiny and that there's no point in changing yourself now. Any other mistakes will just make you more sure of who you are. So you make resolutions to better yourself, and eventually give up. You loe control of the plan you've set up, it's easier to keep giving into your bad habits. A resolution is a resolve of determination. We are selfishly determined to forget our goals for this year. Our outright refusal to grow and redesign ourselves become resolutions of their own.



I don’t want to embrace this resignation
Confused for loss of control
I don’t want to hold onto
That which must be let go

I don’t want to make this resolution
Forcing a change within me
I don’t want to force away
Something inside that’s always been

A part of who I was
Tortures me this day
I played the part of the coward
A part of me still pays for what I’ve done

Renounce who I was
Take away the power in my name
Resolve what I’ve done
Devalue my thoughts and things I’ve said
Resolution
Resolution
Worthless, I’ll break you in a month.


I don’t want to make this resolution
Because I’ve lost control
I don’t want to sell my soul
Just because I can’t let things go

A part of who I was
Tortures me this day
I played the part of the coward
A part of me still pays for what I’ve done

Renounce who I was
Take away the power in my name
Resolve what I’ve done
Devalue my thoughts and things I’ve said
Resolution
Resolution
Worthless, I’ll break you in a month.

Thoughtless, I’ll forget you in a month.

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.