(no title)

August 5, 2013

Winner?

She looked across the room at her prize. The hard work has finally paid off. She spent most of her youth to earn this. She has many bruises to prove it. She’s lost friends in the process, gained some enemies and stunted her personal growth for this.

She remembers when she first became aware of her longing. She had wanted this for quite some time now. And as everything else in life, a prize is not a prize without some competition. In fact, having someone to compete against was what fueled her drive.

She also remembers being made fun of in the 6^th grade for having enormous eyes. They called her goldfish. She pretended she did not care, pretended to have a thick skin. But like most things that are not real, they do not fool others for long.

He on the other hand called her beautiful. He was her prize. He allowed her to feel helpful. He allowed her inside of his intricate world. He allowed her to win. He changed the rules of the game and permitted a runner-up to wear the crown and wave at the audience.

And even when the audience dwindled down and her crown turned into rust she valued the title that she was once given.

Even after the bruises she endured and the time she had squandered she still holds dear to her figurative crown. She looks back at the moment when last year’s runner up took the crown from the girl who won three years before her. The previous winner decided to give up her title to the girl with goldfish eyes.

She remembers the moment when the girl decided to give up her title; when the girl decided to give him up. She remembers the moment when she lost a friend and gained an enemy. She remembers the moment when she introduced her newly turned enemy to the man that made her feel included before he had yet to make her feel beautiful.

She remembers the man who made her feel valuable choosing her now enemy as his love… instead of her.

She remembers regretting giving him an ultimatum; giving him a choice. Giving herself the option to feel unworthy.

She could have sworn she was better. So she swore to never feel this way again and in her eyes he was a prize. He is the Prize. In her eyes he validated who she was, who she is. The only way she could ever feel worthy again was to win.

She remembers the couple choosing each other as their first. Just like he remembers the moment when his first love gave up the title to the runner up.

He had no choice but to include the girl who made herself available. The girl with goldfish eyes.

She remembers the way he mistreated her. The way he made her feel included yet ostracized her in public.

What she doesn’t remember is him mistreating her then competitor. She remembers the way that he spoke of her now enemy, with such spirit and passion. She remembers the way he never spoke of her. She remembers the way he kept her a secret. She remembers the way in which her enemy was always present. Not physically, but in spirit. Maybe he thought that if he spoke of the devil the devil would appear. Luckily for her he thought wrong.

And now she looks at her prize. ..She looks at him.

Has she really won? And if so, what did she win?

Was her prize the fact that he made her feel loved, even if it was for a fleeting moment? Was the prize having something over her then friend, now enemy?

Is it considered a prize if no one wants it anymore? Is it a prize if the audience that once cheered is now silent? Unable to make a sound, exasperated from booing. She has sacrificed so much for this prize.

But she rather have the memories and corroded crown than nothing at all.

July 1, 2013

comment 0

Monster Child

I was showering with my clothes on in a cube so small that I had to lower my head to fit. When I stepped back there were hundreds of cubes beside me and it seems that everyone else was doing the same. I do not know why exactly I needed to shower or why I was doing so with my clothes on. I then stepped back without looking and almost fell out of my cube and at that moment I had woken up.

It seems that my dreams are getting more bizarre and vivid. My brain has been trying to tell me something for the last couple of weeks and today it finally spoke to me clearly. Looking up my dreams I realize that I am in a position where I feel that my privacy is being invaded and I am not allowing my full self to live.

Reaching adulthood I feel that the line between who I am and who I need to be has been blurred. I am not an “adult.” Although I may be responsible, humble and helpful I will never be able to do the things that “adults,” do on a daily basis while calling it “nice,” and live with myself. This is, because I know the difference between kindness and niceness and I am a kind person. This is also much like someone I know. This person is at a constant state of pretend. The game of house never ends and he/she never knows how they even feel. This is not the way I want to live my life as an “adult.” I might have to acquire more “A lo foke,” in order to survive and let the thug in me thrive without apologies. For those who don’t know “A lo Foke,” is the act of not having one fuck to give in Dominican.

Lately I have been feeling like “Dexter.” I know that we all have “monsters” inside of us and that doesn’t make me special. However, I also know that we try not to express them even to ourselves. We work so hard on keeping them in that only our subconscious knows. But much like the Swedish Proverb says “Those who wish to sing will find a song.” If you don’t take care of the monsters inside they will find ways to come out when you least expect it. We all have parts of ourselves that we are not fully proud of. And I don’t mean qualities such as not cleaning up after yourself or slamming doors, but something deeper and it is our job to find it. Once we find it we must give it a job in our lives where it feels accepted and tamed so that it doesn’t try to bite you in the ass. I feel that pretty soon I will get bitten.

This “monster,” is like a troubled child. You must love it for what it is, not what you need it to be. My “monster,” is my thug nature. Although I am outspoken, fearless, solution seeking and boss this thug nature also has a negative side. I use all of the positive attributes that life has given me with my struggles and push the negative ones in the corner such as my love for violence, impatience and other characteristics that only Scarface is known to have. I see myself as a nurturing, kind person who constantly wants to improve the lives of others. This thuig-ness does not fit into my personality so I push it aside in the hopes that it will go away. It has been sitting in a corner for too long while I forgive the obviously dim mistakes of others and work hard at my job. However when I don’t give the negative side something to do in its spare time I find that I am lost. I am completely whole as in I know when to use what side of me, but as an “adult,” I have not been able to express them equally. This suppression is dangerous, so I am looking back at what I naturally gravitated towards when I was in my teenage years and I found that the solution lies in video games and horror movies.

I will feed the hippie in me by going to yoga, helping others and planting flowers, but when I am home I must drink some wine, play some Bioshock or Last of Us and watch movies that 99% of the population finds disturbing. Also,although I may be loving I have a short fuse for stupidity. I have pretended to let it slide for so long, but it is time that I react to things naturally, not the way I “should.” Because I do accept my monster child, but it doesn’t know that I love it yet. These dreams are telling me to show it the love it deserves, because it is part of who I am.

You must accept yourself fully and deeply. I am getting closer to that` every day. Once I am there I will finally call myself an adult.

June 24, 2013

comment 0

Ballet Recitals and Soccer Practices

“Have more than thou showest, speak less than thou knowest” – Shakespear

I remember looking at these letters intently. It was written on the wall of my 7th grade English classroom by Mrs. Fein. It seemed very obvious to me at that time and even as children we like to show the world what we are made of. However, we always knew that some things about yourself are to be yours and yours alone. I grew up in the time of secret journals, boxes with locks and hidden doorways; where we understood the importance of keeping a secret that only you and you alone knew about. Now even the convicts give themselves away by posting about their latest illegal activity.

People used to practice at home and only show others what they had once they had it. Now everyone wants to announce their goals before they even have a game plan in mind. Studies show that the more you proclaim something the more you lose motivation, because the false praise from others tricks your brain into believing that you’ve already completed your goal; Thus, creating useless people. I have a motto that I use when cleaning my home and life, “If something is not useful it is useless and what do we do with useless things? We throw them away.” Yes, a person’s heart is useful too, if someone brings joy into your life that person is valuable to you. However in technical terms if they cannot contribute to the world as a whole they are useless.

We no longer show off the fact that we are talented. We just show off the fact that we are interested. If all of the great became known for simply showing interest then we would get nothing done. It is the reason why nothing is getting done, we all “pray for Boston,” and “never forget,” while we go about our daily lives. We gave a fuck, we did our job.

I do not remember or pray if there is no actual proof that I am doing something to better the quality of life of the people I care about. It is this false praise that leads us to the act of doing nothing. Doing nothing has become such a thing that we occupy ourselves with becoming Jacks of all trades and masters of none. So many skills are being learned, but no one reaches past level 2. It seems that level two is the milestone for showing off.

I have many talented friends, but it seems that we have become so “open minded,” that those who would have gotten rejected years ago, we are now being forced to listen to and support just because we happen to be part of their lives. I am constantly going to toddler’s ballet recitals and soccer practices.Just because someone can hold a tune, does not mean that their voice is something that we would want to hear, just because you have rhythm does not mean that you can professionally dance. Just because you can read music does not mean you are good at your instrument. I would not mind to have you shake it like no one is watching or singing like you’re in the shower at a party, but the moment when you not only want, but demand others to listen and support you then your talents are being put on a judging panel and it is perfectly fine to let someone know that they are not good enough to perform on stage. I am all for showing off your talents, but I am also all for perfecting them. Those who receive the false praise never perfect their talent. And guess who has to listen, everyone else.

So go ahead and perform if you wish, yes, performing feels amazing. Applause is a drug. But do it for you and you alone and do not expect those around you to support you. I suggest that you perform by yourself. Do not post or invite people that you know to “support,” you. (Unless you know that you are pretty damn good) If by any chance at the end of the performance someone that is not just interested in you sexually tells you that you are good, then you have a true fan. But, don’t go forcing people into giving you praise. Not everyone has what it takes,not everyone will like your expressions. However, everyone has something worth contributing to the world. Sometimes, your musical talents or genetics are not on that list and you have to accept that.

That, my friend is called self-esteem; it is not putting yourself on a pedestal and thinking that you are above anyone. It is accepting what you are and understanding that you are still important. This in turn will cause you to respect the hard work that others put in to get to where you want to be and motivate you to do more. You shouldn’t want the same admiration that the greats received; you should strive to be at their level in all honesty, regardless of the praise.

For those of you who disagree I will leave you with a note although bad for humanity is surely positive for you.

Ke$ha sold more albums than The Beetles.

Just a reminder to you that in my opinion I am the minority.

I will, however never forget the words on Mrs.Fein’s seventh grade classroom and refuse to go to ballet recitals and soccer practices, unless you are my child, or pretty damn good.

June 6, 2013

comments 9

I’m not racist or anything…

When I was younger my cousin and I would play a game when we were bored. We would turn on the television, flip though the channels and say white or black. We would tally up how many white and black people we would see on the screen. Anyone that was not white we would count as black. If the person on the screen was Asian or Hispanic we would yell out Black. Once we were done flipping through the channels we would look at our tally’s and count. Nine out of ten times white had more than 50% of the tallies. Not only was it a social experiment, but as two pre-teen Hispanic girls this was another way in which we felt cheated.

We began to play this game, because growing up we hear that life will be harder for us, growing up we knew that life was harder for us, but growing up in an all Dominican neighborhood we did not actually know how hard it would be. There was one kid in the entire 6th grade class who didn’t know Spanish. That is how Hispanic my neighborhood was. So we wanted to test out what we thought we knew with the outside world. When you are young growing up in a hood the only outside world you have is television. If you ask anyone that has ever watched television with me, you will know that I am very hyper aware when watching and know all the sciences behind every move captured. I became well versed in the language of television. If you can master the lies of the professionals then the novices who lie to your face will be picked out before they even conciser to lie. My cousin is 3 years younger than I. I wanted her to know that she will only be lied to if she allowed it. She learned how to see the truth behind the charade. The truth was that to the outside world, Hispanics or even more so Hispanic women do not matter. Our job was to make them give a fuck about us.

Fast forward ten years and with the rising hipster culture it seems that the world gives a little bit too much of a superficial fuck about us. No, we are not respected more in the workforce or have advanced socially. We, Hispanics are now another source for 5th generation Americans to get some culture. Because we all know that the hipster culture is just a culture making desperate attempts to find culture. Cinco de Mayo-ing all the shit that never belonged to them and taking ownership of places they never grew up in. They will also make fun of the actual white trash, because it makes them feel superior. It makes them feel like they are apart from that when in actuality they are just rednecks with i-phones. Sometimes I think that a big reason why hipsters reminisce so much about the 20’s and 50’s is because back then whites were the only people living the American dream. They miss it soo much, even though they weren’t even born. Did we ruin the dream for them?

When it comes to my culture I am very defensive and I will not have anyone pretend to give a fuck. I’m not racist or anything, but the fact that I had to move 15 blocks into Harlem, because I can’t even afford to live in my own neighborhood makes me want to start a racial riot. So now the rent is higher and homey places where I used to get my Sunday brunch are becoming dull and lifeless you would think that there would be some giving back to the community. The parks are still the same and our school systems are still crappy. I not only know this from family members and neighbors, but I know this , because every morning I see the kings and queens of gentrification taking their children on the train to their private elementary schools, even though there is a school right across the street from their home in the ever so cultured Washington Heights.

I feel as if my neighborhood is dying right before my eyes and there is nothing I can do about it. I’m not racist or anything, but I would give anything to have it go back to the way it was… even if the crime rate was a little up.

When I was younger my cousin and I would walk 30 blocks to sit by the water and notice our surroundings. Now I wish I didn’t notice so much about things I can do nothing about.

“Hipsters,they suck the life out of a neighborhood and move once there’s too many of them there. Because they dislike each other just like everyone else dislikes them. Its really sad. Its low self esteem personalized into a culture. They think they belong in another culture because they hate the culture that’s around them, including themselves So they feel the need to move constantly. Because insecure people are never happy so they keep moving because they blame everyone else around them for the way their life has turned out. And in the process other people pay for their insecurities.“ -E.D & A.U

May 30, 2013

comment 1

Lost? (Short)

“I always wanted space when I had too much time. Now that I have the space I have no time.” – Myself (age 13)

I would like to add that now I neither have the space nor the time for these ever expanding goals in my life. I will have to save some for retirement and living vicariously like most of us end up doing. And many people tell me that I can do it all that I don’t have to wait, but while I am crossing goals off my list to get closer to my main objective my life passes me by. It passes me by without me ever knowing if I will get to where I long to be. So the only goals I will be crossing off are the ones that will aid me in feeling and expanding the space around me and making the time to enjoy that space.

I never thought that what I would long for were untouchable, infinite, ungraspable things that could only be seen physically through complex mathematical equations. And much like those who never had love long for it without knowing what they want I long for space and time. How do you get somewhere you’ve never been before without getting yourself lost?

I am at least 75% into my journey and I can say that I am lost, but I am almost there. I do not know where there is, but I do know what I want there to have. There will have lots of space and time for me to roam in and loose my mind.