The intention of this blog is to keep record of my thoughts, ideas, songs, poems, letters and experiences: this is my chosen way of expressing myself. I tend to write letters to others, even when I know they will never read them. If anybody ever reads it, I hope you find inspiration, motivation, entertainment, distraction or comfort through these words. I write for me, 4 Susana, for my journey, for my sake. It's a long process, that of finding yourself. For me, for you, for all, Love always.
Sunday, March 15, 2015
Contrast
While others insist in distancing themselves from negative energy, I welcome it. I embrace both the positive and the negative... Seeking contrast and balance in everything. I'm comfortable sacrificing happiness for doses of creative energy from time to time. Some of the most amazing poems ever written emerged from pain and anger... Even fear. So I welcome negativity, not because I like to suffer, but because I love and live to experience everything intensely.
Friday, March 6, 2015
Avalanche
When you finally think you're fine and all of a sudden a memory pops out of nowhere and hits you hard like a snowball to the face and then again that little snowball gathers all the other countless memories and every moment starts coming back to your awareness and next think you know it's a fuckin avalanche from hell coming down and knocking you down below the cold sharp ice and as you roll down into the abyss of hurt you feel it cutting you deeper than before because you realize now that that's all you got, fuckin memories, no more moments, no more kisses, no more time together... So you roll down and surrender yourself to the painful death of your very own preconscious... And you hate him more for breaking you, and you hate yourself even more for remembering... Someone slap me.
Thursday, March 5, 2015
I Was Wrong
I was wrong about a lot of things, like thinking I wanted a relationship. It wasn't the relationship I longed for, but the love of a man. That's what had been missing from my life. As distant as the moon, the genuine love of an amazing man eluded me. Realizing the contrast of what I thought I wanted and what I actually aspired for was incredibly impactful to me. It shifted my ideals and required a drastic change of game plan. One can't find pearls in the mud, right?
I was wrong about conversations: I thought I needed to speak my mind to draw people in, or keep them close. Sometimes people just wanted to be in my presence. The stillness of silence is sometimes enough.
I was wrong about the myth of "being yourself." No, I'm not saying one should be fake, but being "yourself" has its dangers, and depending on what you're trying to accomplish or where you're trying to go, it's sometimes better to guard yourself, or stay a mystery and not always be transparent. It is not about mistrusting the world and being paranoid, but about being smart and strategic. It's not an eagerness to control everything what should move you to practice these principles, but a desire to acquire what you long for in a more permanent and meaningful way.
I was wrong about circumstances. I thought it would be safe to move away when pain or boredom hit. It's not about the outside circumstances what will define your perception of life, but about your inner voice, your state of mind. This is a controllable. This doesn't depend on anything or anybody but your own psyche. Yes, the distraction of a new environment will serve its purpose: distract you from your reality, but sooner or later when the novelty subsides, you'll find yourself back to square one. It's about finding your inner peace, no matter where you physically find yourself.
I was wrong about my work. I was wrong about the type of leader that I am. I am learning and have a long way to go, but I've realize I'm a doer. I can't sit still and I struggle delegating. I know what I am to do, yet I find myself doing the opposite. It's my controlling nature to want to do things for myself; for one, because I love being independent and I love being right. This moves me to do things over and over until they're second nature to me and they become perfect. When I assign these tasks to others, I always find myself discontent with the outcome. It is negative of me and it's selfish to not let things go, or not trust others in the process. I know I have to become a better coach by trusting them and being patient. Although, I find peace in knowing that I also love teaching. If I can focus not on how well the task is to be completed, but on the process of developing others, I will be successful. I am a work in progress.
I was wrong about my perception of expression. Yes, I still believe it's an innate right for each of us to express ourselves. What changed was a simple shift of thought: it went from mere support of our freedom of expression, to an understanding that our expression is, in fact, freedom. If I ever found myself unable to write, I would feel imprisoned. I sometimes fantasize of being an actual prisoner, with all the time and freedom in the world to write my story, my thoughts, my words and feelings. No, I don't think it would be an actual pleasant experience in all the other aspects of life, but in that of expression, it would be magnificently liberating and alluring.
I was wrong about sensuality. Wrong to have always associated it with sexuality. Two completely different things. Could one lead to the other? of course. But sensuality is about the senses. I am a sensual person not because I have a high sex drive, or because I play with the seductive attributes of The Siren, but because everything I see, or hear, or smell, or touch is exquisitely intense. I find myself distracted by simple movement of branches on a tree, or bright colors of neon signs, or lost in the blur of spinning wheels. I wonder if other people see the world the way I do, and if they choose to keep it to themselves to avoid the weird stares. There must be people out there who function the same way, though. I don't even think it would be a constructive connection, to be honest. I say this not because I don't think things we relate one another with are detrimental, but when it comes to intensity, they sometimes are. But I digress...
I was wrong about family. I say to myself my family and I are very close, and yes, it's true to a certain extent. Our love and our bond is strong. But what exactly does it mean to be close? Back to relating: I find myself excited at the fact that my brother and I enjoy watching the same TV shows; however, this isn't what being close is about. Our values are so different now. My sisters and parents are religiously inclined, my brother is ambitious, and I? I find myself in a distant side of a 3-sided spectrum. I don't know in what meaningful ways we actually connect. Other than love. But, here's the thing, I was wrong about love too.
Love isn't everything. Is it a powerful force or energy that caused the creation of the Universe? I used to believe that. Is it actually true? Who knows. Some days I laugh at the idea. What is love then? I don't know. There is no formula, no equation and no real explanation for it. It's a word someone invented to pour in the rest of unexplainable energies (emotions, vibes) that we just couldn't describe or differentiate from the rest.
I was wrong about certain people, and this is the most painful one. I was wrong about their intentions. I was naïve. I was wrong when I thought they actually cared about me, when I thought they meant well, when I thought they at least wanted the best for me. But in reality, why am I expecting people to be so good to me? That's MY job... to be good to myself and have it be enough. Of all the things I could be an advocate of, the freedom to choose who to be, how to be, and the stance of your very own individualistic way of finding happiness- would have to be it.
"Respect of the rights of others is peace."
I was wrong about conversations: I thought I needed to speak my mind to draw people in, or keep them close. Sometimes people just wanted to be in my presence. The stillness of silence is sometimes enough.
I was wrong about the myth of "being yourself." No, I'm not saying one should be fake, but being "yourself" has its dangers, and depending on what you're trying to accomplish or where you're trying to go, it's sometimes better to guard yourself, or stay a mystery and not always be transparent. It is not about mistrusting the world and being paranoid, but about being smart and strategic. It's not an eagerness to control everything what should move you to practice these principles, but a desire to acquire what you long for in a more permanent and meaningful way.
I was wrong about circumstances. I thought it would be safe to move away when pain or boredom hit. It's not about the outside circumstances what will define your perception of life, but about your inner voice, your state of mind. This is a controllable. This doesn't depend on anything or anybody but your own psyche. Yes, the distraction of a new environment will serve its purpose: distract you from your reality, but sooner or later when the novelty subsides, you'll find yourself back to square one. It's about finding your inner peace, no matter where you physically find yourself.
I was wrong about my work. I was wrong about the type of leader that I am. I am learning and have a long way to go, but I've realize I'm a doer. I can't sit still and I struggle delegating. I know what I am to do, yet I find myself doing the opposite. It's my controlling nature to want to do things for myself; for one, because I love being independent and I love being right. This moves me to do things over and over until they're second nature to me and they become perfect. When I assign these tasks to others, I always find myself discontent with the outcome. It is negative of me and it's selfish to not let things go, or not trust others in the process. I know I have to become a better coach by trusting them and being patient. Although, I find peace in knowing that I also love teaching. If I can focus not on how well the task is to be completed, but on the process of developing others, I will be successful. I am a work in progress.
I was wrong about my perception of expression. Yes, I still believe it's an innate right for each of us to express ourselves. What changed was a simple shift of thought: it went from mere support of our freedom of expression, to an understanding that our expression is, in fact, freedom. If I ever found myself unable to write, I would feel imprisoned. I sometimes fantasize of being an actual prisoner, with all the time and freedom in the world to write my story, my thoughts, my words and feelings. No, I don't think it would be an actual pleasant experience in all the other aspects of life, but in that of expression, it would be magnificently liberating and alluring.
I was wrong about sensuality. Wrong to have always associated it with sexuality. Two completely different things. Could one lead to the other? of course. But sensuality is about the senses. I am a sensual person not because I have a high sex drive, or because I play with the seductive attributes of The Siren, but because everything I see, or hear, or smell, or touch is exquisitely intense. I find myself distracted by simple movement of branches on a tree, or bright colors of neon signs, or lost in the blur of spinning wheels. I wonder if other people see the world the way I do, and if they choose to keep it to themselves to avoid the weird stares. There must be people out there who function the same way, though. I don't even think it would be a constructive connection, to be honest. I say this not because I don't think things we relate one another with are detrimental, but when it comes to intensity, they sometimes are. But I digress...
I was wrong about family. I say to myself my family and I are very close, and yes, it's true to a certain extent. Our love and our bond is strong. But what exactly does it mean to be close? Back to relating: I find myself excited at the fact that my brother and I enjoy watching the same TV shows; however, this isn't what being close is about. Our values are so different now. My sisters and parents are religiously inclined, my brother is ambitious, and I? I find myself in a distant side of a 3-sided spectrum. I don't know in what meaningful ways we actually connect. Other than love. But, here's the thing, I was wrong about love too.
Love isn't everything. Is it a powerful force or energy that caused the creation of the Universe? I used to believe that. Is it actually true? Who knows. Some days I laugh at the idea. What is love then? I don't know. There is no formula, no equation and no real explanation for it. It's a word someone invented to pour in the rest of unexplainable energies (emotions, vibes) that we just couldn't describe or differentiate from the rest.
I was wrong about certain people, and this is the most painful one. I was wrong about their intentions. I was naïve. I was wrong when I thought they actually cared about me, when I thought they meant well, when I thought they at least wanted the best for me. But in reality, why am I expecting people to be so good to me? That's MY job... to be good to myself and have it be enough. Of all the things I could be an advocate of, the freedom to choose who to be, how to be, and the stance of your very own individualistic way of finding happiness- would have to be it.
"Respect of the rights of others is peace."
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