Friday, March 27, 2009

:/

After seeing that movie 3 times, then weighing my life, then seeing what I see, then talking with them, and knowing what i want, and not seeing it. ITs time i make a pros and cons list.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Step 2. Letting Go

Its about time I start telling myself the advice that I tell so many other people. Its about time that I actually listen to myself talk. I talk alot. Almost too much for myself to comprehend, because you see... I have ADD. Now its time that I break up this process into steps. We've learned that we need to accept. We may not use it and apply it everyday, but we know that it needs to be done. We're starting to grow. We're learning. We'll get there. Now this was my sad attempt at transitioning to the next step of my progress of change for this new year. Its called letting go. We've accepted that something was wrong. We've accepted that we were unhappy. We've accepted that something happened. We've accepted the past and now its time to let it go and move on. Grow. Prosper. Here is the next challenge: Let go.
As for me its time that I understand the past so that I can leave it behind. I used to think that only a miracle wold help me move on. I have this obsessive tendency to let simple things chew away at me. I let moments of the past, expired empty promises and forgotten days eat away at me. I kept living in the past and focusing on what was done wrong so long ago. Some things were done right but never ended up working out. I never knew that the miracle I was anticipating was something none other than a shift in perception. We need to go back a few steps to go forward, so this is where I began my quest for resolving my issues of the past, so that I can go forward. The present is the only time there is. My miracle is a shift in thinking from what I might have done in the past or should be doing for my future to what I feel is right in the present. THe capacity we have for brilliance is equal to the capacity we have to forget the past and forget the future. The only meaning our past has is that it got us to where we are. It built our character. It taught us to love. It showed us the light. We are here because of where we were. Keep the good, let the rest go. Then what we are left with is the present. The opportunity to push forward, to go and grow and shape a new beginning. Create the start of something new. I've been struggling for sometime now with my past and the past of others. If it effects me I let it eat away at my heart and soul. It used to be an addiction I had. I was addicted to making myself feel sad and angry for things that people did. Its time that I, and whoever else may be reading this (Not many I'd assume) to forgive and move on. "Forgiveness is selective remembering. Its a conscious decision to focus on love and let the rest go." Let the moments of the past be your greatest teachers. Let the bad people of the past be the ones who test your capacity to forgive. It will make us stronger. Its easy to forgive somebody who has never hurt us before, but if one can forgive somebody for extreme amounts of pain, you can let everything but the good go and progress further into your future. I can't count the number of times that I let other girls pasts, Jon's EVERYTHING, image issues, beauty dilemmas, words or unfulfilled promises break me down. I let all the people of the past rule my every action of the now. I lived by what they did and how they acted. Oh she was so much prettier! Oh and she was so much more awesome! She saved the world! She partied! She was fun! They were happy. She was perfect :/ They were perfect. He hurt me. He lied. He left. She cried. Its built us all. Now lets leave it behind like birds do when they fly away. Focus on what's to come. What's now. Its time that we all realize that the only way to move on is to forgive and accept. I'm ready. I've sewed up the tears and goo-be-goned the carpets. Its going to be a great life. :)

Here's the challenge: Live in the present. Let go. Live. Smile. :)

Monday, March 9, 2009

Step 1. Accepting

This is the part of the day/evening where my inner child comes out to play. That 3 foot midget is cooped up inside my large intestines for far too long during daylight savings times. Its been a long hard day at the office (Ok so maybe it wasn't that long and maybe it wasn't even that difficult & to be quite honest I don't nor will i ever have an office, but damn it I sure had my own moments of bitter frustration on this fine March day). I sit here on a children's playground in a park in Fullerton, CA. I sit here because its the best place for me to sit and breather and smile. I sit here because its my escape. I sit here because nobody bothers me when I play here (I'm not gonna lie that could be simply because other parents fear that I will kidnap their children, which to my defense has not happened anymore since Billy at Sylvan park...kids are more fun to play dodgeball with than adults I know) Its the place that I call my own. I have always been young at heart, but wise in mind and body. Its my spirit that keeps me on the go. I play on slides, I pretend I am a dinosaur and I finger-paint. I'm also 19 years old. Don't judge. I think its safe to say that I am a rather unique young individual. I don't care what pop songs sing to you or what Rousseau and Plato (some of our greatest philosophical writers) have written about for centuries I am unique damn it. After all, its what I pride myself on. I'm not exceptionally excellent at anything in particular. I don't have any special skills and to be quite completely honest I'm really not that jaw dropping. In the sense of first glances I actually seem to be quite normal. BUT give me about 3.2 seconds to open my mouth, think a thought or move a finger and it becomes clearly evident that there is something strange about this body that writes before you. I can't explain it to you. I can try but at the end of the list you may find yourself cringing and looking for the red x at the top of this blog window, you may not even want to be my friend. I shall give it a go nonetheless:

I'm pushy. I'm an ugly stain on a plain white T. I live vicariously through other's acts of love and happiness. I stare. I poop (what?! Girls don't poop!). I drink way too much tea. I yell at my mother. I love my mother with every thread of my being. Contrary to popular belief I do stand for what I believe in. I'm stubborn. I'm socially awkward beyond belief. I enjoy smelling my own farts. I pick my nose. I'm overly obsessed with pleasing people. I'm overly obsessed with becoming the next Ellen Degeneres. I'm in extreme like with George Clooney. I'm borderline pathetic which some may know as a "doormat". I try too hard. I laugh extremely loud. I am confident. I am determined. They use my nose to cover Connecticut when it rains. I cannot pick a FAVORITE color. I enjoy sniffing kitty cats. I leap without looking. I say irreversibly stupid things. I have been kissed by a whopping 2 people in my life. I'm afraid to put my everything into believing in God. I fear the unknown. I find an incomparable love for elderly people. I smile too often. I have a happiness disease. Some would say that its a good thing. I have a way with people. Apparently I can make anyone have a better day. My remedy is sidewalk chalk. I am afraid to be loved. I almost believe its impossible. I'm passionate. I aspire to be a professional circus performer. Too often I live in a dream, rather than manifest my own reality. I am nothing. I am something. I love him. I have finally forgiven my father. i want a pony. I ride a unicycle. I fly on a trapeze. I spin on spanish webs. I live to perform. I write films and stand-up comedy acts in my journal. I sing on my bike. I kiss too much. Although I may seem outlandish and overbearing with loves and hugs I couldn't be more frightened of the damn things. I secretly wish I was 2 inches taller. I wish he understood. I want a peanut putter and jelly sandwich. I cook because it means that I have created something. I fear that he will never understand, nor wish to. I cry. I wish I could love more. I wish I could give more. I want to help everyone. I enjoy being right. I smell funny. I have a bunion on my left foot's big toe. I have a concave sternum. I have clammy hands. I hate shrimp. I can't digest cheese. I text more than I should. I pride myself on being the creator of a room exploding in laughter. I love. I live. I'm kind. I'm compassionate. I feel amazing, but more than anything I'm happy. Im happy beyond measure. Its inconceivable. I wouldn't change it for the world.

Maybe it isn't so bad after all, but as the list goes on you'll come to realize that I am a rather different form, but at the end of the day I know who I am and what I stand for & for that ladies and gentlemen I couldn't be more proud. I am me. So what if I have irrational fears or I pick flowers with my toes (did I not mention that before? It happens.) The point is that no matter my mood or no matter my frights I am happy. I can't help it. I can only hope that my ideals and my inherently happy diseases becoming catching, preferably airborne.
This is my challenge to you, LOVE with all your heart but most of all love yourself.
ACCEPTANCE.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Listen up!

I've decided to quit over-obsessing on my current idols (Ie; Ellen Degeneres, George Clooney, Noah& the whale etc.) and instead start my own blog that gives you folks at home or in ya dorms my own little views on life and other modern inconveniences. Keep yourselves on the edge of your seats, by anticipating my next words. They will be great. Maybe. We'll see. I'll keep you folks posted. Until then, go indulge yourselves and go to ellen's homepage!!
:)

Ellen's Thought(s).

One of my favorite Ellen thoughts:
"Checks and Balances
I went to the grocery store this weekend to buy some sundries, and something horrific happened. I got caught in line behind a woman who paid with a check. That's pure torture. I thought I was on "Punk'd." Who pays with a check anymore? I never do. I only use my American Express card. (wink) Writing out a check could not take longer. First of all, they don't even get the checkbook out until everything's bagged. Then they have to look at the driver's license, get a manager's approval, stamp it, put it in the special drawer... sacrifice a goat. It takes forever. Then they take out their register and balance their checkbook before they leave. "Let's see, carry the one, take away the nine, add the four..." Even when I used checks, I didn't record them. I just waited for them to bounce and then I knew how much I spent. And if you make a mistake, then you have to void it and start over, or put your initials on it to make it "legal." Is that really legal? How do they know who wrote the initials? It's just two capital letters. Unless you're Prince. Then it's just the one; "P." Maybe that's why he changed his name to that symbol for a while. Harder to forge. I'll bet he has purple checks... with rain on them. Purple Rain checks. Some people take the time to write in the "memo" line. That's so when they get their canceled checks back, they can remember what they were for. "To the LAPD. LAPD? What's this for? (look down to memo line) Ah, yes... bail. Lucky there's that memo line. I thought it was a reminder section. Like, if you write a check to your plumber. In the memo section you can put, 'Remember to wear a belt next time you fix my sink.'"
-Ellen Degeneres

Oh I am OBSESSED.