Sunday, December 26, 2010

The Ride of My Life

2010, where do I even begin? Well for one, this year has truly been a year to remember. It is strange; I can't fully describe it. But I guess I could start by saying that this year has been a roller coaster ride for me. If you know me at all, you know that I have never actually ridden a "real" roller coaster before, but that is only a technicality! And from the way this year has evolved, I can tell you that I most certainly do not need the King's Dominion experience to know what a "real" roller coaster feels like.

You see, at the start of this year, the ride began up and away. However towards the summer, that is where the ride really began. Because towards the summer, I faced a massive drop. Think of the most extreme roller coaster drop, flipping upside, plummeting massive speeds, facing motion of the impossible. Well whatever extreme you can come up with, that drop can describe where I was and how I felt at this time of my life. I can honestly say I had hit my lowest low, vulnerable and out of control. I lost myself within the drop. But now the ride is reaching its end, and I find that everything is being put together. Everything is finally starting to make sense. And I realize now that the ride would not have resulted the way it did if a single event was altered or had not occurred. But man, what a hell of a ride.

Looking back, I can tell you I am changed person. I have come so far, and regardless of where I stand today, good or bad; I am personally so proud of myself. This was a year of new relationships. Burning bridges, building anew. And here I am now, with less than a month left until I turn 18. Like baggage, I will take what I have learned and simply, carry on. Who knows what will come my way at 18? I can definitely say I did not imagine 17 being quite like it has lived up to be. Whatever the case, I am up to the challenge. And here I am now, waiting in line for the next ride: the ride of 2011.

Here I am now, but I'll leave it at this: rest in peace 2010 ♥

Monday, November 29, 2010

Puzzle Pieces of Peace

As the year winds down, I find that I am completing a puzzle. A puzzle containing pieces of mistakes, relationships, love and heartache.

And last but not least: trust.

With this particular puzzle piece, one allows a person within, down to one's deepest core, acknowledging the risk that whomever is granted this puzzle piece, one's trust, could easily leave, and yet accepting the risk anyhow. But maybe, that is the beauty of trust after all. While people have helped me find this piece, people have also helped me abandon this piece as well.

Six months ago, bridges were burned, and this puzzle piece of trust, practically inflamed. Yet six months later, I find myself dizzy, encircling around the single question: am I really ready for this? Ready to give away this piece of trust? After all, this piece is the reason why I had my first heartbreak in the first place. I was finally recovering; how could I possibly give away this puzzle piece? How could I let myself trust someone again? Want to hear my conclusion? That is where a particular person comes along, that kid. That kid scares me. I mean, here I am, giving away this puzzle piece of trust, knowing that he could take this piece and break it, considering it has been broken before. Yet there is something different about that kid. That kid gives me hope. And it is his hope that has given me a reason to give away this puzzle piece, to trust again.

As this year winds down, I find I am completing my own puzzle. Though these pieces may fall apart, I will be ready to stand tall and put the pieces back together. And when all the puzzle pieces are finally put together, that is when I will find peace. This puzzle of peace compiles pieces of mistakes, relationships, love, heartache, even trust. And lastly, this puzzle of peace compiles pieces of me.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Metamorphosis

"Any transition serious enough to alter your definition of self will require not just small adjustments in your way of living and thinking but a full-on metamorphosis."
-Martha Beck

Seventeen years young, and here I am in this whole entire world with my whole entire life to live. For awhile, I lived my life in a sheltered cocoon, a cocoon of security. Security from a boyfriend always by my side, security from close friends that were suppose to last a lifetime. But truth be told, people come and go. And just like that, my cocoon cracked. As my cocoon fell apart, I felt as if I did as well. But broken, I will never be. Stronger is an aspect I am starting to see. And in fact, it is not that my cocoon cracked, but rather unveiled. Unveiling a whole new self. Seventeen years young, and here I am. This is my metamorphosis.

It all began with the movies, you know, those chick flicks that I watch religiously. You see, these movies helped me conceive the idea that a "happily ever after" only consists of a knight in shining armor, whom would save me from a life that I had once known before. A life of loneliness; a life of living in the past. Starting now, I will no longer live like how I described above, and here is why. I have made it on my two feet, without the cocoon of security I once thought I needed. I realize now that I do not need anyone else; I realize now that I never did. I realize now that people will forever come and go, yet people will never destine my happiness. People will never be my "happily ever after". My real "happily ever after" is this: my new life of moving on with no dependency on anybody, but myself. My real "happily ever after" is this: my new profound metamorphosis.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

The Truth

“You never find yourself until you face the truth”
-Pearl Bailey

I have not blogged for over a month. My thoughts are all over the place; my words the same. But I will try to make sense of them all.

She said it was for just 30 seconds. Her heartbeat pounding like a drum, pounding a bit too fast for her reach. In those 30 seconds she was out, out of her own control. And it was that control which was lost, the loss she described two days later. Because two days later, she vividly expressed the irregular, perpetual, unrestrained beats of her heart; the perpetual, unrestrained beats that caught me in this irregular dilemma. Although I saw this answer coming, still I asked for clarification. Althought I saw this answer coming, still I am surprised that I was right.

Arrhythmia.

This is the truth. The truth I blurred out of sight, out of mind. The truth I have hid from for years, yet no longer could I. Just like how the heart attack hit her, the truth hit me. Before I knew it, there it was. The truth, crystal clear. This is not only what my mom died of, but why as well. And the truth is before, I had accepted my mom's loss purposely with empty spaces. Because before, I rather of had a fuzzy comprehension, having thought that just maybe, it would not have hurt as much.

So the truth is, some can survive, but not everyone. And out of bitterness, anger struck me at the thought of this. But here is what I realized. You can give me the history, the a to z's, not leaving out a single detail, yet there will always be so much more to it. I realize now, that no matter what I know, my question may never be answered. I may understand the irregular, perpetual, unrestrained situation. But I will never truly grasp why.

This occurrence happened just this afternoon; an afternoon filled with more realizations than I could have ever imagined. You see, once again, I fell into another panic attack. But this time was different. He use to care, and I would like to believe, in some way, he still does, and even if so, this time was and always will be different. He would have been right by my side. But this time is different. This time, I faced my panic attack on my own two feet. Which scared me, with a kind of fear I never saw coming, because I guess I never saw him leaving.

But here it is. Here I am. This is the truth.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Bruised

"Scar tissue that I wish you saw, sarcastic mister know it all."
-Red Hot Chili Peppers: Scar Tissue

We feel. We react. We are only human. As this summer winds down, I am learning more and more about myself. This summer did not turn out as picturesque as I had imagined. Maybe my expectations were a bit too high to match up with my reality. But that is not the point. The thing is, even in the worst situations there is some type of good, like the glass half full. This summer taught me inner strength. The kind of strength my mom obtained; the kind of strength I need now more than ever.

We feel. We react. We may hurt sometimes. We are all bruised human beings. And as every bruise arises, every bruise fades as well. This bruise, my inner scar, will fade with time. Although, time is no remedy to forgetting. And even then, I do not need that sort of remedy because I do not mind remembering. Because I know this bruise will clear up, and I will be as good as new. And in addition to that, I will be a heck of a lot stronger with the kind of strength my mom obtained. Because with this inner strength, I can be a single step closer to being more like her. And maybe gaining this inner strength will make her proud. I hope so.

All I know is we feel. We react. We will hurt sometimes. But we are all bruised, human beings.

The Rag Doll Who Knew

He knew me more; he knew I trusted him more. He knew my aspirations, my beliefs; he even knew my weaknesses. He memorized every inch of my skin. From the outside in, he knew me, Ella Marie DaCosta Cajayon. He knew too much.

Just like a rag doll he used me, because he knew me. Because he knew I cared about him, even after all the pandemonium he caused. Because he knew he could trust me. Because although he knew my aspirations, beliefs, even my weaknesses, he did not care. Though, there is but a single thing he did care for: himself. Just like a rag doll he used me, because he knew he had me in the palm of his hand. With the palm of his hand, he toiled with my emotions; with the palm of his hand, he opened my eyes to an obscure truth: it was all puppy love for him. Narcissistic, artificial, scripted reality TV relationship, heart-mending puppy love. And how I know that? I know that because if he was the "real deal", we would not be where we are today. Today he just another boy; today I am just another girl.

Yet unlike a rag doll, I know him too. I know his aspirations, beliefs, even his weaknesses. I memorized every inch of his skin. But last night, even he took it too far, even for me. Me, Ella Marie DaCosta Cajayon, the one he knew and was even right about, at least for awhile. You see, he knew me, past tense. He does not know me anymore. Because if he knows me at all, he knows that he will never, not even for a single second, be able to take advantage of me ever again. Because if he knows me at all, he knows that I am no ones rag doll.

He knew me, but here is what he may not know. Starting now, I have moved on from who I know him to be today. You hear me loud and crystal clear. Starting now, I am no longer heart broken. Starting now, I am jubilantly, independent, ready to stand on my own two feet and conquer the world. Just watch me :)

Friday, August 6, 2010

The "How Come's" and "Why Me's" To Heartbreak

"Let go. Why do you cling to pain? There is nothing you can do about the wrongs of yesterday. It is not yours to judge. Why hold on to the very thing which keeps you from hope and love?"
- Leo Buscaglia

I would like to say I have hit rock bottom. Actually let me clarify. It is not that I would like or enjoy to say that, but as of right now, deep down, that is how I am feeling. I cannot exactly explain here, but to sum it up: life could be better. And normally it would be right around here where I would start going off on never-ending complaints, mulling over the "how come's" and "why me's". But I am not going to do that this time.

This is my "how come's" and "why me's" to heartbreak.

How come
I'm not going to complain? 1) Because that is rather irritable and 2) because I think heartbreak is, simply, a mental condition. Okay Captain Obvious! Of course, it is mental; let me further explain. Any heartbreak hurts, that is a given. But I think the impact of that heartache solely depends on how you allow it to effect you. There are always two ways to look at any situation, either with the glass half empty or half full. You could easily engross in your heartache and become tangent to your pain; or you could differentiate that perspective by perceiving your heartbreak as a lesson. I always say how relationships can mold who a person becomes; how relationships are what make us, us. Because relationships, whether good or bad, help us feel; they help us understand what is real. My point being that, although heartbreak SUCKS, I can become stronger, by acting numb to the pain. Does that make any sense? If I do not let my heartbreak get the best of me, I will become stronger. I will be able to uphold new relationships. I will be able to feel, and understand what is real again.

And why me? 1) Because I believe pain can make a person stronger 2) because what is satisfaction without pain in the first place? And 3) because it really isn't the end of the world! I'll explain chronologically. First off, I believe pain makes you stronger because, well I don't know about you, but it would put me at much ease, with the idea of being able to shift past this. If I could progress through this pain, then I can be content once again, and even better, I would feel so much stronger. I would feel strength in knowing I was able to move past my pain. And I don't know about you, but that sounds pretty good right about now! Don't you think? Secondly, can there really be full satisfaction without pain? If nothing upsets you, then isn't the good just the norm? This second idea goes hand and hand with the first concept, because for instance, if I could depart from all my hurt, wouldn't that feel satisfying? And wouldn't that satisfaction make me stronger? You don't have to agree, but that is how I choose to look at it. And lastly, heartbreak is surely not the end of the world. I refuse to ponder, "why me" to heartbreak because the harsh reality of the matter is simply: everyone experiences it. This heartbreak is honestly not going to kill me. And what does not kill you, simply makes you stronger, right? Well, I will find out, for myself, if that cliche can be considered a factual statement. Because no matter what unfolds, I will stand tall even if it all goes wrong.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Head Over Heart

"Head to heart as pen to paper.
Head to heart as cream to coffee.
Head to heart as me to you."
-Me (hah)

The pen, cream, and myself are the head because as the head we take control. While the paper, coffee, and yourself are the heart; as the heart you start it all: you are the reason the head must take control. My analogy probably sounds chaotic and confusing, but this should be no surprise. Because as you readers know, everything I'd like to say sounds significantly better in my head then in these posts. But to say the least, I try to explain myself, which is what I am about to do as we speak (or read, in this case?).

This summer I have learned a lot about myself and other people. Once again, I have learned a lot about relationships. I have realized how much I am influenced by my head and heart; both acting like my conscious. My head being the angel on my right shoulder, and my heart being the devil on my left. You see, I fully believe both head and heart go hand in hand when it comes to relationships. And as you will see, I am kind of stuck in a fork in the road right now.

There's this boy; there always is. But this boy isn't good for my head, yet he makes my heart skip beats. Here we go. I could swear, he makes me feel the unreal. With him, I feel invincible; yet with him, I feel so small. And why is that? Because I know he's no good for me, but something keeps me coming back for more. I would like to believe that I rather get hurt, then not know at all. But where is getting hurt leading me? It leads me to mistakes; it leads me to heartbreak. And then I have to ask if it is worth it all? Because if I follow my head, instead, nothing can touch me; nothing can break me. But in contrast, if I follow my heart, then all my walls are down, and anything could hurt me. And do I really want to risk that?

Here is what I have come to conclude. This might get messy, so keep an open mind. My conclusion is this: it takes the two. If you are my heart, then give me a reason why my head should let you in. If my heart only hurts me, then my head needs to move on.

Although these statements are boldly absolute, I'm thinking the absolute is the bold reality of it all. Whether we want it to be or not.

As in any relationship, it takes two. If one person is striving to make a relationship work, and the other person is just watching it happen: the relationship will lead to nowhere. And like a relationship, the head and heart work the same. It really takes the two. If only the heart is striving, and not receiving, then the head will just watch it happen: the heart will lead to nowhere, except pain. This is why the head has to take control. So I repeat one more time. If the heart will be stable, then the head can let it be. Yet if this heart is only broken, the head must move on. I hope I am making some sense right now. Whether or not I am, I will simply leave it at this. I must ask to please refrain from your heart over your head; because, although I may be wrong, I fully believe only hurt will come about. And I repeat,

Although these statements are boldly absolute, deep down, I think the absolute is the bold reality of it all. Whether we want it to be or not.


Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Through the Looking Glass

"The important thing about a problem is not its solution, but the strength we gain in finding the solution."
-Unknown

Have you ever felt like everyone is watching you with a magnifying glass; watching your every single move? Have you ever felt like the weight of the world is on your shoulders; with a weight, a pressure, to satisfy everyone in that world? Whether you answer yes or no to the questions above all I can say is this: it straight-up sucks. There are numerous examples to describe how I feel, but I'll sum it up in a sentence. I feel as if everyone is judging me. And I am easily the biggest hypocrit, considering the fact that I constantly tell people not to care about what others think, but I cannot help it. It's only human, I guess.




About a month ago, a really special friend of mine taped an Emily Dickenson poem on my bedroom window. Whenever I am upset, I open the blinds to read this poem, in hope for answers. This poem is taped on my window; a window made of translucent glass (I don't know if that's an oxymoron, but that is besides the point). As the window is translucent in appearance, I hope my answers will become translucent in hindsight. I just want this magnifying glass, this weight, out of my perspective, out of my life; and in turn I want a window of hope.

A window to see answers; a window to feel faith.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Chicken Flicks

"What we seek we shall find; what we flee from flees from us."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Chicken flicks. It started as a typo, yet evolved to this.

Whenever I'm even the slightest upset, I turn to a classic romance movie, a "chick flick", to make me feel better. Being as girly as I am, I have always loved these "chick flicks". Yet I soon noticed a pattern. There is a direct correlation between my feelings and these romance movies. As my negative feelings increased, so did my viewing of these "chick flicks". Why? All of a sudden I realized this; realized that I was not only watching these "chick flicks" because I enjoyed the plot: this appreciation, maybe even obsession, was deeper than that. I practically viewed these "chick flicks", religiously, for a single reason, a single word: answers.

Maybe I am just another naive girl, who is a crystal clear reason as to why they call these movies "chick flicks", but maybe I am going somewhere with this. Maybe the reason why we, or just us "chicks", are so attracted to these movies is because, maybe somehow, we feel as if these movies will give us answers. I'll suck up my pride and admit this (only once), "chick flicks" are semi-predictable. There is always that one character who is a hopeless romantic, this is where the attraction and appreciation for these movies may have triggered. We feel hopeless looking for answers, just like how that one character is hopelessly in search of love. Here is the irony though. By the end of every "chick flick", that hopeless romantic does, somehow, find his answer, even if his answer wasn't what he expected. And maybe by the end of all these"chick flick's", we don't feel hopeless for an answer anymore. Maybe the reason why we, or just us "chicks", appreciate these movies so much is because, maybe by the end of each movie, we feel/have a sense of hope. A sense of hope that helps us, or just us "chicks", believe that we will find our answer, even if it isn't what we expect.

That is where chicken flicks plays a role. I call this post chicken flicks to direct a certain audience. An audience who mocks these "chick flicks"; an audience who believes these "chick flicks" are downright absurd. Now I am trying my best to act partial with this audience; I will still try to understand this audience. But if any one who is reading this fits under this category, this audience, I ask of one thing: try to understand me, as well. If you think we, or us "chicks", only appreciate these movies because we want that PERFECT love affair; then, you're off. And although I cannot admit this towards everyone, I can declare this for myself. I do not find interest in these movies simply to find a corny romance in my life; it is much deeper than that. I find interest to these movies simply because they give me hope. These movies help me achieve hope, because they make me feel like I can find an answer too, just like that hopeless romantic.

I have one more thing to say to this particular audience, for clarification( as humerous as this sounds) I am directing the audience against these "chick flicks". If you still feel no change in perspective towards these movies, or at least towards why they impact us "chicks" so greatly, then as immature as this is about to sound, I have one thing to say to you. You are a chicken. A big, fat, scared chicken. If after all of this, you still consider "chick flicks" just corny romance movies, then I consider you a chicken because I believe you are just scared to admit that these "chick flicks" are more. And you are scared to admit that they are more, because maybe you are scared/in denial of hope. And please don't lose/be against hope. Because if there is one thing that has kept me going in life, it is hope. And I can understand why after bashing you, you would not want to follow a single word of my advice. But please don't lose hope. You don't have to believe hope comes from these "chick flicks", but at least grasp hope itself.

And that is all I can ask of you, I being another "chick" who likes "chick flicks".

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Bag Old Memories, Welcome Anew

"I don't know that love changes. People change. Circumstances change."
-Nicholas Sparks

Just a bag. That is all it actually is. Or is it? Today I was finally ready; ready to sweep the dust and face the truth. Today, I put all his belongings, our belongings, in a bag today. You see a month ago, these belongings were my world. A month ago, I would have never imagined this day would come. A day where I would decide to place all our belongings, in a bag.

Pack, breath, and move on. That is really all I can do.

While I was collecting every item, every belonging, I recalled a past. Every belonging had a story; every belonging held a memory, which is why it is now stored in a bag, and not a trash bag but a bag. A bag I will keep forever. A bag that will always contain our belongings, our memories; memories of a first love I do not plan to forget, or regret. Because I do not believe any memory, good or bad, shall be forgotten. Because I do believe that, maybe, these belongings, our memories are what makes us, us. And even if I am entirely wrong, it is much easier to let someone go when you have something to hold on to. In this bag are belongings, our belongings that I will forever hold on to. I cannot dwell on the past, yet I refuse to forget it either.

Pack, breath, and move on. That is really all I can do.

PS- I'm sure the repetition of "belonging" must have gotten annoying to read. Trust me, it was annoying to type. But fair warning, get ready to read "belonging" several more times. If you are absolutely irritated with my usage of the word; stop reading. And if you are still reading at this point, hear me out. I did not repeat the word because there was not a single synonym I could replace. There are various synonyms, actually. But I chose to call our possessions "belongings" for a valid reason. I chose "belongings" because of the main root: belong. These possessions will always belong to me, me and him, us. No one can take that away from us, no matter what the circumstance.

Breath, and move on. That is really all I can do.

Friday, June 25, 2010

Time, Pride, and That Dress

"All men should strive
To learn before they die
what they are running from, to, and why."
-James Thurber

Oh how time, pride, and acceptance have entwined, at least in my life. As I mentioned earlier, this past year has been one of self discovery. Let me venture to you my thoughts, after all, I only made this blog to vent. So if this post irritates you, apparently I irritate you also, and so be it. This is my outlet; it These are my feelings and notions. Take it or leave it.

I believe that time has become my impatience, pride has become my weakness, and acceptance is attainable. First, let me explain why time is my impatience. I worry that answers to my troubles will unravel too late; I worry that wating for felicity will be a waste of my time. I am sick of feeling restless with my emotions, but only time will mend my thoughts, which is why time is my impatience. My impatience for a peaceful state of mind; my impatience for strength and happiness. But, I have faith that time will relinquish my impatience. I have faith that time will pave the way to answers. All I know is, everything happens for a reason; everything happens in time.

Now pride. Pride runs deep in my blood, it seems to be genetic. I'd always complain about how prideful my dad was, thinking I would never act in such a way. Turns out, I am possibly worse. After my mom died, I needed inner strength. I think this goal for strength has created a prideful exterior; a prideful exterior of disillusion and immaturity. Now don't get me wrong, pride can be a good thing. But in my case, it was not. I let my pride misguide my responsibilities; I allowed my pride to lead astray the idea that I am always right, but I am not. And thinking about it now, maybe it's a combination of my pride and stubborness that explains who I am today, but I believe it is mostly my pride. I let my pride mislead me to an eery concept, which is the concept that I am not always right; I need to accept it.

Now acceptance. Yesterday, I wore that dress. That dress I last bought with my mom; that dress I wore to my mom's funeral; that dress I had not touched since. I cannot explain what came over me that day. But before I knew it, I went into my mom's closet, took out that dress, and wore it. I stared at the mirror, reflecting on overlapping memories. I stared at the mirror, reflecting on myself in that dress; then realized why I had the impulse to wear it. By wearing that dress, after the numerous months it collected dust, I finally was able to accept what I cannot change. By putting on that dress, I finally accepted my reality. Though, as of right now, I am not too fond of it, I will embrace it. I will embrace my reality by standing tall, even if it all goes wrong.

I will strive
To learn before I die
What I am running from, to, and why,
Which in my case is time, pride, and acceptance.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

William Fitzsimmons

"We'll fall just like stars being hung by only string. Everything, everything here is gone."
-William Fitzsimmons: I Don't Feel It Anymore


If you're reading this, Superman, I think you should introduce yourself to William Fitzsimmons. Get to know him, and I'd like to believe that you may agree with him; I think he has the answers. I really do.

PS- And to everyone else, hang tight. I'm not done just yet.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Chapter Two

"Everything in life is connected somehow. You may have to dig deep to find it but its there. Everything is the same even though its different. Somehow everything connects back with your life. The faces in certain places may be different, but the situation is the same. Irony is a hidden factor that creeps around us in life, letting its presence felt only after it has left. Picture back to a year ago and the situation you were in. Look at how things are different yet somehow everything it still in someway cognate. Everything connects together to form the balance of life, to maintain structure. Change is and always will be inevitable, but everything is relative, and all the moments and times in your life will come back around again, you just might find yourself on the other side of the coin. Things are always changing, as fast as everything stays the same.”
-Unknown


Looks like I'm back. Sorry if you guys missed me, but don't fear, I have so much to say! Most likely,this post will be all over the place. So prepare yourselves. As some of you may know, I took the last two weeks off from writing, because I needed space. I needed to recollect my thoughts. I was caught in a situation, where I lost my identity, in a sense. As I had said in my previous post, everything I had once believed in slapped me in the face. I was wrong about: everything. And that terrified me.

There was this one guy, he was practically Superman to me. I let him save me for awhile; but we're at the end of a chapter. Superman has other people to save. And although, Superman wasn't so super after all; he will always be my first. First love, first kiss, first heartbreak, first everything. He will always be chapter one. But now I'm ready; ready for my first second. And whomever becomes my second, will definitely not be my sloppy second. I know my second will be better for me, he will be chapter two.

I'm starting to realize the idea that relationships correlate with time. There's a time and place for everything. Superman was chapter one, and maybe it's time to move on to a second chapter, chapter two with Batman? :) Or maybe chapter two, I'll fly solo. I don't know where chapter two will take me, but I am ready. I will be stronger than ever.

Chapter two has just begun, and it is already teaching me a significant amount of aspects; aspects of my life. Such as, independence is beautiful, brave, and possible to attain. Such as, acceptance is beautiful, brave, and possible to attain; learning to accept that I deserve the best. Superman gave me the best at one point in my life, yet there's a reason why books are divided into chapters. If a person lived in a single phase his whole life, he would never grow. A book contains chapters, to distinguish a character's development. Superman was chapter one in my book, but Superman won't rescue me forever. My life needed someone new into the equation; my life needs chapter two. Whether chapter two will be filled with hurt, despair, or happiness, or all the above, it is up to me, and only myself, to find out. I am ready. I am ready, with open arms, to take the next step, I'm ready for chapter two.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Where's Miss Independent?



It sucks knowing everything you had ever believed in, was a complete lie. I don't think I'm going to be blogging for a while, but when I do, I'll be s t r o n g e r than ever.



Saturday, May 22, 2010

There this is; there I am.

“Destiny is no matter of chance. It is a matter of choice: it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.”
-William Jennings Bryan

Under the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, destiny is defined as:

1. something to which a person or thing is destined: fortune.
2. a predetermined course of events often held to be an irresistible power or agency.

As the cliche goes, "Everything happens for a reason." That cliche is a motto I live by. It helps me reason where I am today. I always wind up asking myself, in times of turmoil, if "this" is really it; if "this" was God's plan all along. I always wind up pondering about every action I have acted on; and how each step has brought me here. Then I ask, is "this" what I want? What is "this", anyway? Currently, "this" is a seventeen year old girl; a girl who protects her sister, and herself: a girl who misses her mother. "This" is a girl who hides, when she wants to soar. "This" is a girl who wants to embody strength. But is "this" my fate; my destiny?

Fate and destiny can go hand and hand, as much as their differences can stark in comparison. While your fate may be your destiny, don't you, in a way, choose if destiny is your fate? I don't know if I'm making any sense, but I'll try to further explain. If one wants to pursue his dream, who is to say that his dream is his fate? Only one's motivation to his destiny can take him "there". What do I mean by "there"? When I say "there", I mean living what you want "this" to be. When I say "there", I mean the idea of one's "this" and "there" being aligned; to have your fate match up with your destiny. Maybe I sound crazy, but maybe I could be going somewhere with this.

Now I am going to try to prove my idea, my hypothesis, accurate. I will try to live a life I want; so my "this" will be "there" in my future. And if it all goes wrong, I will stand tall, because as the cliche goes, "Everything happens for a reason." And maybe what I believe my destiny is, may not be the one for me. I will have to live "this" life, my life, and find out what "there" is for me.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Parachute

"The summit of happiness is reached when a person is ready to be what he is."
-Erasmus

To be honest, I haven't posted in a while because I am kind of clustered. I don't exactly know where I want to go with this post, but here's the thing. I made my blog to vent, to release every thing. So here is my raw, true, every thing.

I want to be: accepted, beautiful, strong, invincible and free.
But I feel: so small, so invisible, so fragile.

It is these feelings that overwhelm me. It is these feelings that scare me. These feelings, my little wrecks, act as cracks in the pavement; I don't want to stump on these cracks, wrecks, and feelings. Rather, possibly naive of me to say, I want to defeat gravity; and it is, my own gravity, that brings me down. Therefore, I want to fly above my cracks, wrecks, and feelings. I want to parachute into happiness. Yet a parachute, itself, has several parts, pieces, that complete it. To defeat my gravity, my cracks, wrecks, and feelings I need to find these pieces of me. Pieces of inner strength, genuine happiness, and the aspects listed above. It is these pieces that will make me fly.

And as of now, it is my goal, to negate each negative feeling, each negative piece of me. Starting today, I will negate feeling so small, so invisible, and so fragile. I hope to succeed; but more importantly, I hope that I will never have to feel this way again. And I hope my goal can rub off on, inspire, anyone who feels, or have felt, the way I do. Because Erasmus is right; in order to achieve happiness, one must be ready. And I am, absolutely, ready.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Come What May

May is a new month filled with new days, and new experiences. It has only been three days in, and already, it has arised with a bang. May is the last month of Spring, and the month of Mother's Day. This last month of Spring, I'll spend "Spring cleaning". Pun actually intended. But I don't mean the literal definition; well actually, if you know me at all, you know I'm a bit of a neat freak, so I might mean this literally too. But what I also mean is I'll clean away from every thing that has brought me down, which lately has been a lot. I will be strong and true to myself. I think I try too hard to be happy, and I believe that's making me artificial. Starting now: I will let life be, while standing strong and staying true.

Now as I noted earlier, May is also the month of Mother's Day. Since I cannot show my appreciation for my mom physically, I will write to her every day. Sounds crazy, sounds repetious, sounds obsessive? Possibly. But while she was alive, I was selfish and did not even show the littlest of appreciation. And this has affected me ever since she left to be with the angels in Heaven. Yet, maybe coincidentally, the last Mother's Day I was able to spend with her, I actually took the time to make her a gift (I'm telling you, I was a self-conceited brat). But let's get back to the gift. The gift was a video my sister and I made. We each listed what we loved about her, both abstract and concrete points, then afterwards sang "Mama" by the Spice Girls. I remember seeing her cry, and how I tried to hold in my tears. Because seeing her reaction, seeing her tears, made a change in me. It made a change, a realization of not only my ignorance, but also how absent-minded I was. It made me acknowledge that saying "I love you" to your parents isn't just for little kids. It is definitely not childish nor embarassing. It is, simply, love. It means some thing, no matter what age you say it or whom you say it to. And although I was ignorant, that is my past. And nothing's like the present.

And the present is May, filled with new days, and new experiences. And I will embrace this new month by displaying my appreciation for my Mom. Just because she isn't physically here, doesn't necessarily mean it is too late. Just because she isn't physically here, doesn't change the fact that she is still my mom. A woman who inspires me every day. A woman who believes in me. The woman I want to be just like some day. A dreamer, a believer, a joker, a freaking rock star. My mom.


Forever rest in peace ♥
June 27, 2007

"She never quite leaves her children at home, even when she doesn't take them along."
-Margaret Culkin Banning

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Roses

"Where flowers bloom so does hope."
-Lady Bird Johnson (Public Roads: Where Flowers Bloom)

So far living life at seventeen can be described in two words:

self discovery

I find that every day I learn some thing new, some thing inspiring, some thing significant, some thing permanent. A while ago my friend's mom did just that. She gave me new, inspiring, significant, and permanent advice. Her words have stuck onto me ever since they were said. She told me how God gives each person a vase with roses. The vase is your heart, and the roses are your friends. You place these roses in your vase, knowing some will fade. With roses that fade, come brighter ones. Then there are the roses that eternally bloom. These roses won't ever fade, and we have to be thankful for them. I know who these eternally bloomed roses symbolize, and they make me stronger every day. And for the roses that fade, they are a part of my life I can't return. But they are also a part of my life I will never forget.

Speaking of roses, yesterday my dad and I were discussing my 18th birthday. It is, infamous, Filipino tradition for a girl to throw a cotillion; a coming-out party (I can't spell the official term, but it sounds like "dibu"). As we were talking about it, he told me about a traditional dance known as the 18 Roses Dance. This is a dance where I dance with 18 boys, who each give me a rose. I don't know exactly what the rose represents. Yet after the advice I received, I would assume these roses represent one's friendship. I'll have to research the true origin to the dance, so when I find out I'll keep you updated! Or if you happen to know, feel free to tell me, because I would love to hear about it.

On a different note, I attended my first prom last Friday. I came in confident, trying to move past my personal issues, and it surely worked. I had the time of my life, and I'm so glad I got to share the experience with my boyfriend, Patrick. I swear, he makes me fly. He inspires me everyday, and I'm glad he's a rose to my vase. Yikes. I'm pretty sure I just destroyed the rose metaphor, considering how cheesy this is becoming. So I'll stop now before I make you guys puke. But I hope the insight I shared can impact you as much as it has impacted me. That's what this blog is all about. Quoting my banner, and Anne Frank, "We all live with the objective of being happy; our lives are all different and yet the same." I hope my posts can relate, and interest others. I hope my posts can inspire some thing new, some thing inspiring, some thing significant, and some thing permanent.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

True Friends

"What is a friend? It is a soul dwelling in two bodies."
-Aristotle

Second post of the day? Ha, talk about a record. Hopefully I'm not boring you guys. Since this is my third post, I'll make this one short and sweet. Why I needed to post for a second time? Because I don't have a life? Well, not entirely. Today something huge has occurred to me; what occurred has truly impacted me. Not to be over-dramatic or anything, but I know I'll never forget what happened. Even though this is my third post today, I need to rant. After-all, that's what inspired me start this blog. If your sick of me, I can't say I blame you. But if you are sick of me, stop reading this blog, because I can guarantee my classic rants will never end.

I discussed relationships in an earlier post, and the subject is about to be brought up into perspective once more. I can say now, that this won't be the last time you'll hear about my stances toward relationships, because I, personally, believe relationships build character. Relationships have taught me who I am, and who I want to become. I remember how I'd keep typing "realationship", instead of "relationship", and the significance of the root "real". In order to have a functional relationship, one has to stay true to themselves; one has to be real. If a person isn't real, in a relationship, that's a start to a bumpy friendship. And guess what? That's exactly what happened to me. I won't get into detail, because this is a very typical situation. I am sure it has happened to everyone at one point; though I really hope it hasn't happened to too many people. I'll leave it at this: today I learned who my true friends are; I'm so lucky to have them.

PS- The quote I used, in this post, is a personal favorite; it is a quote that has stuck to me, ever since I first heard it. Not to be Captain Obvious or anything, but Aristotle is seriously one smart guy.

What's Gucci?

"How do you achieve success? Well, for one thing, you don't define it before you achieve it." -Robert Brault

As you can see, that is me pointing to the sign that reads: Department of Music. Yes, I know I'm a dork. I've accepted that a long time ago. Anyways if you're wondering where this sign is located, I can easily answer that question. It's located in my dream school,which is William and Mary. Why was I even there? Two words: Spring Break. And I'm loving every minute of it. I spent the first three days visiting ODU, William and Mary, and VCU. I traveled with my cousins, who are the only people who could explain/answer the title of this post. Personally, I had an amazing time. Yet I can't believe Spring Break is almost over, but I'll try not to look at it with the glass half empty. I can look at it, with the glass half full, by working on William and Mary. I highly, highly doubt I will be accepted. But unlike my AP Lang teacher, I have faith in myself. I'll never know until I try. There are numerous reasons why I'm in love with William and Mary but the main reason: I can actually see myself going there. The idea of going to college has always seemed unreal to me, even scary. What's even more scary is that I'll be going to college soon...as in a little over a year. What? If I don't make it in I know one thing, I have to, have to stay in-state. Though the typical teenager would rebel and transfer as far as possible there's one person stopping me. My sister. I could never leave her. My mom trusts that I can, and will, watch over her. I just hope I can also be someone she can look up to, someone like Mom.

While I was at the college tours I noticed most of the kids there were with at least one of their parents, the majority of the parents were mothers. As I was at the tour with my cousins, I felt strong. Although my mom cannot physically be there to search for colleges with me, she's watching over me. Knowing that, I know everything will be okay. Even if William and Mary doesn't work out, even if it all goes wrong. I trust myself to trust her and trust what ever happens. I'll never be as ready as I am now.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Perfection

"The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself."
-Anna Quindlen

Two days ago I wrote to my mom. I told her about how, although I've been down, things have been improving. As I wrote to her, I was in search of the origin to my happiness (if that makes any sense). Then it occurred to me; while I was writing a train of thoughts, the train took a halt. I wasn't happy because my expectations weren't catching up to my reality. My happiness, basically, requires perfection. You could say that idea is extremely pressuring, and dramatic, but then again what is perfection? I keep trying to attain "it", whatever "it" may be, but I think that's near to impossible. Does perfection even exist? I guess in a sense "it" has to. Though perfection may arise as a formulated opinion, an opinion is still a thought, "it" is still something. So logically, perfection does exist. Since "it" exists, then there has to be a way I can attain "it". Right? Well again, I guess attaining "it" would vary based on one's idea of perfection; and personally, my definition of perfection isn't exactly realistic.

Now the people stuck in the halted train can sing, and rejoice, because the train is fixed, and is in motion once again. Okay, I realize my metaphor sounds ridiculous, maybe it is, actually it definitely is. Okay, I'll drop it. The point I'm trying to come across is that now I have discovered my problem, I can fix it. My definition of perfection is definitely not realistic. Though I like to believe it is, truthfully it is not. Therefore, why should I kill myself over perfection, over living "it"? I'm going to stop trying so hard to make everything perfect. That will be my new "it". Maybe "it" will work, maybe "it" won't. I won't know until I find out.

Hopefully, I didn't sound like a complete lunatic with this post. Hopefully, I sounded somewhat sane. Hopefully, this made an impact on you. And hopefully, I didn't waste your time, and you'll want to keep reading for more.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

The Luck of the Irish? Or Maybe Just Me...

“Faith is the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted in spite of your changing moods.”
-C.S. Lewis

Before I begin to rant, like always, I need to get something out of the way. Well two things:

  • One- Happy St. Patrick's Day! Hope everyone had a good one! And to a particular someone, I know this is practically your holiday, and I hope nothing got in the way of that.
  • And two-In my last post I mentioned how this week was suppose to change everything. Well that event is apparently on hold. But really? Can you do that? I mean, technically yes. And with my luck, it's no surprise that this would only happen to me. And when will this event come about? Who knows anymore.

I'd say I'd lose faith on the whole situation, but faith is one thing that keeps me strong. In fact, faith is what this post is all about.


I'll try not to sound so naive and childish, but i'll be blunt: I'm pissed off. Yet inspired? It all started on Monday, when I hit my lowest low. My AP Lang teacher told me to switch out of her class. What? No joke. Normally the situation plays vice-versa, but let's get real. It's me. Only these ironic, unfortunate events could happen to me. I hope I don't sound conceited or selfish by that statement; trust me, I dislike these events; you can have them! At first I was furious with anger and frustration. How could a teacher tell me that I'm not smart enough to pass her class? Shouldn't a teacher praise effort and commend support. Nope. Not my AP Lang teacher. I'm not mad at her. It's not her fault that she sees no faith in me, that's how she feels. She sees no faith. And in my head, as she was talking, the words "no faith" kept orbiting my mind, practically hypnotizing me into bitterness. Then I realized, faith is meant to be held on to.

In 8th grade, I picked the confirmation name Hope, because I explained how hope is the one thing no person should ever lose. That's when it hit me. One: I actually learned something in 8th grade; and two: I can actually apply it to real life. Why should I let my teacher's vision of me be proved true? Anything is possible. And I will prove to her, and myself, that I have more potential. I have hope; faith. I believe in myself. And though my teacher doesn't, that is all a person could ask for.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Who Do You Think You Are, Hannah Montana?

"Fly high, what's real can't die."
-New Radicals

Just a fair warning: this post will be all over the place.

Let me start with what's bugging me, cause I'm a teenage girl, therefore I'm obligated complain all the time. Right? Right. This week will either make me or break me. I realize how corny that sounds, but this week will change everything. This week a decision will be made, a close-ended decision. I've never been so nervous. I would explain what this decision is but I can't. It'll make me vulnerable, and I can't do that. I have to keep my guard up; I'm sick of getting hurt. I trust that God will guide me to what is best, whether or not it makes me happy. I trust Him, but I'm still scared. But like I said in my first post, I'll stand tall even if it all goes wrong.

Now rain. I love the rain. I hate having a cold, but I love this spring rain, especially loved yesterday's fall. I can't explain why, but there's someone that knows why :) I'm sorry I'm being so vague, but suspense never hurt anyone. I also love rain because, in a sense, I feel as if it's Heaven's way of communicating. I don't mean to be all spiritual-voodoo on you guys
(and yes that is the actual spelling) , but the rain is kind of a gateway to my mom. I would do anything to see her presence again. Photos don't cut it anymore. A photo contains a million words, yet it doesn't contain her soul. What keeps me from her soul is reality and Heaven, and the distance kills me sometimes. This week I especially need her.

I actually had a dream about her, yet I can't remember what she said. All I can remember is it was me, her, and my dad. We were laughing; we were happy. My grandma always told me that one day my mom will communicate with me through my dreams, yet I can't remember what she said. Yet maybe simple happiness was her message, maybe it was her way of saying we will be happy (by we I mean my family). I won't give up on trying to recall what she said to me, but for right now I will work with that as her message.

Since this is getting long I'll try to cut it short. You might be wondering what the significance of the title of this post is. If that makes any sense? All I'm going to say is watch She's Out of My League. You'll get it then, and I promise it will be worth watching.

And one more thing! I decided that before I die I want to visit Martin's Point plantation. It's the beautiful house from The Notebook, my all time favorite movie. And if you don't like that movie hear me out. The house is beautiful, at least give the movie that much credit. I was reading an old Time article about The Notebook and that's when I discovered the location of the house. If you get the chance, check out the photos! They're simply amazing.

Well I'll leave it at that. I'll tell you how this week turns out; I just hope it will be something to celebrate about. If you have any comments just post them, message me, or even tell me in person :)

Friday, February 26, 2010

Relationships

"All families are embarrassing. And if they're not embarrassing, then they're dead. "
-Kitty (That 70's Show)

Hi there :)
I'd sum up this week as: chaotic, brawling, unpredictable, just one hot mess! I technically still haven't had a full 5 day school week, and if it weren't for the events that occurred, I'd be cheering for joy.

Third Quarter Burn Out. Junior Year. 2010. It's official. I'm dying, but that's a bit melodramatic. The whole idea of college freaks me out. Actually, I'll be experiencing the whole living-on-your-own, growing up, responsibility thing (that would typically appear on a Full House episode) cause Dad is heading to Vegas for a business trip. And don't get me wrong, I love Full House! But do the math: Dad's trip=FREEDOM. But if any parents are reading this, take a breather. I'm not playing the full parental card alone; my aunt is staying with me and my sister. Now granted I will have a lot more responsibility over the next few days; granted a lot will happen over the next few days; and if this burn out doesn't kill me, granted you'll here about everything that went on.

So I decided this post should be about relationships. No specifics. I'm talking about the whole gang: the boyfriend, the best friend, the family. Everyone. This week my relationship with my best friend and my family were greatly affected. Just like any pair of best friends, my best friend and I go back, and no matter how bad it got, in the end she was there. She's helped me stand tall, even when I felt small. No pun intended. Here's the funny thing, she's the kind of person who you can't be mad at. Sure, it may happen, and you may say,"Oh, but this time she went over the line..." ect. But give it 3 minutes...and you'll feel like an idiot for blowing up. At least I did. She can somehow deal with my insanity, and that's why I love her.

Now family. It's easily said that the 1950's cliche of a family has been stripped down, and replaced with the 21st century family, filled with anguish, complications, not exactly a picture perfect Hallmark card. But that's life, and in a sense I find that the worst situations ignite into something beautiful. Personally, I've discovered that it's the worst situations that link my family and me closer. Family being close? Ha, yeah right. But in all seriousness, families are suppose to stick together. Family will always love you. What more could we ask for?

So the reason why I was out for two days this week? I had a rough patch, also known as anxiety. What can I say? If you know my family, you know it runs deep in our blood. Our unusual, quirky, weird Filipino blood. And I would be frustrated about that, but anxiety proves I'm part of my family. I'm so lucky. And that's what I have to say about relationships.

Scratch that.

Actually, when I first posted this I spelled relationships wrong, I spelled it "realationships". As I was about to fix my typo I realized a distinct word stuck out to me, real. Relationships are real, in order to have a successful relationship one needs to be true, real.

And there you go.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Get To Know Me :)

"I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you:
hear you, hear me---we two---you, me, talk on this page."
-Langston Hughes: Theme for English B

I'm still getting adjusted to the idea of having a blog. I find it very neat! I hope to get personal with followers, and anyone who comes across this blog. Here I'm posting a poem I wrote back in September for school. I got an 100 on it, so I am hoping that means it's decent! I'd love to share a few insights that I've thought about, but unfortunately homework and school is first priority. This mountain load of work better be worthwhile in the end!

I promise I'll try to post more frequently, but for right now you can read my poem. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope it helps you get to know me a little more. If you have any comments or suggestions feel free to comment me or message me! I would love to hear any input.

THEME FOR ENGLISH B (Rewrite)
True is defined as “being in accordance with the actual state of affairs.”
In this poem, you will be in accordance with my actual state of affairs.

I am *sixteen years old, and learning more and more each day.
I was raised Catholic, believing a single man changed my life.
I do believe in an all mighty God,
yet I won’t say He’s the only person who has changed the way I live today.
And if you were wondering,
my name is Daniella Marie DaCosta Cajayon;
But for your sake, call me Ella.


I was born in the tropical islands of the Philippines, ironically a land I barely know about,
because though born on an island, I grew up in a small, quaint town known as Oakton.
In this town of many families, I have a family I can call my own.
These people taught me
what love is all about.
Growing up, I lived with a dad, a mom, a little sister, and a grandmother,
yet I hadn’t grown up until two years ago,
When my mom joined the angels in heaven.

I’m not athletic, and I am as flexible as a twig.
Therefore I can’t tell you what sport I play for my school,
yet I can tell you that I participate in my school’s choir.
If there were one thing that came naturally to me that would be singing.
Singing came to me before I could walk, or talk for that matter.
When I sing, I sing through a tunnel of emotions,
Whether joyful or gloomy, by the end of a song I reach the end of the tunnel.
Though I can’t say singing gives me answers to life,
I can admit it is a hobby-created outlet.

My mom never placed me on a conveyer belt to her unfulfilled dreams,
she simply placed me on a conveyer belt to mine.
She believed anything and everything is possible, even if the sciences say otherwise.
And I judge that as of right now I could have been an entirely different person.
I could have been the girl forced to become the next Mia Hamm, when she wanted to become the next Annie Leibovitz.
But I’m just the girl who wants to sing, and for my Mom that’s just enough.

And I can easily say that without her, this poem wouldn’t have
the same lines, the same words, the same dream.
Without her, I wouldn’t be who I am today, which is myself.


*Since this was written last year obviously I'm not sixteen anymore, haha :)

Friday, February 12, 2010

Who Am I Anyway

"Take these broken wings and learn to fly."
-Paul McCartney

I'm Ella, seventeen and alive.
I wouldn't say that's my full definition, but it's a start. I'm just a kid, and I make mistakes. No one's perfect right? Yet it is always known to me, toward me. Always reminded. Not to be selfish or anything.

Well here I am making this blog. I'll be totally blunt, I'm going to rant a lot. I may have readers, and I may have none. I may sound absolutely naive and I may be annoying. But here's the thing, everyone needs an outlet and here's mine.

I'm Ella, I'm a songwriter and a dreamer.
I would love to go somewhere with singing, and as seen in American Idol, that dream is aspired by many. My mom never put me on a conveyor belt to her dreams, but mine. She let me be, and two years ago she joined the angels in Heaven. Her free spirited outlook has lingered on; a personality like her's will easily live on forever. I will admit: I get angry. A teenage girl deserves her mom, right? But she is in a better place now, and that is no line. I really am happy for her. It's difficult to think about but I will stand strong in the end, even if it all goes wrong.

I'm Ella, and this is my blog :)