My Two Cents

"Money often costs too much."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Everyone has quirks. The best part about quirks are that they are impossible to measure because their weight is priceless. One of my quirks is that I have something I like to call quarter bets. All a quarter bet consists of is exactly what it sounds like; it is simply the act of proving a two-sided hypothesis with the sole worth of risking all the odds on a quarter. I never really took the time to consider why these bets were my thing, until I made a particular bet which made me realize that some things are impossible to pay back.

Maybe the reason why the concept of quarter bets are so significant to me is because it is taking spoken words and giving them value. By amounting our words, you would think that we would speak more carefully. But what I have discovered is that although a quarter's equivalence can be divided in several ways, when it comes down to it, some things really are impossible to pay back, even if it is just a quarter.

Which is all it is, just another quarter bet. Although it is such a minuscule moment, what I had failed to recognize is the price of how much that minuscule moment would cost me. We can label what is expensive versus cheap. Likewise, we hand-pick our budget compromising what is and is not worth paying for. 

When I gave up my quarter, I later found out that it was left on a table. While some battles should be left on the table because they are worth all the money in the world, others are just not worth the profit and should only collect dust amounting to nothing more than the worth of what it truly is. The quarter is left on his desk without a fight.

My two cents on this quarter bet is that some things are a little too late to pay back.

However, my million dollar idea that not a single quarter bet could ever afford is realizing the amount of my two cents = $ Priceless.

My Knight in Shining Cement

“...and that visibility which makes us most vulnerable is that which also is the source of our greatest strength.”  

-Audre Lorde
 
It is like marking your hand print on wet cement on the sidewalk. I have found myself caught in a train wreck kind of predicament, in which I am caught under this immense battle I was completely oblivious and unaware that I was even tackling.  

The thing about cement is that it is a layer of stability. It paves the sidewalks acting as a foundation protecting the ground people walk on to get to where they need to be and back. It is sturdy enough to carry the weight placed upon it.

Just like cement, my skin is a layer of stability. It paves my vulnerability acting as a foundation protecting the heart that I constantly worry people could walk on in order to get where they need to be and back. However, while cement is sturdy enough to carry the weight placed upon it, cement has the ability to crack. 

That is just it. 

People have found ways to slip through the cracks and under my skin, my skin that I thought was as groundbreaking as steel. And while that realization haunts me, I have acknowledged that rather than wearing skin of steel, I wear an armor made of cement. When it comes down to it, maybe the mere ability for one to be able to have the strength to slip through the cracks in the cement, the ability to get under my skin, maybe that is what makes relationships worth holding onto.  

Therefore, my conclusion to this battle is not the arrival of my knight in shining armor, but rather embracing the knight in shining cement that I wear every single day. My skin is thick, but my heart is thicker and maybe it is okay if people slip through the cracks of my skin that I have paved and find that out for themselves. After all, by wearing the knight in shining cement all it takes is repaving the sidewalks to smooth the cracks. 

I do not need a hero to get me out of this train wreck of a predicament. Adapting my cracked skin that faces the chances of people walking on it, in order to get to where they need to be and back, and the markings of hand prints on wet cement and on my heart, that is the hero in itself: my knight in shining cement.

Balloons like Laughter, Mother like Daughter

I wrote this paper a little over a year ago and I think I am finally ready to share it.

      xx Ella Marie Cajayon

Balloons Like Laughter, Mother Like Daughter

            As light as balloons, colorfully floating, perpendicular and out of tune, that is the universally renowned sound of what could only be: laughter. That is what I hear when I recall this day.  Laughter cued from America’s Funniest Home Videos; laughter cued from my sister, Anica, my mother, and I. There we were. Dressed in our pajamas, pastel and soft to the touch, warming up our skin and our souls, cuddling side-by-side in a blanket. There we were. 

At this very moment I thought to myself, this is what a mother-daughter relationship should feel like.  Ordinarily, I believed I was as almighty as the queen of England. I was fourteen, independent, and the queen of England, and I did not need my mom. Before this moment, space had been growing between us. 

            I was on my parents’ computer playing around on MySpace, secluding myself to my own little world where I was untouchable. As the queen of England would remove her crown, I removed my headphones; I had snapped back to reality. While I got up, my mom asked me if I would like to stay with her and stick around for a little longer. Little did I know, this request would stick around for a lot longer than I had ever expected. There we were.

            But here I was, falling for her proposal to spend quality time with her teenage daughter. Her proposal won me over with her smile, that is, the smile I inherited from her. Looking back, she must have known that her smile would nail it; she must have known it would comply me to fall awry in doing things for her. Why I’d figure so? Like mother like daughter, we share that winning smile. That’s just it. No matter how deeply I let my mom in, she naturally knew me and I naturally knew her. No matter how measurable our bond was, whether as tight-knit as Lorelai and Rory on Gilmore Girls, or as distant as Earth and Pluto, we were still mother and daughter. Hence, like mother like daughter, there we were.

“- it’s all that matters”

I sat next to her on her bed, feeling reluctant, foreign and unusual. Without hesitation she adjusted the blanket and without hesitation, my sister, Anica, and I snuggled inside. Lying side by side, I could smell her. In fact, to this day I can still smell her and the entirety of her room. Her scent unreachable, intangible, but I will leave it at a distinct sweetness. 

---------

Last time I can recall a time when I had not felt reluctant, foreign and unusual to the thought of spending time with my mom, ironically enough, held a similar setting. My mom was expecting a girl the following winter, which consequently led us to browsing through a baby name book. On the first page displayed the A’s and each name was decorated with pink glitter letters. With each name we read, the idea of one of those names actually portraying a future being, a future sister, seemed impossible to imagine. However, the light bulb lit up for both of us when we came across the pink glitter letters that read the name: Anica.

           ---------

I was 7 years old when Anica was born; Anica was 7 years old when this all occurred. All being the three of us, together. 

Anica was on the edge of bed, which resolved to my mom entertainingly distorting her face and cracking jokes about Anica falling off the bed. While joking around, my dog, Jack, was sleeping on the floor by the bed. As the laughter amplified, due to my mom’s joke overlapping America’s Funniest Home Videos, it was no surprise that the infamous Jack awoke. There we were.

I must say, if a video camera had recorded this very moment, I would have easily submitted it to America’s Funniest Home Videos. That moment right there was truly a sight to see. 

“- to be happy”

            As light as balloons, the laughter colorfully afloat, perpendicular and out of tune, took off and landed. There we were. Dressed in our pajamas, pastel and soft to the touch, warming up our skin and our souls, cuddling side-by-side in a blanket. And as I stood up and got off the bed to leave, my mom, without hesitation, spoke from across the room, “Goodnight Ella, I love you.” And I turned around, smiled to myself with the same winning smile as my mom, and replied that I love her too. There we were.

At this very moment, even the queen of England thought to herself that this is what a mother-daughter relationship should feel like.  

The next day a package arrived on my front doorstep. In the package held a book. In the book held this:

This book was a surprise graduation gift from my mom. This book arrived the day my mom passed away.

“- to enjoy your life”

These words assure me that it will always be like mother like daughter, because these words assure me that like mother like daughter we will always be.

Tug-a-War

" I look for ghosts; but none will force 

Their way to me. 'Tis falsely said 

That there was ever intercourse 

Between the living and the dead." 

-William Wordsworth

Last weekend marked Halloween weekend 2012, leaving me with the irony that protrudes along with my halloweekend. There he was, the ghost of my past who hauntingly reappeared in my life. The only thing more haunting about his re-occurrence has to be my conclusion about his presence in the first place. However, this ghost of my past is now someone who I can finally see right through. His tricks and schemes of toiling with my emotions back and forth may of had me fooled for a little while, but now the only thing more scary than his presence is watching him vanish away into thin air.

One minute he would have my back helping pull the rope behind me, and then the next minute, he would be right in front of me fighting to pull the rope away from my very own hands, contradicting himself and everything that kept the rope together in the first place. He would reassure me and then he would disappear causing me to lose any sense of control I thought I had. It was just so easy and yet so frightening how I felt trapped to hold on to that rope knowing everything that rope symbolized. The words he said and the actions he pursued revoltingly evolved into inverses of each other leaving me wondering what was real versus my imagination.

However the thing about ghosts are that they are souls who have passed, emphasizing that they are in the past. Therefore, I think it is up to me whether this ghost is real or in my head, whether this ghost is alive or dead. My resolution is that whether the ghost of my past tries to trick or treat me, he shall remain under the tomb of all our memories because I refuse to allow his tricks to scare or fool me any longer.

Games over, I am dropping the rope.

The Nice Guy Theory

We are all just a bag of bones, bones aligned as an internal structure protecting one of the most fragile parts of all: our heart. All hearts carry the same function. They beat. All bones hold the same strength. They have the capability to break. So consequently, what sets aside the adverse differences between the good guys and the "bad" ones?

Nice guys never win. I cannot stand how frequently that has been proclaimed and how many numerous people believe that proclamation.

But here's my theory.

There is no such thing as nice guys and bad guys. I fully believe all humanity has the ability to hold goodness, which solely relies on approach. The thing about the "nice guys" is that they are so incredibly brave. They express their emotions, by throwing their vulnerability to the wind, in a wrestling ring where many possible tactics are fair game allowing the potential of damage. In comparison, these "bad guys" are the furthest thing from bad at all. Maybe they are simply numb. Maybe their emotions were defeated, by tactics that were far from fair game, in a wrestling ring that caused severe damage leaving them with broken bones, broken vulnerability, and possibly even a broken heart.

I can only hope that the wrestling ring does not permanently affect how one feels once the battles are said and done. Regardless of the results on the scoreboard, these guys do not need to attain a gold medal in order to win.

To conclude my theory, we are all just a bag of bones, bones aligned as an internal structure protecting everything we are: our hearts. Hence the words on the top of my blog and the words that created my blog in the first place,

"We all live with the objective of being happy, our lives are all different and yet the same."

-Anne Frank

Fall into Autumn

"I paint flowers so they will not die."

-Frida Kahlo

Autumn has to be my favorite season. It literally marks summer's fall and reminds us that change is inevitable and that the world forever spins round. Sometimes I think people are naturally scared of new beginnings because they are scared of letting go. But interestingly enough, what I am realizing is that how I feel about autumn is a parallel reminder to how I feel about writing and relationships.

Although autumn connotes as a change of temperature and wardrobe, I know it is much beyond that. As it gets colder, we wear thicker layers. I can still wear that tank top from the summer by adding on a scarf and a sweater. The addition of clothes does not take away from the tank top itself, rather, it emphasizes the beauty of layers. With time, I will throw more clothes on my back. My layers will only grow thicker, but my foundation will remain the same. Timeless.

Like autumn and any other season, our thoughts cycle throughout our everyday lives; they repeatedly come and go. Moments transpire into memories becoming tangible within a blink of an eye. Temperatures change and wardrobes change, but it is not a process of throwing out the old and disregarding the past. Instead, it is the process of our fated change solely relying on our permanence, allowing anything and everything anew.

Hence, why I adore and started writing in the first place. The way I see it, my writing is a canvas painting my view of the world. My thoughts, my words, whether minuscule at that moment or not, can be captured, illustrating how I felt at that very moment in my life. My thoughts, my words, which may evolve into memories, will layer onto wherever fate may take me. My words forever an artifact. 

So where there is change, there is permanence, which is why autumn is my favorite season. The colors of the leaves may change and the faces that occur in my life may differ as well, but the heat of the summer and the ghosts of the past are simply layers that have brought me to fall into autumn.

Fourteen

"Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia."

-John Green

Fourteen is a measurement defined by a number marking a moment on a timeline.

Fourteen could be the end of middle school and the beginning of high school. Fourteen could be a truth or dare first kiss, or a first attended boy-girl party. Fourteen could be singing into your hair brush to the Jonas Brothers. Fourteen could be whatever you allow.

Fourteen measures a defining number, as it has marked a moment on my timeline that I cannot help but wonder if I ever left.

I have a giant white board calendar hanging on my wall labeled with moments inked and crossed off in jet black expo marker. At the end of every day, I cross off another day and allow time to continue ticking. I was fourteen five years ago, and while middle school and high school are over, and while I can cross off having my first kiss and attending my first boy-girl party, and lastly and without hesitation, while I can cross off singing into my hair brush to the Jonas Brothers, I cannot help but wonder if at five years later, I am still where I was at when I was fourteen. Because for me, fourteen measures beyond just a defining number as it marks an immense moment of my life, which has possibly tainted how the rest of my timeline races.

Last week, I had a dream that I was in a white space surrounded by nothing and no one else but my parents who were linked together hand-in-hand with me in the middle. They were in their late 20's and I was maybe no older than two. There I was in a white space surrounded by nothing and no one else but the three of us. While the dream is a bit hazy, I distinctly remember my mom looking down at the two year old version of myself and then looking back at present-day me and smiling. There I was at my present staring at my past.

My grandma once proclaimed that the souls of your loved ones whom have passed away can communicate with you through your dreams. That was the first dream I have ever had with my mom in it since she passed away.

As I continually analyze that dream, a steady conclusion I arrive to is that my mom wants me to reflect on how far I have made it since the very beginning. While I look back, I see how many lightyears away I have grown since my middle school, high school, truth-or-dare first kiss, first boy-girl party, and Grammy award-winning hair brush Jonas Brothers singing days.

And then I remember being fourteen, which measures a defining number that marked a moment on my timeline that I cannot help but wonder if I ever left.

But it is five years later down the road on my timeline. And with my giant white board calendar hanging on my wall labeled with moments inked and crossed off in jet black expo marker, I will continue to cross off another day at the end of every day, and allow time to continue ticking.

Back to School

"They say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself."

-Andy Warhol

Waking up to an alarm, ink on the edges of my palms, it is officially that time of the year: back to school. This year however, I hold on to a new task beyond a student as I now work as a resident assistant for my university! Change has always been something that I have embraced and feared. Yet while I equipped to face the new challenges I imagined I would endure, I found something far more fearful than change, in fact it is quite literally the opposite: stagnation.

It is as if I am back at recess standing on the playground in amazement of every option laid out in front of my very own eyes. For me, it is imperative that everything is visual and in my sight. Whether or not I should label that as a flaw or not, I must have every decision open and available for consideration. And while that may seem a bit excessive, I am starting to believe that maybe that is the beauty of the choices that we face.

Recently I have found myself in a very familiar and elementary situation, which would be conquering the school bully. The thing about a bully is that they are so engulfed in their insecurities to the point of allowing their pride and identity to be immensely affected. Although I am not threatened to hand over my lunch money to someone towering over me, I must remind myself that I cannot allow defeating, cold words or actions get the best of me.

It is like the process of elimination, each encounter presented our way will have several choices. They may not be as crystal clear as A, B, C, D, or all of the above, but when it comes down to it, you will eventually select your answer and discover if it is right or wrong. When it comes down to it, you will be faced with a 50/50 shot of handling a situation and if you believe you drew the wrong answer, do not hesitate reading between the lines of red ink. When it comes down to it, you may find yourself believing you drew the wrong fate, but scratch that mentality and read the red ink that lies between the lines and learn your lesson.

Maybe that really is the beauty of the choices that we face. Like the process of elimination, the "right" answer is always present and in front of you. It is simply just a matter of eliminating the obvious, questioning and exploring the vague, and grasping every reason why.

I may not have recess anymore, but as I am conquering my fears of embracing change, I am also conquering stagnation. However, I must realize that some things will never change. Waking up to an alarm, ink on the edges of my palms, it is officially that time of the year: back to school.

Check

“Give, and it shall be given to you. For whatever measure you deal out to others, it will be dealt to you in return.”

-Luke 6:38

I am such a list girl. With absolutely everything I do, I am naturally inclined to weigh the pros and cons because it is my way of controlling the world around me. Hence, I am such a control freak. With absolutely everything I fear, I am naturally inclined to avoid the unknown out of security. But if there is one thing I have learned this summer, it is to take those two characteristics about me, embrace them, and then let them go. If there is one thing I have learned this summer, it is to take these memories, embrace them, and then let them go as well.

Kind of like relationships? Check.

I feel like humans, out of instinct, envision the bigger picture of the puzzle before they dissect the pieces involved in creating the full canvas. And I feel like maybe that is where we are at fault. Throughout this entire summer, there were definitely days I would nag about dying over boredom. Yet as my summer is winding down, I look back and realize it is the pieces of the puzzle that create the picture, not only the puzzle itself. As my summer is winding down, I look back and realize it is each and every singular memory that define my summer, not only the summer as a whole. Kind of like relationships?

Rode and survived my first roller coaster? Check.

And like my first roller coaster, I realize that you can have the same exact moment with someone while you're going up and down the drop and yet have those two moments play out as the complete inverse of each other. If I had let my fears define my experience with roller coasters, then it would not have exactly fallen under the criterion of pleasant. If we let the bad memories of our relationships define the relationship as a whole, then it would not have exactly fallen under the criterion of a pleasant story to tell.

So there solves the puzzle to my summer and how I feel about relationships. Sort out the pieces separately, before you decipher its entirety as a whole. Maybe then you will dare to see the puzzle without a single spot tainted; maybe then we can truly look at the big picture.

• Donating to locks of love by cutting off 10 inches of my hair, check.
• Taking the Mega Bus for the first time, check.
• Going to my first baseball game, check.
• Having a new cell phone number since my first cell number from 7th grade, check.
• Peeing in the ocean for the first time, not ashamed at all and check.
• Learning some self-defense skills at 5AM, check.
• Facing my fear of heights, check.
• Going to an i-MAX theater for the first time, check.
• Bought my first pair of Steve Madden shoes, yes it really is worth listing and check.
• Doing things that can only be justified when you are still a teenager (so vague, but I'm trying not to get in trouble...), CHECK!
• Doing things that I would have never imagined I would do (also super vague, but at least I'm mysterious?), check!
• Allowing myself to be vulnerable, check.

Embrace and then let go.

Summer 2012? Check.

Post-War

"I think the day you start building the war plan is the day you start beginning the postwar plan."

-Jay Garner

There it was, my fighting words I used to recite like bullets were finally said and done. And then, silence; I was speechless because everything was truly said and done. That is just it. The toughest part of a battle is not the bloodbath but rather the aftermath.

The thing about the bloodbath is that you are caught in the heat of the moment with a rush of adrenaline that must be met. Everything you fight for and believe in is laid on the table. The thing about the aftermath is that although the war is over, the real battle is conquering what remains. Although the battles during the war were said and done, the monsters we fought, whether won against or defeated, are still present.

It is inevitable that every battle must reach it's end, within every war is a post-war. Therefore these moments of war are only temporary; however these moments of post-war, these are the moments that linger on like tattoos inked into our memories.

So there it is, the inevitable; but that is just it. Although these monsters are inevitable, they are also inevitably just as harmless and imaginary as the ones under our beds, in our closets, and in our heads. We taunt ourselves with these monsters that we create with our own two hands, who solely survive on everything we are in fear of, everything that is left unfinished and unsaid.

The post-war is all about remembering the inevitable and remembering that these monsters are only as scary as we allow. Therefore these moments of war that I have with relationships are only temporary, however these moments of post-war that I have with relationships, those are moments that linger on like tattoos. I choose what I am allowing to ink into my memories.

The Queen of Pretend

“There's a difference between playing and playing games. The former is an act of joy, the latter — an act.”

-Vera Nazarian

The idea of pretending seems to be a generally-universal concept that we experiment with when we are young. With being young, one feels limitations. Hence the act of pretending is this idea that we can transport ourselves into our own little world that our imagination invents and where it desires to pioneer and explore. It is this idea that we can be anything we want in a matter of seconds. That is the beauty of pretending, we can get away from the real world for a little while and be whatever pops into our mind. However the flaw, or rather the truth behind pretending is knowing that no matter how deep we fall into the rabbit hole of our imaginations, we will eventually have to step out of the wardrobes of our own Narnia's and accept and return to the real world, which is the act of accepting and the returning to ourselves.

To pretend is to select perspective; to pretend is to devise what you see. As a kid, I was the queen of pretending. Pretending was a crown I wore as it was a game I played. However my mastery of pretending fell short when I realized that the mere concept should remain a game and nothing more. With beauty there is perspective, and just like that my perspective of beauty within my status of being the royal highness of pretending was in fact my flaw. No matter how long I wore my crown and no matter who I pretended to rule, the real threat and end to my reign would be the inevitable of snapping back to reality. As much as I wanted to stay queen, I could only wear the crown for so long.

I will always be the leader of my own world, however my imagination can only reign so far past my reality. To imagine is not necessarily to avoid. And as the queen of pretending, I can keep my reign of power as long as I remain consistent in imagining rather than avoiding.

That is the real trick to the game; that is the real trick to wearing the crown of pretend.

Pinky Promises

"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing."

-Helen Keller

It was a turn of a page in an old scrapbook with paper that collected dust; it was a flashback sensation as if you are instantly transported back through time by a single moment. The words in permanent black marker read, "I pinky swear." Just like that, I was sent back to reality with those words permanently drawn on the paper and in my mind. It was that feeling of knowing those few words could mean so much and not even come true. This got me thinking about how I hold promises so high and mighty; this got me questioning the reason why.

It's phrases like "pinky promises" or "double-dog dares", we add supplementary words to a word itself to emphasize its very definition, as if the addition of words will reassure the definition itself. The thing about reassurance is that it is comforting and yet unnecessary. The thing about reassurance is it is like security. And the thing about security is that no one can truly attain it. Security is imaginary. It is this idea that we wrap into our minds to keep us together. But the truth of the matter is that no one can give a person reasons to keep themselves together except himself. And if security is real, it would happen through the means of opportunities that we take and where those opportunities guide us. Lastly, the thing about opportunities is that they are hazardous and yet thrilling. And unlike security, opportunities can "promise" you that you will discover whatever answer you are in search of. Maybe I just contradicted myself, because if you ask me, unfolding the answers you were looking for may be the greatest form of security a person could ever hold.

I pinky promise I never contradict myself.

I pinky promise that you should not hold security to that.

And I pinky promise you should give in to the opportunity of finding out if my pinky promises can be fulfilled or not.

I'm Moving Out

"The great thing in the world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we're moving."

-Oliver Wendell Holmes

I am moving out, moving out of the white picket fence, picture-perfect home I have constructed in my mind into the crystal-clear glass home of my heart. A glass home where people can see right through the place where I truly live. I will no longer live under limitations based off of what will create a prettier frame. I will no longer handpick what I acknowledge and showcase. Rather, I will frame anything and everything through the looking glass.

In this glass home, I will unpack the items from my picture-perfect imagination and welcome the company of hidden baggage that collected dust in a forbidden attic. Exposure and honesty, that is glass. Exposure and honesty, that is reality.

To live like glass would be to live a sturdy, yet delicate, and translucent life. To live like glass is to be prepared to risk crumbling into little cracked pieces knowing that nothing worthwhile is ever easy to put back together. While my white picket fence, picture-perfect home had walls made of bricks, I know bricks are not the necessity to strength. I am moving out, because I am done paying rent over what I only choose to afford. Money is more well-spent when one sees just exactly what they are purchasing, when one fully knows the financial commitment they are becoming involved in, right?

So see ya later, white picket fences and picture-perfect homes. You will see me later when I allow you to see right through me, framing anything and everything through the looking glass.

April's Fool

"I know that you believe you understand what you think I said, but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant."
-Robert McCloskey

Nothing is black and white. After all, that would be too easy. While it is so natural for me to accept the throne as the queen of over-analyzing, I cannot help but realize that by wearing the crown and taking that title would, in fact, be my very fault and that what I was looking for was right in front of me.

April fools, because I really feel like I have become April's fool.

You see, April made realize that I am so stubborn, so completely and utterly stubborn. My beliefs have always been something I cling onto like armor protecting me from discovering anything else. I guess it would seem cliche that the minute I laid down my armor and entered in a state where I was at my most vulnerable, that is when I would soon discover that my vulnerability would actually save me more than any steel armor of beliefs could ever protect.

April fools, because I really feel like I have become April's fool.

But this is the last day of April, and I am done falling for all the mishap. The joke was on me, however the punchline of this joke? That is exactly what is going to keep me going. I love the fall of a new month because besides a new month representing a page turner in my Starbucks planner (oh yes, I have a Starbucks planner), it is also a page turner on my reality. New days to cross or "ex-off", new memories to expedite.

I have never been more excited to face my vulnerability.

April fools, because April the only fool was you.

April fools, because now I will freely allow whatever crosses my path to come what May.

Ready, Set, Fall

“I don't like to hurt people, I really don't like it at all. But in order to get a red light at the intersection, you sometimes have to have an accident.”

-Jack Anderson

To quote one of my favorite 80's songs, Roxanne, you don't have to put on the red light.

The red light that made a not-so-Superman-like guy sigh after a two year battle with my heart. The red lights that consistently blind me like warning signs signaling when I believe I should be warned at most. The red lights that stop me out of fear of conducting and directing another sigh, due to another lost battle with my heart.

Ready, set, fall Roxanne.

Make those red lights switch to green. Be ready to stop the red lights you will encounter from fate-struck intersections. Set yourself for the greatest accident of all. Fall recklessly in love. Roxanne, ready, set, fall without any more road bumps or construction work along the way. Everyone is allowed to make a u-turn every once in awhile, but in certain areas, sometimes it is prohibited. Everyone is allowed to look back, but to a certain extent, sometimes looking back should be considered a prohibition.

Ready, set, fall Roxanne. Because these red lights may hold you back from the greatest accident of all. I promise if you wait long enough, these red lights will switch to green. Be ready, be set, and let it switch. Fall.

To quote one of my favorite 80's songs, Roxanne, you don't have to put on the red light.

And to quote my own advice, neither do I.

Recalculating

"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.
"I don’t much care where--" said Alice.
"Then it doesn’t matter which way you go," said the Cat.
"--so long as I get SOMEWHERE," Alice added as an explanation.
"Oh, you’re sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough."

-Lewis Carroll (Alice in Wonderland)

We were clearly lost, traveling as many miles as the words we spoke: too many and completely wrong. My cold words finally crushed that kid, that kid who was the All-Met Washington Post champion against them, that kid who fought and won every battle of my heart. We were clearly lost, begging the GPS to take us back to our final destination: home, where the heart is.

Recalculating.

That word, like a broken record, repeated on in the car with that kid; that word, like a broken record, that repeated on in my heart. While a GPS can navigate you from point A to point B, regardless of how many wrong turns you have encountered since point A, I could only wish of a GPS that could navigate me from point A to my point B, a GPS that could direct me through step-by-step instructions to my heart, regardless of how many wrong turns I had made since point A. As each "recalculation" was computed, I could not help but wonder, how many wrong turns until the final destination? The final destination being my home; the final destination being my solution to where the heart is.

Too many miles traveled and completely wrong words spoken later, we had arrived home. Yet not even a GPS could manage to direct us away from a fork in the road, the torn decision in my heart.

Recalculating.

While I am no longer lost in the car, I find myself constantly questioning, "are we there yet?" All I know is that once I am there, I will no longer have to wonder how many wrong turns until I reach the final destination. All I know is that once I am there, there will be nothing more to recalculate.

The Three Blind Hearts

The ability and the power to see eye-to-eye with someone can explain a lot, especially attraction. Naturally, people attract and band together based off of their beliefs, based off of seeing eye-to-eye. However when seeing eye-to-eye involves a telescope or beyond, achieving attraction can seem as distant as the ground to the stars. Now I know of the saying "opposites attract", yet it just seems more logical that people are more likely to assemble on behalf of mutual similarities. After-all, if I still like the Spice Girls and I meet a Spice Girl, we are most definitely going to get along smoothly. That can only be the most logical conclusion, right? ;)

Even within society, our generation is taught to stick in groups. In school students are divided into classes, in sports athletes are divided into teams, N*SYNC or the Backstreet Boys? Now particularly threesomes... and N-O, no! I am not implying what you think! But in all honesty, it seems like we're especially pushed to join groups of three such as: B-F-F'S, the three amigos, "snap, crackle, pop", the Powerpuff Girls (yes I really did go there), Obama's three favorite words, "yes we can", and lastly, the three blind mice, or what I will describe as the three blind hearts.

Now let me make this crystal clear: I am certainly not trying to single anyone out. My blog purposes for me to share my insights on a macro-level, to look at the "big picture" rather than the pieces. So here is my two-cents on the big picture, the big picture focusing on seeing eye-to-eye.

While the ability and the power to see eye-to-eye with someone can explain a lot, especially attraction; it can also explain communication vs. miscommunication. And here is the thing about seeing eye-to-eye, not everything is black and white. There is more to seeing eye-to-eye than sight. Even to be scientifically-technical, the eyes do not see. Eyes are simply a pathway for electrical impulses to reach the brain. The brain then converts these impulses into images. So, the eyes themselves do not see. Now there is another saying in which is less common than "opposites attract" yet holds a similar stance, "we can walk arm-in-arm without seeing eye-to-eye."

My dad always prepared me for the real world, reminding me that no matter where I am in my life, I may not always see eye-to-eye with everyone. So that is just it. To the three blind hearts, opposites do not necessarily have to attract and it is possible to walk arm-in-arm without seeing eye-to-eye and without changing your beliefs and without changing your sight. So to the three blind hearts:

"Close both eyes
to see with the other eye."
-Rumi

And to everyone else, please check out the official fan page that I have created for my blog just yesterday! I would love to meet and get to know every single person that has read and enjoyed my blog :)

Touché to Déjà Vu

"The wheel is come full circle."

-Shakespeare

Touché, déjà vu. You got me this time, yet I am thinking this is not the first time? The feeling of reaching a full-circle is a recent phenomenon in my life that has left me feeling pure awe, and anything except speechless.

As I am typing up this post about becoming full-circle, I must emphasize the entirety of this circle in which I have completed. Even as I am typing up this post about becoming full-circle, the nature in which I am typing this post has also reached full-circle! Hence, touché, déjà vu.

Last year, my first blog post in 2011 was an analogy comparing the spontaneous arrival of snow falls to the spontaneous arrival of relationships. In that post, I had come to a fascinating realization as to why we allow relationships to come and go in our lives. In similarity to snow, we enjoy the presence of relationships even with knowing the full knowledge of the risks that relationships can consist of, how relationships can fall into our lives like snow and melt right away. Considering I am typing this post while it is snowing outside, this is one of the numerous reasons why I have reached full-circle. No, not only because of coincidental weather but also because what I was planning on writing about in the first place.

I started this blog about two years ago, and in these last two years, I have emphasized the importance of relationships: the relationships that have arrived and gone, and the significance of these relationships and what they have taught me. And in these last few weeks, I have encountered experiencing the other-side of a story that fit similarly to what I had gone through and blogged about before. Hence, full-circle. Hence, touché, déjà vu.

As my freshman year in college progressed, ever so naturally, I found myself within a central group of friends. And as our friendships progressed, ever so naturally, there was a clash. However, ever so naturally, this is not the first time I have found myself in a clash; and coincidentally enough, the last time I can relate to being in clash, I was on the other side. The other side in which I was in the wrong, the other side in which I realized my mistakes, learned from them, and gained the knowledge of which so that I would never hurt anyone or myself again.

Hence to reaching full-circle, and the feeling of fulfilling the circle: the phenomenon in my life that has left me feeling pure awe in fully understanding why my past is my past. Touché, déjà vu. You got me this time, and I am fully aware now that this will not be your last.

The Heart of the Matter

"Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart."

-Confucius

While Valentine's Day is within a week away, I cannot help but feel disarrayed. Valentine's Day, probably the single most anticipated and yet single most suppressed day out of the entire year, a "Hallmark" holiday as some would insist, is practically eating at me.

You'll see that in this blog, I have written about relationships, rather it be friendships, heartache, or the epitome of what Valentine's Day is all about.

But from what I am concerned with at this very moment, in this particular post, the heart of the matter is solely examining the matters of the heart. Ha, can you tell I am disarrayed yet?

You'll see that in each of these posts of mine, I have written the words I had spoken and the words I compiled as building blocks to create walls guarding my heart. After-all, a vast reason why I wrote in the first place was due to feeling hurt.

So with this post, should one conclude that I am hurt, once again? Not necessarily. As I stated above from what I am concerned with, at this very moment, in this particular post, is to solely examine the matters of the heart, that is the heart of the matter this time. And the matters of my heart are that I contradict myself. Here I am, in a practically heaven-blessed relationship with truly one of the sweetest guy I know, and yet, I feel baffled. When he is present and right in front of me, I allow myself to fall head over heels. Yet when his presence vanishes away, I allow myself to fall head over heels for cold words. My cold words, which hold the same intention of the words I utilize in this blog to create the building blocks of the walls protecting my heart. My cold words, the words I know are fictional, but I say and believe anyway.

What I am trying to say is that I wish I did not get myself into these verbal messes. Even this entire blog post feels like one huge verbal mess. I cannot stand to be in this verbal mess any longer, I just want to know why I do this, why I speak cold, fictional words to guard my heart.

Since when was bitterness the solution to strength?

In truth, I do not have a clear-cut answer for this habit of mine, yet. But I will conclude this verbal mess with a challenge. My challenge is to hold onto the lucky, rare love I have now and allow my heart to embrace everything coming its' way, even with the risks that may follow. My challenge is to take the heart of the matter, which is the matters of my heart, and allow my heart to lead all matters.

How's that for a verbal mess? I can only hope it will be my last, and I am challenging myself to find out.

The Dream Catcher 3000

Dreams are a powerful thing. You close your eyes and your imagination steers you anywhere it wants, and when you open your eyes, wherever your imagination wandered off magically vanishes in a matter of seconds. But lately these trips that my imagination has led me overnight have contained these reoccurring themes, themes that have permanently captivated my mind. These reoccurring themes are composed of the ghosts of my past, the ghosts that have lived on despite the short-term second span of forgetting, the ghosts I wish were made-up and would remain transparent for the rest of time.

The Native Americans believed that the dreams we have overnight are messages sent from sacred spirits. In solution, they created what is known as a dream catcher, which appears in the form of a spider web. The holes in the web allow the positive messages sent from sacred spirits to enter ones sleep, while the web traps the negative messages.

It is times like these when I wish I could own some "Dream Catcher 3000" that had the technology to instantly and permanently devour all the negative messages and ghosts away from my dreams and my reality. It is times like these when I wish I could physically see a web of what I should allow to pass through the web's holes and what I should allow the web to trap and not permit into my life.

If there is any future Steve Jobs who is interested in creating the Dream Catcher 3000, or I suppose a i-DreamCatcher, then by all means: go for it. It would truly be the most convenient and efficient way of knowing who is worth over-analyzing and who is worth trapping in a web.

Then again, if this state of the art dream catcher were invented, this blog would be irrelevant and dead. Therefore, I take it back and leave it at this:

"Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect."

-Chief Seattle

Thanks, Twenty Eleven!

“ We could only wonder how she would be able to dust herself off and start over, over again. And yet we knew we couldn’t bear for her not to, and felt ever more optimistic that after all her struggles ... she’d have her friends. And the knowledge that she deserved the world."

-Sex and the City

Especially after the ride of 2010, 2011 has easily been my favorite year, yet. But while 2012 is unwinding, I cannot help but find myself disguised as a ghost in the past. So I just want to share my top eleven favorite moments of the year :) I hope this does not give off a conceited tone, it's just that I have had such a good year and I really want to reminisce about my favorite moments!

#11: Overcoming my fear of creating a youtube account!

#10: Being thrown a surprise 18th birthday party! So undeserved, but thank you so much :)

#9: The gorgeous things I have attained this year, from my lucky paris shoes and dress to my first (and most-likely only) BCBG dress!

#8: Dancing on stage at the Hat Factory with some of my new college friends!

#7: Becoming full-circle with friends, relationships, and reality.

#6: Singing on a boat tour in Nashville!

#5: Being featured in a french fashion blog!!

#4: Experiencing life as a high school senior and graduating high school :)

#3: Going to college!

#2: Overcoming my fear of falling in love, with Paris and a boy.

#1: Holding an even stronger bond with my family.