Nomotions

Growing older is difficult.

When I was younger, I thought I knew myself but I apparently had a lot to learn.

I guess I could have just changed.

Different circumstances molding me and changing me.

This way of thinking could just be a way of making me feel not so lost.

Making myself believe that I did know myself.

That I've just changed.

I thought I was a sentimental girl.

And I am but to a certain extent.

Only with my friends and family.

The ones I care about and love.

I just suck at dealing with emotions.

Emotional walls and selective memory have become my sword and shield.

They help me fight and protect myself.

I don't like to talk about them.

I don't like it.

It makes me uncomfortable.

Bothered.

Flushed.

Growing up is hard.

drama not 4 my momma

yesterday we talked about living together after graduation and today i had my first fight with M. i'm annoyed that it happened and how we both reacted. i never really know what to do with conflict. i'm even more annoyed that tonight was supposed to be fun and it turned so dramatic. my friends keep texting me to see where i am, and instead i'm moping in my room.
dammit.

list

i'm thankful:
-for love.
-for shared moments.
-for lasting connections.
-for opportunities taken and missed.
-for the compassionate and dedicated people in my life.
-for the first/second/third chances i've been given.
-for moderation and excess.
-for distance and intimacy.
-for consistency.
-for chance.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

I am addicted to Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
It's a terrific show.
With strong women, good values, and delicious looking men.
What more can a girl ask for?
Really not much.
I have never seen a series from beginning to end.
Yes, I did skip half of season four.
I did.
Shameful.
It's not my fault though.
Season four sucked.
I mean, annoying boyfriends, a stupid Big Bad (a Frankenstein type monster? Really?!?!?), and no Angel.
So I skipped the stupid episodes.
I'll watch them eventually.
I've watched mostly all of Buffy.
But now, I'm in season seven.
The last season.
No more Buffy.
What will I do?
When I was having a difficult time living, I escaped to the Buffyverse.
With vampires, demons, goddesses.
A universe where I would imagine myself as Buffy.
Strong, powerful, chosen.
Where I would kick the fuck out of my problems.
Defeating them while making witty comments.
And wearing stylish yet affordable boots.
With awesome skirts.
And no bra.
My problems went to the back of my mind.
It was so helpful not thinking about them.
Buffy will be over soon.
I guess I can find another show.
I just know one thing: nothing can replace Buffy.
Nothing.

associations, part deux.

yesterday this proved to be an effective use of a break and a precursor to productivity. sometimes i think people in the US overemphasize productivity. where's the happiness and other ~stuff~ essential to Humans. valuable lessons i learn i never write down yet i probably should. i worry that i'll forget things that were once important to me. i oftentimes have the feeling that i should be doing things. i am working against that culture. i am doing what needs to be done until natural breaks come. i try to treat school like my job. sometimes i wonder how happy i'd be with a job where no mind effort is necessary. none. i don't yet have an answer. i don't usually have answers. especially in high intensity situations where insults are flying. i never have an answer. i can always brush it off though. brush it off and bounce back.

I don't learn...

...again I gave my number and again, it wasn't used.

Lame.

word association.

what's in my best interest. relaxed day to day of the pacific northwest meets the buzzing of east coast urgency. emergency--when do you decide to go see a doctor. the pain is going away though. the last one i saw told me i wasn't ready but commended me for waiting. patiently waiting, waiting, waiting. this morning i took a walk with a boy i babysit waiting for mom to come home. home holds such a transient meaning for me. right now it feels like here but who knows where the next few months will take me. life is full of exciting/scary as fuck choices. anxiety arises in strange contexts. the retrospective kind being the worst. i still remember that time my book project fell apart in front of the seventh grade classroom. all things fall apart, that was a book. i told him about it last night. we laid there for hours. what's the difference between laziness and comfort.  

Hump Day, Fun Day

I made it to Wednesday.
I made it.
Monday seems like a dream.
A nightmare.
Like it didn't happen.
Monday was horrible.
But I made it.
I actually made it and that is what counts.
I am here.
I am alive.
I did it.
Thank God

Ready or Not...Here I Come

I wasn't ready.

Woke up today and I wasn't ready to be Laura today.

Was not ready to face the world.

The ugly world that won't leave me alone.

Let me be.

I wasn't ready and it showed.

Got to work and I felt so sad.

It kept growing, my sadness.

Kind of like those toys that you put in water and they grow.

My sadness kept swelling and swelling.

Swelling and swelling.

Until I couldn't hold it anymore.

It exploded like a volcano and I had to run to the restroom.

It became so much that I couldn't stand up.

I thought, "ew restroom floor" but it didn't matter I sat down.

I cried.

I cried.

I tried to stop since you can hear whatever is going in the restroom.

The harder I tried, the harder I cried.

Messaged my mom.

She understands the sadness.

She understands and told me to cry.

Crying is good she said.

So I cried some more.

Then, I stopped.

I thought I was ready.

I faced the office, went to my cubicle.

I wasn't ready.

So, I ran to the restroom and cried some more.

I tried again to face the world and the world won.

So I ran to my car.

The safety of my car.

It worked!

I cried and I stopped and I faced the world.

I'm still fragile but the sadness is not so overwhelming anymore.

It's just there.

I hope it goes away.

Hide and Seek

I wish I could be like a little girl again.
A little girl that believes that you become invisible if you close your eyes.
That hiding behind a skinny tree will make you invisible to everyone.
I wish I could just hide forever and never have to come out.
I'm feeling extremely sad.
And this time I know why.
My melancholy personality doesn't really help me in times like this.
I want to wallow in my sadness but I have no time.
I have no time to be sad.
No time to cry and not be asked why.
Crying lets me get rid of sadness.
I guess I'm not making much sense right now.
I don't even understand myself too much either at this moment. 
Why can't I just go away and hide?
That's exactly what I'm feeling.
But it's not really a feeling.
I just want to hide.
Hide for a little bit.
Hide and not be found.

There should be a rule...

...that says, "if you ask a girl for her phone number, make sure you actually use it!"

rxtn

i don't know if i can 'teach' you but i can say what worked for me was communication and letting go of fears and reservations. sounds cheesy/cliché/trite/insincere/hard/simple, still i have been amazed by what a difference active and frank communication makes in a relationship [substitute for friendship, partnership, etc]. i think M and i were scared to rush into a relationship and we both verbalized that and then took it at a pace that worked for us. it's something we're constantly in dialogue about, and that we're still working on yet it formed a really solid basis for beautiful, beautiful things.  

last start

tomorrow's my last first day of college. it's weird how nervous i feel--like i did on that very first night before freshman year. i'm sure this year won't mark the end of my post-secondary education, but it's definitely a milestone, an accomplishment even, that i've made and succeeded at it this far. it's beautiful to reflect on how i've changed as a person––my perceptions, emotions, beliefs, behaviors, etc––since coming to Reed. i feel like i've grown into myself here, alongside some of the most interesting characters i'll ever know.
i'm starting to get tear-y...

My mother wants to leave.

I've been talking to my mother. 

She is not happy. 

Brother and her came back from Colombia not too long ago. 

We talked. 

I could see it in her face. 

She wanted to tell me something. 

She did. 

She's been thinking of moving back to Colombia. 

For a little while. 

By herself. 

I don't know how to take the news. 

I mean, I understand. 

I understand. 

I understand her. 

She needs it. 

She needs to figure out her life. 

Be independent. 

I just don't know what I will do. 

I can't live here without her. 

I cannot. 

She needs it. 

I love her.

Rii-ACTion

Can you teach me how not to run away?

Please? 

I'm so proud of you. 

For not running away. 

The scenarios that you explained are my life. 

Every single one of them. 

I didn't say bye to Dean. 

I pretended to be asleep.

Didn't answer her phone calls. 

Din't even look at the text message until the next day. 

When she was already gone. 

I couldn't say bye. 

She was the only one that stayed with me. 

She was leaving. 

I didn't know how to deal. 

I didn't want to cry. 

I'm so proud you stopped running. 

I'm afraid of commitment.

So I don't commit. 

I'm afraid of love. 

So I don't love. 

I don't mean friendship love but romantic love. 

I will learn. 

I will learn like you have learned

i'm happy

when i'm scared of things i avoid them. i postpone daunting assignments, talking to people on the phone, & responding to messages when i don't know what's coming. i actively try not to run into people, i circumvent places, i overlook situations, i lie. i get out of previously made arrangements, i cancel, i 'forget' to show up. i never know what to do with myself afterwards--keep avoiding, journaling, sleeping. if i spent all my life avoiding things, places, & people, i would never get anywhere. i'm reflecting on this because i dropped a special someone off at the airport yesterday. had i avoided him, like i did for a few weeks at a tipping point in our friendship, i never would have developed this vibrant, healthy, loving relationship. i like someone more than i have ever liked anyone. it's new and scary and wonderful.

what

is love?

I'm not funny anymore.

I was going to write you an email.
But I decided to check the blog first.
So, I'm blogging instead of emailing.
Woo!
Let's see if I can be creative for once.
Let them creative juice flow like some water fall.
Ohhh, like the Niagara Falls.
But then, yeah no.
They're too big and too ferocious for me.
Grrr.
I'm a ferocious fall.
Grr.
No more like a small fall.
Peaceful little stream.
Down a teeny tiny little precipice.
That way my thoughts will be focused and peaceful.
Ohmmmmmm.
Well, this post is getting weird.
I'm a little weird.
I have an idea!

Okay, so I live in Miami.
Miami equals Hispanic.
Hispanics equals Hispanic culture.
Hispanic culture tends to be disorganized.
Rulers and following them isn't very important.
Not rules like big rules but like little ones that are "stupid".
For example, the left most lane in an expressway is the fastest lane as a rule.
Nobody follows this.
NOBODY.
This is so frustrating.
I am trying to get to work.
Fast and fast and I can't.
I can't because people decide to drive 45 mph in the fast lane when the speed limit is 70 mph.
Like, no bitches swerve.
Honestly.
I need to be at work on time.
You are not making this easy on my life.
Stop it.
I hate it.

Okay, so that's that.
I'm going to stop this post.
I'm not funny anymore.

love, or something ignites in my veins

this was my favorite song when i first heard it in, like, the seventh grade. i listened to it for days on end and would try to copy vanessa carlton's graceful dance moves. i had an urge to listen to it this morning, for some reason. (i feel like it was related to the dream i had.) i hadn't realized what the song was truly about until a few minutes ago, whoa.

New hair, new problems

My mom hates my hair.
She hates it.
She thinks it looks bad.
Instead of fucking keeping it to herself, she tells me.
I mean, honestly, on top of my other bunch of shit, she had to add insecurities to the mix.
Because I obviously need more insecurities on my life.
Really.
Make me doubt myself.
I mean, no it's okay, I love doing that.
Doubting myself.
It's like a hobby really.
Oh yeah, doubting myself and my friends.
Because trusting people isn't hard enough.
She says everyone is just being nice.
I mean, this is what I think to begin with and it takes me time to trust people.
And now.
Back to square one.
I mean, really.
Fucking shit.

Pixie do, pixie don't

I love my new hair.
Courage finally came and I cut it.
Cut it into a pixie.
I did it.
I love it.
But I do have a complain.
Okay, so maybe two complaints.
1. It isn't as easy to style as I thought.
2. Short hair seems to make people think I like girls.
I don't like girls.
It's all about boys boys boys!
They make me tingle.
So square and big and strong and boys.
Why does short hair have to be a sign of lesbianism?
It's not!
Short hair is freedom and equality.
It just means I wanted to be free.
I wanted to see how I would look.
Experiment.
It does not mean "girls come at me!"
My goodness.
No.

hey love,

i know it's always hard to believe, but this too will pass. if there's anything i can do don't hesitate to let me know. i'll be home in a week. i leave you with Postsecret words of wisdom:

Jesus Take The Wheel

My family has always been different. 

Even though we may seem relatively normal, we are not. 

This statement used to only describe my extended family. 

The crazy aunt. The anorexic cousin. The lesbian sisters. 

The toothless pirate. The Mormon Little Monster.  

A dysfunctional bunch. 

It's crazy how "different" now applies to my immediate family.

I mean, I have an older sister I met only three years ago.  

Stuff like that only happens in novelas. 

Maria la del Barrio and shit.  

Or apparently in my family.

My cousin has a younger sister she learned of three years ago too; her dad has another family on the side.  

Run of the mill stuff. 

And now, I find out another thing about my family. 

My immediate family. 

Something that breaks my heart. 

It's the reason why I can't sleep. 

The truth hurts sometimes. 

I think I would have preferred to be in the dark. 

Ignorance is bliss. 

It truly is. 

I ask, "why me?" 

I think God believes that I'm a bad ass. 

A bad ass that can handle a broken heart and broken dreams. 

I hope I am. 

People move on from harder issues. 

I can too. 

It was just a blow. 

An atom bomb. 

KABOOM. 

My life changed. 

Just. 

Like. 

That. 

I probably told you that I was sick for three days and bed ridden.  

I was bed ridden because I was so sad. 

Sunshine made me sad. 

People made me sad. 

My body got sick because I was so sad. 

I think I was on the verge of depression.  

Honestly, I don't know how to deal with it. 

You're the only person to know. 

And I think it's best to keep it like that. 

I don't want to explain why. 

The "why" hurts. 

Like if my heart was being crushed by a pink elephant. 

One of those from Dumbo. 

Like my childhood nightmare.

I know I'll come out a better person. 

I know it. 

It just hurts now. 

God save me. 

Somewhere over the rainbow

I used to love sleeping.

I mean, just check previous posts. 

Sleeping was like a drug. 

I was addicted. 

I didn't want a 12 step program to battle it. 

It was an addiction I loved. 

This has all changed. 

Sleeping is scary now. 

So very scary. 

I can't sleep like I used to. 

My head thinks and I try to fall asleep but it keeps on thinking. 

And thinking. 

And it hurts. 

Then, when sleep actually comes - I dream. 

I dream weird things.

Things I can't remember. 

But I know aren't peaceful. 

I wake up in the middle of the night. 

Because my head feels clouded. 

It takes me a while to find sleep again. 

I wake up as as if I hadn't slept. 

Tired. 

So very tired. 

lovestruck

Sarah Kay is so beautifully inspiring, this piece is one of my favorites. i listen to this every once in a while and hope for the day i will write and perform something like this.

I got a tumblr.

I got a tumblr.
Check it out, yo.
http://lgtzp.tumblr.com/

web of thoughts

today's a blogging kind of day. i have so many loose thoughts floating and multiplying in my mind.

i went on a run this morning through the hills and caves of parc des buttes chaumont. it felt like running through one of Disney World's "nature" areas; the hills were perfectly rounded, the flowers colorful and aromatic, the bridges an aging copper tone. i ran past a few groups practicing tai chi under a rocky waterfall, and i witnessed a man playing his flute and singing to ducks in a pond.
it was liberating to run to forget the work i should be catching up on and the emails i should be replying to. running past so many beautiful instances, like the couples sneaking in kisses in the cave's dark corners, or the old man petting a passersby's great dane. it was emblematic of my time here thus far: beautiful yet ephemeral. i know i've blogged about this before, but there is something to be said about the Parisian way of living. it makes me feel so alive to live in a city where everything is so short-lived. the glances exchanged on the metro, the accidental meeting of hands on the street. seize the moment has never meant more to me.

the other day in my literature class we were discussing how light travels, how the stars we see are potentially no longer in existence. le décalage temporelle entre les étoiles, la lumière, et la vitesse. (some things just sound so much prettier in french.)

anyway, this whole experience is really building up the anticipation and excitation i have to return to the US and start something long lasting. i'm not sure in what sense i mean that yet. but if there's anything i've learned about myself this year it's that as much as i love change and being independent and taking risks, i yearn for stability.

Your Sentiment and Mine

A New Experience

Starting this post is harder than I thought. 
This is because I'm not exactly sure what I'm feeling.
I've never been in this position before. 
I've liked people before but it has all been very superficial.
With this one, it's different.
It's differrent.
So different.
When I first met him,  I thought he was obnoxious. 
He would talk during class with his friend. 
They were so loud.
The class was so hard.
The professor had a heavy Chinese accent.
I needed to pay attention but I couldn't. 
Because of them.
I gave them weird looks but I noticed they were fraternity shirts.
One day,  I had been studying by myself the whole day and I saw him sitting by himself.
He was better than studying by myself so I just sat down and introduced myself.
He was ugly. What did I care?
I had a great time.
We talked and he said "blah blah my girlfriend"
Whatever, I thought.
We became friends.
And now it's a year and a half after and I like him.
I dont know why I like him.
But he's nice to me and sweet and funny.
We get along so well.
I enjoy his company.
And this is the problem.
Because he is still with his girlfriend from a long time ago.
I wish I could not like him.
I don't like feelings like this.
Worse?
We could end up working together.
That would mean 40 hours a week together.
So many hours.
I think he might like me.
His attitude has changed.
For the better. 
But he has a girlfriend of 5 years.
I would tell him.
I would tell him if he didn't have a girlfriend.
I would.
It's gotten to that point.
To the point that I feel a need to tell him.
I want him to know.
His response doesn't matter.
I just need to get it off my chest.
He could reject it.
He could accept it.
I don't care.
But I can't.
He has a girlfriend.
I'm not that type of girl.
It would make our friendship awkward.
I want to see him.
I want to tell him.
This is so frustrating.
I like him.
I want him.
Very very much.

socks off

i've come to the point in my life where my colorful socks are no longer a cute & quirky fashion statement.
didn't think this day would come this early.

i'm too young to be feeling this old.

sans context

ce soir je suis allée à le beaubourg toute seule après que j'ai fait mes adieux à mon amie qui m'a rendu visite pour la semaine. autant que j'aime bien mon amie, je suis un individu qui est vraiment sensible à la solitude. c'est la qualité introvertie dedans moi. donc, mon voyage à le musée du beaubourg a été un moyen d'être avec des autres gens mais d'être seule.  

c'était ma troisième fois à le centre, ma deuxième fois à le musée. chaque fois que j'y aller, il y a toujours quelque chose qui me frappe. cette fois, c'était un dessin de Johannes Kahrs qui s'appellé  "I finally accepted fate." Il s'agit de les élections présidentiels aux E.U., et Kahrs a utilisé une photo de John Kerry, un candidat politique, dans le moment dont il a appris qu'il avait perdu la course aux élections. Kahrs, néanmoins, a transformé l'image pour seulement dépeindre les mains. en plus, la description à côté du dessin rend les mots: gestes très expressives décontextualisées. 

ces mots m'ont donné la chair du poule parce que s'il y a une grande difference que j'ai fait remarqué entre Paris et Miami, ou Portland, ou New York, ou il n'importe quelle ville aux E.U., c'est les démonstrations d'affection en public. partout je vois des couples qui se pelotent–dans le métro, sur les trottoirs, dans les cafés. quelquefois il m'enerve de les regarder. peut-être que je suis jalouse. peut-être que quelqu'un me manque. mais, il y a des autres fois quand je vraiment voudrais qu'ils me racontent ses histoires: comment ils se sont rencontrés, quelles sont ses traits préfèrent- de l'un à l'autre, etc.

de toute façon, ces mots m'ont ému. de penser que toutes que je vois et que je fais sont de petits gestes très expressives décontextualisées. ça c'est génial.

---

this evening i went to the centre pompidou by myself after i said goodbye to a good friend who visited me for the week. as much as i like my friend, i'm a person who truly appreciates being alone. i guess it's my inner introvert. my trip to the art museum at the pompidou was a way to spend the evening amongst others but to be by myself. 

it was my third visit to the center, my second visit to the museum. every time i go, i'm taken aback my the beauty i find therein. this time, it was a drawing titled "I finally accepted fate" by Johannes Kahrs. the photo is about the US presidential elections, Kahrs used a photo of John Kerry as he found out that he had lost the election. Kahrs manipulated the image, however, to leave only the hands. what truly got to me was the the plaque next to the image that described it, among other things, as: highly expressive decontextualized gestures. 

i got goosebumps when i read the words because if there's any difference i've noticed between Paris and Miami or Portland or New York or any other city in the US, it's the very notable public displays of affection. everywhere i go, i see couples kissing and touching each other––from the metro to the streets to restaurants––every where. many times it annoys me to see them. maybe i'm jealous. maybe i miss a certain someone. but, then there are those moments when i see these couples and i just want them to tell me their stories: how they met, they're favorite qualities in each other, etc. 

anyway, the words in the images's description moved me. to think that all i see and all i do are small but highly expressive decontextualized gestures. that's beautiful to me.

the beaubourg

Happy Valentine's Day!

Here's Darth Vader with a flower for you!

feeling like a champ

barely caught the last metro of the night at 1:57am

Hey, you!

Senioritis

I have got a terrible case of senioritis.
I am in my second to last semester.
I can feel myself graduating.
Feel it in my 22 year old bones.
Graduation.
Cap and Gown.
The whole shebang!
Yes.
I feel it.
Love it.
This is bad.
Because:
a) I still have two more semesters to go.
b) I need to get good grades.
Sigh.
I wish I could just pay someone to take my classes for me.
No scratch that.
Rewind.
I wish I could learn my osmosis.
Just sort of touch my books and BOOM!
I am owner of all that knowledge.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes!
It isn't a reality yet.
Maybe...probably...it never will.
Still, a girl can dream.
Sweet dreams are made of this.