Understanding the Beast- Goodbye 2015

"A mistake can be as simple as writing fresh produde on a grocery sign, or it can be as destructive as making a wrong assumption. Either way you do what you can to learn and move on"- Me.

Before I start this ain't some new year new me bullshit. Fuck that I never been one to think like that, January 1st is just the next day, it just happens to be a different year when it arrives. So please be advised this is more about my continuing growth as I get older; mentally, and emotionally.

For years I have said my goal is to calm down the beast within and become one that's acceptable to society, and guess what I've failed each time. I've tried telling it to go away, I've hurt myself in the process, repressing it away only to have it come back out like a jack-in-the-box throwing all my insecurities out for the world to see and fear.

What made 2015 the one to really stand out? This time the beast destroyed my friendships and a chance (or so I thought) to love. I think though its always played that role. I'm a destroyer, not allowed to have nice things. I've stood around and witnessed the damage I've done, I have faced the rejection from those around me and this year ends with me thinking I finally know what to do.

Over the summer, before the the disaster I had an interesting conversation with my cousin and she said she was tired of hearing people break me down and trying to figure me out. That she has known me forever and can say she has witnessed all my flaws but has also seen the good. She said she looks at me and sees the good I have done and continue to do. What had helped her see that was by understanding me; not changing me, not taming me (to think a word used for animals was used towards me). She said being a witness to my experiences helped her understand me, and be able to be the support I needed. She also reminded me of all my fuck ups but told me I needed to hear them, because I needed to know where I went wrong. This subject would be repeated later on, her reminding me.

For 2016 I'm not going to put the beast away, I'm not killing it, or allow it to take over. I want to understand it, support it. I started, been trying to get why it appears and loves to taunt me. So far I've seen that the beast within me isn't just reflected in my anger, but in my art, my work, and studies. It has a drive to be present and it has been working alongside me. I'm not going to lie there are power struggles, but it's a work in progress. My goal is to understand the beast within me, to support it into becoming my passion. I mean to make any relationship work both parties gotta understand and support each other, right?

I'm not saying this is going to make any thing that I have done better. I have the heart of a savage, it's what provides my intensity. Even if it has caused me to make mistakes, I'm finally learning from them.

So yea 2016 whats good?

There's a Light

The sun was starting to go down on the desolate road. It was only appropriate for my car to break down. I heard my father's voice in my head all those times he would tell me to listen carefully to my car, weird sounds were never good, but no I had to be stubborn. I'm as hardheaded as they come, it's why I was in this mess and on this road in the first place. Leaning my head back, I had to think fast.

Smart phone, duh.

I looked at my phone, "fuck" just one bar. I attempted to make a call, but no luck it wouldn't go through. Phone's on 65, at least I had that. I did refrain from opening any network apps. It's easy for me to look at them and get lost in what other people post, but right now I needed to save my battery. I needed to save my car. Shit I needed to save me.

Of course count on me to get on a random road alone, to just become fed up and drive off. I looked at my phone no messages, nothing new I rarely get hit ups. Then again lets be somewhat hopeful, I barely have service.

"Faaaaacccckkkkkkkkk!!!" I screamed out loud, as I hit my steering wheel. I need to get it together. Breathe in, breathe out. I took my phone and opened Siri, "please tell me where I am", secretly hoping that he (yea Siri is a he, and with an Australian accent, don't ask why), would tell me.

"No answer, not enough reception, can't help you, out of order, not in service, fuck your life, fuck your decisions, deal with it, you assed out playa".

Is what my my phone should of said. I sighed, but no reception. Hitting the back of my head against the seat, it was time to think fast and make an executive decision. "Why the fuck did I leave the house?" Fucking anxiety, stays screwing with me. Everyone is hanging out having fun, I've known them for years but right away I ask "What do they see in me?" "Why was I invited?" "Why can't I just chill?". The 15year old in my mind freaking out causing me, a grown adult to just walk out, ignore the questions, hop in my car and drive off. Did I mention I'm slightly intoxicated? And now I'm stranded on a country road, the sun is going down and I'm alone.

Sitting in silence I took one last look at my phone, no messages, apps can't connect, can't make calls. 62% on my phone, sun is going down and I gotta make a move, I'm sure I can walk my way back to the house and tell the guys to help me. But would they? "Shit!" I'm sure I fucked up again, what else is new? Ok breathe in, breathe out. I take my keys, grab my phone and get out of the car. Sun is setting, I start to walk. No headphones, no music, just walking. I know my car is safe. I think it's safe, no it's safe. God it's getting dark, my phone has a flashlight. My heart is beating fast, my anxiety off the chain I know this isn't safe but what else could I do?

I walk alongside the road, where the fuck are we? Why are there no other cars? "UGHHHH!" I look at the sky, it's getting dark, I turn on my phone's light. I think I couldn't have gotten that far? But I wasn't all there. Why hasn't anyone hit me up? They don't miss me, I'm gone, dead to them. I keep walking. I look through the trees, and see smoke in the distance, I stop and stare at it. If I get off the road it can be dangerous. But there could be people, there could be a working phone, I have to pee, why did I have that beer? I feel myself walking towards it, and the closer I get I see the shape of a house, it's dark within the shadows of the trees and as I hope for life, I see it.

There's a light.



Painting: "There's a Light"
Work of fiction by me.

logging into the subway

Torture is being on the subway with no music synced on your phone. I try pandora and YouTube but it fails at certain spots, and face it is it worth the usage of data? Do I really want that text saying how much I used? Beware of that $15 charge if I over do it. I pull out my book, getting into the title I feel like as I enter the subway car "Ready Player One " appears over my head. I'm on a quest to get home, exhausted and done. Working with children during the day, listening to lectures in the evening, my brain is ready to shut off, but I have to complete one final quest: get home. Book in hand I stand by the door, no seat available and I have little will power to even fight for one. My head spins a bit but I place my focus on my book, becoming engaged, surprised I'm enjoying this more than I thought. A part of me wishes to have a place like OASIS to hide, be who I want to be without the past haunting me. Be a hero for a change, instead of a villain. Getting in deeper in my book, I get dragged out by a voice, a high pitched annoying one spitting out teenage banter. I shake my head and try to ignore it. More people get on, some get off, I move over to adjust. Chapter 31, damn I can't believe I'm almost done, what am I gonna read next? Am I ok with my goal this year? 15 books is a lot, maybe I can change it, thats cheating. No brain stay on task. A man sneezes, I cough. "Stand clear of closing doors" ugh how much longer? I check my phone, answer a text, LOL, but am I really laughing? I look out the window, back at my book. My focus is dimming, I put it away, stare out at the world. This experience isn't just my own, I see through the reflection, this moment I'm sharing with all of these people. Some look tired, others looking like they just starting their day. I don't know them, their stories, they don't know mine, but we are all sharing this moment. This train ride. Their noise has become my noise, it irritates me but I just let it sink in. My thoughts are on them, not my own, so I guess it is my OASIS, my way of getting out my real world and being a part of something more. 

socks

Socks are that thing that you're just meant to lose. It never fails I buy a new pack of socks and voila they just start missing and I gotta mix match and fml where did it go??

Now I don't care about mix matching socks, honestly don't. But then sometimes I look at the odd pair and just think ya shouldn't be together, it just doesn't work for me. Like why can't ya be the same and show some sort of order, why the matching sock had to mess things up or was it you? Be honest sock cause you alone now and I gotta make you chill with another sock, maybe it fucked up too and ya both can fuck up together because ya dont match and now I gotta stare at two un-matching socks that FUCK UP MY FLOW! I can't just look down at my feet and be like this is ok, no its not, its terrible and I can't think about anything else cause my fucking socks don't match. 

And as i'm breathing in and out and really look at the mess I've made, I stop and think what am I going off about? It's not so bad, i mean they seem to mesh well, and it's not like people can see they don't match, I gotta wear shoes over them. And if they see, who cares? They my socks, they are working together and doing what they gotta do to cover my feet. Sometimes two different socks can complement each other very well. Stripes and spots, greens with pinks. Maybe I'll find their original partners, maybe those two can work together, but for now I'm just breathing and wearing 2 different socks. 

I'm talking about socks, clearly. Socks. Ok. Just in case, socks. 

Today

Today is the 1st day of the rest of my life. 

I've said this a lot, but this time I mean it for real, for real.

I'm opening my eyes, 

freeing my mind, 

embracing my soul.

It's the quest to make peace with my inner turmoil.

I woke up smiling today,

and my eyes were dry.

No hands on my shoulders,

no guide,

no pep talk,

its just me this time. 

This is my fight, I will rise. 

Clarity on a Mountain Top

Today I found myself on top of a mountain. I looked over the cliff, held my friends camera and snapped everything I could. I wanted to capture that brief moment where I was on top of the world, looking down. My heart pounding, legs weary from walking, feeling myself out of breath, I did it. I struggled to keep up with everyone, but I took my time, kept my pace and lost all train of thought when I finally saw the view. All I could think was the quote "I didn't come here to die, I came here to see if I'm still alive".

We made it, for some of us it was the first time hiking, for others they had experience.But for all of us it was an achievement. None of us got hurt, we all took care of each other. We all stood there and admired the view. We all congratulated each other and celebrated that we did something different. I'm sure whoever was on those trails heard our victory.

As we walked through the town of Cold Springs, looking at the small shops, we laughed out loud making jokes. We were the outsiders, and it was ok, it made us laugh more. It was peaceful. People spoke to us, they said hello. It was friendly. The parade was going down Main Street and it starred all of us. No one seemed bothered, in fact they smiled back our energy radiated in that town.

Then we made our way back to the city. Walking through Grand Central station looking above at the ceiling like a tourist I recorded what I saw. Reality struck though as I heard the noise, and then boom the city reminded me of its rawness.  Drug addicts getting their fill on the subway, cops walking around, cars honking, packed trains with people pushing for seats. I rolled my eyes grabbed a seat.

It's crazy how two places only an hour and half apart by train can be so different. On that mountain I could think and process my thoughts. I could look around and appreciate the simplicity of life. I was able to drain out the toxicity inside of me. I got home and thought with a clear mind how much of this raw, toxic behavior I carry within myself. I can be selfish, obnoxious and insecure. I have done things that have hurt people that I care about, the ones who care about me. I have allowed myself to become one with this negativity, letting things get in my head, and today as I stood on top of that mountain I felt some sort of clarity. But that clarity reminded me that I have to change my ways, I have to take that step and not allow myself to become that person again. Today I got a chance to laugh and go on an adventure with some of them and to feel that positive force from completing a challenge together gave me some assurance that I can change, be a part of something positive. I know I may never be able to fully make it up to the people I have hurt with my behaviors, there will never be an excuse for anything that I have done, but past is prologue, and as the story unfolds the ending can be brighter, better not just for me, but for those that I cherish within my heart but have let down.

I guess what I'm asking for is hope.

June 30th

"June 30th. On the sun roof. He woke up suddenly. At that instant a jet from the air base crawled in silence overhead. On the beach, children try to leap into its swift shadow."-Jim Morrison

The lights flashed,
phones went off.
The valley of buildings shook with a tremor.
Police and ambulances scramble.
The air was felt with a life fading away.
I was 19, lost a member of my tribe.
I look back and cry.
I wish I could have one more day,
Just to show you all that I've done.
Thank you for those days you dragged me to school,
Thank you for those walks where we could talk nonsense for hours,
Thank you for being my brother from another mother.

R.I.P. Bryant, 9 years later and it still feels like yesterday. 

It's been 10 years

The year was 2000, the new millennium and I was an 8th grader not sure of where I wanted to go for high school and one of my teachers pushed me to audition for a new arts school that was opening in Queens. She kept telling me it would be the best place for me to go, to just try and see what happens. Well I went with a monologue from "Butterflies are Free", and remember having a panic attack when after I was finished and they asked me for another piece. I froze. I was told to prepare one and stayed quiet until I started to tell a story and somehow it worked. A few weeks later I got my acceptance letter and the rest was history. 

Tonight is my high school reunion, and while some people hear that and are like "really you're going?" I'm actually looking very forward to it. In the past 10 years I have gone through some serious life changing moments, from finishing school to figuring out that my dream job wasn't going to cut it as a full time, to the death of one of my closest friends, to finding the career and getting on the track I needed to be on. And Im assuming that to most of my fellow FSSA peers the same can be said, 10 years is a long time and I'm sure we have all grown in some way.

One thing I've always felt bad about is that in those 10 years I let go some of the friendships I had. I'm notorious for not keeping in contact, and when asked if I speak to anyone from high school, I say "well does facebook count?" (And lets not forget I'm in this unplugging from social media process that probably going to make me a complete ghost from people). But yea for those who I was really close with in High School and have not spoken to in years I'm sorry. Life happens and people lose touch and unfortunately there is no reset button. So one hope I have is that this reunion reminds all of us of the good times because our high school, despite all of the drama, was one hell of experience. We went to the Frank Sinatra School of the Arts, we were the FIRST  4 year graduating class. We were together that day on September 10, 2001 (yea I know what the next day was #NeverForget) when that hallway opened up and we experienced 4 years of something different. We were teenagers who witnessed adult drama from our teachers who gave us the lesson that some of us wont ever grow up, to finding the right teachers who motivated and pushed us to become better than what we already were. Cell phones and the internet was new, and we knew how to look things up without google. We had a library with no books, and pulled off stunts that anywhere else would of gotten us expelled. We weren't fighting over who was the most popular, we were an accepting group of people, because we all knew somehow that anywhere else we probably wouldn't have fit in. (At least I'm speaking for myself). 

High School was where Barbi was born. (Yes mi boba I still have this.) 

If I went to a regular high school I probably would of been lost in the crowd.  It helped me  to begin clearing out the mess in my head (not gonna lie theres still some clutter lol) and I discovered my speciality wasn't in acting but more in writing, and not for theater but for films. Hence why in college I got my BA in Film Studies and later on got this gem http://www.imdb.com/name/nm3587567/.  

So tonight lets have a drink and remember the good times. Oh and for those wondering I'm a Pre-K teacher working towards my Masters Degree in Early Childhood Education. I've seriously come a long way from the annoying thug life girl I was in high school. 

Is it time to unplug?

If it wasn't for social media most of you wouldn't know this page existed. If it wasn't for social media I wouldn't find out as quickly about what my favorite bands are up to. If it wasn't for social media I wouldn't know what game is hot to play. If it wasn't for social media I wouldn't have seen how I got played. If it wasn't for social media I wouldn't get reminded of birthdays or get invites to random events. If it wasn't for social media I wouldn't even know about my high school reunion. If it wasn't for social media I'd be out of the loop more than I have become.

I have chosen to jump out of the loop.

I read an article recently and I agreed with most of it. I found myself telling a friend over the phone the other day that lately I've been posting more than usual and the truth was I didn't like it. I didn't bother to respond to comments or check if I got likes. I just didn't care about any of it. Social media has taken over so much of my time that it doesn't even allow me to enjoy wasting time. Yes I play games on my phone but I don't make it my business to reach out to anyone for lives. I use my game over to take a break from it all. Yes I like that it makes it easier to speak to friends outside of NY but the truth it so does my phone. Texting has lessen my anxiety of talking over the phone (speech issues) but sometimes you just gotta hear that voice. Making a phone call is so rare it only happens if the car is downstairs waiting or to see if you ready. Matter of fact recently these have been texted to me lol.

I had two very refreshing phone calls this week. One with a very close friend and another with a family member and both were exactly what I needed. While we referred to things online we spoke more about how we're really doing. No hiding behind photos or status's of quotes to make us sound deep and philosophical. There was laughter and jokes that the like was felt after the convo was done.

I'm just feeling this whole put your phone down and actually enjoy a moment movement. Ignore that notification for a second and look what's around you. Yes the internet is helpful and can be great but its stopping us from connecting with each other. You want to take a picture? Take it because the moment means something to you, not because that hashtag is going to get you noticed. You have something to say, find another way to express it. I found this blog, and while it ain't much it's been a great escape for me to just log in and type away here. I don't know who my audience is, I just know that every now and then a random person encounters it and it becomes part of their experience.

Yes me keeping a blog is an example of social media, and I can already hear the judgement but if you look at it carefully it's in moderation. If you want to see excess look at my notebooks and then say what you need to say.

Now excuse me I'm going to read actual book, cause it feels nice to actually hold.

The Chosen One

So here we go another blog entry on a another pop culture gem. Today I focus on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Its been 18 years since the show first aired, and it's considered one of the greatest shows of the 90's. Those that know me well, know how much I love this show. First lets be honest growing up there wasn't many strong female characters on TV. I watched superhero shows, and read comic books. Batman was my hero but I still wanted a female hero that I could look up to, so at 10 years old seeing a teenage girl (played by Sarah Michelle Gellar) kicking butt and still trying to maintain a normal life my attention was caught. The only issue, I was 10 and living in a strict household, my mom was afraid of what I was watching so she told me I couldn't watch it. Really mom? Well eventually I found ways to watch and she gave up and soon it became part of my weekly routine to see what adventure Buffy and the Scoobies were on. My inner romantic went nuts in the forbidden romance of Buffy and Angel (Not gonna lie I'm caught between the whole Buffy/Angel Buffy/Spike debate, but thats a whole different conversation), and finally felt that there was someone on TV I can relate to. It wasn't any of that Dawson's Creek nonsense it was Buffy. The violence, the teen angst and the thought that the apocalypse was coming was all I needed as I entered my preteen years.

Lets be very honest right now I was a strange child growing up. I always felt weird and different around people. I know my upbringing played a part in that. I was the tomboy who wore boys clothing, shy of my own image, played sports and rarely brushed my hair. While most girls would sit on top of cars and talk about boys, or making fun of me, I was out playing games of manhunt, getting dirty and learning to defend myself. I knew the struggle of arguing with parents who didn't understand me, or want to hear me out. I never felt like I belonged anywhere, and my comfort that things were going to be alright was in Buffy. 

Buffy Summers was not the average teen, she had a destiny, she had to fight and save the world, all while maintaining the normalcy that was expected of her, and no matter how hard she tried to "fit in" it backfired.  I'm not saying I was out there slaying vampires, nah chills, but I always tried to be one with the crowd, be accepted and instead I stuck out like a sore thumb, and yea I hated that feeling. Buffy helped show me that it was ok not to fit in. Things were going to be ok, that there were friends waiting for me that were gonna love me for who I am, and that I was going to be ready to face everything that comes my way, no matter how difficult it is. 

And I can't lie every day I put up the fight, I struggle with my issues, I work hard, try to maintain, I have some crazy ass awesome friends who have my back and yea while I'm not technically saving the world I'm kicking ass! And I guess I have to thank Buffy, well more importantly Joss Whedon for creating a character that I needed while growing up. Cause I'm cookie dough, and one day I'll realize I'm cookies. 

Gathering Material

“Writers, especially poets, are particularly prone to madness. There exists a striking association between creativity and manic depression. Why are more creative people prone to madness? They have more than average amounts of energies and abilities to see things in a fresh and original way—then because they also have depression, I think they’re more in touch with human suffering.” -Nick Flynn


 A few months ago I found an old book from my undergrad days. "Another Bullshit Night in Suck City" by Nick Flynn. At 18, a title like that obviously caught my eye, but unfortunately my attention span only lasted to the chapter I was mandated to read by my professor. It took me almost 10 years to come back to it and maybe thats how it was supposed to be. I don't think 18 year old me would of appreciated it as much, as I do now as an adult. 18 year old me didn't care about much unless it involved going out and sitting outside doing nothing. And now tonight I managed to find a copy of the movie version "Being Flynn", starring Robert DeNiro and Paul Dano (I didn't know there was a movie til way after I finished reading it).

For those unfamiliar with the story, it's the memoirs of the author, reflecting back to his childhood being raised by a single mom and her many boyfriends, to finding himself working in a homeless shelter in Boston where he encounters the one ghost he can never seem to get rid of, his father.

Jonathan Flynn on his own is a character to remember, along the lines of Willy Loman, a man lost within his own ego. He is a man, a husband, a father, a thief, a conman, and most importantly because he will remind you, the next great American novelist.

Now I'm not writing this to give you a review or tell you the story, for that just read the book yourself or for those who want is quicker just watch the movie (HBO go). I'm writing this because when I read the book I felt like I knew Nick, because I could relate with him.  Lost, unsure, insecure and wondering about those around me, going back and forth with ideas, working odd jobs until finally I had my break down and picked myself up again. That it's true you can't choose blood relations, and we in the end become a slight reflection of our parents like it or not. How self hatred is very real and the way you deal with it is reflected consequences of your actions. By the time I put this book down I saw the world differently, I felt a dry emotion and all I could think was I need to finish something. I don't want to end up spending a lifetime talking about ideas and never completing any of them.

Jonathan Flynn (in the film, can't remember if it's in book) says "Life is gathering material", that is so fucking true. How many moments do we share with people we know and don't know? What about the stories of times before us, the ones that led to our own existences? Those are the stories that make us interesting and unique. It's easy to think our lives are meaningless and boring, and you know what sometimes they are. It's the cold honest truth. Anyone who can say their life is perfect or that I am wrong is lying right to your damn face. But that boringness, that insignificance you feel has character, its the material that pushes some of us to create, or work, or do things. Happiness can do that too. Emotions are raw, you just have to know how to cook them.

life is gathering material....

I'm glad that I found this book, it came to me at the perfect time. It was a downer to read at times, but it reminded me of the human spirit and the story it has to tell.

So with this, I go back to working on the story I want to share with you all...