I love...

Loyalty. Nature. Simplicity. Hope. Rooftops. Adventures. Change. Finding exceptions. Family. Friendships. Writing. Spirituality. Introspections. Sensitivity. Morals. Humor. Children. Animals. Spontanuity. Creativity. Dance. Activism. Chaos. Romance. Excitement. Deep converstaions. Politics. Rain. Sabrina Lake. Cheerio. Poety. Passion. Color. Smiles. Vegetarianism. Hedgehog. Asking big questions. Paintings. Literature. Autumn. Invisible Children. Gay rights. Inspirations. Faith. Commitment. Honesty. Tea. Peace. Stars. Strength. Edna St. Vincent Millay. Memories. Meditation. Culture. Intellect. Anthropology. Success. Peace Corp. Laughing. Parks. Eloquence. Imagery. Singing. Joy. Patience. Imagination. Curiousity. Disneyland. Tim Powers. Old horror fims. Yellow. Lightening. Admiration. Late nights. Eyes. Attics. Daydreams. Dedication. History. Respect. Fairytales. Dreamcatchers. Intensity. The moon. Mountains. Long walks. Impressions. The Ybarra family. Crafts. Charisma. Beauty. Miracles. Hummingbirds. Early mornings. Open mindedness. Spring. Petnames. Regrets. Hugs. Exploring. Wonders. Clouds. Mythology. Privacy. Intruments. Forests. Youth. Freckles. Possibilities. Deepness. Mischief. Naivity. Mirrors. Home. 1969. Realism. Realizations. Conceptuality. Sleepovers. Journals. Nightmares. Words. Treasure trests. Mysteries. Sarcasm. Freedom. Communication. Teaching. Learning. Belief. Wit. Trees. Fear. Relaxation. Thinking. Being alone. Pomegranates. Debating. Corners. Concerts. Journalism. Libraries. Collaging. Adrenaline. Stamps. Songwriters. Fallen leaves. Afterlife. Waterfalls. Documentaries. Chocolate. Psychology. Impulsiveness. Lycanthropy. Dressing up. Life. Spinning in circles. Gerber daisies. Sunshine. Doodling. Closeness. Locked doors. Leaders. Wishing. Philosophy. Lullabies. Description. Tattoos. Talking. Rugby. Impacts. Indian reservations. Dances. Anticonformism. Curly hair. Independence. Vibrance. Pride. Healing. Roses. Road trips. Decisiveness. Happiness. Silver. Whistling. Sharing. Second chances. Black sheep. Escapes. Shells. Incense. Records. Roller derby. Languaged. Masks. Redundancies.

To be continued.

December of Reddened Leaves.

You could call it only a ray of sunshine,

You could, I would only ever suppose.

Most would only suppose simple light.

I felt your smile within eloquent prose.

~

Your dance of weariness remains so faint

As I still glare towards your unfaithful eyes.

Most would only dance in shades of grey.

I felt your terror forming endless lies.

~
You could call it only a reddened leaf,

You could, I would only such remember.

Most would only remember the sun.

I felt your distance of that one December.

~

Your song of trespassed hearts sings so heavy

As you continue melodies through snow.

Most would only sing of the emptiness.

I felt your warmth what feels long ago.

~

You could call it only a drop of rain,

You could, I would only begin of a dream.

Most would only dream of cruel pretentions.

I felt your kiss, or so it may seem.

~

Your painting of despair speaks of our truth

As I draw through your untouchable face.

Most would only paint of perfection.

I felt your sanity to always chase.

~

You could call it only blooming flowers,

You could, I would only hope in romance.

Most would only hope within thse blossoms.

I felt your faith only begin to dance.

~

Your script of scribbled bliss returns once more

As you write of such a wandering journey.

Most would only paraphrase elegance.

I felt your beauty with a solid yearning.

That night and you.

That night was bitter in its simplicity,
overwhelmingly so.
I crave to whisper thousands of words to you,
only returning
with thousands of disagreements.

That night was beautiful it its complexity,
twistedly so.
I cannot forget your scent of comfort
and sweet smoke.
I do not think I could ever forget you.

You are terrifying in your felicity,
perfectly so.
I have long since known better
and should know better,
yet I may just always return.

You are charming in your toxicity,
handsomely so.
I touch your hand with a faint smile
that will only fade by morning.
I never could forget you.

Subdue.

Screams of silence become her curse.

A tale of lonliness can only emmerse.
Her hands are shaking and she's ready to scream;
Intense pain becomes so suddenly surrene.

Her lips tell of yes; body screams of no.
You see her running yet never let go.
Her legs are trembling and ready to leave.
Is she truly worth the nothing you receive?

Shallow thoughts overwhelm to mind
As her secrets begin to slowly unwind.
Her head is pounding; body ready to run.
Unable to find the path to your sun.

Her darkness concurs into your empty bliss
As you explain of all she let herself miss.
Her lips are aching and ready for you.
With your kiss, she must never subdue.

Continuing on last post....

James was right, I'll elaborate. This rant is to be blamed on him.


To say that I'm not religious or spiritual would be a lie, but things like that bring me to my realizations of why I do not believe in one all-powerful "God". Similar to what Russell was saying on the teapot, how can we be lead to believe that this creature exists when our only proclaimed proof is something written by man? If we believed all that was simply put into text and passed on for hundreds of years, I could tell you that Zaboomafoo is actually an arctic seamonkey that has secret mind reading powers and if you told your kids, and their kids, and their kids, and we started a group of Zaboomafooians, that it would be true. This is impossible simply because the words of a person have no proof or determination of truth.

My other main reasoning on not believing in "God" is of the complete double standards of which you must live by in order to devote your life to him. A little over a month ago I went to Crossroads church in Corona. I will admit to after listening to the pastor, I was moved and an interest and infatuation with Christian belief triggered in my mind. I felt as if they were speaking from the heart, and that the words were pure and untainted. Afterwards they had basically a venting session called "Beauty" of which groups of young women talked about issues they have in their lives, offer prayers to each other, and basically try and help everyone in the group in their personal situations. I told them that I had been raised as an Atheist, but had been Agnostic and questioning faith for nearly a year. They were all amazed that I had come and were very welcoming. Basically, I felt very loved and happy.

Afterwards, the "Beauty" leader named Cassie asked me what was holding me back from believing and giving my heart to "God". I was completely honest with her and told her that I openly love people of both genders, and that there was no way I could ever think of my sexuality as being a sin and having to repent it. She simply stumbled over a response then sent me to talk to another leader named Noah. He sat me and my friend down, looked me in the eyes and told me that in order to give my heart to "God", I must repent for my sin. Once again, I stated I could not view this as a sin as I have been this way since I was much, much younger.

He turned to a page in his bible of which proclaimed homosexuality on the same level as evil as premarital sex, drug abuse, alcoholism, murder, rape, etc. I was at this point irritated to the point of tears and said, "Do you honestly expect me to deny who I am for 'God'?" His reply was exactly, "Deny thyself for thy father." This drew me to the point of wanting to leave as I told him I would not change who I am for a faith. He then put his hand on my shoulder and, excuse my french, fucking prayed over me. He prayed basically that I would come to my senses and open my heart to "God". Any "God" that is supposed to be all-caring and all-loving would accept anyone of any sexuality, race, gender, and life choice. I cannot and will not deny myself for such a hateful and discriminating idea of faith.

I at one point was willing to consider Christianity or Catholicism, but those are my basic reasoning as to why I cannot. However, I am still very spiritual in my beliefs. About two months ago my aunt Lana drove me to the Pala Indian Reservation in Temecula. When I was there, the essence and simplicity of the life surrounding me was beyond entrancing. I felt as if the second I set foot on to the territory that there was something there watching over and protecting me and all of us there. It'd be impractical to say that I thought some higher being was taking care of them, however I felt as if something within the nature surrounding us was a higher being in it of itself.

Later in the evening everyone on the reservation sat around a campfire and they began singing in their tribal languages as the Bears came out. The "Bears" are the older men of the tribe dressed completely in bearskins and other furs. They are believed to have healing powers and have been said to have helped a multiple people who were once terminally ill. If you hold on to their skins and furs as they dance and sing around the fire, it is believed to heal you of whatever pain you could possibly be feeling at the time. As you walk in to dance with them, you are "smudged", which, based on tribal beliefs, is basically removing you of all your evils. I'm not sure if I believe that the suggested healing powers exist, but I must admit to feeling nearly euphoric after being smudged and dancing with the Bears.

Another belief I have in regards to spirituality is, in simplicity, reincarnation. I believe that if a small animal, such as a mouse, lives and fulfills a life with a good soul, it will be reincarnated to a larger animal, and so on and so forth. I think eventually this leads to us, humans. What is after us? I'm not sure. I believe that the most beautiful of souls live on into simple nature or elements.

I enjoy not knowing one hundred percent of what I believe in. I believe that there is a reason for every happening, and that the reason isn't always for the better. I believe that tragedy strikes to ensure strength later in life, and happiness must be earned. I think if all we ever felt was happiness, there would be no point in the emotion as it would be as equal as feelings of indifference. I believe that everyone is born the a pure and good soul, and no matter what situations we are placed in it is our choice as whether or not to maintain the goodness. I believe that no two people are meant to be together, as I believe it is our choice whether or not to open our hearts to whoever we may chose. I believe life is simpler than any of us make it out to be.

And, most of all, I believe I think far too much.

Hmmmm.

This quote really left me thinking. I'm kind of in love with this philosopher.

"If I were to suggest that between the Earth and Mars there is a china teapot revolving about the sun in an elliptical orbit, nobody would be able to disprove my assertion provided I were careful to add that the teapot is too small to be revealed even by our most powerful telescopes. But if I were to go on to say that, since my assertion cannot be disproved, it is an intolerable presumption on the part of human reason to doubt it, I should rightly be thought to be talking nonsense. If, however, the existence of such a teapot were affirmed in ancient books, taught as the sacred truth every Sunday, and instilled into the minds of children at school, hesitation to believe in its existence would become a mark of eccentricity and entitle the doubter to the attentions of the psychiatrist in an enlightened age or of the Inquisitor in an earlier time."- Bertrand Russell

Leave.

Sunset, daylight, and follow her eyes
Into her beautiful heart beating in the night;
And she knows her soul,
And she falls into his arms.

Touch her, and see the light hidden
Behind her struggles of emptiness.
Wanting to find her love;
There is none left for the world to give.

That is when she says goodbye,
And leaves herself to find a way home.
Never did we wish to see the light
Drench behind her eyes.

Never will she pick up once again to fly.
Never finding her love.
Never finding what is right,
And then she says goodnight.

See her standing besides lost endings
Of what we have all become
And what will never be.
Watch her leave us all behind.

That is when she kisses her light,
Finding endless dark,
Finding her final hope.
That is when we say goodbye.

Poema necesita un título.

You look at me with such bitter disgrace

You stitch me into impersonal past
Your silhouette lesser than tangled lace
Your living daydreams, dreams never last

You look at me with a glint in your eye
You sew me into ignorable fate
Your silhouette lesser than your twisted lie
Your living daydreams, dreams never create

Redundancies.

I’ve told you all time and time

again that I will not change
and cannot change,
yet you all keep
running back to where you started.

I’ve told each little boy and each little girl
I am the same hardship
I always have been,
yet you all keep
running back where you started.

I am not a magical creature
and I am not anything new
and I will never be anything new,
yet you all keep
running back where you started.

All your redundancies rub ill
and I drench your love with guilt
leaving you pitiful and lonely,
yet you all keep
running back where you started.

I run in circles
and dance in flames
and burn all dancing in my way,
so I can always keep
running back where I started.

Those of yours.

Those warm arms of yours
are so tempting to wrap myself in,
though all they ever led to
were a rugged backseat that smelled
of another girl and spoiled fruit.

Those crystalline eyes of yours
are so temping to trap myself in,
though all they ever led to
were tears engulfing into mine
and her’s entranced in yours.

Those gentle hands of yours
are so tempting to grasp myself in,
though all they ever led to
were mine shakily reaching for you
when you were completely lost.

And here I am
wrapped in those arms of yours,
trapped in those eyes of yours,
grasped in those hands of yours,
and I can’t say no.

Foolish.

You grown man of eighteen,
so entranced with me,
me this whimsical girl
of four years minor.
You foolish boy.

You hold me with grace
and press your lips
upon mine gently,
leading to my bitter rejection.
Apologies aren’t enough.

You sing your song of
guilt and sadness,
and expect my decision
to suddenly differ.
My decision remains.

I will always only be
this whimsical girl
of four year minor,
running in the distance.
You foolish girl.

Breeze.

You are in the middle of a field with grass and flowers circling around your ankles. You smile as a gentle breeze surpasses you. You hear a faint giggle in the distance, however you see nothing but this endless field surrounding you. The sound fades into nothing as another breeze graces your skin. You turn around as you feel a soft hand brush against your cheek. You try to turn to see but you are masked by these gentle hands. You grab them to see a blue-eyed girl smiling at you. She wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you into a kiss of simplicity. You look at her with confused passion, and can’t resist melody of kisses to follow. You grab her around her frail waist and spin her as her bare feet tangled in her dress fly behind you. She begs you to set her down and you lay her giggling in the flowers and gently lay yourself beside her. You look deep into her crystal eyes. She turns her head and an unexpected tear rolls down her cheek. You brush your hand through her hair and kiss upon her closed eyes as your brows bend in subtle confusion. She looks up at you and pulls you deep into a deep world within her eyes. You hold her tightly as she gently moves her fingers across your arm as you feel your chest grow warm and damp from her eyes. She begins to part her lips to say something, then stops herself in her tracks. She gets up to walk away, but you grab her hand and look her deep into her unforgettable eyes. “I love you” you say gently as her eyes are speaking of her own warped imagery of love. She breaks contact and begins to run away as you stop her by wrapping your arms around her lower stomach, “Don’t leave me this time...” She continues running. A breeze flows by as the hairs on your arms rise. A gold ring falls off your finger into the grass as you begin walking away. You don't turn around.

Last Butterfly. (extended from "Perfection.")

Your silence speaks more than words now. You are standing there, looking at the ground, giving up on me. You tell me this is for the both of us, when we already know this is for you. This was always for you.

You ask me what I am thinking. Why not read what my eyes are telling you? My eyes are speaking a story of remembrance. My eyes are speaking of when you would cross your ankle underneath mine at the dinner table to be sure that no one would never see. My eyes speak of what I know is to never be spoken.

I came here to tell you that I had changed. You remind me of my own words, "People don't change." I am not the one who has not changed...as that is and always will be you. You have that same arrogance I learned to despise, and the same intellect I learned to admire. You are so wise, yet so naive. You have this bizarre way of believing you know all my behaviors and emotions; however we have barely conversed in six entire months.

You walk on my words with your cold stare. That stare could keep me awake for days. Your crystalline grey eyes fade into ash as they come into contact with mine. You break the silence in reminding me how I bring out the worse in you. I continue the pointless argument with reminding you of how you do not even know who I am. You grow silent realizing you never knew in the first place.

You stare at me as I begin to walk away. As expected, I feel your hand on my wrist. You tell me to not go, and I ask what the point in staying would be. Your silence once again answers my question. You pull my wrists to eye level as something has clearly caught your attention. You point out the fact that your bracelet is still on my wrist. I remind you of when I promised to never take it off. You remind me of when I also promised to always be faithful. I grow silent.

You watch me fade into my thoughts; fade into our vivid memories. I am no longer here, and nor are you. We are sitting in the basement, who knows when, and I am telling you the truth for the very first time. I tell you about the previous week, of another’s lips pressed upon mine. As expected, I feel your hand on my wrist. You mutter words of betrayal as tears run down my face. You tell me to be quiet and your strong fist leaves a purple imprint upon my chin. I whimper apologies as you silently sit next to me. You make me promise to always be faithful. I make the promise.

You saying my name brings me back into reality. I stroke my hand against my chin and you condescendingly tell me that I had better not be thinking of that. I remind you of how unforgettable the moment was. You spit profanities of me beneath your breath, again. You ask me to walk with you, and as usual I agree to your wish.

I follow you through the grass and the tension in our silence continues to grow. Blades of grass stroke my bare ankles as you stop in your tracks and stand directly in front of me. I try to continue walking as you only grab my shoulder and hold me still. You run your fingers through my hair causing an impulsive shiver to stroke through my body. I resist your contact and try to continue walking. You stand in front of me again.

You ask me what the hurry is and a make up a false excuse when the both of us know the truth. You smile slightly as I force myself not to become entranced in your charming grin. A giggle escapes your lips as you remind me of how terrified I am of butterflies. I ask you what made you think of this and then you point to the butterfly on my shoulder. I scream and run in circles, flicking my shoulder obsessively long after it has already flown away. You cannot control your laughter and I tell you to shut up but you just stand their smiling at me.

You ask me why we can’t simply have things like this always, and I remind you that things aren’t always this easy. I remind you that things were never this easy. You wrap your arms around my frail shoulders and I reluctantly lay mine on your back. Your warmth creates an undeniable emotion as you lift my chin. You bring your face closer to mine as my heartbeat becomes increasingly rapid. You begin to press your lips to my own as I turn my face. I whisper your name and how sorry I am, and you admit that you should have known better. You should have known better.

You begin to walk away and I stand their examining every one of your motions, hoping to see something hidden before. A piece of envelope is hanging out of your back pocket with my name on it. I turn away. You hesitate for a moment and completely stop moving. You begin to turn to look at me, but don’t turn completely. You look away. You continue to walk. You reach your hand into your back pocket, pulling the envelope into your palms. I hear a tearing sound and see two halves of the envelope fall on to the ground. I look back up to see you, but you are gone.

I walk to where the envelope had fallen and pull the two halves of the paper inside together. I sit on the concrete and piece it all together. “You never said you were sorry,” is written in your scribbled ink. I grab a pen out of my purse and write underneath it, “I never would have meant it,” and leave the paper in the concrete. I walk away.

The other.

"I don't want him anymore," is easy for you to say when you are in the arms of another. It is so simple is desregard your previous feelings if they are being compensated by someone else's. Rather than moving on, you move in deeper and only add another to this complicated list. This list continues to grow as your indecisive emotions constantly are jumping back and forth between the two. You claim to not care at all, and claim you do not feel for either at this point. You curl into the other and laugh at his charasmatic attempts in making you do so. You smile as he shares his warmth. You forget about the other. You have forgetten about the other until his presence is near, and his hand touches yours. He takes you a way into an unforgettable place and overwhelms you with ideas you never imagined. You forget about the other. It is not until you are alone that the two collide and erupt. You now have a choice,

And you know neither one will ever be right.

Perfection.

"You have given me no proof that you have changed, and since you have burned me multiple times, I don't want to let you back into my life. You are selfish, emotional, and unpredictable. While I think you try to be a good person, you just haven't yet learned how to do it. You are incapable of maintaining a relationship because you find a reason NOT to love the person your with, and that is because you don't love yourself. When you learn to love yourself, you might learn to love others. You are intelligent, funny, beautiful and incredibly gifted . I have forgiven you for your transgressions, but that isn't to say that I have forgotten them.

Remember me, because I cared about you when no one else would."

You look me in the eye and tell me every flaw, then expect me to do no wrong. Over and over, the same story told. You look at me as perfection, then as soon as one foot slips of the pedastool all hell is released. I did not ask you for anything, I simply asked to be your friend. I see now that it will never happen. I am not sorry about what happened, I just wish that is did not have to go this way. You are so wise, yet so naiive. You have this bizarre way of believing you know all about me, when we have barely had a conversation in six months. You remind me of my own words, "People don't change." You forget that I have grown up since then, and have learned that we all change. However, I am not the one who has not changed...as that is you. You have that same arrogance I learned to despise, and the same intellect I learned to admire. I have far since moved on, yet with every word you send me back to the little girl I was when we met. Ignorant. Vulnerable. I have become so much stronger without you, and one day I will prove to you, but even more myself, that I do not need you in my life. I never needed you.

It's the Little Things.

Okay, so. I really have nothing to write. But that picture, well, AWWEEEEE (:

Giggles.

I swing the bathroom door open. The cool air behind sends a slight chill across my back. I learn against the sink and look at my hair in the mirror. A quiet hum of an unrecognizable tune pours out of one of the stalls. The stall door opens. I slowly turn around, adjust my shirt, and notice her bare feet. She glances at me and her porcelein blue eyes meet mine. She smiles and then looks away. I turn back to the mirror and pull my hair out of my face as I hear her walk close to the mirror. I look up as she continues to hum and smile to herself in the mirror. She tugs at her thick blonde hair and a tear rolls down her cheek. She looks down for a moment. As I start to walk towards her she immediately stops her tune. I stop and she continues the melody. I pretend not to pay attention as she turns sideways and pulls her cotton shirt slightly above her ribs. She drags her finger sharply across her flat stomach. Another tear rolls down her cheek as she looks at me and giggles. I break eye contact as I feel my face growing warm. She looks in my directions. Out of the corner of my eyes I see her pull down her shirt and turn in a circle. I look up. She giggles. I turn to leave as she grabes my arm and pulls me tightly into a hug. I hug this beautiful stranger and her her beautiful melody in my ear. I let go and I can feel her arms shaking. I look her directly in the eye, smile, and walk away. The door closes behind me as I feel my eyes grow moist. I hear her giggle.

Pathetic.

Endless tale of how all comes to one,

He cries out for empathy ending with none.
Beautiful girl on his arm and another in his mind
With his make believe life and the story behind.
Dreams of chaos fantasize his thoughts
Of desperate calls and pathetic plots.

Trying to bring pity only bringing disgust
From those who are the only he can trust.
Pushing away with every last cry
With his false claims of pleasing to die.
No more again will either take
In obsessing in his unjust sanity's sake.

Forever.

The word "forever" escapes his lips
As if to be in simplicity,
As if to hold meaning.

Where is meaning in a vague word?
A word with no value.
A word being proven otherwise.

Only a second away
I can see this beautiful place;
I see my forever.

He is not there.
Never will he be.
He is not my forever.

Rooftop.

Rooftop,

You tell quite the story.

Laying upon you, beneath my stars.
I wish to beleive that every star hides a truth,
And every truth masks an unbearable lie.

And beyond that, there is this blanket of darkness
Coating the gentle unknown;
Into the midnight sky.

I feel your shingles loosen,
As my bare foot begins to slip.
I know my star will catch me.

Rooftop,
You tell quite the story.