mindwanderings

Empty nights like these give me time to reflect on what is going on in my life. I’ll be going home in 6 days and I’m more appreciative than anything. Home was once, at a time of my life, my inspiration. What am I exactly feeling right now…I’d like to know. I feel a little overwhelmed at all the work that needs to be done, I feel nostalgic of past times, but overall, I think I have a void in me that is yearning for something that will never be there.

It’s a bit difficult to type at the moment, as my fingers are frozen and numb, but all is well as I am typing away in this warm room, listening to the rain fall outside. I want to meet someone who understands me, and who can see the beauty that I do. I’d like to meet someone who can hear the music of the wind, who feels the zephyr passing through, who can watch people as they make their way in the streets, and be okay with it.

I wonder how life deals its cards, who gets lucky, and who doesn’t. I think right now I’m just waiting…waiting to get on with my life.

It is the Friday before Thanksgiving, and practically everyone in the dorms have cleared out. In a couple of days, everyone on my floor will have went home, and I will be alone. Except that I’m not.

My boyfriend is coming to spend the entire week with me and I couldn’t ask for anything more. I appreciate him and all his kind endeavors to make me feel at home. And the wonderful thing is, he is my home.

I get the sympathy look from people when I express that I won’t be traveling back home this holiday. I think everyone feels that this time of year is when families come together; it would be wrong to be alone.

Today I realized that without my wonderful honey, I would be extremely lonely. I tried to convince myself that I would occupy myself with things to do since I have all this free time, but I’d have that pang in my heart that I am away from everybody. I can already imagine the silence of the hallway ringing in my ears.

This Thanksgiving, I want to give all my appreciation to my wonderful babe. Not only is he the sweetest boyfriend in the world, but he always goes to great lengths to put a smile on my face. But at this moment, it is not only a smile, but tears in my eyes. I am so thankful to have someone so INCREDIBLE enough to give up everything in his life just to be with me. I’ve never been happier in my life.

I’m going to see him tomorrow and I can’t wait any longer. These past hours have been dragging; the only thing that would settle me is to see him. I have a good 12 hours more, but the smile that I will get when he walks through the door will definitely be worth the long and excruciating wait.

With everything said, I hope everybody is with people they love, because that’s the true reason to be thankful.

I’m so excited for this coming week! Not only is it Thanksgiving break, but I get to see my lovely beau, who I miss so much. It’s hard being away from someone you love for so long; one could almost say that it is painful. Just to be in his arms again, is all that I ask for. Next Sunday is our 7th month together! He is just wonderful and sweet and lovely. I think the spirit of happiness is in the air. I can hear my hall mates yelling (but what’s new?) and laughing gleefully. I’m happy that everyone is happy. I must say though that I will not be going to see my family this Thanksgiving. I like the reaction on people’s faces when I say that. They are surprised, wondrous, and overall shocked that I will be here by myself. And I must say, even if I happen to be here by myself (versus getting to see my lovely), I think that I would manage just fine. I’ll simply occupy myself with activities such as reading, writing, painting, or playing the piano. I say that now, but I really don’t know how I would feel if I did have to be here in the dorms by myself. I would appreciate the solitude, though. I don’t seem to get that much around here, and perhaps that is the reason why I miss home. Yes, I look forward to being alone sometimes. The quietness and peacefulness moves and inspires me.

I’m thankful that my honey will be with me this coming week. I can’t be anymore grateful to have him in my life. Maybe he is the reason why I am okay being by myself sometimes; he makes me feel at home wherever I am.

I see Suri Cruise, offspring of Tom and Katie Cruise, in the media spotlight week after week. Whether it is her fashion for the week, or the event she’s attended with her parents, Suri is already exposed to the Hollywood industry. She has traveled to more places than many people do in their lifetime. Her life of travels and fashions is enough for anyone to be jealous of.

Panning the camera now is to Violet Affleck, daughter of Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner. Although she is a part of Hollywood just as much as Suri because of her famous parents, Violet is raised in a much warmer atmosphere, playing with kids her age, going with her mom to the grocery store, and interacting with regular people. She is brought up in what one would call a typical childhood. Toys and friends and mommy and daddy – what more could a child want?

Although both children are in the spotlight, Violet is kept out of it and placed into a playground instead. Will she grow up to have moral values and appreciation for having been raised like a regular kid? Suri has everything and can have anything she wants. With the idea of having access to everything, I would think she will grow up to be a spoiled child who has no respect because the world is at her feet. She was fed with a silver spoon (and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was real silver!).

These are Hollywood’s children. They were born into the industry and if they decide to stay with it as they age, they will already be fortunate and take care of by connections. I often wonder how a child in so much attention so often will grow up to be when they are older. These children would not have to work as hard as someone else who didn’t have their parents already in the spotlight. Would they appreciate what they have later on? How can they? They have nothing to compare their lives to.

I think of Tori Spelling, daughter of late Aaron Spelling, TV. Mogul. The only reason why she was in the cast of the original cast of 90210 was because her father was the creator. There were many lashes at her because many felt she had no talent and basically just lucked out. I don’t have that much respect for these offspring as I would to someone who had to work their way up to stardom, such as JoJo, the singer whose parents were drug addicts living on welfare and food stamps. She was nationally recognized in the television show, Kids Say the Darndest Things. She went on to Oprah, and America’s Most Talented Kids. The way she got her talent was by singing everyday with her mother while they worked in the house, no lessons or anything.

A case of a child star is Lindsay Lohan who first got started in The Parent Trap. For some time, she was rehabilitated for her drug use and spiraling out of control behavior due to excessive drinking. Should kids be exposed to such a (now vulgar) place like Hollywood? Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen have grown up in front of the camera. Mary-Kate was treated for her anorexia a few years back, and they are sometimes the talk of the town in regards to their partying ways and drinking, smoking, and unhealthy lifestyle.

I now think of my humble background. I never had anything I wanted, and it was those rare occasions like, Christmas or my birthday, that I would receive a gift, like a doll. My mother taught me the value of a dollar and I thank her for making me appreciate my job and hard earned money. She also instilled in me the value of education and how that is the ticket to a better life. Although the children of Hollywood are very fortunate and comfortable, I appreciate and feel humbled by my upbringing so when I go off and make a down payment on my house one day, I’ll understand the value of something earned.

It’s been raining this whole weekend, and I can’t imagine anything more beautiful. The sound of the rain was soothing and although it was raining hard, everything was calm and peaceful. I realized, this is the reason why I am here…to see change. The ground was covered and I was soaked as I went outside for a couple of minutes. I couldn’t be more appreciative. I’m thankful for the rain.

It must be autumn because I can feel that soft mood and hovers in the air when the season comes around. So melancholic, so sweet, so lovely. I’m finally at home. As I look through the window at the pelting rain, I can’t imagine anything more pleasant than being in my cozy room, bundled up with a book or a journal. Off I go now, wandering through my thoughts, sifting, sorting, exploring.

As I layed in bed, I could only hear the rain hitting the ground. The pattering of the rain puts me at ease; 700 miles away from home and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I can’t go back home anymore. I’ve realized that this is what I have been missing… I’ve been missing life.

I’m sitting here listening to George Winston and Sarah McLachlan and I think of how some things in life could be so beautiful. Life is so beautiful, while I, my humble self, don’t deserve to see or hear something so lovely. I’m such in awe how much life amazes me, bestowing its natural gifts. How can I ask for more? I can’t ask for more.

4:00 am, I am up reading. There’s this feeling of solitude being alone at that time of morning, something that I can’t have any other time. There’s this sense of peace that brings me joy and love, ultimately filling me with life. Here is when I reflect and wonder, here is when I let life’s trouble escape, here is when I the quietness fill me up. I don’t ask for much, and I don’t need much. I am a simple woman.

I am in peace, and I am filled with love which surrounds me. I am home.

It’s been a month since I moved to San Francisco, and I had forgotten why I was so eager to move away from home. The second I arrived here, it felt as if doors and dreams were opening in front of me. I remembered how I felt I needed to be here, I wanted to be in this amazing city; it didn’t matter how I would get here. I was driven by dreams to pursue my writing and ultimately get away from distractions at home.

A certain song or picture would in a way, encourage me to remember the past and thus, relive the spirit. Although this makes me nostalgic at times, I don’t regret leaving home. I don’t regret leaving anybody. I think those close to me are doing well without my presence; I should know — I regularly keep in touch with them.

So what’s the problem? Why am I writing this? In many ways, I feel relieved that I have finally moved on from everything that I used to know. It’s not like I won’t be coming back home, but I feel a small sense of guilt in saying that I don’t miss home. No, I don’t think I will be going back home to stay. I’ll be traveling around through the years, which will hopefully enable me to become more open to myself.

Some could argue that, it doesn’t necessarily matter where you are – home is everywhere. If you are okay no matter where you are, life is within you. You are in peace. Good. I’ve yet to find that place and until I do, I shall be wandering about, living my own life.

As I run alongside the lake most evenings, I think about how I’m finally here in the big city. I’ve never told anyone that the sole reason I came up here was to work on my writing; I always knew that I felt empty. I hope to improve not by anyone’s standard necessarily, but more so for myself. I don’t think I should stick to any guidelines too strictly, but close enough that my writings aren’t frustrating to read. There are times here when I feel that I am losing sight of my goals, such as not being motivated enough to keep working. All I need is some time to set my mind straight again, and to put my emotional stability in check. Then I’ll be right on track again.

I don’t miss home. I’m sorry. But I shouldn’t be sorry. I didn’t feel that there was anything for me there. I loved it, but now I left it. I will say though, that I miss the familiarity and the community feeling of it. I miss some types of people, some groups of people, some individuals, but I feel a sense of comfort that everyone is coming along, because life goes on.

I’m doing well, by the way. I have everything settled here, including me. But, it won’t be long until I move away to Oregon in a couple of years. I also appreciate that I have a sense of safety, knowing that I can come home anytime I need to. A plane ticket will put me on a flight back home. Though, I don’t think I will need it anytime soon.

I’ve kept journals for years for the sole purpose of becoming a better writer. I figure, the more I write, the better I will get. The thing is, writing doesn’t always come easy. Should it? I skim through my journals and find old poetry and rambling thoughts. What use is this for me? I don’t have a definition of “good” set in my mind, but at least I want to be satisfied in my choice of words and sentence structures.

No writing of mine is ever good enough for me. I was part of my school’s literary magazine yet I decided not to publish any of my writings, although I knew that I had complete access to do so. I think every writer is their own worst critic. I’ve always believed, though, that if your writing is honest and from your heart, that’s the best it can be.

I am originally from San Diego and moved to San Francisco to get away from distractions. My goal was to work – read, write, write, write. So far, I don’t feel motivated to write anything, but I think that’s an excuse for that I’m not working hard enough. So far, I feel frustrated at everything and everyone. So far, I’m a bit disappointed that I am not pushing myself to keep on writing, consistently and persistently.

So what exactly do I write about? That’s hard to say; I mainly scribble my thoughts on observations that I see, how I feel when I see it, though lately the pages in my journal seem like a rant. I’m sure they are all about how I can’t seem to get my words together. Don’t be surprised. In fact, I am thinking about trashing this blog in a second.

Despite my pessimistic attitude, I am hopeful that I will improve. As long as I have changed and improved since the beginning, I guess that is all that I ask for. Hopefully this blogging experience will aid me in my endeavor. Maybe I’ll even get back to poetry.