My View

She had long, wavy, auburn hair. It did not shine, but it did not bore. Her hair almost touched her hips. The wind blew caressing her tresses as she tamed them with her small fingers. Short bitten fingernails. She had a tattoo on her left wrist. Something a young person would get. I wonder what the story behind it is. As she ran her fingers through her hair attempting to fix it, I can see it was not her natural hair color because of the dark roots contrasting with the rest of her hair. Dark like soil and then a cascading red brown. She has not done her hair in a while. She probably didn’t do it this morning since it is tousled and messy. Some strands wavy, and some strands a knotted curl. Maybe she was a messy person.
She’s walking towards a bench at school. Her legs short and thick. Not so thick that she belongs in a hip hop music video, but thick enough to fill her shorts. She had bruises and scratches on her legs. Little kid legs. They also seemed dry, neglecting cream, but they seemed soft to the touch. She had worn down converse. They were dirty, but she didn’t seem to care. She wore a Chili Cook-Off shirt that she cut up to look like a muscle t shirt. I can see it in the cut sleeves. Her arms were a golden tan. The color looked fresh which means she must have been out in the sun recently. Her shoulders were staring to peel. As she sat down, she smelled like warm wood, vanilla, and chocolate. I can also smell the Dove scent from her deodorant. It’s a hot day and I can see freckles of sweat on her skin. She wiped her forehead.
Her eyes were plain, and naked. Almond shaped and small. Small, but they appear to be big at the same time. Her eyelashes were short and pointed straight out. Brown eyes, but when the sun gleamed into them, they let out this milk chocolate. You can see the dullness in her eyes. She would rather be somewhere else than here. Dark eyebrows that complimented her face. They were tamed and seemed freshly done. A pink undertone highlighting around them.
Her nose had a protruding bone. Not so much that took away from her face, but noticeable enough to give her character. She had freckles on her nose, three at least, and few spaced out ones on her cheek. Her cheek bones were there but not enough to give her an edge. She seemed almost cherubic and innocent. She has not been worn down by enough experience. Her skin had blemishes. She had some red marks on her cheeks, and you can see she tried hiding them with her powder. Her face seemed freshly tan as well, especially her forehead. She had the right amount of lip. It looked friendly, and not uptight. They seem chapped and bitten. Her two front teeth peek out of her opened lips.
Crossing her legs, she took out a bag of nacho cheese chips and a Dr. Pepper. I can hear the fizz let out of the can and hear her gulping it down. She looked around and seemed to escape into her thoughts. She had this lost look, but knew where she was. I wonder what she’s thinking about. Her almond eyes followed everyone that walked by. I wonder what she thought about them. She finished her snack and took her phone. She began to type with this light in her face. Maybe her thoughts? Is she writing about me like I’m writing about her? She will not look up. Only at times when it feels like she is staring at me.

What is she writing?

Sun, Rain, and Rainbows

It was a bright day, and I was with one of my closest friends. I took out my red cup and as I tilted it, I poured the ice cold Jamaican beer. The foam led out a loud fizz as it slowly rose. I tasted it and laid back down on the chair. We were close to the beach. Once we arrived and finally touched ground, the scorching sun showered us with its rays. I can feel the skin cancer penetrate into me. A beautiful, and dangerous thing. My skin was hot and I could smell the salt water. We were here. The burning sand against the soles of our feet made it hard to walk. The muscles in my legs tightening up as we moved forward, and I could feel a sweat trickle down my forehead. Finally, reaching the perfect spot, we laid out the blanket and all our bags. My friend poured us some more beer and took out a container of watermelon. Fresh, sweet, and juicy. The watermelon took over my taste buds with its simple sugars.
We ran to the water laughing and slightly buzzed from the alcohol. The cold water crashing into our hot skin making us wince, scream, and laugh. Two different temperatures complimenting themselves. Dipping my whole body slowly into the water, I had goosebumps and the pores of my skin automatically felt fresh. The waves were strong and relentless. The body of the wave coming over my head as I tightly close my eyes and let it slap me. I sink into the body of water as I feel the force of the wave move forward and disappear. I rise with my hair tangled and white foam all around me. Strong waves always leave the white foam, or so I think.
The inside of my nose slightly burns. My lips taste salty, and my eyes sting. The sun is getting stronger and I can see the rawness of my shoulders. Floating and enjoying life, my friend and I talk about the world. School, the future, boys, ideas, and things we’d like to do. An hour and a half has passed and our bodies felt like spaghetti. Reaching the sand and our blanket we die into peace and tranquility. We drink a little more, talk a little more, and rest a whole lot. Our legs ache, and our skin is cooked. The sky starts to darken and everyone gets up to leave. The burning sun turns cold and gloomy. Rain pokes the skin of people that leave trace that there once was a sun.
We ran out of the beach, our legs crying and our muscles enlarging from all the work. The sky is angry and it feels like the end of the world. But, like everything in life, the storm passes and a shed of light peeks out of the clouds. Studying the sky I found a beautiful thing. There were two rainbows cascading over all of us. Dark clouds took over the background, but these two rainbows colored the black and white. It was a beautiful day and I enjoyed every second of it. Even if the brightness temporarily left, you will basically find a rainbow. The brightness will come again.

Jack Daniel’s Texts Me

You think of me at the end of your whiskey. You think of me at the end of your bottle, and the clock is creeping on 3AM. I wake up to your messages in the morning, because it so happens I was not around when you wanted me. I write back. It’s 3PM and my inbox has been untouched by you. Read and ignored, I figured. I wonder what you wanted to tell me. I guess you’re not around when I want you. I’d have to wait until you’re swimming at the end of your glass.

I wish you’d always carry whiskey around with you.

Third Wheel

You know what sucks? When you’re a third wheel.

“It’ll be fun!” Shut up… *sad face*
I hear the kissing noises, the intimate whispers, the inside jokes that couples have, and the way they naturally distance themselves from the third wheel (me) as they fall into their own bubble of love. It’s sweet, but not when i’m the single and bitter about love bitch. Third wheeling sucks and it sucks even more when they get lovey dovey. What do you do? Where do you look? How do you not look awkward and lonely? How do I pretend I did not just see that…
It’s those moments where you want to run away or cut their tongues off. It just sucks. My god these hormones are driving me wild. I never realized how much I want someone to be there in that sense. I don’t need a guy to give meaning to my life, but can’t deny that I yearn for a little lovin. I’m human dammit. I want someone to hold my hand, give me a stupid flower that’ll die either way, buy me an ice cream cone, kiss me with the intensity of a dramatic spanish soap opera, and just think i’m the hottest piece of ass ever. You know, think i’m beautiful and shit. Isn’t that nice? Yeah, it’s super nice.

Third wheeling sucks. I feel like a cock block. By mistake I spoke when they were about to kiss… It looked romantic. Oops. haha.

Come Back Home

Loss is the most painful thing of all. The loss of a loved one is a pain so deep that it never fully heals. It will be forgotten temporarily, but never completely gone. Loss is difficult when someone is taken by the dark ends of life. Death does not ask for permission. Someone should have taught it some manners.

I was attached to the hip with my uncle. He lived with us and his room was right next to mine. I would always be a pesky little kid trying to hang out with him. He was very young so it didn’t feel like he was an uncle to me, but like a brother. My mom had me young so he was around 12. He would always bug me and pour cold water on my head. I’d always fight him and tell him mean things that a little girl thought were the best come backs. I always called him Dumbo like the Disney Elephant because it had the word, ‘dumb.’
He was like a cruel older brother. He told me that whenever I was mad I had no one to blame but myself. So he taught me to slap myself when I was furious. He would obviously push my buttons so I could go off the deep end, and yes, slap the fuck out of myself. When I caught on to the joke I was so angry, but now that I think of it, it’s pretty funny. I most probably looked psycho. We would always play pranks on each other. We became inseparable.
My parents divorced when I was five years old so I would only see my dad every other weekend, and my mom was working in retail at the time and the hours took a lot of home time. My grandma and grandpa looked after me as well as my uncle. In a way, to me he was my mom and dad as well. We just spent so much time together. He would play video games with me, help me with my math homework, watch movies, order in pizza when grandma made food that was about to talk to us… we bonded. To me he was Albert Einstein. He was the first person to introduce Einstein to me and he just became… Einstein. My uncle was a math whiz. He was such a smart guy, but even when I was little, I always knew he was a bit sad inside. But never mind that. I respected him. He spent time with me and talked to me. He knew my favorite EVERYTHING. More than what my parents knew. He communicated with me. I relied on him for so much and he would always tell me he was not going to be around forever. That was impossible to me. Little did I know.
The last day I was with him I was in a bad mood. I wish I wasn’t. I didn’t talk to him enough that day. The last words he ever told me before he left the house were, “I’ll be black.” Meaning he would be back later. He was a jokester. A guy with a good sense of humor. I loved that about him. I still remember the last look I got from him. He never came back, though.
I woke up around the time of his car accident. I woke up that night and thought of him, and I still believe it’s because of the close connection we had. I don’t care how cheesy it sounds… I WAS ATTACHED TO MY UNCLE. It’s like I felt it. I loved him. Love him. I went back to sleep with no idea what was waiting in the morning. No idea that cops were going to come and shatter… everything. I was only 12 and losing the best person in my life to me. Someone I was attached to. I can’t stress it enough. We lived together. I saw him everyday.
It feels like 2006 on certain days. Sometimes, I forget he’s not here. In my mind, I think that he’s going to help me with my math homework like he always has, but then I remember. I HONESTLY forget. I remember our movie nights, and how he was the only person to play video games with me. I can’t eat a brownie without thinking of him because he had an obsession with them. A week before he left he told me he was going to buy me this chocolate fudge ice cream. It torments me that I still don’t know what ice cream he was raving about that he was never able to buy, and I was never able to try.
I didn’t cry because my dad couldn’t make it to my 15’s party. I cried because my uncle couldn’t see me turn 15. Dancing in the arms of my grandpa, I couldn’t believe he wasn’t here. I forget. All I wanted to hear from him was, “Happy Birthday, shortie.”

When I was small, and I watched a movie where someone died, I never understood why someone would be so affected by how they spent their last moments with their lost loved one. I would think they were stupid for not taking account ALL the moments they spent with that specific person while they were alive. But, honestly, it’s hard. I think of all the amazing moments me and my uncle had when he was alive, but I always wish that I spent more time with him that day. Why? I don’t know. It just hurts. Death kills the person in the accident. Death kills the people affected by the accident, but still keeps them alive. Trapped with a small wound that can be bandaged, but won’t stop the seeping. Appreciate everyone in your life. Show them you love them. Be grateful.

I love you, Payito. You’d be 31. Happy Birthday.

Dusty High School Nostalgia

I had a half empty bottle of windex on my right hand. I had a spongy roll of paper towels on my left. This messy 18 year old has had enough. Yes, this is happening mother.
It’s time to clean.

Cleaning is like an adventure. Discovering candy wrappers that have hidden in the corners of your room, long lost socks accumulated with the dusts under your bed, asking yourself why your red bra is chillin’ on top of your lamp, and then you find high school. I find notes and pictures that take me back to the four years I wanted to get over with. I swear, there were no tears in my eyes but my insides were having an emotional melt down. 99.9% of the time while cleaning you will find nostalgia. It can be hanging out in your closet or just sitting there inside your drawer. The one you never open. The one that is a bitch to open.
I was rummaging through all these high school mementos and I think back to every moment i’ve had there. It’s so sad. How time just flies. I am freshly out of high school, class of ’12, but now I understand. Now I understand all you old people. I miss high school and being 15. I mean, i’m still young, but it’s hitting me. Next month i’ll be 19 and living my LAST teenage year. Time is moving fast and i’m already being nostalgic about my 20’s and they haven’t even happened. UGH I hate cleaning. THIS IS WHAT IT DOES.
Anyway, I was just looking through all these pictures and I never realized how amazing my moments were.

I shall enter memory lane…

I remembered my freshmen year being the best out of all four years. The perverted jokes, the new friends, the feeling of maturing because now we all had separate desks. THE INDEPENDENCE OF HAVING SEPARATE DESKS DAMMIT. It was beautiful, scary, and exciting.
I started to curse. A lot.
I remember my first high school crush and how he didn’t want me until I completely lost interest in him, and I was a total bitch. REALLY, LIFE?
When I realized the guy I liked all along was one of my closest friends and he liked me too. Unfortunately, he moved to fucking Narnia when I came to the realization. REALLY, LIFE?
I remember having that first friend who came to me with all these sex stories. I then realized that people really DO have sex in high school. My innocence… gone.
RELATING TO HOLDEN CAULFIELD.
Reading the Scarlet Letter. I loved it, though.
First concerts.
Summer reading. The options were horrible books by the way.
Laughing. Endless laughter.
People screaming shenanigans in the hallways at 7AM.
People actually brought you things when it was your birthday. The lunch machine even tells you happy birthday when you put your lunch number.
Talking shit in the bathroom.
Hating my body. Insecurities like never before.
Witnessed my first bloody fight while eating pizza in the cafeteria. Apparently the girl wanted the other girl to back off her man…
Skipping classes to walk around the halls. A real rebel.
Losing friends.
Having my first kiss with a guy I totally did not like. I was lonely. His breath tasted like weed. I am still disgusted.
The first time I smoked weed.
The first time a boy made me feel special. But, things happen. REALLY, LIFE?
My best friend took her moms car and we went for a joy ride. My neck was hurting for a week… Awesome!
Learning to drive. Near death experiences…
Getting my first tattoo when I turned 18.
Sleepless nights doing homework I left for last minute.
Copying homework. Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do.
When I didn’t go to Prom, aha.
Never had a high school sweetheart.
Realization that I get bored of people.
Realization that I enjoy my company the best.
Realization that I still get lonely and want someone to hold my hand and buy me flowers. *cries*
Easy classes. Easy A’s. Except math. I’ve always been bad at math.
Math for virtual school. The struggle…
The thought of me not graduating because I suck at math. The tears.
Getting caught sneaking out of school. I suck at being bad. I gave it a try. Thank God my record is angelic so I didn’t get in trouble.
Having a serious case of SENIORITIS.
When I rented a room with my friends at the beach and went to all the prom after parties.
Getting FUCKED up. So much fun.
Having an emotional meltdown with my best friend once our high went down. So many I love you’s. Everywhere.
Graduating. The bitter sweet “fuck yeah!”

I miss you, high school. I did some dumb stuff. Now, I actually have to grow up… A LITTLE. I’m still 18, bitches. It’s like I have alcohol naturally running through my bloodstream. I’m obviously going to make some irresponsible decisions. That’s the beauty of being young. Young, foul mouthed, and fun.

I’m gonna go eat a thousand cookies.

Selfish Days

I love having alone time. I don’t find it boring or anything. I am peaceful and content when I am basking in my own solitude. It annoys me when my mom asks me, “You must be bored, huh?” No, man. I’m actually awesome. I’m listening to music, watching endless movies on Netflix, googling things, reading blogs, and reblogging Tumblr pictures. I’m having a pretty jolly fucking time. I even start trying home made facials which I enjoy. Egg on my face? Honey all over my hair? I am so in. Just pour my whole kitchen on me if that’s what would make me feel and look beautiful. I always find something to do no matter how simple and small it may seem. It bothers me when someone doesn’t get it.
Spending some days alone with yourself is good because you discover things about you. I mean this is how I discovered I loved writing. It’s just you and… you. I can’t even explain it the way my mind is putting it. If you know what I mean, you know what I mean. It just bothers me when someone can’t be alone and they demand someone to hang out with them. I get it, sometimes you want to hang with friends, or you’re the ultimate social butterly. But, what the fuck. I love hanging out with people, I CAN BE A SOCIAL BUTTERFLY, but it sucks when someone can’t be with themselves. They can’t be alone and need someone there by their side all the time. “I’m bored. I want a boyfriend. What do I do.” Yada yada yada. I DON’T UNDERSTAND YOU.
Home alone? Party! Without the people… Do I sound like a total loner right now?
Being with yourself is peaceful. It’s just you and everything about you. No dealing with anything else. At least two days a week of alone time to keep the sanity. I fucking love my alone time so don’t bug me. I also love it because I get to control everything. Oh, you want to watch action/drama? Fuck you, i’m watching a chick flick. Why? Because you’re not here. I’m alone and that’s the beauty of it. I get to decide whatever I want without being a considerate and polite human being. I sound so mean… but it’s the truth! It’s your own selfish day.

Anyway, I read that pouring conditioner + honey all over my head will make my hair look like God…

Good thing i’m alone so I can look like a freak with myself.

Simple Tuesday

So far, today has been a very simple boring day. I still love it though. I woke up, and though I may not have followed through with the plan of me running, I did wake up to a very special person in my life sleeping next to me. My beautiful little dog. Yes, dogs are people too! It’s so dumb but I am in love with my dog. Who isn’t in love with their pet? Just waking up to my Princess is enough. Bad day or good, that’s the first good thing of any of my days.
Next, I received an email around 9AM from Chili’s. I got a coupon for free chips and queso! My heart did cartwheels and became a full out gymnastics bitch. I love food. I love chips and queso. I love chips and queso from Chili’s. I love you, Chili’s. You don’t know how happy you made me with that coupon. It was kinda embarrassing that I went to the computer lab at school JUST to print that coupon. I’m a broke fat bitch right now. You understand?
Later, my mom gave me gas money. Thank you.
Then, I came to my english class early for the first fucking time in years. It was a very slack class. Easy A.
Now, I am home in my comfy clothes and eating pizza with cheese sticks and nuggets. I’ve had two Capri Suns because we all know one is NEVER enough.
In the later future, like in twenty minutes, I will catch up on the third and fourth episode of Bates Motel. That show has got me fucking hooked.

Grateful for having such a nice day.

Self Improvement

I always say i’m going to improve myself. That I will wake up every morning and go out for a run as well as stop wearing the same converse I wear everyday. I tell myself i’ll do my hair as well as go get a manicure and pedicure. Hey, maybe i’ll finish some assignments for school that i’ve totally ignored. Math homework?! Count me in! The thing is I never do and I end up feeling like a big blub. I’m just lazy and i’d rather sleep in ’till 12pm. Go to school with unbrushed hair and groggy eyes. Taking the same converse out and about with my very naked short nails. Not understand a word my spanglish math teacher is saying. Just feel slow and not awesome the whole day. This is called sloth lifestyle and it is not okay. I don’t have enough of that natural beauty to be living like this OR a powerful left brain. I hate you, math. I need to start caring for myself.
So, I woke up today at 7AM with the intentions of going out for a morning run. A morning run to clear my mind and soul as well as the very disgusting pores in my skin. I wanted that runners high and glow.
I woke up, turned off my alarm, rolled over to look at my cute little pup sleeping next to me, then stared at the ceiling. Staring at the ceiling and thinking about my future and whether I should start that english research paper or do some math problems. Should I apply for a job at Publix? I need the dough for now and my car is the ultimate gas guzzler. Then, staring at the ceiling, I entered dreamland. The fan girl in me started thinking about T Mills well sculpted, large, tattooed hands holding me…
I didn’t run.
Reality sucks and living inside my head is way better. Reality is me in my pajamas wearing penguin socks looking like a slug on my bed. Reality is me breaking out and my jeans feeling a little too tight after all the junk I ate this weekend. But, in my head, I am a beautiful brunette with soap opera hair and naturally photoshopped looking skin. I strut in my sundress being the envy of every girl. Brains? Who needs them when i’m beautiful. T Mills is my boyfriend. And, yes, I made him settle down.
Point is I can’t keep living like this. It’s nice to day dream but I don’t want to be caught up in La La Land. Can’t have my head in the clouds forever. This is time to grow up. Coming of age.
I need to accept reality, and make my reality as amazing as a dream. I will run. And I will take care of all my college duties. Tomorrow…

I should work on my procrastination too.

My Cubicle

I’m inside this cubicle, and I don’t know what it is about cubicles, but it’s part of those little things that make me feel comfortable and content. It’s like a little home. I’m at my schools library studying for my philosophy test tonight.
I’m at that point in the note taking process where my hand just gives up. My words are becoming slanted and slightly cursive. I’m too lazy to make each word their own so I connected them all. I don’t even know if what I wrote are letters… I’m hungry and sleepy. But I love this cubicle. I don’t know what it is about cubicles. It’s like a little discrete cave where no one can know what you’re doing. It’s just you and whatever is in there with you.
It’s dumb but I fucking love cubicles. I feel like i’m repeating myself but i’m honestly just trying to discover why I find them so awesome.