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Thursday, October 28, 2010

Taking the Initiative

Life sometimes deals you cards, that you really just should toss to the side. I know, you feel wrong, like every opportunity should be taken and followed through. You want to push to get the best out of every experience, and sometimes giving up just doesn't seem like an option. But what if the best option is not doing anything at all...letting something just slide by you.

For example, a sexy man...named Roberto in this story,or if you are a dude reading this her name can be Bridgette...walks into your life. S/He flirts, s/he touches, s/he winks in your general direction, you return the gestures of interest in hope that Roberto (Bridgette) will one day carry you into the room and make you scream his/her name. But that never happens, because Roberto (Bridgette) is shy, and can't make a move to save his/her life. So your initial reaction is to chase after Roberto (Bridgette), make sure you finish what s/he started and was unable to carry through. Let me just say that this move is not always the wisest.

However!!! If Roberto (Bridgette) is a top ten hunk/babe of muscle then please don't let him/her slip out of your fingers, hold on to him/her, chase his/her sexy ass in circles until s/hes too tired to run away.

But if you can realized s/hes not your type, not your norm, and you were just looking for someone to pass the time--stop and think it through. Chasing after him/her might make you someone you're not, and what do you get from it? Either an emotionless hook up, or a cracked heart. But walking away can hold so much more for you....walking away means you know more about yourself. You're strong, and independent, you have poise and priorities...and then when Roberto (Bridgette) wants you again after you move'll be able to smirk and walk away knowing that S/HE missed out on a great opportunity...not you.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Exploitation of Intelligence

Intelligence should not be tested, it should not be measured, and it should not be graded. Intelligence is an individual's ability to think in a certain light, that differs from another thought process. My intelligence lies within other realms than that of my classmate next to me, and that's ok. While he sits and thinks of worldly problems, rain drops, and cake...I ponder the ideas of self concept, cardigans, zumba, and sexual frustration. Although our ideas and thoughts differ, it does not mean one of us has a higher intelligence level than the other. It DOES NOT mean he is smarter than me, or the other way around.

I hope one day, everyone will respect their intelligence. If you say that already exists, look around you see the girl that says "I don't know" every time she speaks her mind, how about the man who mumbles his opinion in class, or the sorority girl that considers her self a dumb blond. They don't respect their own intelligence, because others have constantly told them different. They had a teacher that didn't respect their own individual thoughts. Maybe they turned in paper after paper, and instead of receiving constructive criticism their teacher only told them they were wrong. I want everyone to respect their mind, believe in the power that they can become something bigger, or do something bigger, or believe in something bigger.

I guess learning to embody one's intelligence is hard thing to do. When you're told for so long that you aren't smart, you aren't thinking correctly, you aren't worth your begin to believe it. Take the time to listen to someone, and really experience the way they talk, the words they use, the passion behind their thoughts. Their passion for everything they feel and think, the way they are able to convey who they are, is an invitation for self discovery as well. When you accept a person for all that they are, you too begin to accept yourself. This self acceptance will then fuel the revolt against pity and hatred and disgust in the world. Start the change within yourself, become who you are without worrying that others won't accept you. Your intelligence matters. It is important, and you must feel your words are worth saying.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Scramble Blasphamy

For the past couple of days i have sat in front of my computer, opened my blog, and then just stared at the empty blog posting page. I haven't had anything to write about lately, and now i know why. I find that i can only write when I am writing to someone, or for someone, and my thoughts lately have been rather selfish. Everything is about how i'm feeling, how my day is, how i look, how i want to feel, what i want to eat...and I am really sick of it.

I'm not sure what this post will be today, maybe a poem/letter/tribute/inspirational piece of something. I'm just going to let everything flow out of me. maybe if I write down all of the selfishness, it'll go away.

Expression. The art of explaining oneself. I lack vocal expression. I lack artistic expression, I am nothing but facial expressions. A smile, a squint, a funny face. Hello my name is Anna, and my face is the window to my soul. But he can't see my face, he can't see the pain that i feel with him being away. Maybe it's a good thing.If he saw how much I missed him...i don't think he'd be ok with leaving me again and i want him to grow. I wish him well, and I love him, and i need to express that to him.

Dear Friends,
I thank you for being always there. Always being there. I know i can depend on you, because I have learned to accept your help and kindness, I hope i am able to do the same for you. My words of advice come from deep within me, and the fact that you take the time to listen to them means more than you can know. SO thank you friends, for being a support system that never falls.

eyes meet in the crowded room
it hurts to think of our past
you know the story
you're the main character
its not a bed time story,
or a classic,
or a thriller.
its not a story worth telling
so why did i write it?
Our eyes meet in the crowded room
and you smile at me
but i dont understand
what is it you want
i cant go back to that
i cant move forward either
this story i've written is the same every time you turn the page
i have no place to go,
until i rewrite the ending.

Tomorrow brings on a regular witty post, sorry for putting this out there...but its got to be done

Monday, October 11, 2010

“You feel like there's a little higher call that you're playing for. It takes away from the personal anxiety and makes it an inspirational thing.” Phil Garner

My inspiration; Nicki, Mrs. Duerk, Miss Andy.

Nicki: My little cousin, my favorite cousin, she's more than just a cousin, shes in most cases my best friend, and every reason i work hard at all i do. I'm not sure if she looks up to me, but in the off chance that she does, i refuse to be a bad example. I live my life the way i do for her. I hope she realizes how much she means to me, and how much i care about her. Inspiration doesn't have to come from someone doing amazing things, but it can come from someone being a genuine friend. That's what Nicki is in a nut shell, genuine. She never is anything other than the truth and everything you need in a person. Nicki is my inspiration to never become idol, and to always strive.

Mrs. Duerk; She's my old theatre teacher, my first theatre teacher, the woman who changed the rest of my life. I never had stepped on stage before her. i had never experienced my passion before her. its amazing how long i lived without realizing what i truly loved to do. Theatre is my future, and she did that for me. When it got hard and i was ready to quit, she didn't let me, she made me push on. When she was angry because I messed up, she just made me want to prove her wrong. I have new theatre teachers now, but the dedication she instilled within me, and the amount of belief she has for me will forever drive me to my goal.

Miss Andy: She taught me dance, for a very long time. She passed away my freshman year, esophagus cancer. there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about how beautiful of a person she was. She taught me more than how to dance, she taught me about passion and striving for a goal, and being comfortable in my own skin. the first time i stepped into a dance studio after she passed away, I felt a cold wind pass over me, I couldn't dance, not without her there. I fell onto the floor of that studio, in a small heap and cried. I cried until i had nothing left in me, my body quivered, my mind was exhausted. I knew Miss Andy would never want me to feel this way, I had to learn to overcome the loss, so I stood..and danced. I danced and cried, and it hurt so much but it was the beginning of becoming stronger. I knew at that point to get anywhere, I had to be strong enough to challenge the hardest of moments. Miss Andy captured a part of my soul and made it bigger and capable to handle all that was going to come my way. She was the beginning of everything that became my life.

My inspiration list goes on and on and on...but these selective few have been sch a large part of me, they belong on their own page.

Sunday, October 10, 2010


As the lights dim in the room, my hand finds his, our fingers intertwining never before fitting so right. My head rests slightly on his shoulder, his breath in time with mine. His lips are softly placed on my forehead, they linger, make me forget the broken promises of the past. I gaze up to have my eyes meet his, hazel in color they shine brighter than ever letting myself get lost in a moment of false emotion, but none of that matters not when I’m in his arms. I want nothing more than our lips to become more than just external pieces of our selves. One simple kiss turns into eternity of hope and love and belonging. I press closer trying to get myself as close as possible never wanting to experience life without him beside me. I don’t want this to be the last time I see this, I feel this, I won’t let this end because nothing is ever better that way, i love everything he does and will never go anywhere. I love him...I’ll love him forever.

As she wipes away the blackened tears she finds herself still in his arms, she pushes away ready to escape and leave everything he ever said behind her, ready to act as though those words he said never existed. Her body shivers at the fact that never again will she go crying to him, never again will she hear I love you, never again will she be what he need . She still loves him, she said she always would and she meant it. He walks off the front porch of her house with a flood of tears streaming down his face. He keeps his back to her so he can't see the mess he created. He still loves her.

Weeks and months fly by, her head still in a daze, nothing is done without thinking of him and she can't seem to wipe her heart of those previous months. As he tosses his graduation hat in the air she contemplates rushing the field being taken into his arms and smiling thanking the heavens above for this boy who is everything she's been praying for. Instead she slowly hops the fence and strolls to the newly gone seniors. Their eyes meet and she smiles gives a thumbs up and keeps forward wondering when he will ever stop being the one thing she wants the most. The rest of the night means nothing.

She sits upon the moving boxes stacked in her room, looking at the walls that bear pictures of her life. The one that catches her eye isn’t where she is perched upon the lap of her favorite grandfather, or the one that shows her friends all lined up trying to accomplish a stance only Charlie’s Angels should be allowed to do. It isn’t the picture of her former best friend that holds so much underlying tension and pain beneath the glass, nor is it the picture of her, silent, eyes slightly closed, reminiscing in black and white. It is the picture of him and her, and she can’t help but shed a tear thinking back to that day, and how nothing could ever amount to what she felt. As she stares into that picture, she realizes she was foolish to think something so na├»ve could out last all the other memories that surround her. And as the last of her childhood life is packed away and she begins to move on, and packs away every thought she ever had of him.

Deep into her studies, nothing comes to mind often other than math equations, lab schedules, essay prompts, and Saturday night parties. On occasion a guy catches her eye, throws her a quick smirk, and continues on. Nothing goes beyond flirtation and a steamy quick paced fool around. She has stories to tell to friends, and they all laugh and congratulate her on each accomplishment, but something is always missing. The connection, the passion, the comfort, and the memories she packed away. Before long, every emotion pours into her being, flowing through her entirety, energizing her. Lights beam down on her differently than before. Everyone seems brighter, people seem to laugh more, guys seem more attractive. There is a new bounce in her step, and although she is no closer to finding romance, she no longer misses him, or wants him, or needs him. But she does thank him for allowing herself the possibility to fall in love all over again.

*Pieces of this story are taken from real life experiences, however not all events have taken place.*


I have come to realize, many of you may not know a single thing about me, and that's ok, relationships take time to build. I figured it was time for a post all about me, the ins, some of the outs, and after this will be coming the usual poetic shit, and some stories!

Hi my name is Anna, I’m 18, Hispanic, 5'4", and no I don’t have the perfect body. I'm a strong catholic who occasionally makes mistakes. I'm always determined, I care too much and I’m a hopeless romantic who doesn't believe in perfect moments. I love to laugh and have sarcastic arguments. I believe cuddling is more important than sex could ever be. I’m afraid of getting hurt. I cling to people because I’m afraid of being forgotten. College is my playground, there are so many doors opening, and I want to go through them all. I love my friends, old and new. Family and friends are what matter most to me, they are my driving force. I like helping others, because I feel in a small way I’ve changed the world. There is no longer a necessity to hide who you are, and I like who I am. My smile is genuine, my laugh too loud, and my belief in everyone never ending. I give second chances, but never third. My trust is easily gained, as long as you do the same for me. I know what I want; I know how to get there, I’m not sure if I can. My biggest fear is not fitting in somewhere. I watch foreign films because they make me feel worldly. I want a relationship that requires minimal drama and texting, tons of laughing, and surprise. I am an independent, jovial, everyday girl who happens to enjoy the life she lives. And my favorite song is Over the Rainbow, accompanied by a ukulele.

I am Anna.

THIS is me.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Pretty in pink

Pretty. This video made me cry. How true it is that sometimes those closest to us dont see what they do, and you become angry...when really they dont look at you that way at all. Pretty. I realized that those I call pretty, are beautiful and those i call beautiful are fake. I have a skewed perception of the world, with no one to blame but myself. Pretty. Men can be pretty too...i'm just not sure what that means in the whole scheme of my mind.