Midnight Travels

Sitting in the midnight
Waiting for the storm
Looking out my window
Seeing nothing more

Sitting in the midnight
Enjoying the tune
Welling emotions in me
Seeing where they will go

Sitting in the midnight
Reflecting on life
Thinking about its beauty
Hoping never lose sight

Sitting in the midnight
Dreaming of the moon
Feelings washing over
Purifying heart

Sitting in the midnight
Waiting for the dawn
Looking out my window
Finding where it’s gone

Sitting in the midnight
Readying for the deep
Knowing the night is over
Coming to the sleep

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A Small Pause

I’ve come up on some small pauses in between the hustle and bustle my life has taken on. I wanted to take a moment to both see how far I have come and to see how much farther I must go.

One thing I must recognize is that without the help and support of others, I couldn’t have gotten this far, for that I am eternally grateful and in the same respect humbled. Life has a way of dishing out hard lessons and being a fan of knowledge; I have made sure how to take note.  I have set myself onto a path that I feel will bring about real and helpful change for the rest of my life, one that I could not have come to without the trials and tribulations of yesterday.

I plan to keep at what I have been doing, keeping busy with making myself a better, stronger, and well-rounded individual. It’s through learning about willpower, and discipline that I have been able to make more strides towards that goal. Creating healthy and robust habits to build the foundation for more success in the future.  I will get to where I want to go; the path is unknown, but the destination is something I will continue to chase.

There are my shortfalls, places where I know I can do better.  I try to be as self-aware as possible, but even that has its moments of obliviousness.  I am in a way trying to overcome, but I will need help.  So in that respect, let me know if there is some area I can do better in, and how you would suggest I do so.

It’s in these small moments, the pauses, which I can see both how far I have gone and how far I have left to go. I am in the middle of a journey, and I am learning every step of the way.  I stop to look at the beauty of the world around me, to take in all its treasures.  Soon I will have to get going again, for I am not yet done.

“We are travelers on a cosmic journey,stardust,swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share.This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.”
― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

Back To Basics – Beginning Of Writing Exercises

I have been reading a lot lately,  in doing so, I feel like I have been able to improve my writing prowess. That was until I started reading a book about writing. The book “A Sense Of Style” is an interesting read, gave me some important insight on the mechanics of writing. What I did realize in reading this book is that my grasp of the English language is subpar. It’s more like a parrot copying a phrase than actual understanding of language.  My ability to write well will be essential where I want to go in life and is a necessary for improving my prospects. So I decided that the only way to improve was to work at it. Go back to simple basic mechanics and work my way up.  My hope is to post different lessons I learn in engaging ways that will be both fun to read and thought-provoking. I will keep improving, and as time goes on, this creative space will be used as a record of how far I’ve come. Thank you for reading, and let me know any writing tips or tricks you may know.

Sky Cities

It was during high school that I found myself looking up more. This was particularly the case when I was leaving at 6:45 in the morning with my father and my mind felt like it wasn’t even on yet.  The drive made frequently let me imagine all the world above. Here is what I saw.

The reaching tendrils of light would always struggle to do the climb over the mountains in the distance. The sun pulled itself up using the giant floating white hand holds.  You can tell that it had to warm up because it would start off with fresh red and pinks before settling on yellow for the day.  Climbing slowly over the horizon, every day it had to do this, and every morning was a struggle.

The morning light woke up the clouds too, floating lifeless during the night.  When the sun illuminated the inner crevices, it was as if it powered on.  Whole cloud civilizations would awaken to resume the business it had before.

In some cloud, I could see the procession of the newly crowned monarch climb the brightened steps to become a representative to the gods above. The whole cloud embossed in gold in an uproar of celebrations, exploding as the lavish party carried on. There was a sense of joyousness and hope as the cloud grew larger and out of control as the festival went on.  The cloud would grow taller and move quickly across the sky to spread the great news of their empire.

In other clouds, I could see debris.  The clouds had the mighty heroes of old clashing. On the backs of mystical creatures, their swords would collide and scatter.  Warriors spread about fighting and dying in the cloud as it painted with both white and red lights.  Pieces of cloud coming apart as chaos ensued.  The battlefield would stretch for miles, and with each clash, another page to the story written. The conflict unknown but no hopes of ending this clash until one or both becomes nothing.

Small clouds sometimes would paint small portraits of snapshots in time.  Things like a man sitting in a comfy chair during the middle of the day while not wanting to go outside. Or a rabbit finding delicious grass to eat as it keeps its eyes out for predators.  Small scenes from the life that projected themselves into the skies above.

My favorite type of clouds looked as if they painted the sky.  Beautiful landscapes and scenes of nature. Fantastic rolling hill-scapes covered with grass and beautiful forests untouched by man. Seas and waves crashing on open shores, beating against the soft sand. Waterfalls and mountains were breaking free of their usual form to grow into even more spectacular forms. Speaking of peace which is unattainable within a city.  It’s as if using emotion as the medium to create.

These giant floating worlds, all unique, dwarf me in scale bringing the whole world into perspective. I remember going to school and imagine all the great things that are happening among the clouds. The sun would fight against the clouds, some were steadfast and kept their ground, but others faded away never to be seen again.  That’s why I like looking at the sky; I know I will always find something new.

Child Of The World

My sister and I were born as an amalgamation of an amalgamation.  Born unto parents who were combinations of two very different cultures and ethnicities.  Ironically the mix of cultures led to a weakening of a culture’s hold on our lives.  We lived at the crossroads of many different ways of life, which prompt us to learn many different things about many different people but not live fully one way. In its wake, it confused me about what I am and who I should I identify.  In some ways, I was washed clean of the burden that accompanies tradition and practice, but left on the barren shore of what was left.

There are no accounts that I say I am not American, though my level of patriotism is nothing to be envied. Living out the common traditions, and American holidays entirely, I, for the most part, have always identified as white (because I look, act, and sound that way).  I don’t know if I was ever given much of a choice in the matter, but I have nothing to complain about because it’s a good position to be in.  There is an unequivocal pull, to understand my Latin roots and in some part identify with them. Though that is a bit harder, because it involves much more than blood, it is experience, a way of thinking and acting.  My sister had always been much better than I was at pulling this off, having been willing to plunge herself into the customs and traditions of the groups she wants to identify. To me, on the other hand, I choose just to surprise people when I tell them that I am in some part Hispanic. This extended into sporting events, never feeling impassioned to root for the home team, or really pay any mind to sports I learned enough to get by and I do enjoy them but I will definitely not live and die over the a loss like some greater sports fanatics.

Strangely enough, I have always enjoyed the role of observer. Seeing culture and learning from them as a way to accommodate part of them as part of myself.  It is an interesting road to follow, a way of life that certainly has its trials and tribulations.  By not being born with a deeply ingrained cultural background I can become a chimera of culture.  Implementing what I would like from what I experience.  Though it can be a lonesome road, being never fully part of one group so not benefiting from the community that culture a lot of the time employs, it is the one I choose.

My goal for this is to become a child of the world in which I reside.  Someone who can walk all the planes of this planet and feel at home.  To collect culture within myself so I can pass on a wisdom about how out there in the world there are a million ways to live life.  Learn about how the people make do with that they have and most importantly learn how to live a good life.

It is my hope that this combination with my amalgamation will lead to the creation of culture beyond limitations.

 

By Comparison

I think there is some lack of understanding on my part. Another part of my journey through life comes with a lesson I am having a hard time comprehending. Let me lay it out for people, so maybe someone can help me understand the answer.

From the get go, having siblings, especially older ones, is a hard thing for a few of reasons.  First, your parents are already tired. Second, though it’s an exciting new world for you, it’s not new to them, so it’s less exciting. Lastly, you will live in the shadow of what the other older child has done. Now,  this is not in any way a complaint of being born second, it has its perks. No, this is about that comparison.

My sister in some ways was a bar in which I was to reach. In school, friends, and extracurriculars I wanted to be something greater than the bar that came before. My sister, I believe, when we were younger could sense this, and in some ways played into it.  I can honestly say that my sister was much better at academics than I was, always pulling off better than average grades while I was studying just to get by.  The comparison ended though when we went in different directions in life, and comparisons couldn’t happen. Though I do like to tease her about my early completion from college, at the end of the day she was more prepared for what was on the other side.

My comparison had changed, it moved to friends, peers, and upperclassmen. Anyone and everyone, I compared to judge my distance, my strength, my abilities. Not a good way of doing things at the end of the day but it has kept me motivated for a long time. Seeing others move forward with their lives compelled me to figure out how to takes steps in the right direction.  It’s a frustration that I have, one that quells inside me and tells me to keep moving because I could be falling behind, one to teach me the discipline I need to get what I want to out of life.

It seems, though, that when I have come upon failure and I talk about how I am falling behind my peers in some ways that I should not compare myself to them.  That given the difference in path, situation, and lifestyle that I should not make those kinds of comparisons.

Why?

I don’t understand this point.  I compare to know the direction, I compare to motivate myself, I compare to foster greater things out of myself. Yes, it does bring me turmoil when I am not living up to these milestones, but great elation when I feel like I am moving according to the right track. Competition can bring out that extra energy to make good things great. Yeah, of course, I sometimes I don’t make it to the checkpoint in the time I want, but it keeps me pushing. I even compete against the person I was yesterday, a year ago, and the person I will be tomorrow. Working to live as purposefully as possible. People are social animals, we compare anything and everything, it’s dangerous in excess but its the easiest and most effective way we do things.

What am I to do? How to I improve without these comparisons. I do have goals and work to achieve them. I learn lessons from the world, from books, and from movies.  I know how I want to be. I have the people I want to be like in the back of my mind. I know who I don’t want to be, how I don’t want to act, and where I don’t want to go.

I do look to others for improvement, use people as a reflection of who I am. I know I have to deal with who I see in the mirror but it helps when I know I am backed up by others. I know to truly be someone of virtue and value I must learn not to pay any mind to the status of others  Life is not a race so I shouldn’t feel like I am competing.

If you have an answer of how not to compare, please tell me.

And if you know any way I can become a better person or even how I can learn not to be a bad person please let me know.

My Small Musings

The bright L.E.D. backlight of my laptop has illuminated my face for the evening. My eyes have grown accustomed to the light as the absence of the day left me with a darkened room.  The sound of my clicking keyboard is the only thing that sounds even remotely like life. I have sat, at this point, for hours. The various images and clips that I’ve pulled up on my screen have been countless, as my mind races to find some activity stimulating enough to catch my attention for more than a couple moments.  I resort to what usually find myself doing, watching top ten lists of various aspects of movies or tv shows.  Inside I know I need to do something, something to feel like the night means something, but it’s already late, and the list of tabs with video grows and keeps me in this space of indecision as my night floats on without me.

I did reach out to see if some of my friends wanted to hang out earlier, but alas no dice.  To me, it feels like one of those evenings to talk about sad things, to swap stories about scars, about failures, about lost passions and rejection.  To wallow in the center of intense emotion, finding some bonding in the darkness of the heart. A time to listen to heartwrenching songs and watch horribly sorrowful scenes of tv shows or movies. The kind of things that brings tears to the eye but happy in a way that we can be moved so much by them.

Well Alternatively, I could have gone driving around and see the night as I passed by the people out and about.  Drove through the bright neons of Hollywood, the incandescent lights of the suburbs, or found some quiet, dark road that makes me feel like the whole universe disappeared.  Doesn’t feel like one of those nights, especially with no one to share the moment.

I could start my next book, a book about the psychology of persuasion.  I’m still not over the last one, processing all the messages I got from it. Trying to institute some sort of change in accordance to its recommendations given to the main character.  I know I will get to it later this week so there is no rush.

Inside I know I have to write, I have regularly been writing to make a habit of it. Trying to make it an addiction, an obsession.  Something to keep me up at night, something I have to do or else I feel off.  It’s the romantic in me that has always wanted one of these kinds of obsessions.  So I sit here, illuminated by the L.E.D. of my laptop with the clicking of the keyboard being the only thing that sounding remotely like life as I spend time thinking about the world and writing.

Title: “Conscious Commitment” Or Maybe “Decisions, Decisions”… Or “How To Stick With Choices”

I’ve noticed when looking back at things that I have a hard time with commitment.  Now, I am not referring to  the relationships sense but when it comes to what I am doing and where I am going. Let me explain.

I find myself often battling with decisions, trying to take the route that will make it, so I don’t lose out on the possibilities of the future. That sometimes looks good on paper, but it’s like committing myself to something that hasn’t even happened yet.  It’s a hesitation that stews in my mind of closing making me refuse to close doors that may be better options for me to choose but hasn’t opened yet. This coupled with my bad habit of over thinking everything; nothing gets done.

This level of indecision is problematic, for obvious reasons.  If I don’t invest in anything, how am I suppose to get further in life? It’s as if I want to continue to with at beginner level because specializing can lead me down the wrong path.  It is a fear of mine, making the wrong decision. It comes with all worries and strife of not living the life I want to, always wanting to get that last piece of information that may tip the scales.   When I was younger, my parents taught me that” indecision itself is a decision” which ironically made me have to consider one more thing.  It is in my mind that I feel general hesitation.  I have a notion of that it is safer for me to walk the neutral road.  I realized, though, this path doesn’t lead anywhere, without commitment, the way is ugly, and the choices I have are fewer and are more circumstantial than purposeful. Everything then becomes a half measure, never putting myself out there to follow through with anything.

My mind feels this general hesitation throughout.  I have a notion of that it is safer for me to walk the neutral road.  I realized, though, this path doesn’t lead anywhere, without commitment, the way is ugly, and the choices I have are fewer and are more circumstantial than purposeful.

I decided that I have gotten far enough without making these kinds of hesitations; I need to make decisions, follow a path.  I know some paths lead to dead ends or tough times but if I am afraid that I won’t make it through at the end of the day, then what does it say about how much faith I have in myself.

Sometimes I have to go out on that wire, above the three ring circus, above the lion tamer and the flame eaters, above the crowd and walk the string held in the sky remembering all those days of practice and hard work. If I don’t, I’ll condemn myself to permanently being a spectator rather than a performer and never understand what it means to commit. Always wondering why I didn’t become something more.

My whole hearted solution I have found for the moment is giving myself deadlines. A time frame in which I have to adhere.  It has been a tough battle to practice this discipline, and far from perfect, but it has helped me feel like I am starting to move forward.  Choosing something and sticking with it, knowing it is okay to change my mind if new information presents itself.  The second thing I have determined to do is to act, act on what I know, instead of waiting to see if better information presents itself, knowing that being wrong is okay and part of life. No more half measures.

“On the plains of hesitation bleach the bones of countless millions who, at the dawn of decision, sat down to wait, and waiting died.”

– Sam Ewing